Doomsday Wonderland

Chapter 1601: Fighting with a Story

‘Wait, wait, I’m a little confused—’

Lin Sanjiu jerked awake, feeling as if she’d been suddenly slapped out of a long dream. She was momentarily alarmed but realized she was still hovering over Wu Yiliu.

What was going on?

What did “Abby” mean?

Could it be that she, like the person who had taken over Abby’s body, had also taken over Wu Yiliu’s body?

No, that was not right… The person across from her clearly had absolute control over Abby’s body, and Abby’s own will had disappeared from her body.

But Lin Sanjiu knew that she had no control over Wu Yiliu. She was like a wisp of ghost, clinging to his shoulder, experiencing the present with him. He could say and do anything, and she could only watch. How could this be called “possession”?

Her confusion didn’t last long. When Wu Yiliu began to speak, her thoughts once again became entranced, as if she had become Wu Yiliu himself.

“I understand,” he said, nodding. “So, the four of us were tricked into being guinea pigs. What exactly is the pocket dimension you entered?”

“Abby” seemed quite patient with him, replying, “This pocket dimension is called ‘Driver.’ We four players read a detailed introduction before starting. There’s no harm in telling you… After we entered the pocket dimension, we lay down on lounge chairs, and our ‘souls’ stood up from our bodies.

“The playing field provided by the pocket dimension this time is this cabin. Perhaps next time the location will be closer; this one is too remote. If we didn’t seek people out, I’m afraid no one would come all year. And the people who appear in the cabin are our targets to fight over.

“We were given the ability to ‘brainwash’ by the pocket dimension. If a player brainwashes the target successfully, that target becomes their ‘vehicle.’ For example, Abby no longer exists after my brainwas.h.i.+ng, but I can drive her body around. When I’m not driving her, she’s like a car that hasn’t started, a vegetable.”

While Wu Yiliu was silent, “Abby” continued, “The pocket dimension gave us a list of items, and we each chose something. When the target touches our designated item for a certain duration, the brainwas.h.i.+ng is successful. To make the target touch the item, we have to whisper in their ears, guiding them to pick up the object—this is part of the brainwas.h.i.+ng process.”

Wu Yiliu felt colder and colder, not knowing if it was because of the pouring rain or her words.

Was someone always crouching next to him when he rested on the sofa? Were Pence and Abby unaware of an extra face on their shoulders when they sat down to adjust the television? Did the four of them eat, drink, and sleep in the house, with another four watching and wanting to enter their bodies, without noticing?

No, not entirely without noticing.

“The human head shadow I saw, and the hand that Pence found…” he mumbled. “Could they be parts of you?”

“It is a pocket dimension, after all,” the person controlling Abby said with a laugh. “There has to be some balance. Although you are just our targets, guinea pigs, the pocket dimension still set a few hints for you. For example, you generally can’t see us as ‘souls.’ Only occasionally, at certain moments, can you see a small part of our figures.”

Wu Yiliu slowly nodded.

The situation was clear: the location where this pocket dimension appeared was right inside the base of some organization – specifically which organization, the four of them were never explicitly told. The four people trapped in this pocket dimension were likely all members of the same organization; after understanding the content of the pocket dimension, they realized that they had no need to compete with each other at all.

They just needed to trick four people into becoming targets.

“What will happen to the people you… drive after the pocket dimension ends?” Wu Yiliu asked, looking at Abby. He didn’t know when exactly Abby had been successfully brainwashed, but he figured it hadn’t been long – he still remembered Abby herself, her sense of safety that seemed greater than the average posthuman’s, her ease in trusting people, and a smile that seemed to always linger behind her lips, ready to emerge at any moment.

“They become completely mine, of course,” the person controlling Abby answered as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “Do you even need to ask?”

Right.

In the Twelve Worlds Centrum, those disguised objects, like masks or human suits, were things that needed to be worn on oneself, always running the risk of being detected.

Possession, on the other hand, was different. One consciousness could have multiple bodies, and each body would be the absolute “self” – without any concern of detection. And that was just the most superficial benefit; having an extra body could indeed be greatly advantageous.

No wonder they were tempted.

“We didn’t know if the targets entering the activity area would realize the truth or not, so we specially found four pocket dimension reconnoiters. If even you fell for it, then ordinary posthumans would have no hope at all,” Abby said, shaking her head. “Fortunately, they didn’t notice anything was wrong; only you were somewhat special.”

“The fact that you’re willing to tell me all the details,” Wu Yiliu said, trying to steady his voice, “Do you believe I no longer have a chance to reveal this information to the outside world?”

“Abby” looked at him, her smile freezing on her face, as if silently confirming.

Her confidence stemmed from another player having quietly followed them, right?

“You asked me why, even though I knew something was wrong with Abby, I still told you such a long story,” Wu Yiliu said.

He felt a chill in his neck and back but resisted the urge to look behind him. “First, because when I’m fully immersed in the past, I can temporarily block out most external distractions, even if someone is whispering in my ear all the while. I wouldn’t hear it. It’s like the fake pocket dimension in my first world; if you don’t look at the content on the screen, you can be temporarily unaffected.”

“Abby” said nothing.

“Second, you have it wrong.”

From the moment he began recounting his past experiences, Wu Yiliu never took his eyes off Abby. He watched her every blink, every turn of her head, every smile, and the way she looked when she spoke, memorizing it all with a surgeon’s cool precision.

“My story wasn’t meant for you. I was telling it to Abby. It’s my way of helping her fight your infection—no, your brainwas.h.i.+ng.”

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