Chapter 150

Chapter 150: A Special Borderland

Honestly, after listening to Xu Jiali explain what was going on, Yu Sheng still felt guilty. He even did a serious self-audit of how often he’d been calling Bai Li Qing lately, and came to a simple conclusion: next time, he should spare a few calls for Song Cheng and lighten the Madam Director’s late-night workload.

The point was, if nobody got to sleep, it should at least be evenly distributed. He wasn’t about to stop opening doors.

Once he’d finished that little reflection, his curiosity only grew—especially about the unbelievable “structure” of the Special Operations Bureau’s headquarters.

This was the first time he’d been able to observe what the Borderland was really like up close. And when Xu Jiali led him down a corridor and pointed at an office at the very end—casually mentioning that after ten every night, it would drift into some kind of anomalous space—Yu Sheng’s fascination turned into something like awe.

“We’ve got a lot of special rooms and ‘sections’ here,” Xu Jiali said patiently as he guided them forward. “The structure of the entire Bureau building isn’t fixed. Some areas shift to other places on a schedule. Some even move into otherkind territory. We use those regular movements to pass supplies to colleagues at other outposts, or rotate shifts.”

He continued, matter-of-fact, like he was describing an elevator that sometimes broke down. “I don’t know if anyone’s told you this before, but even though the Borderland is called this world’s ‘hub,’ its spatial structure isn’t actually connected to the outside world in a direct way.”

“Not directly connected?” Yu Sheng asked. “What do you mean?”

“It means you can’t leave using normal transportation,” Xu Jiali said with a laugh. “Not by air, not underground. You can’t get out.”

If you tried to leave the city, you’d find only endless wilderness beyond it. Go farther and you’d reach an “unstable zone.” Push past that, beyond the boundary stele, and you’d hit the border—where space folded in on itself. Keep going and you’d end up back at the city’s edge.

That was what people meant when they said the Borderland’s time and space curled inward.

Yu Sheng listened, eyes widening, his heartbeat kicking up.

This was the first time he’d heard anything about the Borderland’s edge. The first time he’d been able to picture, clearly, how this enormous, eerie place was shaped.

The Borderland didn’t connect to normal space at the end. It looped.

That thought made his mind jump to the valley—those repeating “mountain barriers” at the far end, and the “teleportation” that happened after crossing them. Startled, he blurted, “Why does this sound like an… otherworld?”

“It does sound like one,” Xu Jiali said. He stopped walking and smiled, but his tone turned unexpectedly serious. “But the Borderland has a depth of zero. It doesn’t generate entities. And it follows the mathematical rules of the outside world. So aside from some local areas where supernatural phenomena pop up now and then, this place is still classified as a ‘normal zone.’”

He held up a hand, as if introducing a lecture topic. “That’s why scholars love arguing about it. Most people think it’s just a special spatial structure. The more radical ones believe the entire Borderland is a depth-zero otherworld—one whose rules happen to be ‘everything normal,’ and that it generates an entity called ‘human society’ according to the order of the normal universe.”

The nearly two-meter-tall brute delivered those words in a deliberately sinister voice, then paused just long enough to make it worse. “Of course, that extreme theory can’t be proven or disproven. So there’s a more middle-ground theory: the Borderland itself isn’t an otherworld, but it’s wrapped in a bubble-shaped otherworld. A zero-thickness membrane that ‘cuts’ a piece of normal space out of the universe, forming the Borderland we have now.”

Irene thought about it for a second, then blurted, “That also sounds like it can’t be proven or disproven.”

“Right,” Xu Jiali said with a shrug. “That’s why not many people buy it either. Speculation’s free. The Borderland has countless secrets, and everyone uses this place to pad their papers. You know how many apprentices and research trainees come to Boundary City every year for temporary placements?”

Yu Sheng had the sudden, vivid suspicion that at least half of them were here because finals were coming and they needed field-study points.

Something about the whole conversation felt… slightly off. But Yu Sheng forced himself back on track. “Wait. If the Borderland isn’t continuous with outside space, then how do people get in from the outside?”

“And how do you get out from the inside?”

“That’s the ‘channels’ I mentioned,” Xu Jiali said. “Like the special floors and offices in this building. Normal transportation can’t leave, but the Borderland has plenty of natural passages that connect to different places. Those passages are basically controlled by the Councilor Council, and they’re the only way in and out—”

He stopped abruptly and looked at Yu Sheng with a strange expression.

