Doomsday Wonderland

Chapter 1308 - Chapter 1308: A Healthy Mrs. Manas Is the Capital of the Revolution



Chapter 1308: A Healthy Mrs. Manas Is the Capital of the Revolution

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Throughout the night, Lin Sanjiu tossed and turned, unable to sleep.

In a society without the internet, even if she wanted to search for information about Anida, she would have to wait until the library opened tomorrow. There was even a Mokugyo Encyclopedic Forum in the Twelve Worlds, making this modern society seem too primitive. She lay on the makeshift bed Wu Lun had prepared for her, surrounded by the scent of the young girl, which felt both unfamiliar and strangely intimate.

Wu Lun also couldn’t sleep. The two remained silent until around two or three in the morning when the beauty advisor suddenly asked, “How do you plan to find your friends?”

“You’re still not sleeping?”

“I’m afraid if I fall asleep, you’ll do something to me,” Wu Lun whispered. After a moment of thought, she added, “But, you seem to have a good heart… it’s just that you’re too scary. I remember reading novels where generals emerged from battlefields with a murderous aura; at that time, I didn’t understand.”

“You’ll have that too someday.”

“It’s not money! I don’t want it at all.”

When doomsday comes, it will be beyond her control. But speaking of which… when is doomsday? When Lin Sanjiu carefully examined this point, she suddenly realized a problem: everyone only said that there was a kind of visa that could send posthumans back to a specific world six months before the arrival of doomsday—but no one mentioned how long before? If Anida was indeed a posthuman and arrived in this world decades in advance, wouldn’t that also be six months “before” doomsday?

Thinking about it this way, she was not sure exactly when Ren Nan appeared in Hyperthermal Hell; the two of them happened to dated within six months.

Her heart suddenly tightened. Lin Sanjiu turned over and sat up, feeling a little out of breath from her own thoughts—or rather, Ji Shanqing’s thoughts—because she had subconsciously mimicked the grand prize when she was thinking just now.

“What’s wrong with you?” Wu Lun asked from the bed.

It’s such an important issue that even if she hadn’t thought about it before, it’s impossible that no one among so many posthumans and consular officers in the Twelve Worlds would have discovered it. But no one has ever mentioned that posthumans may arrive at the doomsday world decades in advance. If that were the case, how valuable would a visa for early arrival be? Isn’t that equivalent to a means of getting rid of the doomsday world?

Was it possible that no one brought up this issue because they didn’t think it was a problem?

In other words, other posthumans might have arrived shortly before the six-month mark. For example, if the world’s doomsday occurs on August 1st, posthumans would have been teleported here between late January and early February. This speculation seemed the most natural and consistent with her understanding and impressions.

But what about Anida? Wasn’t he supposed to have arrived at the same time as her?

Anida might not be, but she was.

The Great Deluge broke the rules of the doomsday world, so theoretically, it should not affect non-doomsday worlds. After all, doomsday is the first collapse of the human world, and The Great Deluge is a further collapse on that basis… so it probably also operates like the visa, extending its reach only to six months before doomsday—whether anything before that still counts as the doomsday world remains a question mark. So, the Great Deluge disrupted the possibility of a fixed landing time because of its low probability; for now, it could be ignored.

It was currently June 3rd, 2019, in this world. Since she was here now, it could be inferred that the world’s doomsday would occur around December 3rd. All posthumans teleported to this world should have appeared here at this point.

‘Then where are they?’

“Have there been any news in the past week or two about…” After turning off the mimicry, she again felt the inconvenience of not having the internet and could only ask Wu Lun, “Strange individuals? Like, skilled lunatics or people with special abilities?”

Wu Lun thought for a moment. “I think so, but I don’t remember exactly when I saw it.” She sighed. “There’s news about these strange people occasionally; it’s normal. Did you think these strange people were your friends just because you read the newspaper?”

Right, she should just treat her as someone mentally unstable.

“I have to go to work tomorrow.” Wu Lun rolled over with the blanket and sighed softly, “I’m going to die.”

“Don’t go,” Lin Sanjiu said without hesitation. “It’s almost doomsday. Why go to work? Do you have savings? Withdraw all of them tomorrow, and buy everything you need: food, weapons, medicine, daily necessities… I can give you some.”

Wu Lun didn’t even have the energy to argue with her, her words going in one ear and out the other.

“I also need someone to take me to the library,” Lin Sanjiu thought for a moment, saying, “I also need to go to newspapers, TV stations, and magazines to see if they can advertise… all of this requires a local guide.”

“Why advertise? Advertising costs money. Do you have any? I heard that a short TV ad costs tens of thousands. Don’t look at me. I only make 4,500 a month.”

