Dimensional Hotel

Yu Sheng ducked just in time. A “plastic” baton whooshed past his cheek and struck the wall behind him, scattering bright sparks and ringing like metal against stone. He glared over his shoulder at Little Red Riding Hood, who was busy guiding a pack of shadowy wolves into battle. “Didn’t you say these things wouldn’t attack us?” he shouted, pressing his back against the cool wall.

Little Red Riding Hood struggled to hold her ground in the far corner of the exhibition hall, her wolves snarling and snapping at the plastic guards. She shouted back, “I don’t know what went wrong! We followed every single rule of the museum! Normally, these guards shouldn’t even show up!”

Yu Sheng clenched his teeth. The guard that had swung at him now lay pinned to the floor, thanks to a quick twist of Yu Sheng’s arm. He’d discovered something crucial: destroying these mannequins too completely would only make them rebuild themselves faster. Better to just break an arm or a leg—then they wouldn’t trigger their strange self-repair. So he dislocated the guard’s arm, wincing at the plastic crack, but refrained from ripping its head off.

In the middle of this chaos, Yu Sheng heard more footsteps echo from the corridor at the far end of the hall. A clumsy crowd of figures began to stumble out, one after another, as if an endless line of these plastic guards were being conjured from thin air.

Nearby, Irene had just trapped two oncoming plastic guards in her spider-silk threads, their smooth bodies straining against the black, sticky strands. She caught her breath and turned toward the corridor. When she saw more of the plastic figures pouring through, she groaned, “Oh, come on—more?! Are these things infinite?!”

Little Red Riding Hood, straining to keep her wolves under control, answered quickly, “They might as well be! They’ll keep coming until the night show ends, or until all the ‘actors’—that’s us—are gone. The only other way is to escape their line of sight. If we hide from them, the museum won’t send more. But as long as they can see us, they just keep appearing!”

Yu Sheng’s eyes darted around, searching desperately for a way out. The main doors were blocked. Mannequins clogged every entrance. Not a single blind spot or opening offered a safe exit. They couldn’t linger here much longer or they’d be overwhelmed.

“Retreat!” Yu Sheng barked, his voice cutting through the din. “We have to find a place without guards!” He sprinted toward Little Red Riding Hood and her wolves, determination burning in his eyes. “Everyone, follow me—Foxy, clear a path and block that corridor!”

Foxy, standing with her glimmering silver tails spread wide, nodded sharply. She conjured up eerie foxfire, blueish flames flickering and spinning through the air. The flames danced over several plastic guards, melting their faces and twisting their limbs into useless shapes. Then, with a grin, Foxy whipped around, and two of her silver tails detached themselves, shooting forward like gleaming missiles.

The tails streaked down the corridor, and a thunderous explosion rocked the entire hall. Even though this building was made to withstand all sorts of “Otherworld” dangers, it trembled under the attack. Chunks of concrete and steel crashed down, sealing off the corridor and halting the steady stream of guards. Dust clouded the air, and for a second, it seemed as if they were safe.

But that relief was short-lived. The collapsed rubble soon began to twitch and writhe, as though alive. Broken plastic arms and legs squirmed through cracks in the debris. The mangled guards, half-melted and bent at impossible angles, clawed their way out. They were slower now, struggling to free themselves from the pile of wreckage.

Those few seconds were all Yu Sheng needed. Hoisting Irene over his shoulder, he strode toward a shimmering, glowing door that had appeared—one of those strange passageways that popped up in this shifting Otherworldly museum.

“This way!” he shouted. Yu Sheng might not always win every fight, but he could always find a way to run.

Without hesitation, Little Red Riding Hood guided her wolves through the door, their shadowy forms slipping into the new space. Foxy followed close behind. Before Foxy stepped through, she turned and aimed her tail at the guards pushing through the rubble, firing off quick bursts of foxfire that shot forward like bullets.

“Rat-a-tat-tat!” Foxy cried out. “Fox Radish Machine Gun!”

