Chapter 251: Behind the First Door

Ghostly white lights, a silent corridor.

A pale green wooden door.

Having experienced the previous forced entry into a subconscious dream, Lu Xin was prepared this time when he was pulled into the dream. He immediately abandoned resistance, allowing the other party’s power to invade. Thus, when the surrounding scene stabilized and became clear again, he smoothly returned to that mysterious, pallid corridor.

The moment he entered this dream, Lu Xin reached back and grabbed wildly.

His hand seized something soft. Turning his head, he met with a pair of large, watery, helpless eyes.

It was the Psychic Entity possessing the Dreamweaver-type power.

Having previously sensed Dreamweaver-type power from Deputy General Manager Xiao, Lu Xin was certain that within this collective of Psychic Entities provoked by an S-Class Ability User from the Maritime Nation, there must be a similar Dreamweaver-type entity.

Therefore, he had been waiting patiently.

Perseverance paid off; he had finally found this good Samaritan.

So he needed to grab onto it firmly.

…

The only problem was, the Psychic Entity was utterly bewildered.

Where exactly was this place? Why did it feel so terrifying?

What was even harder to comprehend? How, within a dream it had constructed, seemed the other party way more experienced?

And when it sensed something was wrong and tried to flee, it realized it had already been caught.

The grip was both powerful and gentle—clearly afraid it might escape, yet equally fearful of accidentally crushing it.

Outside, amidst the surrounding Chaos, Lu Xin closed his eyes, standing tall within the horde of Psychic Entities.

The Monster’s slender, soft tentacle touched Lu Xin’s temple, while his own hand gripped it firmly.

Around them, shadows swayed with complex emotions.

Mother watched Lu Xin, standing amidst the mass of Psychic Entities, her expression enigmatic.

…

Once more, it was that twisted, oppressive atmosphere. Deep within the space, an unsettling sense persisted as though countless terrified eyes were fixed upon him.

A faint, elusive scent of blood lingered in the air.

Assorted strange noises echoed incessantly in his ears.

Lu Xin forcefully suppressed the impulse surging within him, maintaining a calm composure as he strode resolutely forward.

He wasted no time, pushing directly through the wooden door into a corridor lined with numerous rooms. He quickly passed by these rooms, each unnerving in its own way but all empty now, arriving before the last three doors that remained tightly shut.

The door to the first room was still firmly closed, its interior dimly lit.

Peering inside, he could still discern shredded Toys and a disheveled Operating Table.

He recalled his last entry into this dreamscape: behind this door, he had seen those eyes, hanging upside down, filled only with the whites.

Lu Xin exhaled a deep breath, quelling the tension that threatened to overflow within him.

He grasped the handle of this room, and pushed hard against the door.

“Swish!”

As Lu Xin entered the room by pushing the door open, a blinding white light assaulted his vision.

For a brief moment, Lu Xin’s mind went blank.

Only when the piercingly bright light subsided could Lu Xin slowly discern the scene within the room.

He saw a busy operating room, lit by cruel, white lights filled with various precision instruments. Numerous individuals in White Lab Coats and surgical masks hurried back and forth within the room. The constant beeping sounds of machines around him mixed with occasional murmurs from the people, creating an atmosphere steeped in an urgent, suffocating tension that made his Heart clench uncomfortably.

“Report on the vital signs for the test subject labeled No.17.”

“All vitals stable… even tending towards improvement…” replied one through the mask.

“How utterly absurd! How could life signs improve after being dissected like that? Is it even human anymore?” another voice chimed in, filled with disbelief.

“…”

Amidst these jarring voices, Lu Xin’s gaze pierced through the figures and landed upon an Operating Table.

On it lay a girl who didn’t look very old. She was connected to numerous tubes and wires emanating from complicated machinery, clad in a little white dress now saturated with blood. Her hair was disheveled, large beads of sweat visibly forming on her forehead, soaking her hair strands.

Her chest cavity had been cut open. Numerous crude, jagged wounds scarred various parts of her body.

