Chapter 208: Laboratory of the Pale One

“Where is this…”.

Lu Xin’s heart contracted violently.

He couldn’t describe any specific emotion.

He felt this place was simultaneously familiar yet entirely beyond his recollection of when he might have seen it.

The only certainty was the emergence of an intensely complex sensation within him.

The calmness he had borrowed from “Mother’s Perspective” seemed to vanish completely in an instant.

A panic, absent for so long, surged within him.

This emotion became so extreme it was suffocating, making him take deep breaths to maintain composure.

He looked up and saw the corridor extending forward. About seven or eight meters ahead, a pale green wooden door stood tightly shut. Through its narrow window, he glimpsed what appeared to be an expansive experimental area behind it.

…

A powerful curiosity suddenly blossomed in Lu Xin’s mind.

Urged by an inexplicable impulse and desire, he felt an overwhelming need to understand what resided within this dream.

He lifted his heavy feet and began walking slowly forward.

However, the instant he took this step, he abruptly felt an unseen force pulling at him.

“Tap, tap, tap…”.

A series of sharp snapping sounds reached his ears—someone was frantically clicking their fingers, applying some kind of suggestion.

Simultaneously, the world began trembling, fractures appearing across everything.

It was as if a television screen was about to shatter, showing glass-like cracks through the image.

Lu Xin snapped his head up and saw the white Shadow.

It materialized in the air behind him, its head jerking back violently. Beneath the disheveled hair, an expression of terror and confusion was visible. It strained desperately backward, seemingly intent on fleeing this world at any cost.

It also seemed taken aback, never expecting its own subconscious could create such a place.

Logic dictated this was the moment for it to attack him, yet instinct made it feel fear.

Thus it struggled, trying frantically to escape.

And because it sought to leave, this world became unstable.

After all, this world was forged from its power and Lu Xin’s subconscious.

…

“Whoosh…”.

Just as this world was on the brink of collapse, Lu Xin whirled around and grabbed.

The Shadow was far from him, yet his reach spanned the distance instantly. He seized it firmly despite its frantic thrashing, then mercilessly hauled it right in front of him, exerting a strength he had never before used, gripping his quarry with absolute tenacity.

The white Shadow, caught in his grasp, radiated waves of pure Fear.

“Since you’re here, you stay with me a while longer…”

Lu Xin addressed the Shadow in his grasp. His tone was gentle, but it brooked no refusal.

After he trapped it, the world steadied once more.

Ignoring what he actually held, Lu Xin merely secured it against escape, then continued on his path forward.

In his hand, the white Shadow trembled ceaselessly, contorting in agony.

Never had it known Fear like this. Never had it witnessed such an absurd scene. Even as a wisp of residual Mental Power, it remembered that every single person it had ever influenced before fought desperately to leave the Dream Realm, striving back to the Real World—that was the Instinct of Life. Yet this time, it was it that wanted to flee, while the dreamwalker insisted on staying…

Crucially, the dreamwalker’s Will was overwhelmingly strong; it was no match for him at all.

In the dream it had crafted, it was dominated.

Or rather, it was being held hostage…

…

With no time to consider this companion’s thoughts, Lu Xin was solely intent on seeing this world.

Perhaps because this place existed within a dream, or perhaps for other reasons.

The surrounding air seemed filled with countless warped forces, making the field of vision blurry and unstable.

Gusts of cold air rushed constantly from the depths of the corridor, swirling around Lu Xin.

It felt as though many things he could not see surrounded him.

The corridor was not wide; the surrounding space felt cramped. Yet Lu Xin could distinctly sense countless unseen eyes fixed obsessively upon him from beyond his sight.

They didn’t harbor hostility toward him, but fear. Lu Xin could perceive that the owners of those gazes were currently shivering, looking at him with eyes filled with utter terror yet not daring to flee, emitting silent screams he couldn’t hear.

What stood in stark contrast was the “it” held firmly in Lu Xin’s grasp.

Also stared at indirectly by those countless gazes, it seemed to experience indescribable terror, or rather, agony.

Its body resembled a human shadow cast under countless moving light sources.

Under the glare of those lights, it twisted, fragmented, then reassembled endlessly.

With every cycle of change, it seemed to diminish slightly.

…

Lu Xin walked slowly, sensing the emptiness of this corridor.

Those myriad strange sounds vanished unnaturally as he drew near.

Yet they would suddenly erupt again at unexpected moments.

