Doomsday Wonderland

Like many special items, [Pocket Dimension Setting]'s effects could be undone. However, to reverse the effect, you needed to not only get your hands on it but also meet one critical condition—it could only be undone by the person who activated it. That's why Milan was so determined to track down Wu Yiliu: she had to take him to the consular officer to retrieve the [Pocket Dimension Setting].

When the two of them stood on the rooftop of the high-rise, a wind swept across the city. Wu Yiliu had never been on the top of a commercial building before. At dozens of stories high, the wind tossed their hair, clothes, and even their words around, as if one strong gust could lift them up and carry them far away.

"I've never seen such... such chaos before," Milan said, pulling her gaze back from the view below. "Especially when I think about how peaceful this world used to be, where I could have lived a normal life. I just don't get it." She looked at Wu Yiliu and asked, "Did you really set the whole world on fire just to evolve yourself?"

Wu Yiliu kept his eyes on the ground below, silent. He still felt a bit dazed and weak, and her metaphor struck him as strange—especially considering their current situation, which was more the opposite of "burning."

It was hard to tell where the roads and sidewalks used to be, except for the occasional car poking out of the water. The swirling gray-blue water had swallowed up the streets between the buildings, filling every gap and steadily rising. He couldn't even tell which direction the taxi had crashed into the tree anymore.

This part of the city—just this part, as a few blocks over everything was back to normal—felt like a woman sinking into a bathtub, patiently waiting for the water to rise from below and wrap around her.

While Milan was telling him about Professor Qiao's final decision, neither of them noticed that at some point, a posthuman carrying a mini-doomsday had arrived in the neighborhood.

By the time they spotted the flood rushing around the corner as if it were alive, it was too late to run. In a hurry, Milan grabbed Wu Yiliu and pulled him into a nearby commercial building, dragging him all the way up to the rooftop. They waited there, hoping the unknown posthuman would leave—once they were gone, the pocket dimension would vanish too. No one was going to settle down here, after all.

"I asked you a question," Milan said, glancing at him. Her tone was casual, but her eyes were not; her dark pupils seemed to sink into deep pools, watching him from afar, as if she was weighing her options on what to do with him.

"Yeah, that's right," Wu Yiliu replied, leaning his weight against the rooftop's edge. Milan had given him something to drink, and he was feeling much better now. Still, he craved any chance to rest his body, no matter how small.

Milan was taken aback. She hadn't expected him to admit it so easily and didn't know what to say for a moment. When she finally spoke again, her voice was cold. "Then you'll be a dangerous person after you evolve, won't you?"

Wu Yiliu couldn't argue with her assessment and muttered, "I... I don't think so. I've never intentionally hurt anyone."

Milan scoffed, and the conversation ended there.

Although it wasn't clear how the posthuman was moving, they left the area about ten minutes later, just as expected. The water had completely receded, leaving no trace of the flood behind.

Still, Milan wasn't taking any chances. She grabbed Wu Yiliu and, keeping her feet off the ground as much as possible, leaped across rooftops, treetops, and car roofs. Wu Yiliu never wanted to experience anything like this again.

They didn't need to worry about their direction. The fake pocket dimension above them was a whirlwind of light, storms, and bizarre objects impossible to identify. These things would occasionally shoot high into the air, making anyone who glanced at them from a distance feel uneasy.

Milan finally stopped a few blocks away from the fake pocket dimension, just to be cautious. No one knew how many posthumans were trapped inside the center of it. After all, once you got stuck in someone's mini-doomsday, whether you could get out depended entirely on luck. Even if you managed to escape, life wouldn't be easy afterward. After triggering a mini-doomsday, no matter where you went, you'd be followed by a "death zone."

The posthumans' mini-doomsdays, tangled together in the pocket dimension, had effectively created an even larger space. And as they fled, this growing zone kept expanding and contracting like a rising tide, increasing the chances of contact with outside posthumans. If it wasn't dealt with soon, in a week's time, the whole city might turn into a battleground where different doomsdays collided and devoured each other.

Milan cursed under her breath.

She called the consular officer several times but got no response. Huanzi, however, did pick up, and the moment the connection was made, her sharp, screeching voice forced Milan to yank the communicator away from her ear. Even Wu Yiliu could hear Huanzi's hysterics clearly, as she repeatedly cried, "Come save me! Come save me!"

Those frantic words rang in Wu Yiliu's ears, piercing through him even after Milan hung up with a frown. It was as if a wild animal, caged and desperate, was trying to break free at the cost of its life. He had to take several deep breaths to calm the trembling feeling rising in him before asking, "Do you have something that can fly?"

Milan immediately understood his point and snapped back, a little impatiently, "Of course I do. If I could approach from the air, I would've flown up there already. It's because I can't that I'm stuck."

"Why can't you?"

"You're pretty smart," Milan said, pointing into the distance, "so why ask something you already know? Some of these mini-doomsdays reach all the way into the sky."

At least she had thought of that too.

