Chapter 75

Chapter 75: Another Boundary City

Not long after, two more people arrived in Bai Li Qing’s office.

One was the burly Song Cheng. The other had graying hair and looked to be in his fifties. He wore narrow-framed glasses, stood a little short, and carried a soft paunch—ordinary enough to pass for a small-time office boss who’d already started coasting toward retirement.

Bai Li Qing looked up and gave them a small nod. “You’re here fast.”

“You met the man calling himself ‘Yu Sheng’?” Song Cheng spoke first. “From the look on your face… you found something.”

“I talked with him for a long time, and things turned out nothing like I predicted. ‘Yu Sheng’ may be the most unusual ‘unnatural’ individual I’ve ever dealt with.” Bai Li Qing’s gaze shifted to the gray-haired man. “But before we get into details, I want you to see something. Luo Zheng, close the door.”

Luo Zheng nodded and turned to shut it.

The moment the door clicked into place, an invisible pressure swept through the room like a passing breeze. Wherever it went, even the dust motes floating in the air seemed to freeze.

Song Cheng’s heart sank. He muttered, “We’re screwed,” and silently accepted that he wouldn’t be getting off work on time today.

With the office “sealed,” Bai Li Qing rose and walked to the floor-to-ceiling window.

It was enormous, always veiled in a faint mist. Within that fog, scenery constantly shifted—clearly not the kind of view you’d find in boundary city. Sometimes it was rolling mountains, sometimes an endless forest. Most of the time it was a calm lake with a surface so still it looked like nothing had ever rippled there. Far beyond the water, a small house sat quietly in the haze, dreamlike and distant.

As Bai Li Qing approached, the drifting mist outside the glass stilled, and the changing scenery faded away.

Song Cheng and Luo Zheng watched with grim expressions. After a few seconds of blank fog, new shapes began to surface within it.

Buildings. Rooflines rising and falling. A strange city, steeped in spreading red twilight.

“What is that?” Song Cheng blurted.

“Yu Sheng showed me this,” Bai Li Qing said softly. Her colorless eyes stayed on the pale fog as images from memory rose and reformed within it. “He says it’s another ‘boundary city.’ He’s fixated on it—and he’s seen it before.”

Shock flashed across Luo Zheng’s face. He pulled off his glasses, wiped them on his shirt out of habit, then stared hard at the shifting light. “Another ‘boundary city’?!”

“Yes. Another one.” Bai Li Qing’s voice was calm. “And I could faintly sense his emotions. He seems to believe… this is what boundary city is supposed to look like when it’s ‘normal.’”

Song Cheng and Luo Zheng fell silent, staring uneasily at the so-called “normal” view beyond the glass.

Black structures stood on the earth like cut-out shadows, their forms reduced to sharp edges. In the distance, tall, bizarre spires rose into the red sky, sketching a magnificent outline. Fog drifted through everything; rooftops and towers lined up like rows of tombstones in the mist.

And then there was the sunlight.

Blood-colored light flowed through the city like water, pooling and swirling between the buildings. Mixed with the dusk glow, it poured from rooftops, slid along eaves, and dripped without end—drip, drip… patter, patter…

Bai Li Qing’s voice reached them as if from far away. “He said it’s a quiet little seaside town with beautiful sunsets. The red glow splashes across the sky like water, then runs along the rooftops…”

“That’s… a very poetic description,” Song Cheng said quietly.

“Yes.” Bai Li Qing gave a slight shake of her head. “That’s what I thought when I first heard it too. Until I realized he meant it literally.”

“This can’t be any place that exists in reality,” Luo Zheng said, his expression grave. The initial unease of witnessing something abnormal had settled into cold focus. “The universe may have plenty of planets with bizarre scenery, but this doesn’t feel natural. The light around those buildings—and that ‘sunlight’—the way it behaves violates physics. It’s like it’s melting.”

“If I had to compare it…” Song Cheng rubbed his chin. “It’s like when you’re gaming, your GPU driver crashes, and the rendering goes wrong. I’ve seen it happen when my daughter plays.”

