Dimensional Hotel

Yu Sheng was jolted awake by the shrill ring of his phone. Groggy and disoriented, he squinted to see the two Irenes sprawled in their usual bizarre sleeping positions—one hanging precariously off the foot of the bed, the other draped awkwardly over the nightstand. His phone buzzed insistently beside his pillow.

Answering it, he barely had time to say a word before Little Red Riding Hood’s panicked voice blurted out on the other end, “Yu Sheng! You’re dead!”

The statement shocked him into full consciousness.

His first thought was about the declining politeness of today’s youth. His second was wondering how on earth he might have offended her enough to warrant such an early, cryptic call. The accusation carried more weight than the sandbox in the orphanage courtyard.

Before he could respond, Little Red Riding Hood scrambled to correct herself. “Wait! No! That’s not what I meant! I—my mind’s all jumbled. What I meant was—I saw you dead! No, that’s not it either! I remembered you were dead—wait, that’s not—ugh, yes! That’s it! I just remembered!”

Her frantic explanation only solidified Yu Sheng’s hunch. Suppressing a chuckle, he cleared his throat to cut her off. “Okay, okay, stop. I get it. No need to explain anymore.”

“You get it?” Her confusion was almost palpable. “How are you so calm about this?”

“Well, it’s not the first time,” Yu Sheng replied, sitting up in bed. “Anyone who’s been exposed to my blood eventually remembers… certain things. Irene and Foxy both went through the same process. I figured you’d get there too. It’s just that the ‘wolf’ barrier added a delay for you—quite the delay, actually.”

The line went silent. Yu Sheng imagined Little Red Riding Hood staring at her phone, utterly baffled by his calm demeanor. Finally, her voice returned, soft and hesitant. “You—how can you sound so nonchalant about it?”

“Because I’ve been expecting it,” Yu Sheng explained. “Good news: next time you visit me at Wutong Road No. 66, you won’t need me to open the door—you’ll be able to see the house yourself. Bad news: if you see me die right in front of you, it might be… startling. The ‘forgetting’ mechanism won’t work on you anymore.”

There was another pause before she responded. “You’re seriously okay with all this?”

“Sure,” Yu Sheng replied lightly. “Irene and Foxy have adapted, and I’ve adapted. You will too. It gets easier.”

The two Irenes, awakened by the commotion, groggily stretched and mumbled greetings. “Morning… yawn…” they said in unison—just before both tumbled off their precarious perches onto the floor.

Yu Sheng scooped up the one from the nightstand, who rubbed her head in a daze. “You and Foxy went too far yesterday,” she grumbled. “You ate barbecue while I had to watch—and then you roasted me with the meat!”

“That was to dry your clothes,” Yu Sheng said, rolling his eyes. “You’re the one who fell into the soup pot.”

“But you didn’t have to skewer me on a stick!” she huffed.

Yu Sheng shrugged. “What’s done is done. Let’s move on.”

Before the doll could escalate the argument, he waved his phone. “By the way, Little Red Riding Hood’s like you and Foxy now.”

Irene blinked, processing his words, then hesitantly asked, “It just activated?”

“Just now,” Yu Sheng confirmed. “And it seems like it scared her.”

“This generation of high schoolers…” Irene muttered. “So bad at handling surprises.”

The phone crackled with Little Red Riding Hood’s voice again. “It’s not about handling surprises! Anyone would be like this dealing with you!”

Yu Sheng chuckled. “Feeling better now?”

“Sort of,” she sighed. “How many people know your… secret?”

“It’s not really a secret, just an odd mechanism that causes people to recall,” Yu Sheng explained. “So far, it’s you, Irene, and Foxy. In theory, Xiao Xiao could know too—she’s shared my blood—but she hasn’t seen me die yet, so she doesn’t.”

“Don’t scare her!” Little Red Riding Hood snapped.

“Relax, I’m not going to stage my death in front of a kid for fun.”

“But what if you’re tempted?”

Yu Sheng groaned. Was that really how she saw him? A reckless lunatic?

His musings were interrupted by another call. “The Special Affairs Bureau is calling,” he said quickly. “Anything else on your end?”

“No, just the shock of realizing you were dead. Go ahead.”

Yu Sheng hung up and answered the new call. “This is Yu Sheng.”

Bai Li Qing’s composed voice greeted him. “I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

“Not at all. I’m awake. Is the lab ready?”

“Yes. The analysis lab is set, the expert team is on standby, and your requested materials are prepared. A car will pick you up in thirty minutes.”

“Understood. I’ll be ready.”

After hanging up, Yu Sheng leaped into action, dressing and washing up in record time. Tossing two combs to the Irenes, he said, “Get ready. We’re going to the Bureau today. And wake Foxy—there’s no time for breakfast otherwise.”

One Irene replied, “No need. She’s already in the kitchen—I heard noises downstairs.”

Yu Sheng froze. “The stew in the fridge—”

“It’s probably gone,” the doll said dryly. “You left half a wolf carcass in her tail. What did you expect?”

Yu Sheng sighed in defeat. Sure enough, when they reached the kitchen, Foxy sat at the table, groggy but satisfied, an empty pot before her. At least she’d saved him a neatly plated breakfast, which she offered with a proud smile.

Twenty minutes later, they stood outside the house, waiting for their ride. Irene looked around. “Does this count as the entire team moving out?”

“Not really,” Yu Sheng replied. “You left half of yourself behind to watch TV.”

Soon, the rattle of an old engine echoed down the street. A beat-up car pulled up, and its window rolled down to reveal Xu Jiali.

“Why is it always you?” Yu Sheng sighed.

“Our original car broke down,” Xu Jiali admitted sheepishly. “I was nearby, so I got sent.”

Squeezing into the cramped backseat with Irene and Foxy, Yu Sheng muttered, “For such a big organization, you’re awfully short on resources.”

Xu Jiali sighed. “What can I say? The machine soul isn’t cooperating.”

Yu Sheng quipped, “Could you describe it more elegantly?”

“Different regions have different styles,” Xu Jiali explained. “At the Academy, it’s gothic: ‘machine soul displeased.’ Here, it’s more… buddy-like.”

Yu Sheng raised an eyebrow. “And at the Borderland?”

“More… like a pal.”

Yu Sheng groaned. This day was off to a fantastic start.

This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation

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