Yu Sheng stood motionless at the Door, one hand still holding open the passage to the Valley, eyes fixed deeply into the hall, staring at the stairway leading underground.
He was certain he had just glimpsed the Hunter—worn-out hunter’s garb, a heavy hood, beneath which lay nothing but emptiness. The Hunter had stood silently, appearing for only the blink of an eye, but Yu Sheng was sure of it: the figure had been watching him.
Why had the Hunter appeared? Was it because Little Red Riding Hood’s delayed exit meant the “Black Forest” subset hadn’t completely faded yet? Was there something lingering within this building? Or perhaps… was Anka Aila’s stirring growing even stronger?
Moreover, Yu Sheng was sure the figure had been looking directly at him. Did the mysterious Hunter… want to communicate?
He furrowed his brow deeply in thought. Just then, movement near the open Door caught his eye. Irene leaned forward, peering curiously through the Doorway. “Hey, Yu Sheng, why aren’t you coming over?”
“You take Little Red Riding Hood and the others and settle the Cursed Children first,” Yu Sheng replied quickly. “I’ll do another sweep here and come join you shortly.”
“Oh,” the little doll nodded, not pressing further. “Then hurry up. There are so many little kids here; once they get comfortable, they’ll probably chase after me again—I won’t be able to handle it alone.”
Yu Sheng gave a casual reply as he released his grip from the Door.
The passage to the Valley closed instantly. The landscape visible through the Door disappeared into nothingness, leaving only the empty courtyard outside East Building, quietly submerged in the night.
The lights were still on, doors left ajar. The hurried evacuation had left clear signs—beds left unmade, belongings abandoned on tables or bedside, chairs overturned and untouched on the floor.
The building echoed only with Yu Sheng’s quiet footsteps.
No strange sounds arose. No sudden lights appeared outside the windows. No uncanny shadows ascended from the walls or materialized out of thin air. Yu Sheng carefully inspected the second and third floors, finding nothing unusual.
It seemed clear that with the Cursed Children’s evacuation, the Fairy Tale “overflow” had indeed ceased. The Hunter’s brief appearance was likely only an “aftershock.”
…But was it really so simple?
Yu Sheng felt lingering doubt. Just then, his phone rang.
It was Song Cheng—naturally, news of the early evacuation of the Cursed Children had already reached the engineering teams in the Valley and thus Special Affairs Bureau.
Answering quickly, Yu Sheng spoke first, “The Cursed Children have been evacuated safely. The ‘overflow’ has stopped, and all illusions that had entered reality have vanished. I’m currently inspecting the building alone.”
“Good,” Song Cheng’s relieved voice replied from the other side. “It’s good news the overflow stopped. A team has already been dispatched to your location—they’ll arrive in about ten minutes and will take over surveillance.”
“Understood. I’ll wait here,” Yu Sheng replied. Then, glancing up through a hallway window toward the sky—where Prince’s anti-aircraft fire had recently lit up the darkness—he continued, “Just now, illusions had spilled out all over. I saw some extending beyond the Orphanage walls, even into the sky… Has there been any significant impact outside?”
“That’s exactly what I wanted to discuss,” Song Cheng’s voice grew heavier. “So far, we’ve had no external reports of sightings. Even the Special Affairs Bureau’s detection equipment around the Orphanage hasn’t registered any anomalies. The Bureau is urgently verifying data from other nearby sensors and ‘nodes,’ but at present… it appears none of our equipment detected any of the ‘overflow illusions’ you mentioned.”
Yu Sheng paused in his tracks, stunned by the information.
The illusions spilling from the nightmare had been incredibly vivid, complete with roaring artillery and bursts of flame lighting up the sky. Yet there hadn’t been any disturbance detected outside the Orphanage?
Lack of eyewitness reports made sense, considering it was deep into the night and ordinary citizens were screened by node-shielding devices. But for Special Affairs Bureau equipment to miss all signs was baffling.
Could it be… those nightmare-born illusions were visible only within the Orphanage’s confines?
Yu Sheng shared his suspicion with Song Cheng, who was quiet for two or three seconds before responding slowly, “…That’s quite possible. Those illusions spilling outward were fundamentally still part of Fairy Tale members’ ‘nightmares,’ not physical entities truly entering reality. As you noted, they left no trace once faded, indicating their visibility was significantly restricted.”
“Then we should be thankful we stopped the overflow while they were still merely illusions,” Yu Sheng exhaled softly.
Just then, headlights appeared outside the Orphanage perimeter—car lights coming from the direction of the road entrance.
