As the distance to Wang Xiaoming closed, the number of yellow papers began to increase sharply, surging from just three or four sheets at the start to a staggering quantity.
But everyone seated there showed absolutely no reaction, still talking amongst themselves.
These yellow papers seemed like living things, swiftly crawling up Wang Xiaoming’s arms to cover him. In mere moments, a humanoid figure completely wrapped in yellow paper appeared before the conference table, yet Wang Xiaoming’s voice didn’t stop, still emanating unhurriedly from within the paper.
Liu San’s expression was grave. His attack hadn’t had any effect; his own supernatural ability seemed to be nothing but an empty shell.
“A dream? Or perhaps an illusion…”
Liu San stood up and looked at the big black dog in the corner. The dog was enormous, almost the size of a small calf, and it lay there motionless.
“When facing consciousness-type supernatural phenomena, you can’t rely on conventional experience… Standard supernatural confrontation isn’t very effective here… That dog is far too conspicuous compared to the rest of the environment. In supernatural incidents, anomalies usually mean variables.”
Thinking this, Liu San stood up and walked toward the big black dog. The dog showed no reaction whatsoever, as if it couldn’t see him.
He squatted down and was about to reach out to touch the dog’s head when, suddenly, his vision blurred, and a wave of dizziness washed over him.
“I’ve been attacked…”
His eyelids grew heavier and heavier, and the world before him became increasingly blurred. Liu San didn’t panic; he was confident he could endure an attack of this level.
“My actions were correct. When I attacked Wang Xiaoming earlier, my body showed no abnormalities. This dog is the key.”
Using his last shred of clear consciousness, Liu San turned his head with difficulty to look at Wang Xiaoming, who had already been wrapped into a paper man. Wang Xiaoming, who had still been speaking just moments ago, was now lying on the ground, completely motionless.
“The yellow paper took effect. The supernatural isn’t nonexistent—it was just offset. In other words, I possess all my real-world supernatural abilities here, but my actions touched a critical point in this space, forcing whoever is manipulating this scene to attack me.”
“He’s shown a flaw. I still have a chance.”
The next moment, Liu San could no longer control his body and fell straight backward.
Before the conference table, the scene was a familiar one. Wang Xiaoming was repeating what he had just said, and Shen Liang was once again standing up to distribute intelligence.
Liu San was back in his seat again.
His wizened face rarely showed such an expression of disbelief.
“Has headquarters been invaded… or was I attacked by a ghost? This sense of déjà vu… consciousness-type…”
“Wait!” Liu San suddenly spotted two or three yellow papers lying on the table before Wang Xiaoming.
“I’ve been here before.”
Liu San instantly understood the situation he was facing.
“Those yellow papers are my medium. Without my involvement, no one can use them.”
He looked around. The people nearby were very wooden, like actors in a film, performing their motions rigidly.
“Why would I choose to attack Wang Xiaoming…”
“No, that’s not right. The question is, how many times have I woken up…”
One had to admit that Liu San’s reaction was extremely fast. Captain-level individuals were always particularly sharp when facing supernatural incidents.
His gaze fell on that dog in the corner.
“A dog? That’s far too abnormal. How could a dog appear here?”
Liu San stood up again and walked toward the dog, but the foot he was about to step out froze in midair. After thinking for a moment, he sat back down.
“If this isn’t the first time I’ve woken up, then I should have already made contact with that dog, yet I’m still trapped in this repeating loop. That means the dog cannot be touched for now…”
This time, Liu San didn’t try to attack Wang Xiaoming. Instead, he looked at Yang Jian; he was trying to confirm whether this Yang Jian was real.
Yang Jian seemed to notice him as well, turning his head to look back.
The two stared at each other for several seconds, both seemingly trying to confirm each other’s authenticity.
“Stop looking. It’s real.”
A voice came from Liu San’s side. He turned his head to see Shen Lin sitting at a corner of the conference table, watching the two of them.
Shen Lin rapped his knuckles on the table and said in a deep voice, “No need to doubt it. This is a consciousness-type attack. We should be on the moon right now, yet we’ve suddenly appeared at headquarters. Someone attacked us the instant we arrived on the moon.”
“The moon?” A trace of confusion flashed across Liu San’s face. Shen Lin’s words triggered something, and memories surged back like tidal waves, rapidly restoring themselves.
“That’s right… The vengeful ghost that Shen Lin controls is itself a consciousness-type entity. Attacks of the same type probably don’t affect him much.”
Yang Jian stood up, his Ghost Eye fixed on Wang Xiaoming.
“Let’s test something first.”
As he spoke, he drew out a rusty hatchet and walked over.
Wang Xiaoming was still talking to himself, showing no reaction to Yang Jian’s actions. Yang Jian didn’t hesitate, raising his hand and slashing down. Wang Xiaoming’s head rolled to the ground.
Yet that severed head continued speaking about precautions for the raid plan, while the headless body kept operating the computer before it.
Without the slightest hesitation, Yang Jian turned and swung twice more, beheading Cao Yanhua and Shen Liang.
At the same time, behind Li Jun and Wang Chaling, Shen Lin’s figure flickered into view, bringing an axe down viciously from above.
As the two men attacked, the scene before them began to shatter, and that feeling of blurry vision returned…
By the time Liu San came back to his senses, he found himself sitting in his seat once again—the familiar scene, the familiar conference table, the familiar seats, and the familiar people.
Wang Xiaoming’s voice lingered in his ears, and Shen Liang was still distributing intelligence.
Yellow papers drifted through the air, and fragmentary memories surfaced.
Liu San looked at Shen Lin and Yang Jian. “We’re trapped.”
Liu San reacted very quickly. His memories had already recovered, and he rapidly analyzed the situation. The first time he woke up in this space and attacked Wang Xiaoming, his supernatural ability hadn’t been ineffective; it had conflicted with the space, but ultimately still taken effect. The attack had succeeded, and the space was reset.
The second attack was just now, by Shen Lin and Yang Jian, yet the space had been reset once again.
Shen Lin’s gaze fell on the dog in the corner. The only thing here that differed from his memories was the big black dog that had appeared abruptly in the corner.
The Ghost Eye rotated restlessly. Yang Jian was rapidly analyzing the situation they faced. The attack by him and Shen Lin just now had been effective, forcing this space to reset again.
But Yang Jian couldn’t determine the supernatural limit of this strange space. Continuing to waste time like this was meaningless.
A moment later, Yang Jian extended three fingers and said, “To trap the three of us, it would take at least three Kings. I’m assuming there are only three attackers.”