Reaching the corridor’s end, he slowly pushed open the unlocked door. Light flooded out from behind it.

Lu Xin could even hear the faint buzz of electricity flowing inside the incandescent lamp.

The moment the door swung open, Lu Xin spotted a dark, indistinct shape on the floor.

His mind paused briefly; looking closely, he discerned it was a person with a grotesquely twisted body.

They were coated in a black substance, obscuring their original features, but he could make out a white lab coat. It was a man. His body was contorted into an unnatural shape, his mouth agape. The sheer terror he felt in his final moments was still palpable.

Lu Xin stared for a while before spotting a name tag pinned to the white lab coat.

Parts of the name tag remained uncovered, vaguely revealing words like “Crimson Moon,” “Project,” and “Research.”

Lu Xin didn’t attempt to pick it up. Slightly raising his head, his gaze met a row of tightly shut doors ahead. They resembled cells, or perhaps hospital wards, though many were already forced open, swinging uselessly with the wind.

Some doorways held overturned metal racks, surrounded by pills spilled like debris onto the floor.

Others bore blood spatters, scratches visible on the doors as if clawed by frantic fingernails.

…

Lu Xin felt a wave of confusion. Straining his eyes, he saw three doors further down.

They hadn’t been forced open; they remained firmly closed.

That inner stirring—or rather, the anxiety—grew much stronger.

Lu Xin strode forward, feeling his own legs begin to shake uncontrollably.

He stopped before the first unopened door.

Then, pressing his face close to the small window on the door, he forced down a surge of turbulent emotion within him and peered carefully inside.

The room was pitch-black. Only the hallway light illuminated many instruments and an operating bed. In one corner, seemingly, lay the torn remains of some plush toys, scattered in ragged pieces across the floor.

That strange unease flared up within him like raging flames.

Lu Xin sensed that the cruel Shadow of Dreamweaver-type he had forcibly restrained, forbade from retreating, now reached the pinnacle of terror. It struggled desperately, thrashing and writhing, frantically trying to escape.

But Lu Xin pulled it back with all his might, forcing it to help stabilize this Dream Realm.

Rising onto his tiptoes, he pressed further against the closed door, searching the room behind it almost unconsciously.

He felt certain something was inside this room…

“Swish!”

At that very moment, a pair of eyes abruptly appeared in the window inches from Lu Xin’s face.

They were upside-down eyes, filled entirely with white.

Simultaneously, Lu Xin felt a surge of intensely familiar recognition.

A peculiar, overwhelming sadness abruptly flooded his mind, submerging every trace of his awareness.

…

But right then, Lu Xin’s hand suddenly grasped empty air.

At the same moment, his head exploded in excruciating pain. The surrounding world began disintegrating piece by piece.

He was returning to the Real World.

The Shadow he had been forcibly holding onto had now vanished completely.

Sustaining such a Dream Realm seemed to be an immense drain on it. And, unable to withdraw while Lu Xin held it captive, the result was this: Lu Xin had borrowed its power to forcibly remain in that Dream Realm for roughly twenty seconds. Each one of those seconds burned up its Psychic Energy. Finally, just as Lu Xin saw those eyes, the Shadow’s Psychic Energy reserves were completely exhausted.

Wails, the shouting voice of a woman, and pleas from bodyguards outside the door now struck Lu Xin’s ears rapidly.

He scanned left and right and realized he had already returned to Reality.

He instinctively raised his wrist to check his watch and discovered barely three seconds had elapsed in the Real World.

Moments before, just as that pale hand had grabbed him, he had fired a shot at the female secretary. Consequently, within those scant three seconds, the secretary was already lying on the floor, wailing loudly and slipping towards unconsciousness—unable to do anything to him. Outside the door, the bodyguards, startled by the gunshot, had scrambled to take cover on either side of the doorway, shouting wildly, “Please control yourself…!”

“Firing a weapon within city limits is illegal…!”

“Guard Bureau reinforcements are on their way! You still have a chance to reconsider…!”

“Remain calm!”

“…”

Everything remained within the bounds of his control, yet Lu Xin suddenly felt an overwhelming emptiness.

After a long pause, he slumped, defeated, into a chair.

Though he had just experienced mere moments within a Dream Realm, the lingering feeling clung to him.

He sat immobile for a while before stirring slightly. Something felt off about his eyes.

He instinctively reached up, his fingers brushing lightly across the corner of his eye, and found a small, shimmering wetness coating them.

He had been weeping without even realizing it.