Chapter 75: Another Mistbound City
It wasn’t long before two more figures appeared in Bai Li Qing’s office.
One was the burly Song Cheng. The other, an older man with graying hair who appeared to be in his fifties.
The latter wore thin-rimmed glasses, short and slightly portly—he looked every bit the unremarkable office middle-manager quietly approaching retirement.
Bai Li Qing glanced up at the two visitors and gave a slight nod. “You arrived quickly.”
“Did you meet with the one called ‘Yu Sheng’?” Song Cheng was the first to speak. “Judging by your look… did something happen?”
“We spoke extensively. And the interaction turned out far different from what I anticipated. ‘Yu Sheng’ may well be the most unique ‘Unnatural’ Entity I have ever encountered. But before we dive into details, I want to show you something.”
As she spoke, Bai Li Qing turned her gaze toward the graying man—head of the Classified Records Division. “Old Zheng, close the Door.”
Old Zheng nodded immediately and turned to seal the office Door.
The moment the Door shut, a wave of unseen pressure spread through the room like a breeze—yet every mote of dust in the air seemed to halt mid-flight, suspended in eerie stillness.
Seeing this, Song Cheng inwardly sighed, [So much for getting off work on time today], and resigned himself to the gravity of the moment.
With the space sealed, Bai Li Qing rose and approached the floor-to-ceiling window.
The window was enormous, veiled in a gentle mist that continuously shifted to reveal different vistas. None were scenes from the real Mistbound City—it showed mountain ranges, vast Forests, or more often, the tranquil surface of a still lake. At the lake’s distant edge, enshrouded in haze, stood a lone Little House, dreamlike and indistinct.
But as Bai Li Qing drew close, the ever-changing mist outside froze. The scenery within it began to recede.
Song Cheng and Old Zheng stared solemnly at the fog. A few seconds passed, then something new began to emerge within it.
Buildings. Rooftops arranged with geometric precision. A strange, unfamiliar city bathed in a crimson glow.
“What is this?” Song Cheng asked instinctively.
“Something ‘Yu Sheng’ showed me,” Bai Li Qing replied softly, her colorless eyes locked on the mist beyond. “He called it another ‘Mistbound City.’ He’s fixated on this place—and he’s seen it before.”
Old Zheng’s eyes widened in disbelief. He removed his glasses and polished them on his shirt, then peered again at the surreal cityscape. “Another Mistbound City?!”
“Yes. And from what I sensed, he truly believes this is what the Mistbound City is supposed to look like—what it should be.”
Both men fell into uneasy silence, staring at the ‘true’ landscape.
Dark structures barely distinguishable from the earth stretched across the terrain. Towering spires pierced the horizon, shrouded in mist—like tombstones standing vigil. Crimson light bled through the haze, bathing the sky in a twilight that felt… wrong.
And the sunlight—
Blood-red “sunlight” flowed like liquid through the city, forming vortices between buildings. It spilled from rooftops in shimmering cascades, dripping with rhythmic, eerie persistence.
Bai Li Qing’s voice carried gently to them, distant, like a dream: “He told me this was a peaceful coastal town. That the sunset here was beautiful. The red glow would pour across the sky like water, tracing along rooftops and drifting downward…”
“…A poetic image,” murmured Song Cheng.
“Yes, that’s what I thought at first,” Bai Li Qing whispered, shaking her head, “until I realized—it was literal.”
“This can’t be a real ‘location,'” said Old Zheng, now calm and focused. “There may be planets out there with strange environments, but this—this defies physical laws. The interplay of light and structure, that ‘sunlight’—they’re melting.”
“It’s like when a graphics card crashes in a game,” Song Cheng added, rubbing his chin. “I’ve seen something like this when my daughter plays.”
“This must be some kind of Otherworld,” Old Zheng mused cautiously. “It appears large, but without references or data, it’s hard to classify. Could be ‘Wilderness’ or ‘Kingdom,’ but definitely not a ‘Fortress.'”
“It could be an ‘Aberrant’ type,” Bai Li Qing murmured softly.
