On the third day after the holiday ended, the atmosphere in Team One’s dedicated tactical conference room was somewhat grave.
A massive holographic projection hovered above the center of the conference table, displaying an overhead view of an abandoned factory and several blurry screenshots from nighttime surveillance footage. An Mu clasped his hands together and braced them on the tabletop, his sharp gaze sweeping over every team member present.
“Mission briefing.” His voice was low and forceful, echoing through the quiet room. “Target location: No. 7 abandoned ‘Dreamland’ Toy Factory, Third Industrial District, west side of the city. The factory went bankrupt fifteen years ago due to poor management and has been abandoned ever since. Over the past half month, headquarters has received three consecutive alerts regarding abnormal energy fluctuations from the surrounding area, all fluctuating around D-rank. At the same time, according to reports, three vagrants who habitually moved around that area have gone missing.”
The holographic projection switched images, showing a video that shook violently. It seemed to have been filmed on a phone by some urban exploration enthusiast. In the footage, from the depths of the pitch-black factory building came the faint, intermittent tinkling of a music box, mixed with the giggling laughter of a little girl.
“Preliminary assessment: this is a shallow manifestation malignant Nightmare incident formed by either an earthbound spirit or a single lingering resentment. Threat level: C-rank. Considering that its area of influence is stable and shows no signs of further expansion, headquarters recommends that one A-rank investigator lead the team, assisted by two C-rank investigators. However…” An Mu’s tone shifted, and his gaze finally landed on Bai Yu. “Bai Yu submitted a mission application. And the partner he requested is… Lu Yueqi.”
The moment those words fell, it was as if all the air in the conference room had been sucked out.
“I object!” Mo Fei practically sprang up from his chair. His burly frame brought with it an immense sense of pressure, and his large hand slammed heavily onto the table with a muffled bang. “Are you kidding me? A C-rank mission? For a rookie who hasn’t even been issued her uniform yet, a mission of this level is fatal! Old Bai, do you have any idea what you’re doing? Are you trying to take her there to die?”
Although Lan Ce was not as agitated as Mo Fei, he still pushed up the black-rimmed glasses on the bridge of his nose. Behind the lenses, his gaze was as calm as a scalpel. “From a data analysis perspective, this action is indeed extremely unreasonable. Lu Yueqi’s mental state is not yet stable, and her degree of control over her Nightmare power is approaching zero. Bringing an uncontrollable ‘energy source’ like her into a contamination field where a malignant Nightmare already exists carries an extremely high probability of triggering ‘energy resonance,’ which would cause the Nightmare’s intensity to rise, or even lead to malignant mutation. That would cause the risk coefficient to jump directly from C-rank to B+, or even higher. Bai Yu, I believe we need a complete risk assessment report and your operational plan.”
Faced with the almost unanimous questioning and opposition from his teammates, Bai Yu’s expression did not change in the slightest. He merely sat there quietly, no emotion visible on his pale face.
Bai Yu slowly spoke. His voice was not loud, but it reached everyone’s ears clearly. “Plants raised in a greenhouse cannot grow to withstand storms. At least, not in a short period of time… We don’t have that much time to nurture her slowly, until she has the ability to fight those things…”
He calmly met An Mu’s gaze. “Captain, all of you know what Lu Yueqi is facing. That isn’t a problem that can be solved by staying at headquarters with instruments and data. ‘Its’ gaze has already locked onto her. No matter where she hides, the erosion is happening every minute and every second. Her only way to survive is to learn to fight back. And the ability to fight back can never appear out of thin air in an absolutely safe environment.”
“This mission has a sealed location, a singular Nightmare nature, and no complicated rules. It’s the most suitable ‘practical training ground’ we can find for her at this stage. I will be responsible for her safety throughout the entire operation. The moment the situation exceeds control, I will immediately take her and withdraw.” Bai Yu’s tone was firm. “She has to learn to face fear directly, to use fear, rather than be swallowed by it. This is her first lesson as an ‘investigator,’ and it is also a required course for her as a ‘survivor.’”
The conference room fell silent once more. Mo Fei clenched his fists tightly, his heavy breathing revealing the struggle within him. Lan Ce lowered his head and began calculating something rapidly on his tactical tablet, seeming to reassess the feasibility of Bai Yu’s plan.
In the end, An Mu looked deeply at Bai Yu. In that gaze there was worry, helplessness, but most of all, trust.
“I approve your application,” he said, enunciating each word. “But Bai Yu, I am setting limits for you. First, Lu Yueqi’s safety is the highest priority. Your mission is not to eliminate the Nightmare, but to ensure that she returns alive. Second, maintain communication throughout the entire operation. Lan Ce will provide you with twenty-four-hour backend data support. Third, once Lu Yueqi’s mental contamination index exceeds seventy percent of the threshold, or the Nightmare’s level jumps, you must retreat immediately and unconditionally. That is an order.”
“Understood.” Bai Yu nodded, with no extra words.
“Tch…” Mo Fei sat back down unwillingly and let out a muffled snort through his nose, turning his head away and refusing to look at Bai Yu again. This was his way of expressing his concern.