Lin Sanjiu remained silent for a long time. There seemed to be no urgency to contact other posthumans; after all, they would all appear in six months. She could find the consular officer then, right?

Most compromises in life seemed to be due to lack of money.

“Not only advertising,” Wu Lun continued. Once she started speaking, she had to finish, “You also need money for food, clothing, shelter, and transportation, right? You can’t stay at my place forever, can you? You ate up a week’s worth of my dinner tonight, and I can’t afford to support you. Don’t you have family? Go home, okay?”

The face of the grand prize flashed through her mind, followed by Exodus, and Bohemia running down the corridor from Exodus.

Lin Sanjiu buried her face in the pillow without saying a word.

“I also want to go home,” she muttered half a minute later.

Wu Lun seemed to have misunderstood a bit, sighing. “Everyone has their own difficulties. Forget it, anyway; I can’t hold on to work tomorrow; I’ll ask the team leader for a leave.”

She got up to send a text message, and the screen lit up, illuminating the white face in the dark night. “It’s a good thing she knew I wasn’t feeling well tonight, mainly because…” Wu Lun said, glancing at Lin Sanjiu. “Huh? You washed your face clean, and you look pretty good? When I saw you at the counter, why do I remember you with a big mouth of blood?”

Lin Sanjiu was too lazy to talk to her.

It wasn’t until four in the morning, listening to Wu Lun’s long and steady breaths, that she quietly lifted the blanket and got up. Sleeping felt like a waste of time when she had something on her mind.

The city at four in the morning was a dark blue, like a dream made while reality slept. Those who lived nightlife had returned home, and those who woke up early had not yet awakened. It was when the city was sleeping most deeply, with only street lights quietly illuminating the roads, their orange glow melting into the darkness of the night.

Lin Sanjiu walked along the road, taking in every aspect of modern society: the breakfast shop where steam was already rising from the kitchen even though it wasn’t open yet, the auto parts repair shop with its tightly closed iron gates, the trash bags piled under the trees by the roadside, and the occasional passing car. With her quick pace, she covered a large area without stepping into pocket dimensions; every household slept peacefully, undisturbed.

The last shred of doubt in her heart was finally dispelled. She had wondered if this world had already experienced some form of doomsday, but it maintained a peaceful facade—just like the Mushroom Society. Now, it seemed that this was indeed a normal world.

The sound of car tires rolling over the ground approached from behind and slowed down beside her. Lin Sanjiu turned her head and saw a taxi with its headlights on, the driver peering out as if to see if she wanted a ride. She was about to wave her hand to refuse when the driver suddenly turned his head and stepped on the gas, speeding away from her as if fleeing for his life.

Didn’t she wash off her makeup? Perhaps this driver, like Wu Lun, was very sensitive to power and danger?

1

Lin Sanjiu stood alone on the deserted street at dawn, unsure where to go. After some thought, she decided to circle back and return to Wu Lun’s house from a different direction. The girl was probably tired from fear, and at this moment, she was sleeping soundly, unaware that she had missed a great opportunity to get rid of Lin Sanjiu.

Wu Lun’s place was obviously not in an affluent area. Everything was neatly packaged and effortless in the bustling and high-end city center; the further you went to the outskirts, the more signs of people trying to make a living were visible, blatantly surfacing. A small recycling station was adjacent to a barbershop, and dirty black puddles seeped outside the restaurant entrance.

As Lin Sanjiu walked, she suddenly turned and went back.

When she arrived at the recycling station’s entrance, she saw that the gate was tightly locked. She simply sneaked into the alley—surrounded by silence. There were no surveillance cameras in such alleys, making it convenient for her to climb onto the wall. Below was a yard emitting a foul odor; as she expected, it was filled with crushed cans, plastic bottles, and old newspapers and magazines.

Lin Sanjiu landed silently. She didn’t have a specific goal, but she desperately needed to know the news of this world. After some thought, she simply collected all the old newspapers and turned them into cards to take away and read slowly.

“Why do you need to read so many?” Mrs. Manas, who hadn’t spoken for a long time, asked.

“I just need to glance at the dates and headlines. I don’t need to read all the content.”

Mrs. Manas fell silent. After a while, she suddenly spoke again. “You should practice Higher Consciousness more. I… am a little worried.”

“What are you worried about? By the way, why haven’t I heard you speak much these past few days?” Although she occasionally said something, she immediately fell silent again.

“I can’t really say.” Mrs. Manas seemed uncertain. “I’m just… a bit tired, like you’re drowsy… I rested for a day, but when I came back, I was still tired. Maybe if you start practicing, I’ll feel better.”

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