1575

Doomsday Wonderland Chapter 1575: What Wu Yiliu Hasn’t Told the Readers

Chapter 1575: What Wu Yiliu Hasn’t Told the Readers

It has to be said that Milan is a good person.

When her hand landed on his shoulder, the fear was real, and very intense — a natural emotional reaction that Wu Yiliu couldn’t control — but he rationally knew clearly that she was just trying to scare him and wouldn’t really hurt him.

Or, at least, she wouldn’t hurt him before she was absolutely sure he was planning to entrap or betray posthumans. Wu Yiliu, of course, hadn’t given her any reason to arrive at this conclusion; as she left, Milan made it clear. “You better remember, I can find you whenever I want.”

“Is that so? Good,” Wu Yiliu said, suppressing the lingering chill in his belly. “When you need my help, you won’t have to worry about not finding me.”

Milan stared at him, almost as if she wanted to smile, but she didn’t. She was very perceptive; she probably had a vague feeling that Wu Yiliu knew and was involved in more than he had revealed. But she couldn’t even be sure if it was just her imagination, as every question she posed was met with a truthful and detailed answer.

Of course, this situation was something Wu Yiliu had worked hard to achieve. He had only one method for how to make someone believe him to the fullest extent: tell the truth.

Feeling both that he hadn’t lied and that there was something off about the situation, it seemed that Milan was torn in a rather sympathetic way.

As she finally prepared to leave, Wu Yiliu quickly called out to stop her. “In case there’s any new information on my end, how do I find you?”

Milan obviously hesitated for a few seconds before taking out a white paper crane and briefly explaining how to use it.

“You must be very careful now,” Wu Yiliu said, his voice full of sincere concern.

This paper crane was the first Special Item he had ever seen. Even after Milan had disappeared around the corner for quite some time, he was still standing there, turning the little paper crane over and over, filled with astonishment and curiosity.

He carefully folded and flattened the paper crane, thinking. Now was the only chance to hide it; Milan had just left, and the unknown waiting for him hadn’t happened yet.

With that thought, he took off his belt. He was still standing by the road, with people pa.s.sing by, and suddenly removing his belt was certainly an eye-catching act — but attracting the attention of a Changeling didn’t mean arousing their suspicion.

It might even be said that such a thing was just what a Changeling might do; like urinating by the roadside. They didn’t care where they were or what they were doing, or how it might affect those around them.

Wu Yiliu clamped the belt between his knees — he didn’t dare put it on the ground, as anything left unattended might be s.n.a.t.c.hed up — and then, he reached back to the leather patch on his jeans.

His fingers lifted a flap of the leather patch, and his other hand took out the paper crane, carefully inserting it inside. He was tall, with large hands, and his T-s.h.i.+rt covered his movements; to pa.s.sersby, it looked as though he had just stopped to adjust his waistband.

But simply inserting it into the jeans patch wouldn’t ease his mind, as the paper crane might still fall out from both ends, despite the rough interior of the leather. Wu Yiliu reattached the belt to his waist, only this time, instead of threading it through the leather patch, he ran it outside, tightly pinning both the patch and the paper crane within.

After securing his belt, he twisted and bent to test it for a while, finding the paper crane firmly fixed in place.

‘That would do,’ Wu Yiliu thought, ‘it won’t be discovered when changing clothes.’

He straightened his attire, felt the zipper of his backpack to ensure it hadn’t been secretly opened, and continued to walk forward. Not far ahead was a bus stop, and a bus heading to Professor Qiao’s house was slowly pulling in, ready to stop. Wu Yiliu walked past the bus stop without a glance, as if he didn’t recognize the route.

He hadn’t seen Professor Qiao for three days.

He thought that the old lady’s home would become his refuge for an unknown period, but he never expected that after leaving her home for the first time, he would never be able to return.

