Chapter Seventy-Three: Chuchu

The once quiet and peaceful corridor suddenly turned chilling and sinister.

Listening to the whispers and eerie laughter echoing around him, Fang Tang scratched his head with a blank expression. He felt nothing toward such simple horror—a model socialist youth, he never believed in ghosts and spirits. Under the shroud of these twisted rules, all things uncanny could be defined as products of the rules themselves—in other words, as the Fallen.

That was always how the Eye dismissed things: if in doubt, blame the rules.

Tightening his grip on the Great Xia Dragon-Sparrow sword, Fang Tang listened closely to the strange laughter and moved lightly toward its source.

His steps stopped before Room 16, from which the laughter emanated.

Fang Tang drew his sword and kicked open the door.

The room was empty, bearing only traces of cleaning after a fire.

“Is this a mirror image?”

Fang Tang frowned, glancing at Room 15, directly opposite.

If Room 16 was a mirror, then the real laughter must be in Room 15.

He twisted the doorknob and found it unlocked—something he hadn’t encountered in the left corridor.

He could enter.

Gently turning the knob, he pushed open the door to Room 15. His movements were soft and slow, and as he opened the door, the laughter grew clearer and more frenzied.

“Ha ha ha…”

“Bang, bang…”

As soon as he cracked the door, a pounding erupted from the far end of the corridor, accompanied by cursing and furious howls.

“Tsk, quite mad,” Fang Tang muttered, now reassured.

Clearly, the monsters in these rooms could not step beyond their doors—or else they’d have already come for him.

Now sure of this, Fang Tang swung the door wide open. The laughter cut off abruptly, and all the sounds in the corridor vanished in that instant.

“Another empty room?”

He frowned, surveying the chaotic mess within—no one was there.

“Ha ha ha…”

Laughter rose again, this time from the left corridor, mocking and derisive, as if ridiculing Fang Tang’s actions.

Fang Tang sneered, “What’s so funny, you trash that can’t even leave your room?”

At his taunt, the laughter ceased, and the entire floor fell into utter silence.

Ignoring these mischievous Fallen, Fang Tang examined Room 15.

Unlike the other rooms, this one was filled with clutter, like a trash heap—snack wrappers and used paper balls littered the floor. The only clean spot was the desk, where a folder lay at its center.

Inside was another report, this time about a psychiatric patient named Zhou Bukou. The data had clearly been altered, and even the final note—“not to be discharged”—had the word “not” crossed out.

“So you’re Zhou Bukou? That’s your name? Your laughter is unbearable. After the arrival of the Twisted Rule, some of your wishes came true, yet you’re forever imprisoned in this room. Truly pitiful.”

Fang Tang mocked as he observed the room.

At last, he noticed a shadowy figure reflected in the window glass, just as he had seen the faint silhouette of a little girl in the corridor—so indistinct that it could be missed entirely.

The figure was a man, sitting on the bed hugging his knees, eyes fixed intently on Fang Tang.

Fang Tang saw the same indentation on the bed as if someone were sitting there, and he laughed.

“Well, look at what you’ve become—unseen by the living, visible only as a reflection in the glass… Oh! That’s right, this floor is called the Mirror World, so you—and all of you—can only exist within mirrors.”

The realization struck Fang Tang. He smiled slightly at the bed, then left Room 15.

Standing in the corridor, he noticed another indistinct shadow had appeared in the middle of the left corridor.

“Why did they end up like this?” Fang Tang wondered, gazing toward the far end of the hall.

Perhaps the answers he sought lay ahead.

There were only twenty rooms on the first floor, yet two layers of mirror images.

The left corridor mirrored the right. Five rooms to the north and five to the south, each set reflecting the other.

That meant only five rooms on this floor would reveal ghosts.

Following the pattern of the letter W, Fang Tang quickly found the other four haunted rooms: 11, 14, 18, and 19.

The origin of the Mirror World lay within these four rooms—most likely in the depths of the corridor.

Room 19.

Standing before its door, Fang Tang pushed it open.

A furious pounding came from Room 18 as the Fallen inside raged, but could not escape their prison.

Unlike the others, Room 19 was awash in pink—a girl’s paradise. Stuffed bears were neatly lined on the bed, books arranged on the desk, and in the center lay a diary.

“This isn’t girlishness—it’s a pink obsession,” Fang Tang thought, then walked over to the desk and picked up the notebook.

May 26, 3001. Sunny.
Nurse Sister brought Chuchu delicious snacks again today. Chuchu is very happy. After eating, Chuchu had a long, long dream. In the dream, Chuchu entered an amusement park, where there were clowns who made people laugh, thrilling roller coasters, and a fun haunted house.

Chuchu really wants to play at the amusement park, but Nurse Sister said Chuchu cannot go out, nor play with others. Chuchu is very sad.

July 6, 3002. Overcast.
The weather is so bad today—Chuchu can’t see the sun. But Chuchu in the glass looks so happy, nothing like me at all. Chuchu still prefers sunny days filled with sunlight, because then, someone can go out and play.

Ugh, it’s so annoying. Why is the Chuchu in the glass so hateful? Chuchu doesn’t want to imprison anyone, nor does she like being imprisoned.

September 13, 3002. Rain.
I don’t want to write a diary today, because the Chuchu in the glass is getting clearer and clearer. She keeps mocking me, calling me a coward, a timid girl.

Chuchu is not a coward. Chuchu doesn’t like the self in the glass.

September 15, 3003. Sunny.
The sunlight is so nice today. Finally, I can’t see the Chuchu in the glass anymore. Watching them have so much fun outside, Chuchu really wants to join, but can only play in the room.

Nurse Sister brought a box of crayons and taught Chuchu how to draw. Chuchu is very happy.

…

The diary was short. Fang Tang read it patiently, then looked up at the window.

The gloomy sky turned the glass into a mirror.

A girl stood in the reflection, smiling at him.

Her smile was strange.

A triple mirror image!

Fang Tang narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing the girl.

[Oh ho ho~ What a pitiful little girl. Clearly not mentally ill, yet sent to an asylum, imprisoned here for life as an invisible ‘ghost’. If it were me, I could never endure it.

That’s right. As the girl grew and her thoughts became less pure, the Twisted Rule descended, and her power erupted, transforming the entire floor into a Mirror World.

Fourth-tier Fallen. Perfect mutation: Mirror World. Rare mutations: Multiple Imprisonment, Dreamlike Damage.

ps: With your current strength, you can’t defeat her. And here, in her own domain, you have no way to attack her. The Eye’s advice: slip away—head to the second floor.]