Yu Sheng rolled his eyes at the name. “Seriously, those attack names… Just get inside!” he snapped, impatient but relieved that she was effective.

“Okay!” Foxy chirped. She let loose one final volley of foxfire before leaping through the door.

Yu Sheng, still carrying Irene, prepared to cross as well. At that very moment, a twisted mannequin managed to lunge at him from a corner he’d overlooked. It grabbed his ankle with a plastic hand that felt as strong as steel. Ignoring the pain, Yu Sheng dragged it along for a step, then slammed the door shut, severing the mannequin’s arm cleanly. The leftover plastic limb dropped to the floor as the door sealed behind them.

Then, silence.

The roaring guards, the foxfire explosions, and the collapsing hall all vanished in an instant. Yu Sheng had grown used to the abrupt changes in atmosphere that came whenever they passed through these strange doors. Every time, it felt like stepping into a completely different world.

Now, they stood in a wide, quiet corridor lined with glass display cases holding ordinary-looking artifacts. Little Red Riding Hood scanned the hallway cautiously, her wolves drifting about like dark clouds. Foxy hovered at the far end, one tail in hand as though holding a large rifle, ready for any new threat.

No guards followed. No fresh attackers appeared. Just as Little Red Riding Hood had predicted, once they were out of sight, the museum’s pursuit paused.

Little Red Riding Hood recognized the corridor and raised her eyebrows. “We’ve been here before. To be honest, I expected you to open a door that led us straight out of this museum.”

Yu Sheng shook his head, breathing heavily. “If we ran away now, everything we did tonight would be a complete waste—the preparations, the lures, the inhibitors you used. They’d all be for nothing. They must’ve cost you a fortune.” He paused and frowned. “Also, doesn’t something feel wrong? Those guards shouldn’t have attacked if we followed all the rules. Something’s off about this place. We should try to figure out what.”

Little Red Riding Hood tilted her head thoughtfully. “Normally, we’d leave the moment we realize something’s wrong in an Otherworld,” she said. “Safety first. But you have a point—if we can handle the risk, investigating could bring us a worthwhile reward.”

Yu Sheng nodded. “If it gets too dangerous, we can always escape again using another door.” He turned toward Foxy, who was beaming with pride.

Yu Sheng sighed and offered reluctant praise. “You did well. Your attacks were strong.” Then he rolled his eyes. “But those names… Where did you even get them from?”

Before Foxy could reply, he raised his eyebrows at Irene. Foxy answered with a mischievous grin, “Irene came up with them! I told her what I could do with my tails, and she started tossing out these great names! I’ve even got a new move in progress: Fox Radish Thrust—”

Yu Sheng cut Foxy off and glared at Irene, who was perched on his shoulder. “I knew it! No one else would come up with something so bizarre!”

Irene puffed out her cheeks indignantly, placing her hands on her hips. “Ridiculous? I think they’re brilliant! Look at Foxy’s tails—they’re perfect for these names! I even used some clever puns—”

She murmured under her breath, “Actually, I considered calling the rapid-fire move ‘Fox Radish Biu’ at first, but that didn’t sound official enough…”

A nerve twitched at Yu Sheng’s temple. At least she hadn’t chosen something like “Fox Tail Biu,” he told himself silently. Small mercies.

Little Red Riding Hood watched them with a mixture of amazement and confusion. The trio—Yu Sheng, Irene, and Foxy—were so different from anyone she’d ever met. They were serious in their own odd way, dedicated to their work, yet they treated danger with a strange light-heartedness. They seemed to be both perfectly competent and utterly bizarre, all at once.

Normal humans wouldn’t behave like this, certainly not while being chased by living mannequins in an Otherworldly museum. Yet here they were, making banter about foxfire moves and silly names. Little Red Riding Hood found it almost impossible to classify them as either entirely right or entirely wrong in their approach.

She sighed softly and settled down on the back of one of her wolves, catching her breath. Despite everything, meeting these peculiar companions before her eighteenth birthday was turning out to be one of the oddest—yet most interesting—experiences of her life.

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