Truth be told, as Xu Jiali described the intricacies of the Special Affairs Bureau’s operations, Yu Sheng couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt. It even prompted him to reflect on the frequency and timing of his recent calls to Bai Li Qing. After some deliberation, he resolved to redirect a few calls to Song Cheng to ease the pressure on the ever-watchful Director. After all, sharing the burden seemed fair—though stopping his experiments with gate opening was, of course, out of the question.
But alongside his self-reflection, Yu Sheng grew increasingly intrigued by the Bureau’s astonishingly complex headquarters. This was his first time observing the Borderland so closely, seeing firsthand how peculiar this “place” truly was—especially as Xu Jiali led him down a corridor and pointed out an office at the end.
“That room,” Xu Jiali explained, gesturing, “shifts to an anomalous space every night after ten.”
Fascinated, Yu Sheng followed as Xu Jiali elaborated, his tone patient yet brimming with pride. “There are many unique rooms and ‘zones’ here. The layout of the Bureau’s headquarters isn’t fixed. Certain areas move on a schedule, sometimes even linking to territories belonging to other species. We use these shifts to transfer supplies or rotate staff between outposts.”
“What’s even more interesting,” Xu Jiali continued, “is that the Borderland itself, despite being the ‘hub’ of this world, isn’t directly connected to the outside.”
“Not connected directly?” Yu Sheng echoed, puzzled. “What do you mean?”
“You can’t leave here using normal transportation,” Xu Jiali said with a knowing grin. “Whether you try by air or underground, you’ll find it impossible. If you leave this city, you’ll encounter vast plains, then unstable zones. Beyond that, when you cross the boundary marker, space folds in on itself, and you’ll be sent right back to the city’s edge. The Borderland’s time-space curls inward—that’s what I mean.”
Yu Sheng’s eyes widened as his heart skipped a beat. For the first time, he was learning about the Borderland’s “edges” and its baffling spatial structure.
The Borderland wasn’t continuous with the normal universe?
“Exactly,” Xu Jiali agreed. “It feels like a subset, but the Borderland has a depth level of zero, generates no entities, and operates under the mathematical laws of the outside world. Except for occasional supernatural phenomena, this place is classified as a ‘normal region.’”
Xu Jiali stopped walking, turning to Yu Sheng with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Scholars have many theories about the Borderland. The mainstream view is that it’s a space with unique properties. More extreme theories suggest that the Borderland is a depth-zero subset, functioning under the rules of the normal universe but creating ‘human society’ as an entity.”
Xu Jiali’s imposing frame—nearly two meters tall—leaned in as he delivered these unsettling ideas in a deliberately ominous tone. After a pause, he added, “Others propose a middle-ground theory: the Borderland itself isn’t a subset but is encased by one—a zero-thickness membrane that isolates this space from the universe.”
Irene raised an eyebrow. “That theory doesn’t sound any more provable.”
“True,” Xu Jiali shrugged. “It’s just another guess. The Borderland is full of mysteries, and people love using it to pad their research papers. Do you know how many apprentices and interns visit Boundary City every year? Half of them are here to scrape together last-minute research credits.”
Yu Sheng gawked, feeling that the conversation had taken a bizarre turn. Still, he refocused on the critical question. “Wait—if the Borderland isn’t continuous with outside space, how do people get in? Or out?”
“Ah, that’s where the ‘channels’ come in,” Xu Jiali explained. “For example, the special floors and offices in this building. Normal transportation doesn’t work, but the Borderland has many natural portals. These portals are tightly controlled by the Council and are the only official way in or out.”
Xu Jiali paused, giving Yu Sheng a strange look.
“What?” Yu Sheng asked, feeling uneasy.
“Well,” Xu Jiali said with a wry smile, “it’s not the only way anymore.”
It took Yu Sheng a moment to understand. Then it hit him—his gates. The doors he could open to all sorts of strange places.
His abilities had introduced a brand-new pathway, one that bypassed the Borderland’s natural portals entirely.
Xu Jiali broke the silence, his voice gentle but serious. “If you ever want to study those gates of yours further—or if you want to explore ‘faraway’ places—come to us. The Special Affairs Bureau has been managing this place for years. We could offer you some valuable insight.” ɽ𝖆Ν𝙤𝐁Êꞩ
Yu Sheng nodded slowly. Whatever their hidden motives, he couldn’t deny the practicality of their offer. “Thank you,” he said sincerely.
As they walked, they finally reached the door at the end of the hallway. Xu Jiali gestured toward it. “Here we are.”
Yu Sheng looked up at the room, instantly recognizing its significance. This wasn’t just any laboratory. The reinforced door, the space between it and the adjacent rooms, the layers of security equipment, and the prominent warning signs all pointed to its high-security status.
Above the door, a glowing plaque read: High-Risk/Advanced Sample Analysis and Containment Laboratory No. 2.
Xu Jiali stepped forward, swiping his deep diver credentials and temporary guide clearance through the door’s access panel. After a brief exchange with someone inside, the heavy isolation door groaned and began to open, revealing two staff members in full white protective suits standing behind a glowing red isolation line.
Yu Sheng stared at the scene, then turned to Xu Jiali. “I’m just here to drop off a paper fragment and a piece of metal. Isn’t this… overkill?”
“Director’s orders,” Xu Jiali said with a chuckle. “It’s the only lab available right now. Every lab has its own safety protocols, and once you’re assigned a lab, the procedures are strict—no exceptions. Even if you brought a button, they’d suit up to handle it.”
Yu Sheng sighed and reached into his pocket, pulling out a tattered paper fragment. Following instructions, he placed it on the transfer tray. “This is from the Black Forest. It belonged to Entity ‘Hunter.’”
The staff solemnly retrieved the fragment.
Next, Yu Sheng pulled out a crinkled plastic bag, unwrapped a bundle of old newspaper, and revealed the metal lump he’d found in the strange room at Wutong Road No. 66. The rustling of the plastic and newspaper echoed awkwardly in the sterile, silent lab, and Yu Sheng broke into a nervous sweat. Glancing at Irene, he muttered, “Should I have put this in one of those fancy cases with locks? You know, like in the movies?”
Irene groaned, covering her face. “Honestly, shoving it in your pocket might’ve been better.”
“Well, I didn’t want it tearing my clothes,” Yu Sheng grumbled. “This outfit’s new.”
He placed the metal lump on the tray, trying to ignore the absurdity of the situation. “This is another sample,” he said. “Recovered from my… uh, house. I mean, Wutong Road No. 66. Subset.”
Moments later, two staff members in even bulkier suits emerged, one carrying a silver-white alloy container covered in engraved symbols. They carefully secured the metal lump inside. Another staff member politely asked, “May we have the carrying materials as well?”
Yu Sheng blinked, then handed over the plastic bag and newspaper, watching as the workers collected them with as much care as they had the metal. Turning to Xu Jiali, he asked, “This is standard procedure?”
Xu Jiali rubbed the back of his neck. “Director’s orders,” he repeated.
This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation