1605

Chapter 1606: The Meat Chickens’ Counterattack

As chickens raised for meat, their greatest danger actually stems from their complete ignorance of pocket dimensions—Wu Yiliu was confident that as long as both sides had the same amount of information, he would never be caught off guard.

Compared to other pocket dimension reconnoiters, Wu Yiliu had encountered, a.n.a.lyzed, and tested a significant number of pocket dimensions. Over the years, he’d gradually discerned patterns, categorizing these dimensions into a few types.

The first type had clear rules and was neutral and fair—usually game-like dimensions where what you can and cannot do is well-defined. Players follow the guidelines, making it relatively worry-free.

The second type placed you in a narrative setting, giving you only a basic direction to move forward and some restrictions. How you proceeded was entirely up to you, as you slowly discovered the boundaries and tried to expand your room to maneuver. The penalties for making mistakes could vary, but if you didn’t take risks, you’d be stuck in place. This was more troublesome than the first type, but it was still not the most frustrating.

The type Wu Yiliu disliked the most was the third.

At first glance, this third type of pocket dimension seemed very open. There was no host, no guide—everything seemed possible, as if you could go anywhere and do anything. But everyone knew that hidden rules were definitely at play, you just didn’t know what they were.

Even when a few rules were revealed, they were often vague. At critical moments, they could be as flexible as a rubber band—no one knew how far they could stretch or how they might be interpreted. The more ambiguous the rules, the less freedom you actually had—after all, who knows what would cause a violation?

The Driver pocket dimension belonged to this third type and was even more exasperating. From Christo’s description, it seemed completely biased in favor of the players, leaving little advantage for the chickens—there was still some, but it was minimal.

Entering the Driver pocket dimension was like being reincarnated. Some were lucky and became players. Those who end up in the arena—whether tricked or by accident—became chickens, forced to defend themselves constantly. A moment of carelessness, and they’d end up like Pence and Cuining, forever trapped as someone else’s prey.

Wu Yiliu and Abby stood at the edge of the forest, looking towards a brightly lit cabin in the distance.

The heavy rain had stopped, but dusk was approaching. The recently cleared sky now looked as if it was being pushed back underwater, with a blood-red hue slowly rising from the west.

Pence and Cuining stood framed by two bright windows, their faces obscured by the backlight. But their features hadn’t changed.

It was as if they knew Wu Yiliu and Abby were planning to return. Despite their gazes meeting, they didn’t come out to chase them. For a few seconds, the two sides simply stared silently at each other across the trees and the clearing.

Abby was the first to break the silence.

“Are we… really going back?” she asked quietly. “They’re beyond saving, aren’t they?”

They were.

In theory, Wu Yiliu could save Pence and Cuining the same way he saved Abby—but that was no longer possible.

Wu Yiliu had confirmed with Christo that players could still communicate with each other when they crossed paths. Now that the lights in the cabin had turned back on, it meant that Pence and Cuining had been successfully brainwashed—they turned on the lights to guide the remaining two players back.

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While Wu Yiliu was talking with Christo, the effect on “Abby” should have worn off; having lost track of the chickens, it was much more likely that she’d follow the lights back to the cabin, waiting for Christo to herd them in like sheep. Once “Abby” reached the cabin, it wouldn’t be long before she informed the other two players of everything that had happened.

The opportunity to explain things to Pence and Cuining was lost when saving Abby.

Since they were beyond saving, Wu Yiliu s.h.i.+fted his focus to how best to use this situation—he was never one to cry over spilled milk.

“Let’s go,” he urged quietly. “We need to act fast before Christo returns.”

The [Priest’s Roman Collar] effect lasted for ten minutes. When there were only three minutes left, Wu Yiliu stopped asking questions and issued a command to Christo: head east at full speed and go as far as possible—this was the Father’s will, and the sincerity of his conversion would be judged by how far he could run in three minutes.

When the [Priest’s Roman Collar] took effect, both parties had to be within forty centimeters of each other; once active, Christo would be influenced until the effect wore off. So even though Wu Yiliu couldn’t see Christo leaving, he was confident that he had sent him far away. As soon as that unseen “soul” departed, Wu Yiliu grabbed Abby, and they dashed towards the cabin without stopping.

Abby hesitated, seemingly not fully giving up on the idea of running away.

“It seems they never intended to tell us the truth. Christo claimed all four of them were from Zhaibing Inst.i.tute, but I’ve never even heard of this organization,” Wu Yiliu said as they sprinted. “He told me that when the cabin lights were turned on the first time, it served as a marking—anyone inside the cabin at that moment was marked as a chicken.”

“The first time the lights were turned on? That’s so unfair! Who could’ve guessed—”

“You’re a pocket dimension reconnoiter yourself. You should know by now that many pocket dimensions are no different from traps,” Wu Yiliu replied, his breath quick but mind steady—he felt like he’d built up a resistance, though he’d heard that people who stayed calm in emergencies often had personality issues. He wasn’t sure if that was true. “Once you’re marked as a chicken, there’s no way out of this forest, and no one from outside can get in.”

Abby was so startled she almost tripped.

“We can run just like the other players can, but no matter how far you go, the forest will keep stretching endlessly ahead of you. Have you noticed? We’ve been walking through the forest for so long, but we haven’t seen a single downhill slope.”

“We can’t escape, we can’t fight back, and the only path the pocket dimension leaves us is death?” Abby’s face turned pale.

“There’s one other way,” Wu Yiliu replied. “You can teleport out.”

“I can’t teleport for another four months,” Abby said, stopping abruptly. “That’s all the more reason we shouldn’t head to the cabin where the players are gathered! You said the forest expands the farther we go, right? If I just keep running, maybe I won’t be able to escape, but they might not be able to catch up either…”

“Run for four months straight?” Wu Yiliu glanced back at her. “You’re still in a physical body. Sooner or later, you’ll need to eat and sleep, while the players in their spirit forms never tire. And they move through the darkness much faster than you can on foot through the forest.”

“Then what do we do?” Abby asked, her voice near pleading. “Can we kill them?”

Wu Yiliu didn’t want to give her false hope. “No.”

Abby stood frozen for a few seconds. “H-How is that possible?” she asked, her lips trembling. “I’ve seen dozens of pocket dimensions, but I’ve never seen such a huge power imbalance between the two sides… This is a total slaughter, completely one-sided. How could a pocket dimension be this unfair? I—I—”

“This is my first time seeing this, too,” Wu Yiliu said, without wasting time trying to comfort her. He grabbed her arm and kept running as he spoke, “The gap is real, but it’s not a total dead end for the chickens. If they have the ability to use words to affect the players, or have a Special Item, they could fight back—just like your [Priest’s Roman Collar].”

“It only lasts for ten minutes, and it doesn’t stop them from harming us, so what good is it?”

“From another perspective, the players can only brainwash us with whispers—they can’t cause any real physical harm. They have no physical bodies. They can’t hurt us, and they can’t physically stop us either.”

Wu Yiliu’s feet seemed to move as quickly as his mind. Seeing the cabin ahead in the clearing, he sped up his speech, “The rules of this pocket dimension are vague. I think going back to the cabin might give us a way out. For example, what would happen if the object they used for brainwas.h.i.+ng was destroyed?”

“Do you have a way to resist the whispering?” Abby asked.

There were many ways to block hearing, but none of them worked—the whispers were part of the pocket dimension’s effect and were often inaudible. Blocking your ears wouldn’t stop the brainwas.h.i.+ng. Before Wu Yiliu could figure out how to respond, they reached the edge of the forest and stopped abruptly. Across the clearing, Pence and Cuining were staring at them through the orange-tinted windows of the cabin.

The player occupying Abby’s body was likely already in the cabin, and as soon as they stepped inside, the whispers would begin. Wu Yiliu didn’t know which of them would be targeted, but he and Abby held hands tightly and entered the cabin side by side. That way, if one of them got brainwashed and went for the blanket, the other would notice.

The man and woman standing by the living room window turned slowly to face them. Pence and Cuining looked at them with blank expressions—one wore a hoodie, the other a baseball cap. The blanket still lay limply over the arm of the sofa, just a few steps away.

The pocket dimension seemed to have progressed to the point where no more warnings were needed—the TV was off, and without the cartoon figures, it looked just like an ordinary television.

“Abby,” Wu Yiliu whispered to the blonde woman beside him, “I need to make some preparations. I need you to subdue Pence and Cuining and throw them onto the couch. You might get brainwashed during the process, so you need to act fast. Can you do that?”

Chapter 1606: The Meat Chickens’ Counterattack

As chickens raised for meat, their greatest danger actually stems from their complete ignorance of pocket dimensions—Wu Yiliu was confident that as long as both sides had the same amount of information, he would never be caught off guard.

Compared to other pocket dimension reconnoiters, Wu Yiliu had encountered, a.n.a.lyzed, and tested a significant number of pocket dimensions. Over the years, he’d gradually discerned patterns, categorizing these dimensions into a few types.

The first type had clear rules and was neutral and fair—usually game-like dimensions where what you can and cannot do is well-defined. Players follow the guidelines, making it relatively worry-free.

The second type placed you in a narrative setting, giving you only a basic direction to move forward and some restrictions. How you proceeded was entirely up to you, as you slowly discovered the boundaries and tried to expand your room to maneuver. The penalties for making mistakes could vary, but if you didn’t take risks, you’d be stuck in place. This was more troublesome than the first type, but it was still not the most frustrating.

The type Wu Yiliu disliked the most was the third.

At first glance, this third type of pocket dimension seemed very open. There was no host, no guide—everything seemed possible, as if you could go anywhere and do anything. But everyone knew that hidden rules were definitely at play, you just didn’t know what they were.

Even when a few rules were revealed, they were often vague. At critical moments, they could be as flexible as a rubber band—no one knew how far they could stretch or how they might be interpreted. The more ambiguous the rules, the less freedom you actually had—after all, who knows what would cause a violation?

The Driver pocket dimension belonged to this third type and was even more exasperating. From Christo’s description, it seemed completely biased in favor of the players, leaving little advantage for the chickens—there was still some, but it was minimal.

Entering the Driver pocket dimension was like being reincarnated. Some were lucky and became players. Those who end up in the arena—whether tricked or by accident—became chickens, forced to defend themselves constantly. A moment of carelessness, and they’d end up like Pence and Cuining, forever trapped as someone else’s prey.

Wu Yiliu and Abby stood at the edge of the forest, looking towards a brightly lit cabin in the distance.

The heavy rain had stopped, but dusk was approaching. The recently cleared sky now looked as if it was being pushed back underwater, with a blood-red hue slowly rising from the west.

Pence and Cuining stood framed by two bright windows, their faces obscured by the backlight. But their features hadn’t changed.

It was as if they knew Wu Yiliu and Abby were planning to return. Despite their gazes meeting, they didn’t come out to chase them. For a few seconds, the two sides simply stared silently at each other across the trees and the clearing.

Abby was the first to break the silence.

“Are we… really going back?” she asked quietly. “They’re beyond saving, aren’t they?”

They were.

In theory, Wu Yiliu could save Pence and Cuining the same way he saved Abby—but that was no longer possible.

Wu Yiliu had confirmed with Christo that players could still communicate with each other when they crossed paths. Now that the lights in the cabin had turned back on, it meant that Pence and Cuining had been successfully brainwashed—they turned on the lights to guide the remaining two players back.

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While Wu Yiliu was talking with Christo, the effect on “Abby” should have worn off; having lost track of the chickens, it was much more likely that she’d follow the lights back to the cabin, waiting for Christo to herd them in like sheep. Once “Abby” reached the cabin, it wouldn’t be long before she informed the other two players of everything that had happened.

The opportunity to explain things to Pence and Cuining was lost when saving Abby.

Since they were beyond saving, Wu Yiliu s.h.i.+fted his focus to how best to use this situation—he was never one to cry over spilled milk.

“Let’s go,” he urged quietly. “We need to act fast before Christo returns.”

The [Priest’s Roman Collar] effect lasted for ten minutes. When there were only three minutes left, Wu Yiliu stopped asking questions and issued a command to Christo: head east at full speed and go as far as possible—this was the Father’s will, and the sincerity of his conversion would be judged by how far he could run in three minutes.

When the [Priest’s Roman Collar] took effect, both parties had to be within forty centimeters of each other; once active, Christo would be influenced until the effect wore off. So even though Wu Yiliu couldn’t see Christo leaving, he was confident that he had sent him far away. As soon as that unseen “soul” departed, Wu Yiliu grabbed Abby, and they dashed towards the cabin without stopping.

Abby hesitated, seemingly not fully giving up on the idea of running away.