What was most outrageous: even reduced to this state, her body, along with her wrists and ankles, remained tightly strapped down to the operating table.

“We need to identify the reason she can exert such fluid control over her own body, and why her wounds heal at such an accelerated rate,” stated a voice clinically.

“She barely resembles a person anymore! The way she scaled the wall before… for a moment I thought I was encountering Sadako,” another added fearfully, his voice trembling.

“Sadako is frightening precisely because she is a ghost, a being possessing powers beyond that of normal humans…” came a third voice, attempting rationalization yet betraying unease.

“What we must do is unravel the secrets of these powers.”

“…”

Lu Xin’s brain suddenly grew slightly dizzy, his temples throbbing with a sensation that seemed to stir his very thoughts.

Everything felt overwhelmingly familiar.

This wasn’t like being in a dream; he was in the real world.

“Beep! Beep!”

Suddenly, a piercing alarm from an instrument shattered the silence.

“Oh no!”

A nurse’s shocked voice rang out: “The anesthesia has worn off! She’s waking up early…”

“Should we administer more anesthesia?”

“…”

In the room, a middle-aged man wearing gold-rimmed glasses adjusted his frame and spoke coldly: “No. The experiment has commenced, baseline data is recorded. Administering more anesthetic now will interfere with our test results.”

Someone gasped in surprise: “Then what do we suggest?”

“Continue the experiment.”

The middle-aged man replied calmly: “After all, she cannot break free now. This also allows us to gauge her pain perception.”

“Yes, Doctor. Increase the pace of the procedure.”

Instantly, the room was filled with a girl’s agonized screams and the tearing sound of a scalpel slicing through skin.

…

An indescribable fury suddenly exploded within Lu Xin’s mind.

It had been a long time since he had felt anything so vividly, so sharply. It was a rage that felt capable of incinerating him clean on the spot, seizing his brain instantly and shattering all tranquility. A roar, more terrifying than any beast’s, tore from his throat.

He lunged forward desperately, his arms flailing clumsily.

He wanted to seize everyone in that room, tear them apart, to utterly annihilate everything…

Schriiik—

As he swiped his hands, the entire scene began to shatter.

It was as if his hand had clawed at a television screen, ripping through the display.

All imagery and figures started twisting, fragmenting, and vanishing.

The last thing imprinted in Lu Xin’s vision was the terrified, helpless eyes of the girl on the operating table.

…

Huff…

Lu Xin jolted his head up to find himself back in the Real World, standing at the foot of the East Sea Grand Hotel.

Clutched in his hand was the wispy white remnant.

The large-eyed, kindly Psychic Entity had completely vanished by this point.

This white specter, too, had grown dim and broken.

It resembled a crumpled ball of paper, torn to ragged shreds by his own grip.

Zzzzt…

The words “WARNING” flashed red across his Glasses, precisely over the frame of the left lens.

Simultaneously, Lu Xin could feel the frame of his Glasses turning icy cold. It was as if some abnormal Emotion within him was being rapidly siphoned away. Images of a frenzied world under the Crimson Moon flashed violently, rhythmically, within his mind.

This caused his uncontrollable rage to surge rapidly towards a focal point.

Like a man on fire plunging into an ice-cold lake.

The flames consuming him were being drawn away, extinguished.

After a long moment, Lu Xin calmed. He gently removed the Glasses, examining the red wooden frame. Its design appeared clumsy in places, yet exhibited a strange sense of technology in others. Looking at them, he confirmed something within himself. After a long pause, he placed the Glasses back on.

He lifted his head in silence.

Above him, the Crimson Moon hung astonishingly round in the sky, even though the lunar cycle did not call for fullness.

Bathing in the abnormally vivid glow of the Crimson Moon, Lu Xin’s Shadow stretched out, unnaturally large and profoundly dark.

“It’s time for a high-profile ending…”

Lu Xin thought silently to himself, turning to walk towards the towering building.

As he ascended higher, the Shadow cast behind him by the Crimson Moon expanded exponentially.