And so, this brief yet confrontational meeting came to an end.
……
At dusk, a specially modified black off-road vehicle drove away from the Nightmare Investigation Bureau’s headquarters, which resembled a steel fortress, and merged into the city’s evening rush-hour traffic.
The atmosphere inside the vehicle was so quiet it felt oppressive.
Lu Yueqi sat in the passenger seat, her body stretched taut.
She was wearing a brand-new, tailor-made, dark-gray standard combat uniform issued by the bureau. The material was very special—lightweight yet tough, with additional protective layers at the joints. Hanging from the tactical belt around her waist were a first-aid kit, a high-intensity flashlight, and the mental stability monitor Lan Ce had given her.
All of this felt unbearably unfamiliar and unreal to her. A few weeks ago, she had still just been a streamer telling ghost stories in her livestream room while scaring herself half to death. And now, she was truly about to face beings far more terrifying than the ghosts and monsters in those stories.
She secretly glanced at Bai Yu, who was driving beside her.
Bai Yu had changed out of the soft sweater he usually wore and was likewise dressed in a combat uniform, which made his figure appear even straighter and more upright. He focused on the road ahead, the lines of his side profile appearing somewhat cold and hard under the glow of the city’s neon lights. His pale complexion and those calm eyes made his entire person exude a detached air that warned strangers away.
“Nervous?”
Bai Yu’s voice suddenly sounded, breaking the silence in the car.
“Huh? I… I’m not!” Lu Yueqi was like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, subconsciously straightening her back and stubbornly denying it. But her slightly trembling fingertips and somewhat pale lips had already betrayed her.
Bai Yu did not expose her. He merely said calmly, “Fear is the most normal stress response intelligent beings have when facing the unknown and danger. It will make your heartbeat accelerate, speed up your blood circulation, and sharpen your senses. In a sense, fear is a protective mechanism. What investigators need to do is not eliminate fear, but learn to coexist with it—or take it one step further and use it.”
He paused, then continued, “Remember, from now on, your fear is also your weapon. You are a ‘Dreamwalker.’ Your perception of malignant Nightmares is more sensitive than any instrument. When you feel your hair stand on end, when you hear sounds that don’t exist, when you see fleeting hallucinations, do not panic, and even more so, do not scream. What you need to do is calm down immediately, analyze the source of that fear, and then tell me. Your senses are our radar.”
Lu Yueqi listened blankly. Bai Yu’s words were like a clear spring, slightly calming the heart that had been thrown into disorder by fear. She nodded hard. “I… I understand.”
“Good.”
After Bai Yu said those two words, he stopped speaking, and the car returned to silence.
“What a boring pre-battle speech.” Hei Yan’s voice lazily sounded in the depths of Bai Yu’s consciousness. “Rather than teach this fledgling how to control its trembling, it would be better to throw her straight into the storm and see whether her wings snap and she falls, or whether she can cry out the first dirge that belongs to her in the depths of despair. A scene like that would be art with at least some value to appreciate.”
Bai Yu ignored him. He knew that what Hei Yan desired was the ultimate chaos and despair, but what he had to do was precisely to find and protect that thread of order called “hope” within this chaos and despair.
The off-road vehicle gradually drove away from the bustling city center, and the scenery outside the window became more and more desolate. Tall buildings were replaced by low, dilapidated factory buildings, and bright lights became dim streetlamps along the roadside. In the end, the vehicle turned off the main road and onto a bumpy dirt path. On both sides of the road were weeds as tall as half a person, undulating like waves under the headlights.
At the end of the road, the outline of a huge, pitch-black building lay like a steel behemoth crouching in the night.
That was the “Dreamland” Toy Factory.
The factory’s enclosing wall had long since fallen into ruin. The massive iron gate was covered in rust, and on it was a cartoon rabbit trademark sprayed in red paint. After long years of erosion, the paint had peeled away, exposing rust that looked like dried blood, turning the rabbit’s once-cute smiling face strange and hideous.
Bai Yu parked the vehicle in a hidden corner.
“Get out. Check your equipment.”
The two of them got out. The suburban night air was cold and damp, carrying a distinctive odor mixed with rust and humus.
Lu Yueqi could not help shivering and subconsciously pulled her combat uniform tighter around herself.
Bai Yu handed her a tactical earpiece. “Maintain communication. Stay close to me. Don’t move more than three meters away from my side. Remember, inside the factory, don’t trust anything that seems too ‘normal,’ and don’t touch any objects lightly. Understood?”
“Understood!” Lu Yueqi took a deep breath and worked hard to make her voice sound less shaky.
They did not take the main entrance. Bai Yu led her around to the side of the factory, found a broken window, and easily climbed in.
The interior of the factory was a darkness so dense one could not see their own hand before their face.
Bai Yu turned on his flashlight, and a bright white beam instantly pierced the darkness, illuminating the area where they stood. This seemed to be a massive production workshop, the air filled with a heavy smell of dust. Wherever the beam reached, they could see still production lines and huge, silent machines.