“It seems they never intended to tell us the truth. Christo claimed all four of them were from Zhaibing Inst.i.tute, but I’ve never even heard of this organization,” Wu Yiliu said as they sprinted. “He told me that when the cabin lights were turned on the first time, it served as a marking—anyone inside the cabin at that moment was marked as a chicken.”

“The first time the lights were turned on? That’s so unfair! Who could’ve guessed—”

“You’re a pocket dimension reconnoiter yourself. You should know by now that many pocket dimensions are no different from traps,” Wu Yiliu replied, his breath quick but mind steady—he felt like he’d built up a resistance, though he’d heard that people who stayed calm in emergencies often had personality issues. He wasn’t sure if that was true. “Once you’re marked as a chicken, there’s no way out of this forest, and no one from outside can get in.”

Abby was so startled she almost tripped.

“We can run just like the other players can, but no matter how far you go, the forest will keep stretching endlessly ahead of you. Have you noticed? We’ve been walking through the forest for so long, but we haven’t seen a single downhill slope.”

“We can’t escape, we can’t fight back, and the only path the pocket dimension leaves us is death?” Abby’s face turned pale.

“There’s one other way,” Wu Yiliu replied. “You can teleport out.”

“I can’t teleport for another four months,” Abby said, stopping abruptly. “That’s all the more reason we shouldn’t head to the cabin where the players are gathered! You said the forest expands the farther we go, right? If I just keep running, maybe I won’t be able to escape, but they might not be able to catch up either…”

“Run for four months straight?” Wu Yiliu glanced back at her. “You’re still in a physical body. Sooner or later, you’ll need to eat and sleep, while the players in their spirit forms never tire. And they move through the darkness much faster than you can on foot through the forest.”

“Then what do we do?” Abby asked, her voice near pleading. “Can we kill them?”

Wu Yiliu didn’t want to give her false hope. “No.”

Abby stood frozen for a few seconds. “H-How is that possible?” she asked, her lips trembling. “I’ve seen dozens of pocket dimensions, but I’ve never seen such a huge power imbalance between the two sides… This is a total slaughter, completely one-sided. How could a pocket dimension be this unfair? I—I—”

“This is my first time seeing this, too,” Wu Yiliu said, without wasting time trying to comfort her. He grabbed her arm and kept running as he spoke, “The gap is real, but it’s not a total dead end for the chickens. If they have the ability to use words to affect the players, or have a Special Item, they could fight back—just like your [Priest’s Roman Collar].”

“It only lasts for ten minutes, and it doesn’t stop them from harming us, so what good is it?”

“From another perspective, the players can only brainwash us with whispers—they can’t cause any real physical harm. They have no physical bodies. They can’t hurt us, and they can’t physically stop us either.”

Wu Yiliu’s feet seemed to move as quickly as his mind. Seeing the cabin ahead in the clearing, he sped up his speech, “The rules of this pocket dimension are vague. I think going back to the cabin might give us a way out. For example, what would happen if the object they used for brainwas.h.i.+ng was destroyed?”

“Do you have a way to resist the whispering?” Abby asked.

There were many ways to block hearing, but none of them worked—the whispers were part of the pocket dimension’s effect and were often inaudible. Blocking your ears wouldn’t stop the brainwas.h.i.+ng. Before Wu Yiliu could figure out how to respond, they reached the edge of the forest and stopped abruptly. Across the clearing, Pence and Cuining were staring at them through the orange-tinted windows of the cabin.

The player occupying Abby’s body was likely already in the cabin, and as soon as they stepped inside, the whispers would begin. Wu Yiliu didn’t know which of them would be targeted, but he and Abby held hands tightly and entered the cabin side by side. That way, if one of them got brainwashed and went for the blanket, the other would notice.

The man and woman standing by the living room window turned slowly to face them. Pence and Cuining looked at them with blank expressions—one wore a hoodie, the other a baseball cap. The blanket still lay limply over the arm of the sofa, just a few steps away.

The pocket dimension seemed to have progressed to the point where no more warnings were needed—the TV was off, and without the cartoon figures, it looked just like an ordinary television.

“Abby,” Wu Yiliu whispered to the blonde woman beside him, “I need to make some preparations. I need you to subdue Pence and Cuining and throw them onto the couch. You might get brainwashed during the process, so you need to act fast. Can you do that?”