Chapter 122: Irene Drills Her Way In
To be honest, reconnecting with Irene did ease Yu Sheng’s mind a great deal—and while this little doll had quite the mouth on her, she did bring along some truly useful intel.
In the real world, his body was indeed still “dreaming,” though this wasn’t a standard case of Dream Entry. Irene believed his consciousness was “lost.” In other words…
Yu Sheng lifted his head, surveying the Cozy Little House, then glanced out the window at the endless curtain of night outside.
This “Forest”… it was a closed and complete spiritual space existing somewhere out there. A trap of sorts that pulls Dream Entry practitioners inside, severing all connection to the outside world.
Come to think of it, Irene was kind of impressive—how had she managed to reach him even here?
Thoughts raced through Yu Sheng’s mind when Irene, after spouting a torrent of chaotic words, finally got to the point: “Yu Sheng, what the heck happened over there? How’d you get ‘lost’ just from taking a nap? Where even is your consciousness right now?”
“…I’m in a Black Forest. If I’m right, this should be the Black Forest from ‘Little Red Riding Hood.'”
Irene was baffled. “…What do you mean, ‘Little Red Riding Hood’s Black Forest’?”
“It’s complicated,” Yu Sheng began, trying to put the pieces into words. “Back at the Museum, remember when that Evil Wolf crawled out from the shadow of Little Red Riding Hood and bit me? Turns out that formed some kind of connection. Little Red Riding Hood once said that ‘Fairy Tale’ is an Otherworld, and her powers are part of a curse. I think the place I am now… is where she’s being imprisoned.”
Yu Sheng told Irene everything that had happened—being hunted by the invisible Evil Wolf, meeting a talking Squirrel—though he deliberately skipped the tempting visions he saw along the road.
“You’re saying… you’re with a Squirrel right now?” Irene was clearly stunned. The Doll Lady probably never imagined that Yu Sheng could turn a simple nap into this level of absurdity. “So what’s the situation outside your Little House? Is it safe? Can you get out on your own?”
“It’s quiet outside for now, but I can feel their eyes on me. The Wolf Pack is gathered in the Black Forest,” Yu Sheng said, glancing out the window. “Still, I think it’s manageable. This house seems secure enough, and worst case scenario, I can still ‘open Doors’ even in this ‘dream,’ though I haven’t figured out how it works yet.”
Irene gave a thoughtful “Oh,” and after a few moments, her voice sounded again in Yu Sheng’s mind: “Do you have any picture frames or canvases around you?”
Yu Sheng instinctively looked around. “Nope… why?”
“I want to try ‘drilling’ my way over to you,” Irene replied. “You’re not in your own dream, so I can’t directly jump there. I need a medium. Like a coordinate, similar to how you open Doors. If there aren’t any frames or canvases, then anything drawable will do—a pen and paper, anything.”
Yu Sheng took a lap around the Cozy Little House and eventually found a few chunks of blackened charcoal near the fireplace.
The Squirrel stood on the table, clutching a giant acorn, watching Yu Sheng circle the room with an utterly baffled look. Finally, it couldn’t help but ask, “What are you doing?”
Yu Sheng didn’t even look up. “A friend of mine wants to visit.”
The Squirrel looked dumbfounded. “…What?”
Yu Sheng didn’t elaborate, instead reporting back to Irene, “Found nothing but some pieces of charcoal…”
To his surprise, the Doll Lady responded instantly: “That works too. Draw a frame on the floor.”
Yu Sheng sighed. “Why is it that every time you ‘make do,’ it’s this sketchy?”
“Desperate times call for desperate measures!” Irene chirped cheerfully. “Rituals are all about process, especially in dreams. As long as the intent is there, the symbolism creates directionality—whether or not the intent is sincere doesn’t even matter.”
“…Seriously? ‘Intent doesn’t even matter’?!” Yu Sheng nearly choked on his own frustration, but still picked up a piece of charcoal and began drawing a frame in the center of the Cozy Little House, as instructed. “Okay, frame drawn. Now what?”
“Now, draw a ridiculously beautiful, elegant, mature young lady—basically, me.”
Yu Sheng said nothing and stood there silently.
Irene’s voice dropped an octave. “…Okay, not that beautiful. Just make it kinda look like me.”
Still no response.
The Doll Lady finally gave up. “…Fine. Just draw a humanoid figure and write my name under it, using the letters I taught you.”
Yu Sheng finally dipped his head, muttering while sketching the outline and True Name of Irene within the charcoal-drawn frame on the ground, “You know how terrible I am with handiwork—so don’t go making these inhumane demands right from the start…”
Squirrel, who had been curiously watching from the side, now stared wide-eyed as Yu Sheng continued drawing arcane symbols and glyphs on the floor. Its beady black eyes stretched wide with shock, and suddenly it squealed, “Hey hey, you—what in the name of the Forest Angels are you doing?! Is this… is this Subspace Sorcery?! I’m warning you, don’t mess around! The Black Forest already has enough things that’ll cost you your life!”