Yu Sheng blinked. “What?”

“It isn’t the only way anymore,” Xu Jiali said darkly.

Yu Sheng froze for half a beat, then understood.

His doors. Doors that led to all kinds of strange places.

Because of him, the Borderland now had a brand-new exit—one that didn’t rely on those “natural passages” at all.

Yu Sheng sank into thought, and Xu Jiali’s voice softened beside him. “Anyway… if you want to study those doors more in the future, or if you ever want to go far away, you can always come to us. The Bureau’s been managing this place for years. Some of our experience will be useful.”

Yu Sheng nodded slowly. Help delivered right to his doorstep always came with strings—he wasn’t naive about that. Still, whatever deeper meaning might be behind it, he could at least offer sincere thanks.

They stopped in front of a door.

“We’re here,” Xu Jiali said, lifting a hand toward the room ahead.

Yu Sheng looked up. They were at the end of the corridor, in front of the last laboratory. Even without knowing the layout, he could tell this one was different: the unusually heavy door, the extra distance from the other rooms, the multiple layers of monitoring equipment at the entrance, and the cluster of warning signs that practically screamed high security.

Above the door, a lit sign displayed:

No. 2 High-Risk Special Sample Analysis and Containment Handling Room.

Xu Jiali stepped forward and operated the access control panel. After verifying his high-tier identity card as a Senior Deep Diver, and confirming his temporary permissions as “special guide,” he spoke a few words into the intercom. The thick isolation door hummed, then slid aside with slow mechanical weight.

Two staff in full white protective suits and masks appeared inside, standing behind a glowing red isolation line to “welcome” Yu Sheng’s group.

Yu Sheng stared, momentarily stunned. He turned to Xu Jiali. “Uh… I’m delivering a scrap of paper and an iron lump. Isn’t this a little… much?”

“This is what the director arranged,” Xu Jiali said with a bright grin. “Don’t overthink it. It’s mainly because this is the only lab we can activate immediately right now. Each lab has its own security level and matching procedures, and they follow the process strictly. Since it was assigned here, even if you brought in a button, they’d still wear protective suits and do the handoff in the transfer zone. That’s how the Bureau works. You’ll get used to it.”

Yu Sheng could understand the logic. It just became extremely awkward when he actually had to take the items out.

He dug into his pocket and pulled out the tattered scrap of paper. Following the staff’s instructions, he placed it on the transfer tray. “This is a sample recovered from the Black Forest,” he said. “A leftover item from the entity ‘Hunter.’”

The staff collected the paper with solemn care.

Then Yu Sheng rummaged through another pocket and pulled out a white plastic grocery bag. He opened it and took out a bundle wrapped in old newspaper. When he unfolded the paper, it revealed the “iron lump” he’d picked up in that strange room on the second floor of his house.

The crackling rustle of cheap plastic and old newsprint sounded painfully loud in the silent, serious lab entrance. Yu Sheng fumbled with it, cold sweat pricking at his back. He glanced down at Irene by his feet. “Should I have put this in a briefcase before I came? Like one of those movie ones. Combination lock. Fancy and expensive-looking…”

Irene covered her face with one hand. “I don’t know. I just feel like you might as well have shoved it straight into your pocket.”

“I didn’t want it snagging my clothes,” Yu Sheng muttered. “It’s all sharp edges. I just bought this outfit.”

He set the iron lump on another tray, then forced himself to explain, as calmly as he could, to the figures in protective suits. “This is another sample. Recovery location was my home.”

He paused, then corrected himself. “Uh—no. Wu Tong Road 66. Otherworld.”

Two more staff emerged from a small inner door, wearing even heavier protective suits. The gear was so thick they looked like they were wrapped in Titan armor. One carried a silver-white alloy container engraved with symbols. With absolute seriousness, they placed the iron lump—something no one understood—into the container.

From beneath a filter mask came a muffled but polite voice. “Could you also hand over your carrying container?”

Yu Sheng stood there for a long moment before it clicked that they meant the old plastic bag and the newspaper in his hands.

Still baffled, he handed them over. He watched the Titan-armored figures collect the bag and newspaper with the same solemn care, then disappear back into the lab.

Only after a few seconds did he turn to Xu Jiali. “Is… is that part of your standard procedure too?”

Xu Jiali stiffened. “…Yes.”

“The director arranged it,” he added, like that explained everything.