“This should be an otherworld,” Luo Zheng said carefully. “And it’s large-scale. But without data or a reference point, there’s no way to classify it as ‘wilderness’ or ‘kingdom.’ Either way, it’s definitely not a ‘fortress.’”

“It could also be an ‘anomaly,’” Bai Li Qing said flatly.

“An anomaly-type otherworld?” Luo Zheng frowned. “Like ‘fairy tale’ or ‘heroic epic’? But this looks like an actual physical space…”

“Anomaly-type otherworlds can produce their own ‘physical reality’ within cognition,” Bai Li Qing said, shaking her head. “What you’re seeing is only what Yu Sheng drew in his mind. We can’t rule out that this is essentially a ‘memory’ or a ‘story.’ The key point is that no matter what this otherworld truly is, Yu Sheng believes it’s another boundary city.”

Song Cheng and Luo Zheng fell quiet again, and the air in the office grew even heavier.

There were countless otherworlds in the world—countless links to the borderland, countless overlaps. But no matter what, an otherworld was still an otherworld. Its overlap with reality was always limited.

Since records began, no otherworld had ever done something like this—

Point to “another borderland.”

Song Cheng stood before the window, staring at the city washed in flowing red light. To be fair, those black silhouettes didn’t resemble the boundary city beneath his feet at all. At least, he couldn’t see it. He didn’t understand why “Yu Sheng” thought this was another boundary city, but he understood one thing:

Different viewpoints meant different worlds.

In Alglade eyes, the starry sky was filled with gorgeous, orderly lines and patterns. In Bamosian eyes, the world was lit by both “light” and “magnetic fields.” Ji Pu Luo people could see the outlines of electric fields. And the ancient forest folk—through meditation—could embrace time itself, even briefly predict the future.

Humans were one of the narrowest-sighted races in the world. To gifted peoples, humans were deaf and blind. In this vast reality, less than one percent of all information even registered as “useful” to a human mind.

And yet, with the right tools and methods, humans could process almost any knowledge. When it came to dangerous truths beyond their senses, humans could endure and adapt to an absurd degree.

That was why every race recognized humans as “born investigators.”

“The world in his eyes isn’t the same as the world in ours,” Song Cheng said suddenly.

“Yes,” Bai Li Qing said, not denying it. “But he can also live in our world. Aside from being a little awkward, he’s adapted very well.”

“A double perspective—human and… ‘non-human’?” Luo Zheng frowned. “Or two cognitive systems? You’ve met him. Do you think he’s an entity, or a human?”

“Closer to human,” Bai Li Qing said. “At least, that’s what he believes right now.”

She turned her head and lightly tapped the window glass.

At once, the scene outside collapsed and shrank, returning to the earlier calm state of mist and shifting mountain-and-water silhouettes.

“In my opinion, we shouldn’t disrupt this status quo,” Bai Li Qing continued. “Not until we confirm what Wu Tong Road 66 and ‘Yu Sheng’ really are.”

“I understand,” Song Cheng said, taking a quiet breath. He nodded solemnly. “Then next…”

“Next, Second Unit will assign manpower and attention specifically to matters related to Wu Tong Road 66 and ‘Yu Sheng.’ First priority is helping him with registration.”

“Registration?”

“The two ‘people’ with him need legal identities,” Bai Li Qing said evenly. “And he seems interested in registering as a Spirit Realm Detective.”

Song Cheng stared at her. “…Huh?”

“He said he wants to maintain the borderland’s order and fight otherworlds and entities.”

Song Cheng blinked. “…Huh?”

“I know exactly what you’re ‘huh’-ing about,” Bai Li Qing said, lifting her eyelids to glance at him. “The Special Operations Bureau deals with absurd situations every day. Go arrange it—pick someone sharp and reliable. Those two mentioned in the last report seemed good.”

Song Cheng’s expression twisted. “I just gave them three days off…”

Bai Li Qing thought it over. “Fair. In this situation, they do need rest. Arrange it as you see fit—just don’t drag it out.”