“I already told you—I’ve got a friend coming,” Yu Sheng replied without so much as lifting his head. “Relax, it’s not some Heretical Abomination summoning. It’s just that my friend’s sealed inside a Cursed Oil Painting, and I need to use a Special Summoning Method to bring her out.”
Squirrel almost choked on its breath. Its big fluffy tail slammed against the table as it scampered up and down in a panic, clearly too scared to intervene directly.
Meanwhile, Yu Sheng completed the final strokes of his makeshift ritual artwork.
Squirrel, mid-table bounce, suddenly froze.
Its glossy eyes fixed on the crude summoning illustration, and, to Yu Sheng’s mild surprise, a very human-like expression of relief spread across its furry face.
“Whew, scared me for a sec—I thought you were some dark Demon-binding sorcerer. Turns out you’re just into abstract art. Looks like garbage—what could you possibly Summon with this…”
Before it could finish, the charcoal lines on the floor shimmered and dissolved into a rippling glow.
Squirrel bit its own tongue as its final words caught in its throat.
From the radiant shimmer, an ancient and dignified Painting slowly began to ascend, the charcoal markings steaming and vanishing from the floor. The image within the air became whole.
It floated midair between Yu Sheng and Squirrel, and within the ornate frame stood Irene, hands on hips, beaming with confidence. “Yu Sheng! I’m here to help!”
Squirrel let out a tiny squeak and keeled over backwards, limbs in the air, tail twitching.
Yu Sheng quickly rushed forward and nudged it awake. “Hey hey! What’s wrong with you?!”
Squirrel stirred back to life, dazedly staring at the floating Painting. Within the frame, the Doll Lady was peeking out with curiosity.
Squirrel gave another shiver, tail curling up like a snail shell. “…Are Witches these days really this desperate? You call that goblin-scrawl a summoning sigil? And it actually worked?”
“This is the Squirrel you mentioned?” Irene tilted her head, inspecting the little creature. Then she turned to Yu Sheng. “It’s kind of cute! And look, it’s got a red cloth wrapped around it. By the way, what’s a ‘Wild Goblin’?”
“Ahem… just something local to the Black Forest… let’s not talk about that,” Yu Sheng coughed and quickly changed the subject. He raised a hand and pointed to the Doll Lady in the frame. “Anyway, this is my friend, her name’s Irene—and she’s also a friend of Little Red Riding Hood.”
“Hello!” Irene greeted Squirrel with perfect manners. Then she added brightly, “Actually, there’s also a Fox Girl with us—another of Little Red Riding Hood’s friends—but she couldn’t come in. She’s standing guard outside.”
Squirrel stared, stunned, then suddenly raised a paw and started frantically clawing at its own face. It scurried in manic circles across the tabletop. “What is happening, what is happening… This never happened before… The Black Forest has never seen anything like this. This is wrong… wrong in the best way…”
“…Uhh…” Irene leaned closer to Yu Sheng and whispered, “Is this Squirrel always like this? It seems a little… unstable.”
“Always. First time we met it was already like this—nervous as a cat in a thunderstorm. And it smokes,” Yu Sheng whispered back. “Then again, it talks. What kind of ‘normal’ Squirrel talks?”
Suddenly, Squirrel stopped in its tracks. Perhaps it had overheard them.
It looked up, dead serious, and pointed at itself. “I am Squirrel.”
Irene blinked and nodded slowly. “Uh, yeah… I can tell. You’re Squirrel.”
“Little Red Riding Hood has many friends?” Squirrel pressed on, gaze fixed firmly on the floating Doll in the frame. “More like you? Strange and powerful? Capable of entering the Black Forest?”
“Well… I’m not sure how many friends she has. We haven’t known each other that long, so I haven’t met the others yet,” Irene said, hesitating, then puffed up with pride. “But if we’re talking about strength—oh, we’re definitely impressive! I’m a Doll from Alice’s Little House! And our Fox Girl? She can launch her tail like a missile—and when she takes her true form, she takes up two parking spaces!”
But Squirrel didn’t seem to hear the tail end of that boast. It was already pacing again, now gleeful, muttering under its breath: “The important thing is—they made it into the Black Forest. They made it in… That means she doesn’t have to walk the path alone anymore… This has never happened before. Never. It’s outside the rules. An ‘accident.’ Where there’s an accident, there’s a chance. Maybe…”
Yu Sheng frowned as he listened, locking eyes with Irene.
They both looked concerned.