After pa.s.sing the bus station and walking to the zebra crossing at the street corner, Wu Yiliu stopped at the red light. The red light itself did not mean “stop”; this was something he had recently learned from the Changelings. The red light was merely a reminder, warning you that a car might be coming as you crossed the road. Of course, cars might come when the light was green, too—the difference was only in the number, whether many or few. In fact, whether it was red or green, both people and vehicles would move forward whenever there was s.p.a.ce to do so.

He had only stopped for a moment when someone approached him and muttered, “Why did it take so long?”

Without turning his head, Wu Yiliu knew who it was. “Aren’t you afraid that Milan will see us talking?”

“She can’t see us,” the voice said coolly, laughing a little. “She left this area a long time ago. What did you say earlier?”

What he had told Milan was of no harm to repeat, but it seemed that the person did not believe that Wu Yiliu would honestly divulge the information; without waiting for Wu Yiliu to answer, the person slowly said, “What, didn’t expect to see me there, did you? I never thought you’d be so unreliable.”

Indeed, Wu Yiliu never expected to see this person in that bas.e.m.e.nt. He answered as calmly as possible, “It takes one to know one. What are you going to do with me now?”

“For an ordinary person, you’re quite brave,” the person said with a snort. “Has the Professor surnamed Qiao been infected?”

Wu Yiliu sighed. “I did not lie. She’s been infected, and I have nowhere to go. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been caught by you.”

The person fell silent, seemingly considering something. The red light in front had not yet changed, but many people were already crossing—several times, cars had to swerve sharply to avoid hitting them, the screeching of tires only second to the cursing that followed from the drivers.

Wu Yiliu wondered how long it would be before he saw cars unwilling to risk stopping, hitting people and driving straight on. According to Professor Qiao, she had seen roads stained with blood and torn limbs from such accidents. Yet, at the time, she hadn’t thought much of it—an occasional traffic accident was normal, and it couldn’t be avoided, even if they happened more frequently. That was the Changeling Professor Qiao rationalizing what she saw and heard in an instant; it seemed only a few months ago.

“Haven’t you decided what to do with me yet?” Wu Yiliu probed.

The person snorted, seeming a bit surprised. “Aren’t you afraid?”

He was terrified, never expecting to see a familiar face among the gathered posthumans; but showing any sign of fear would be the end of him. In fact, he was consciously controlling his breath, knowing that posthumans had acute hearing, and he feared that the other party would detect something unusual in his heartbeat or breathing.

“Because this is a task I just received.” He even turned to smile at the person, meeting their gaze for a moment before looking away. “Didn’t you know? Reminding some of the posthumans to find infected ones is actually a way to lure them to our side.”

The woman, gaunt as if even her internal organs had shriveled, didn’t say a word.

“They probably don’t trust us yet,” Wu Yiliu said, shrugging. “They didn’t tell you about my task or tell me about yours. When I saw you there, I almost fell off my chair.”

“Enough,” she snapped at him, sounding genuinely irritated. The sound was like a physical slap, causing Wu Yiliu to almost stumble. “You’re just working in the same place as me. Don’t act like we’re equals. Remember, you’re just an ordinary person.”

Wu Yiliu was neither angry nor afraid. “Are you going back too? Want to go together?”

The gaunt woman seemed unwilling to answer him. After waiting for a while, Wu Yiliu turned and realized she had disappeared. When he realized he had fooled her, he was nearly overwhelmed by a sense of relief. ‘Another hurdle overcome,’ he thought.

Wu Yiliu obediently walked to another bus stop, caught another bus, and rode to the end of the line. Technically, they should never leave to avoid being seen by posthumans, but this facility had just been established, and the Changeling were organizing this for the first time, so oversights were inevitable. He suspected that once everything was on track, he would never have the opportunity to leave again.

When he reached the entrance enclosed by a makes.h.i.+ft construction wall, Wu Yiliu stopped, took out his ID from his backpack, and handed it to the guard. “I work here,” he explained.

“What do you do?”

“I’m a pocket dimension NPC.”