Frustrated, Milan dragged Wu Yiliu around the fake pocket dimension, circling it several times as if searching for a safer way in. But after more than ten minutes, they were still no closer to it.

The consular officer wasn't as strong as the average posthuman, and now, trapped in a multi-layered pocket dimension of apocalypses, it was hard to say how long he'd last. If he died, the whereabouts of the [Pocket Dimension Setting] would be lost for good.

As each minute passed, Milan's anxiety grew more and more obvious. She kept glancing at Wu Yiliu—her inner struggle was written plainly on her face, no explanation needed.

Wu Yiliu sighed and said, "Alright, I'll go."

"You?" Milan's eyebrows shot up. "You're the one who caused this mess—"

"Yes, but you can't go in, right?" Wu Yiliu tried to sound as sincere as possible. "What rank is your home world?"

Milan's expression darkened, and she said nothing.

He had already guessed—her original apocalyptic world was likely extremely dangerous. If it were a low-threat E-class world, she might have been able to activate the [Pocket Dimension Setting] without much concern. Even if she couldn't undo its effect, she could find an empty place to wait until the day of transport and survive.

The reason she was hesitating to go in was likely because her biggest fear was her original world being triggered and following her wherever she went.

"I'm just a normal person," Wu Yiliu continued. "If I go in and stick to the gaps between the mini-doomsdays, I won't trigger a pocket dimension, so it's safer for me. Plus, I know where the consular officer was last seen, and I've already escaped from a mini-doomsday once before." He spoke calmly. "Add all these reasons together, doesn't it make me the best candidate? And of course, if you're willing to lend me something for self-defense, I'd feel even more confident."

"I've already thought of all that. But why are you willing to help me?"

"Because I want to make a deal with you," Wu Yiliu replied. "My goal is to evolve, and you already know that. I don't care what kind of situation gets me there, as long as I can evolve. If you agree to use the [Pocket Dimension Setting] afterward to put me in a low-level apocalyptic world to help with my evolution, I'll agree to find the consular officer and undo its effects."

Milan studied him closely, as if searching his face for some sign of truth. "And you trust me?"

"I don't think you're a bad person," Wu Yiliu said. "From what I saw with Professor Qiao... I'm willing to trust you." He meant it, though he still wasn't sure if Professor Qiao's fate had truly been a good one.

Milan's expression softened slightly. "I liked that old lady more than you," she muttered, finally showing signs of being convinced. "She just wanted to see the apocalyptic world, seemed more human than you."

"Everyone knows a different version of me," Wu Yiliu quietly replied. "Didn't you say that yourself?"

And so, their plan was tentatively set: Milan gave Wu Yiliu two defensive items and a communicator. Once he entered, they would stay in contact. With Milan's guidance as a posthuman, his chances of survival would be much higher. Besides, when they found the consular officer, it would be Milan who needed to talk to him and convince him.

There wasn't complete trust between them; their level of trust was just barely enough to move forward—like two strangers forced to cooperate in daily life.

To help Wu Yiliu regain his strength, Milan reluctantly handed him a small bottle of drink and let him finish it. She wasn't lying about being obsessed with collecting Special Items—aside from not being able to help with evolution, it seemed like she had something for almost every situation.

For the first five minutes after Wu Yiliu entered the fake pocket dimension, things were relatively calm. But when he finally caught sight of the nearest mini-doomsday in the distance, he gasped and came to a halt.

On the buildings inside the dimension, several massive snake-like creatures with human torsos coiled around the rooftops, their tails wrapped tightly, obscuring everything. Some seemed asleep, unmoving, while others stood upright on the roofs, their human heads swiveling, as if searching for prey.

"Why did you stop?" Milan immediately picked up on the difference in his breathing.

"When you confronted me on the rooftop," Wu Yiliu lowered his voice as much as possible—even though he was still far from the creatures, they shouldn't be able to hear him. "I lied. No, I didn't push the world into an apocalypse for my own evolution."

There was a noticeable alertness in Milan's silence.

"Changelings aren't human. You see this world, thinking it's peaceful, safe, and well-built. But that's not because of the Changelings. They didn't create this; they only slowly rot and decay the world. This world was built by humans in the past. Changelings are just like termites living in houses humans constructed.

"When termites can turn humans into more termites, and humans can't fight back at all, of course, as a human, I had to protect myself. Human history, human nature, thought, and life—all of that vanishes once someone's infected and transformed."

Milan had already guessed what he was about to say. Just as she raised her voice, Wu Yiliu softly interrupted her.

"I brought the flood to wash away the house, to drown the termites—but my goal was to save the people inside, even if not all of them." Wu Yiliu looked at the distant snake-like creatures, one of which seemed to sense something and slowly uncoiled, looking in his direction.

"If there's a god, I don't know whether he thinks what I did was right. But I think I'm right, and for me, that's enough," he said with a quiet sigh. "I'm sorry I lied to you. I won't disable the [Pocket Dimension Setting]... From here on, I'm going to do my best to become a posthuman. If I survive and make it out, I'll return the items you lent me."