“An ‘Aberrant’ Otherworld?” Old Zheng’s brows furrowed in surprise. “Like the ‘Fairy Tale’ or ‘Heroic Epic’ kinds? But it looked like a physically existing space…”
“Even ‘Aberrant’ Otherworlds can manifest what appears to be ‘reality’ through cognition,” Bai Li Qing shook her head slowly. “What I saw was merely a vision drawn from Yu Sheng’s mind, so we can’t rule out the possibility that what we witnessed was nothing more than a ‘memory’ or a ‘story.’ The core issue remains—regardless of what this ‘Otherworld’ truly is, Yu Sheng believes it to be another version of the ‘Boundary City.’”
Silence fell between Song Cheng and Old Zheng. The atmosphere in the office thickened with tension.
In this world, Otherworlds were innumerable. Those that contacted or even overlapped with the Borderland were as plentiful as stars. But no matter how intertwined they seemed, no Otherworld had ever done what this one did—
It pointed to “another Boundary City.”
Standing before the floor-to-ceiling window, Song Cheng stared unblinkingly at the crimson-glowing urban sprawl outside, soaked in eerie red currents.
Truth be told, those obsidian silhouettes of towers bore little resemblance to the Boundary City beneath his feet—at least none that he could discern. He didn’t understand why that “Yu Sheng” perceived it as such. But there was one thing he did understand:
A shift in perspective changes the entire world one sees.
To the Alglade Star System Nobles, the night sky unfolded in exquisite, ordered constellations and designs. The Bamosians saw their world illuminated by both light and magnetic fields. The Gyproians perceived the outline of electric currents. And the ancient Forest Folk—during meditation—embraced time itself, at times glimpsing fleeting visions of the future.
Humans were among the narrowest-sighted races in existence. To those born with innate gifts, Humans were both blind and deaf. Of the infinite information in this vast world, less than one percent became usable “intelligence” for Human minds. Yet paradoxically, with the right tools or methods, a Human mind could process nearly any “knowledge.” Even more baffling was their absurdly high tolerance and adaptability to dangerous information far beyond their perception.
Thus, across all races, Humans were universally recognized as the ideal “Innate Investigator Vessels.”
“The world he sees,” Song Cheng spoke suddenly, “is not the world we see.”
“Indeed,” Bai Li Qing nodded. “But he survives in ours just fine—albeit a little awkwardly, he’s adapted surprisingly well.”
“He possesses both Human and… ‘non-Human’ perceptive systems? Or perhaps two distinct ‘cognitive frameworks’?” Old Zheng mused aloud, brows knitted. “You’ve spoken to him. In your view, is he an ‘Entity’… or a ‘Human’?”
“He seems more like a Human—at least, that’s what he currently believes,” Bai Li Qing replied, turning her gaze and tapping gently on the glass. As her voice fell, the “landscape” beyond the window shattered and collapsed, retracting upon itself before once again becoming a mist-laced serenity of mountains and rivers. “In my opinion, we should not disturb this ‘status quo’—not until we’re sure what Wutong Road No. 66 and ‘Yu Sheng’ truly are.”
“I understand,” Song Cheng inhaled deeply, nodding solemnly. “Then what’s next?”
“Next, the Second Mobilization Squad is to allocate some personnel and resources specifically for matters concerning Wutong Road No. 66 and ‘Yu Sheng.’ The first task: we handle his registration.”
“Registration?”
“The two ‘people’ at his side need legitimate identities,” Bai Li Qing said unhurriedly. “Moreover, he himself appears interested in registering as a… ‘Spirit Realm Detective.’”
Song Cheng blinked. “…Huh?”
“He says he intends to uphold the order of the Borderland and fight against Otherworlds and Entities.”
Song Cheng: “…Huh?”
“I know what that ‘huh’ means,” Bai Li Qing glanced at him. “But the Special Affairs Bureau has always handled the absurd. Go make arrangements—assign someone sharp and dependable to the task. I recall two good candidates mentioned in the last report.”
Song Cheng’s expression grew strained. “I just gave them a three-day leave…”
Bai Li Qing paused in thought. “Fair enough—this kind of situation does call for rest. You make the call. Just don’t let it drag out too long.”