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Doomsday Wonderland Chapter 1575: What Wu Yiliu Hasn’t Told the Readers

Chapter 1575: What Wu Yiliu Hasn’t Told the Readers

It has to be said that Milan is a good person.

When her hand landed on his shoulder, the fear was real, and very intense — a natural emotional reaction that Wu Yiliu couldn’t control — but he rationally knew clearly that she was just trying to scare him and wouldn’t really hurt him.

Or, at least, she wouldn’t hurt him before she was absolutely sure he was planning to entrap or betray posthumans. Wu Yiliu, of course, hadn’t given her any reason to arrive at this conclusion; as she left, Milan made it clear. “You better remember, I can find you whenever I want.”

“Is that so? Good,” Wu Yiliu said, suppressing the lingering chill in his belly. “When you need my help, you won’t have to worry about not finding me.”

Milan stared at him, almost as if she wanted to smile, but she didn’t. She was very perceptive; she probably had a vague feeling that Wu Yiliu knew and was involved in more than he had revealed. But she couldn’t even be sure if it was just her imagination, as every question she posed was met with a truthful and detailed answer.

Of course, this situation was something Wu Yiliu had worked hard to achieve. He had only one method for how to make someone believe him to the fullest extent: tell the truth.

Feeling both that he hadn’t lied and that there was something off about the situation, it seemed that Milan was torn in a rather sympathetic way.

As she finally prepared to leave, Wu Yiliu quickly called out to stop her. “In case there’s any new information on my end, how do I find you?”

Milan obviously hesitated for a few seconds before taking out a white paper crane and briefly explaining how to use it.

“You must be very careful now,” Wu Yiliu said, his voice full of sincere concern.

This paper crane was the first Special Item he had ever seen. Even after Milan had disappeared around the corner for quite some time, he was still standing there, turning the little paper crane over and over, filled with astonishment and curiosity.

He carefully folded and flattened the paper crane, thinking. Now was the only chance to hide it; Milan had just left, and the unknown waiting for him hadn’t happened yet.

With that thought, he took off his belt. He was still standing by the road, with people pa.s.sing by, and suddenly removing his belt was certainly an eye-catching act — but attracting the attention of a Changeling didn’t mean arousing their suspicion.

It might even be said that such a thing was just what a Changeling might do; like urinating by the roadside. They didn’t care where they were or what they were doing, or how it might affect those around them.

Wu Yiliu clamped the belt between his knees — he didn’t dare put it on the ground, as anything left unattended might be s.n.a.t.c.hed up — and then, he reached back to the leather patch on his jeans.

His fingers lifted a flap of the leather patch, and his other hand took out the paper crane, carefully inserting it inside. He was tall, with large hands, and his T-s.h.i.+rt covered his movements; to pa.s.sersby, it looked as though he had just stopped to adjust his waistband.

But simply inserting it into the jeans patch wouldn’t ease his mind, as the paper crane might still fall out from both ends, despite the rough interior of the leather. Wu Yiliu reattached the belt to his waist, only this time, instead of threading it through the leather patch, he ran it outside, tightly pinning both the patch and the paper crane within.

After securing his belt, he twisted and bent to test it for a while, finding the paper crane firmly fixed in place.

‘That would do,’ Wu Yiliu thought, ‘it won’t be discovered when changing clothes.’

He straightened his attire, felt the zipper of his backpack to ensure it hadn’t been secretly opened, and continued to walk forward. Not far ahead was a bus stop, and a bus heading to Professor Qiao’s house was slowly pulling in, ready to stop. Wu Yiliu walked past the bus stop without a glance, as if he didn’t recognize the route.

He hadn’t seen Professor Qiao for three days.

He thought that the old lady’s home would become his refuge for an unknown period, but he never expected that after leaving her home for the first time, he would never be able to return.

