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“I… I heard a rumor.”
As Lin Sanjiu sat atop the towering industrial shelves, gradually condensing her Higher Consciousness, her thoughts suddenly stirred, and she heard a low voice coming from the dimness below, a female voice.
After the advertisements took effect, the dozen or so people they had captured were gradually released. Now, only three people remained sitting below the shelves. Among the dozen people, there was only one woman, surnamed Zheng, middle-aged, with short curly hair. When giving orders to subordinates, Zheng had the most difficulty. She gave the same unreasonable orders as others, yet only her subordinates showed her concern.
“Ms. Zheng, have you been feeling a bit emotional these days? Do you need a break for a couple of days?”
With surprise, Lin Sanjiu listened carefully to the daily conversations of the others and found that not one person was suspected of being excessively emotional, even though, in fact, it was impossible for these suddenly kidnapped hostages not to be emotional.
Now, she didn’t need to speak more resolutely than her peers. “I’ve heard before that in our society… there are people like them hidden. Not many, but a few will come out occasionally.”
“Where did you hear that? And what else?” The first to change the advertisement, Zhang, hurriedly asked in a low voice.
After spending some time together, if not Stockholm syndrome, a subtle mutual understanding had developed between the hostages and the kidnappers. Under the premise of cooperation, the hostages were untied and allowed to move, talk, and use the restroom within a limited area, while the kidnappers sat high on the shelves like shepherds watching their flock.
“A while back, didn’t we often receive… those poorly written messages from dangerous individuals? The ones with long strings of numbers that didn’t look like phone numbers.” Zheng whispered, “One of them said that the existence of these people had been covered up because… because… cough, I can’t put it into words. Anyway, the message said they were superpowered individuals dissatisfied with society, and there was something about waiting for them to solve social injustices. You know, it’s the kind of nonsense only losers from the lower levels would send—”
“Don’t, don’t.”
A laugh suddenly came from the shelf opposite Lin Sanjiu. A person climbed up from the shelf, leaned out, and joined the conversation below, “Rest assured, there’s not a single fact in that message. What? You guys think we’re asleep if we don’t talk?”
“No… that’s not it.”
“We’ve said it many times already.” The young man crossed his legs and spoke casually, “We just come and go from wherever. I’ve been here for two months and seen everything interesting or uninteresting; it’s boring. I just want to leave. You created this world yourselves. Why should we care about your lives?”
The people below fell silent. Lin Sanjiu glanced at him and gave him a faint smile.
As the first posthuman to respond to the advertisement, Wan Qingge was truly worthy of his greatest trait: speed. It took him less than two days to contact and meet with the hostages and join the job of guarding them. As he put it, “Even if I could leave here a second earlier, I would be willing to exchange my visa for it.”
Two months ago, when Wan Qingge had just been teleported, he happened to land in a high school.
When he realized the landing place was a school in the pre-apocalyptic world, he was quite pleased. “The school has a cafeteria, a clinic, and a place to sleep. Teachers and students come and go on time. When they’re not here, the entire school is my territory. Tell me, is there a better stronghold for preparing for the doomsday six months later?”
So Wan Qingge settled down in this high school. The sports equipment warehouse became his bedroom, and he would sneakily scoop a large plate of food from the cafeteria; after two days, he even got a badge and pretended to be a school staff member to come and go freely. Life was quite comfortable.
“Two weeks later, I really couldn’t stand it.”
When they first met, they were all gathered in He Huan’s apartment. Wan Qingge leaned back with his legs crossed, swaying the chair back and forth.
“I once saw a boy, his bangs a bit longer, being grabbed by the collar and shaken, called a little hooligan. I also saw a girl standing in the Monday assembly admitting to the entire school that she had fallen in love early, and that’s not all. She had to read aloud the little notes passed between the two of them. Two people are in love, and the girl has to come out and read them, one by one. The students and teachers below laughed along. I’m afraid if I stayed longer, I wouldn’t be able to hold this temper.”
“It’s normal here.” He Huan said, remaining calm. “You don’t understand adapting to local customs; it’s easy to be noticed when you go out.”
“I don’t understand, I don’t adapt, I can’t stand it,” Wan Qingge said. “I just want to leave quickly. When I have children in Twelve Worlds, if anyone dares to treat them like this, I’ll slap that person so hard their skin will peel off.”
He looked young, so he was probably in his early twenties at most when he evolved, not yet married or had children. However, he had a special tenderness for children. For the adults in this world, Wan Qingge was as indifferent as He Huan. Whether facing children or adults, He Huan’s attitude could be summed up in four words, “None of my business.”
Lin Sanjiu thought she might have had the same attitude originally, but after she met Wu Lun, her heart softened slightly.
“Do you want to settle down in Twelve Worlds?”
Because she remembered that conversation, she asked him softly when the three hostages below were quiet again.
Wan Qingge made a sound of agreement, saying, “If I meet someone else.”
“Aren’t you afraid that, after having a family, you’ll lose them again?”
“…To say I’m not afraid would be a lie.”
After a while, he said in a low voice, “But… I’ve been in the Twelve Worlds for the past few worlds. I usually work for the consular officer association, so I know a lot more about the internal situation of the visa system than the average person. You know the history of Twelve Worlds for a long time, right?”
Lin Sanjiu nodded, aware of his insight.
“Anyone who goes to Twelve Worlds must find a way to stay there. Even if they can’t get a Twelve Worlds visa, they try to get a similar one. Very few people teleport randomly—after mixing in for eight or nine years, this is the first time I’ve been teleported by accident.”
He suddenly smiled as if unable to contain his excitement. “In the process of decades, even centuries, countless posthumans have repeated this one action, getting a visa. You see, the consular officers are safe and have fewer casualties, more new members are added, and as their abilities evolve, they issue more visas. Over time, natural teleportation becomes less and less frequent, right?”
Lin Sanjiu suddenly realized what he was trying to say, feeling shocked. “But… aren’t consular officer visas determined by the natural teleportation destination?”
“Yes. As the population transported naturally between the Twelve Worlds gradually decreases, you would think the number of consular officer visas would also decrease, right?” Wan Qingge couldn’t help but laugh again. “Let me tell you something. It’s insider news of Twelve Worlds, and the consular officer association has been trying to conceal this information for a long time.”