"You're sure that the last time you saw the bearded man, he went in this direction?"
In the dim, endless alleyway, Lin Sanjiu's voice, though lowered, still carried far and dissipated between the brick walls. Her movements were light and barely detectable; in the gray stillness, her voice and Dreadlocks' footsteps were unusually clear.
"I'm pretty sure. After he took me to the guard post, I sat down, and he turned and walked off to the left of my chair," Dreadlocks said, sticking close behind her, afraid that if he lagged, a turn could separate them. "But... I don't remember walking this far on the way here..."
Lin Sanjiu felt the same. When she'd searched for Dreadlocks, she had navigated several alleyways in only seven or eight minutes. But after following the direction Dreadlocks pointed out, they had been running for at least five minutes. The alley grew quieter, stranger, and stretched forward into the dark with no sign of ending—no lights, no human sounds.
"I think we took the wrong direction," she said, stopping and keeping her voice calm. She tilted her chin, signaling Dreadlocks to turn back. "Let's head back. Maybe we missed a fork somewhere."
This time, they carefully checked the sides of the path to avoid overlooking any narrow alleys. But when they nearly reached Dreadlocks' post—where his overturned chair was faintly visible—they still hadn't found any forks.
"Let's try the other way and ask some ordinary folks," Dreadlocks suggested. Further down, pale daylight spilled through a break in the ceiling, casting a dim patch on the ground. A few makeshift sleeping mats lay in the corner, faintly visible.
Lin Sanjiu looked ahead, then turned to check the path they had just come from. "Something's wrong."
"What is it?"
"Look." She pointed at the daylight. "In front, the alley looks like the Chimeric City I remember, with gaps in the ceiling at regular intervals. But now look behind us. We walked a long way. Did you see any ceiling breaks?"
Dreadlocks whipped his head around, his dreadlocks nearly slapping his face. But he was too stunned to care. He muttered, "What... what do you mean?"
Lin Sanjiu didn't answer. Instead, she cautiously walked a few steps forward. As she expected, the chair, the moonlight on the ground, the sleeping mats—everything in front of them remained at the same distance as before.
"What's going on?!" After trying it himself, Dreadlocks lost his patience and pounded the wall in frustration. "Is this some kind of Special Item?"
Despite his mediocre combat skills, his deduction was sharp. Lin Sanjiu nodded. "It seems that starting near your chair, someone linked a new space to this area. This space mimics the original surroundings, but no matter how far we walk, we can't reach the real alley. It stretches endlessly with our steps. That's why, unlike a real alley, there are no changes in the environment, like gaps in the ceiling."
She had previously encountered an item with a Möbius loop effect. Though the behavior was different, the concept was similar.
"A spatial-type item?" Dreadlocks wiped his face hard. "I must be special for someone to waste such a valuable item on me. But... when did this trap even—"
Even Lin Sanjiu couldn't say. When she woke Dreadlocks and questioned him, she hadn't sensed any posthumans nearby—unless whoever set the trap was far stronger than she could imagine, eluding both her Keen Senses and Higher Consciousness.
"Someone evading my senses is possible, just unlikely," Lin Sanjiu said, crossing her arms. "The other, more likely scenario is that the person who set the trap was someone I didn't guard against."
"Someone you didn't guard against..." Dreadlocks' eyes darted around before he froze and pointed at himself. "You mean me?"
He panicked, waving his hands frantically. "Why would I trap myself?! Besides, I have no reason to trap you, and I can't afford—"
"I know." Lin Sanjiu waved her hand, cutting him off and sighing. "If it really was you, trapping yourself wouldn't make any sense."
Dreadlocks didn't even need to feign innocence; she had never really suspected him.
"Then stop scaring me," Dreadlocks muttered, still shaken. "Being trapped in a space like this is bad enough. What did Chimeric City do to deserve this? People disappearing, others mutating, someone who doesn't know me somehow knowing me for ages... and now a spatial item! What the hell is going on?" řÂ𝐍ÖꞖÈ𝐬
They tried a few ways to escape, but none worked. Spatial items typically didn't pose immediate life-threatening danger, but once trapped, getting out on your own was nearly impossible. Even their calls for help couldn't get out; the weary, frightened ordinary people deep in the alley still slept soundly. Though the normal world was just a few steps away, they might as well have been ghosts trapped between realms.
"What do we do now?" Dreadlocks slumped to the ground, staring at the overturned chair. His voice was a hushed whisper.
Lin Sanjiu thought back to when they jumped from the suspension bridge. She recalled that faint, familiar flash of silver in the sky.
Eight-Heads De always seemed to have an uncanny awareness of the city's events. Perhaps he had one of his heads stationed in the sky? She remembered Eight-Heads De explaining that those silver spheres served as information relays. If they could constantly monitor the flow of information throughout the city...
"But our voices are cut off," Dreadlocks said when she explained. "If we can't get sound out, his head won't receive it, right? Besides, he might not even come to help us. What if Eight-Heads De is behind all this—"
He stopped abruptly, realizing who he was speaking to. Lin Sanjiu's loyalty to Eight-Heads De was unmistakable.
Now wasn't the time to explain. Lin Sanjiu furrowed her brow in thought, then suddenly had an idea. She opened her hand, and a card appeared.
"I came to Chimeric City for this," she said, holding up a small white box. "It's a personal terminal for the Beacon-Wolf Signal system. Eight-Heads De's broadcasts can hijack any communication system, right? If we use the Beacon-Wolf Signal to send him a message, maybe he'll receive it."
Dreadlocks blinked, then his eyes lit up. "Of course! Someone like you can definitely afford a personal terminal. Yeah, let's try it. He's always got his finger on the pulse, whether it's gossip or news; he'll know."
Lin Sanjiu had never used the white box before. After a few minutes of fumbling, she found the message-sending function. "Eight-Heads De" was a well-known, public address in every system. She hoped her message wouldn't drown in a flood of fan mail.
"Eight-Heads De, if you get this message, please contact me immediately. We're trapped by a spatial item..." She paused. She didn't know exactly where they were. "We're at Dreadlocks' guard post. We need help."
Dreadlocks didn't seem bothered by his nickname.
"Don't tell anyone. Come alone as soon as possible," Lin Sanjiu added. "I think I've discovered the cause of the mutations."
Dreadlocks whispered, "Will he come?"
If Eight-Heads De wasn't the one who set the trap, he would come, especially after that last sentence. Lin Sanjiu had a hunch about who set the trap, and she had already ruled out Eight-Heads De.
"Let's hope he gets it," she murmured, pressing the green ring to confirm the message. Just as the message was sent, the white box chimed loudly. Startled, she fumbled with it before realizing someone had sent her a reply.
Eight-Heads De's usually calm, steady voice sounded strained, almost on the verge of breaking. Having cleared up the confusion about names, Lin Sanjiu heard her name echoing urgently through the darkness.
"Lin Sanjiu, where are you? Why can't I find you? Someone is trying to kill me—I don't know who. I can barely hold them off!"