After pa.s.sing the bus station and walking to the zebra crossing at the street corner, Wu Yiliu stopped at the red light. The red light itself did not mean “stop”; this was something he had recently learned from the Changelings. The red light was merely a reminder, warning you that a car might be coming as you crossed the road. Of course, cars might come when the light was green, too—the difference was only in the number, whether many or few. In fact, whether it was red or green, both people and vehicles would move forward whenever there was s.p.a.ce to do so.

He had only stopped for a moment when someone approached him and muttered, “Why did it take so long?”

Without turning his head, Wu Yiliu knew who it was. “Aren’t you afraid that Milan will see us talking?”

“She can’t see us,” the voice said coolly, laughing a little. “She left this area a long time ago. What did you say earlier?”

What he had told Milan was of no harm to repeat, but it seemed that the person did not believe that Wu Yiliu would honestly divulge the information; without waiting for Wu Yiliu to answer, the person slowly said, “What, didn’t expect to see me there, did you? I never thought you’d be so unreliable.”

Indeed, Wu Yiliu never expected to see this person in that bas.e.m.e.nt. He answered as calmly as possible, “It takes one to know one. What are you going to do with me now?”

“For an ordinary person, you’re quite brave,” the person said with a snort. “Has the Professor surnamed Qiao been infected?”

Wu Yiliu sighed. “I did not lie. She’s been infected, and I have nowhere to go. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been caught by you.”

The person fell silent, seemingly considering something. The red light in front had not yet changed, but many people were already crossing—several times, cars had to swerve sharply to avoid hitting them, the screeching of tires only second to the cursing that followed from the drivers.

Wu Yiliu wondered how long it would be before he saw cars unwilling to risk stopping, hitting people and driving straight on. According to Professor Qiao, she had seen roads stained with blood and torn limbs from such accidents. Yet, at the time, she hadn’t thought much of it—an occasional traffic accident was normal, and it couldn’t be avoided, even if they happened more frequently. That was the Changeling Professor Qiao rationalizing what she saw and heard in an instant; it seemed only a few months ago.

“Haven’t you decided what to do with me yet?” Wu Yiliu probed.

The person snorted, seeming a bit surprised. “Aren’t you afraid?”

He was terrified, never expecting to see a familiar face among the gathered posthumans; but showing any sign of fear would be the end of him. In fact, he was consciously controlling his breath, knowing that posthumans had acute hearing, and he feared that the other party would detect something unusual in his heartbeat or breathing.

“Because this is a task I just received.” He even turned to smile at the person, meeting their gaze for a moment before looking away. “Didn’t you know? Reminding some of the posthumans to find infected ones is actually a way to lure them to our side.”

The woman, gaunt as if even her internal organs had shriveled, didn’t say a word.

“They probably don’t trust us yet,” Wu Yiliu said, shrugging. “They didn’t tell you about my task or tell me about yours. When I saw you there, I almost fell off my chair.”

“Enough,” she snapped at him, sounding genuinely irritated. The sound was like a physical slap, causing Wu Yiliu to almost stumble. “You’re just working in the same place as me. Don’t act like we’re equals. Remember, you’re just an ordinary person.”

Wu Yiliu was neither angry nor afraid. “Are you going back too? Want to go together?”

The gaunt woman seemed unwilling to answer him. After waiting for a while, Wu Yiliu turned and realized she had disappeared. When he realized he had fooled her, he was nearly overwhelmed by a sense of relief. ‘Another hurdle overcome,’ he thought.

Wu Yiliu obediently walked to another bus stop, caught another bus, and rode to the end of the line. Technically, they should never leave to avoid being seen by posthumans, but this facility had just been established, and the Changeling were organizing this for the first time, so oversights were inevitable. He suspected that once everything was on track, he would never have the opportunity to leave again.

When he reached the entrance enclosed by a makes.h.i.+ft construction wall, Wu Yiliu stopped, took out his ID from his backpack, and handed it to the guard. “I work here,” he explained.

“What do you do?”

“I’m a pocket dimension NPC.”

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