Countless motes of dust danced up and down in the beam of light, like a silent snowfall.
“Keep up.”
Bai Yu’s voice came through the earpiece, clear and calm. Lu Yueqi swallowed and followed closely behind him, also turning on her own flashlight. Two beams of light were like two sharp swords, arduously carving out a small patch of brightness within this darkness where time seemed to have frozen.
Their footsteps were the only sound in this space. Each time they rang out, they would trigger a chain of hollow echoes throughout the empty workshop, as if other invisible people were imitating their steps.
Lu Yueqi’s heart rose to her throat. She could even clearly hear her own heartbeat pounding like a drum.
They walked onto a main production line.
The conveyor belt was covered with half-finished plastic dolls. None of those dolls had been painted yet, giving them a ghastly white, waxen appearance. Some had no eyeballs installed, leaving behind two pitch-black eye sockets. Some had mouths split into strange arcs, as if silently shrieking with laughter. Others had limbs twisted into unnatural poses.
Under the light of the flashlights, row after row of motionless, incomplete dolls formed a squad that seemed to be inspecting them.
Lu Yueqi felt her scalp go numb.
She kept feeling that the instant her flashlight beam moved away, those dolls’ heads would quietly turn, using their hollow eye sockets to gaze silently at her back from within the darkness.
“Ding-dong… ding… dong…”
Just then, a faint and intermittent strain of music drifted over from the depths of the workshop.
It was the sound of a music box.
The melody should have been crisp and pleasant, but inside this factory, it was like a soul-summoning tune from another world, every note carrying a sinister chill.
Bai Yu stopped, listened for a moment, then gave Lu Yueqi a gesture meaning “advance.”
“Bai… Bai Yu…” Lu Yueqi’s voice carried a sobbing tone, pressed extremely low. “I… I think I hear… besides the music, there’s also… there’s also a child crying…”
Bai Yu’s voice came through the earpiece, still calm. “Describe the direction and feeling of the crying.”
“It’s… it’s in the same direction as the music… very far away… very stifled… like someone crying underwater… hearing it makes my chest feel so awful…” Lu Yueqi hugged her arms, feeling a chill shoot all the way up her spine to the top of her skull.
“Good. Keep perceiving. Don’t be afraid. I’m right beside you.”
Bai Yu’s comfort and affirmation slightly eased Lu Yueqi’s fear.
She could help Bai Yu here.
That realization gave rise to a faint thread of courage within her fear.
Following the sound of the music, they crossed the enormous production workshop and entered a long, narrow corridor. On both sides of the corridor were offices, most of the glass on their doors already shattered, revealing pitch-black interiors.
The music was becoming clearer and clearer.
In the end, they stopped in front of a door at the end of the corridor. A sign hung on the door. The writing on it had already become blurry, but they could vaguely make out the words “Quality Inspection Department.”
The music was coming from behind this tightly shut door.
Bai Yu did not push the door open immediately. First, he glanced at Lu Yueqi, using his eyes to signal for her to prepare herself. Then he gently pressed his ear against the cold iron door.
Aside from the tinkling music, the interior of the room was deathly still.
He grasped the doorknob and slowly pushed the door open a crack.
An even denser smell of decay surged out through the gap.
Bai Yu shone the light of his flashlight inside through the crack.
Unexpectedly, this office was not as messy as the outside. A clean desk, a chair, a file cabinet—the furnishings were simple and tidy, as if the owner had only just left.
On the desk sat an exquisitely crafted ballerina music box. At that moment, the tiny dancer was spinning tirelessly along with the crisp music.
Everything looked as if… there was nothing abnormal.
Bai Yu pushed open the door, and he and Lu Yueqi entered one after the other.
The instant both of them stepped into the office at the same time—
“Click.”
The music from the music box came to an abrupt stop. The spinning ballerina also suddenly froze in place, facing an eerie direction.
The entire room instantly fell into a suffocating silence.
Lu Yueqi felt as if her heartbeat had skipped a beat.
Bai Yu’s gaze instantly sharpened. The beam of his flashlight swept across every corner of the room like a searchlight.
Desk, chair, file cabinet… nothing abnormal.
No.
Something was wrong.
Bai Yu’s beam suddenly fixed beneath the desk.
In the shadow cast by the desk, at some point, there had appeared a tiny pair of feet wearing red leather shoes.
Immediately after, a doll wearing an old white dress “stood” up little by little from under the desk with an extremely uncoordinated posture.
Its body was very dirty, and its dress was covered in stains. Its golden curls were messy and tangled.
The most terrifying thing was its face.
That little ceramic face, which should have been delicate and adorable, had no eyes.
Only two pitch-black holes.
It just “stood” there behind the desk, motionless.
“Hee… heehee…”
The laughter of a little girl abruptly rang out in the silent office.
That laughter seemed to be pressed right against Bai Yu’s and Lu Yueqi’s ears.
With a series of cracking sounds, the doll’s featureless face slowly turned toward them.
I went traveling during the holiday, so only one chapter today.