Song Cheng’s voice came clearly through the phone again, “Our team has arrived. They’re waiting at the main Door.”
“I see them—I’ll go out to meet them.”
Yu Sheng strode to the orphanage’s main Door. As soon as he stepped outside, several sleek, black vans marked with the Special Affairs Bureau emblem stopped neatly along the perimeter wall. Their doors slid open in unison, and a squad of heavily armed operatives poured out, their futuristic black gear gleaming sharply under the dim twilight. Each figure looked like a seasoned agent straight from a sci-fi thriller, and among them stood a familiar face.
Yu Sheng stared blankly at the young man, momentarily confused. Covered head to toe in tactical armor, gripping his rifle firmly, Li Lin looked every inch the seasoned special forces soldier. Yet Yu Sheng’s memories stubbornly clung to scenes of him haggling over discounted instant noodles in the neighborhood supermarket or squatting casually by the roadside like a carefree youth.
The contrast was so striking Yu Sheng couldn’t immediately reconcile it. It wasn’t until Li Lin approached him directly that Yu Sheng finally raised a hesitant hand in greeting. “Oh… it’s you?”
“Yes, sir,” Li Lin nodded sharply, snapping into a disciplined stance. He announced formally, his voice precise and well-trained, “Special Affairs Bureau Second Mobilization Squad, ‘Fairy Tale’ Emergency Response Unit. Li Lin, acting field commander. We’ll assume responsibility for surveillance and defense here.”
Yu Sheng blinked, bewildered. “You… are the field commander?”
“Only temporarily reassigned,” Li Lin admitted softly, leaning closer with a wry look. “Honestly, Brother Yu, I’m freaking out here…”
Yu Sheng, whose initial discomfort with Li Lin’s new, professional appearance had already faded, immediately cracked a smile. Curious, he asked, “What about Xu Jiali?”
“Xu’s a Deep Diver. He’s standing by at headquarters, ready to be deployed if Otherworld truly gets out of control,” Li Lin whispered back. “Our squad’s main job right now is just surveillance. How’s the situation inside?”
Yu Sheng coughed slightly, composing himself. “Well, right now things inside are stable, though it was pretty lively just a moment ago.” He quickly recounted the recent chaos and the cursed children’s evacuation. “With the kids gone, the anomalous spillover effects have ended. Still, we can’t be sure if the orphanage itself has changed, so someone needs to stay and monitor. I’m heading to the settlement next; I’ll leave this place in your hands.”
Li Lin nodded firmly, his demeanor now genuinely reflecting the reliability of an elite operative. “Understood. Don’t worry, you can count on us. Go ahead.”
The more Yu Sheng listened, the stranger those reassuring words sounded—but perhaps that was just his recent brushes with death talking, making him overly cautious, akin to the vigilance of an undertaker sensing trouble.
Still, Yu Sheng didn’t dwell on it. After carefully briefing Li Lin on the orphanage, the phenomena they’d witnessed, and necessary precautions, he waved goodbye, pulled out his phone to report in, then stepped through the Door toward the Valley.
The instant he crossed the teleportation portal, Irene’s panicked voice shrieked into his ears:
“Yu Sheng—! HELP! Somebody stop these crazy little monsters!!”
Yu Sheng jolted in surprise, immediately spotting several giggling, shrieking children chasing Irene around in dizzy circles on the grassy clearing. Irene, stubby legs pumping frantically, looked like a frantic rabbit, sparks nearly flying from her frantic strides.
Farther away, he saw several Fairy Tale Organization Guardians calmly overseeing groups of resting children scattered across the grass and around the platform. Little Red Riding Hood stood near the construction site, deep in conversation with the supervisor, while Fox Girl energetically bounded toward Yu Sheng, waving enthusiastically.
Relief washed over him; the Cursed Children were clearly adapting well and happily settling in. No emergencies in sight.
Grinning widely, Yu Sheng moved to meet the joyful Fox Girl, who shouted happily as she approached, “Benefactor, Benefactor! Human cubs are so much fun!”
Yu Sheng laughed warmly, but midway through his steps, he suddenly froze. From the corner of his eye, he caught sight of several brilliant, blazing-blue fox tails soaring swiftly through the air above the grass, each tail carrying an ecstatic, squealing child—
Cold sweat instantly broke out across his forehead. “Whoa—stop! That’s not safe!”
Irene, still darting in desperate loops across the grass, screamed louder than Yu Sheng: “That’s EXACTLY what I’ve been saying! DOESN’T ANYONE CARE ABOUT SAFETY HERE?!”
This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation