The lead masked man: "..."
He turned around and nodded to the other accomplices, as if confirming a fact. "This one’s a lunatic."
Zhao Meiyou’s stomach gave a loud "gurgle."
The masked man: "...He’s probably just starved into madness."
"He’s got it bad."
"Poor thing."
"Should we give him a bite of the brain?"
*No way,* Zhao Meiyou thought. *Are these bastards actually going to eat my brain?*
*Who’s the crazy one here?*
He quickly tried to recall the last time the hospital had admitted someone with cannibalistic tendencies—it had been ages—and how the attending physician had handled it. He remembered now: there was no handling it. The guy had tried to assault a nurse on his second day and Zhao Meiyou had beaten him into paralysis.
As a result, the attending physician had locked Zhao Meiyou in solitary for a week on the grounds of "sleep-deprivation-induced rage."
Zhao Meiyou had always found the cannibal’s logic quite bizarre. Would anyone actually want to copulate with their food? Like Diao Chan tucking himself under the covers for a night of passion with a cucumber sandwich? But then, who would be on top?
In the split second his mind wandered, the lead masked man used the spoon to scoop out Zhao Meiyou’s brain in one clean motion. Then, like opening the lid of a box, another man popped open his own skull.
He took out his own brain.
Then he swapped Zhao Meiyou’s brain into his own head.
Finally, he peeled off his mask.
Zhao Meiyou saw that the man now had a face identical to his own.
"By swapping your brain, he can take your face," the lead masked man explained. He then began rummaging through his case, pulling out a variety of jars and bottles: mustard, ketchup, mayonnaise, and strawberry jam.
The masked man held the recently removed brain in front of him. "Which sauce do you want to dip it in?"
Zhao Meiyou: "...No chili or cumin?"
The masked man looked revolted. "People who eat chili are evil seeds!"
The other masked men chimed in: "Evil seeds should be burned at the stake!"
Zhao Meiyou jerked his chin toward the man who had just stolen his brain. "He’s me now. Burn him."
The man looked terrified. "I’m not! I didn’t!"
Zhao Meiyou: "Then give me back my brain."
"Fine, take it back!" The masked man actually tried to shove his own brain into Zhao Meiyou’s head.
"I meant my original brain!" Zhao Meiyou snapped.
"No!" the man cried, looking even more horrified. It was hard to tell who was the one being kidnapped. "Your brain has already violated the chastity of my skull!"
"Forget it, I can’t keep this up," Zhao Meiyou said, his patience exhausted. "Are you all fucking insane?"
There was no doubt about it. In reality, no one could think like this without a brain. He was absolutely dreaming—a dream even more ridiculous than Diao Chan sleeping with a cucumber sandwich.
In a dream, thoughts become reality. In the next second, he actually heard Diao Chan’s voice: "Zhao Meiyou!"
Zhao Meiyou turned his head. Sure enough, the other man was standing not far away, next to a door. "Diao Chan, you finally showed up!" Zhao Meiyou yelled at the top of his lungs. "I hope I didn’t interrupt your quality time with a cucumber?"
Diao Chan looked at him with an expression that asked if he was mentally ill. Then, the sound of guns cocking echoed as the masked men around Zhao Meiyou all raised their weapons.
*Since this is my dream,* Zhao Meiyou thought, *Dream, let dicks fly out of those gun barrels.*
The next moment, the guns fired. Something flew out! Flesh-colored! *Nice!* Zhao Meiyou cheered internally, turning to see the expressions on their faces.
—Instead, he heard a chorus of moans.
"Dreams are projections of the subconscious," Zhao Meiyou muttered, his expression complicated. "...I might actually need to see someone in the psych department." What kind of absolute trash was floating around in his subconscious?
Before the moaning stopped, several bangs erupted from the other side—it was Diao Chan, and he actually had a gun.
Unlike the "flesh-rod" barrage on Zhao Meiyou’s side, Diao Chan was clearly using live ammunition. His aim was true, and the heads of several masked men blossomed into gore.
"Are you okay?" Diao Chan ran over and patted his face. "Zhao Meiyou? Xi Shi? Are you actually scared stupid?"
Zhao Meiyou: "Untie these restraints first."
Diao Chan looked surprised. "You forgot? Last time you were in solitary, you broke out of a straightjacket in three seconds for a literal 'locked room' escape. You even won first place at the annual party for that performance!"
Zhao Meiyou: "This is a 1999 antique version! It’s the great-great-grandfather of the straightjacket I know!"
"Oh, fair point." Diao Chan studied it for a long time before finally managing to undo the straps on his legs. "I can’t really get the upper body ones..."
"Enough." Zhao Meiyou stood up, chair and all, and kicked Diao Chan.
Diao Chan failed to dodge and looked at him in disbelief. "Zhao Meiyou, have you finally lost it?"
Zhao Meiyou kicked him again. "You bastard, you just blew my brains out!"
Once the sequence of events was explained, Diao Chan looked at him with immense guilt. "I’m sorry."
"Forget it," Zhao Meiyou said, sitting back down. "If 'sorry' worked, we wouldn't need mental hospitals."
Diao Chan looked at the red and white mess on the ground, hesitating. "If we clean this up, can we still stuff it back in?"
"If it’s been on the ground for more than three seconds, you can’t eat it. That’s common sense," Zhao Meiyou said. "How many seconds has it been for you?"
"True." Diao Chan nodded and squatted down to look him in the eye. "I’m sorry, Xi Shi."
Zhao Meiyou clicked his tongue. "I said forget it, why are you still apologizing..."
"Because I have to blow your head off one more time." Diao Chan raised the gun to his forehead.
Zhao Meiyou: "What?"
Before he could react, the gun fired, and blood sprayed.
In the instant his head exploded, Zhao Meiyou’s final thought was that the sensation of a bullet shredding his face was actually quite exhilarating—at least better than a chainsaw laboriously grinding through his skull.
One was like diarrhea; the other was like constipation.
***
When he woke up, Zhao Meiyou’s first words were: "I knew that grandson Diao Chan had been coveting my beauty for a long time."
"We even placed a bet on whether your first sentence would be a string of curses," a voice came from the side. "But even I didn't guess this answer. Typical you."
"Diao Chan?" Zhao Meiyou turned his head, his bones letting out a series of crisp cracks. He felt as if his entire body had been run over by a steamroller and then reassembled. "Holy shit, what happened to me?"
"Take a guess?"
Zhao Meiyou pondered for a moment, his expression becoming unreadable. "I think I had a very, very bizarre dream."
Diao Chan: "Mm-hmm."
Zhao Meiyou suddenly looked up and stared at him, clicking his tongue. "But looking at my body’s reaction... you didn't swipe some drugs from the pharmacy to knock me out and then have your way with me, did you?"
Diao Chan: "Uh... what?!"
*Damn it, I think it’s ridiculous too, but how else do I explain it?* Zhao Meiyou thought. *This whole night has been cucumbers and dicks; it’s exhausting. It must be the brain’s emergency response to external stimuli. But if I’ve actually hooked up with Diao Chan, there’s going to be a mountain of trouble. This is tough. Should I help him settle his family estate so I can inherit the money tree, and then open a chain of cucumber sandwich shops in the Lower Zone? What would that make me? His devoted wife or some low-born enchantress?*
*Zhao Meiyou, you’re certainly full of yourself,* he thought, calmly despising his own train of thought. *Already planning the marriage.*
"Zhao Meiyou, I don't know what you're thinking, but I'm begging you to be normal for once." Zhao Meiyou’s thoughts had long since bolted like wild horses; Diao Chan’s voice sounded like it was coming from billions of light-years away. "There are people watching. The Upper Zone isn't a lawless land."
*The Upper Zone?* Zhao Meiyou was startled. *No way, am I meeting the in-laws already?*
He had noticed when he woke up that there was no one else in the room besides him and Diao Chan. That meant surveillance. Zhao Meiyou watched as Diao Chan pulled out a remote. The right wall of the room instantly became transparent, turning into a single sheet of smooth, floor-to-ceiling glass.
The room was suddenly flooded with brilliant light. Sunlight for miles.
Zhao Meiyou estimated the height of their view and exchanged a look with Diao Chan. There was no doubt—this was the Upper Zone, and at an extreme height, likely close to the 900th floor.
"Normally, this would be handled by a professional government department, but considering your sudden situation, the declassification work fell to me." Diao Chan took a deep breath. "Zhao Meiyou, listen carefully to what I’m about to say."
Zhao Meiyou noted the term he used: *declassification*. It usually referred to unsealing confidential files after their secrecy period ended, but it also meant revealing high-level secrets to someone.
"You weren't dreaming before. All of those things were real."
"Or rather, they were 'quantum-state' realities."
"Outside of the linear time we inhabit, there are uncertain 'small worlds' floating around. People with special constitutions can travel between our reality and these small worlds."
Diao Chan pressed the remote, and a straight line appeared in mid-air, with irregular, fragmented blocks floating around it. He pointed to the line. "This is the reality we live in." Then he pointed to the floating fragments. "These are those small worlds."
"How these small worlds appeared and what caused them is currently unknown. From our current level of exploration, these small worlds are similar to a type of quantum field threshold. Ordinary people can't perceive them at all, but special individuals can achieve transit through certain means."
"So my 'dream' was me accidentally entering a quantum field threshold?" Zhao Meiyou understood quickly. "Was it pure coincidence, or am I one of those special people?"
Diao Chan studied him and sighed. "The latter. You are one of the special ones."
A moment later, several government specialists in uniforms entered the room, carrying black briefcases. One of them opened a case, and a floating screen displayed images—it was everything Zhao Meiyou had experienced in his "dream."
The footage started from the moment Diao Chan appeared. It seemed the government equipped "travelers" with some kind of recorder.
By extension, the government couldn't directly observe the quantum field thresholds.
"Citizen Zhao Meiyou, although you entered the quantum field threshold by accident, we have discovered that you are indeed one of the special individuals, and you likely possess a very rare constitution," the specialist said. "You said your brain was sawn open earlier?"
Zhao Meiyou hummed in affirmation. "Injuries in the quantum field don't carry over to reality?"
"Quite the opposite." The specialist adjusted his glasses. "Relic Law Article One: A Relic is not a dream."
Diao Chan stood behind Zhao Meiyou, his left hand resting on his shoulder. "Everything in a quantum field threshold is essentially in a quantum state. Some small worlds might be as dramatic as a dream, but the threshold is not a dream. It’s best not to get hurt in a Relic."
Zhao Meiyou: "What happens if you do?"
"Quantum state—it’s unknown," Diao Chan said. "In most cases, there won't be a problem, but..."
"Relic Law Article Two," the specialist interrupted Diao Chan. "The brain must not be injured."
"This is why the government has judged you to have a rare constitution." The specialist looked at Zhao Meiyou. "Injuries sustained by the brain in a Relic are transferred equally to reality. You are the sole exception."
"You are, to date, the only person who has suffered brain damage in a Relic and emerged without being brain dead."
Zhao Meiyou: "Is it a fluke, or do I really have this magical ability?"
"That’s unclear for now." The specialist smiled. "If you have the courage, you can try getting your head blown off again the next time you enter a Relic. When the experimental sample size is large enough, we’ll have an answer."
Right, the headshot. Zhao Meiyou looked at the floating screen, which was currently showing the scene of Diao Chan blowing his face apart with a single shot.
What he didn't expect was the even more ridiculous part: after Diao Chan blew Zhao Meiyou’s head off, he immediately turned the gun on himself and blew his own head off in the next second.
"Looking at this, both of our brains were blown out." Zhao Meiyou pointed at the screen. "Why are we both fine now?"
"Every Archaeologist’s body undergoes training and enhancement, giving them a special ability within a Relic," the specialist answered. "Citizen Diao Chan’s ability is 'Awakening.' Entering and leaving a Relic requires specific conditions; usually, leaving is much harder, sometimes requiring very complex operations to disconnect. But Citizen Diao Chan is different. He has a gun."
"This gun is solidified from his body through quantum mimicry. No matter which Relic he enters, that gun will be with him."
"As long as he is shot in the head by that gun, he can wake up from any Relic."
"I’m a bit confused." Zhao Meiyou looked at Diao Chan. "What exactly are 'Relics' and 'Archaeologists'?"
"They’re government code names," Diao Chan explained. "We use 'Relic' to refer to the quantum field thresholds, and 'Archaeologists' are the special people who can enter them."
*Got it. Terms used specifically for writing reports.*
"That concludes this declassification." The specialist folded his hands and looked levelly at Zhao Meiyou. "Citizen Zhao Meiyou, the government is extending an enlistment proposal to you today. Are you interested in becoming a member of the Archaeologists?"
"Four questions." Zhao Meiyou held up four fingers. "Working hours, salary and benefits, and personal freedom."
The specialist seemed prepared and took a laminated document from his briefcase, handing it over.
It was a work contract. Zhao Meiyou quickly scanned the long list of clauses.
It was quite generous.
The specialist watched him. "You can choose to accept or refuse. If you refuse, we will have a specialist wash this memory from your mind."
"Before that, I have one last question." Zhao Meiyou looked at Diao Chan behind him; the man’s hand had remained on his shoulder the entire time. "Diao Chan, when did you become an Archaeologist?"
Diao Chan was silent for a moment. "When I was very young."
Zhao Meiyou sighed and patted his hand. "You poor little thing."
He then turned back to the government specialist. "Fine. I accept."
"Then here is your first job description." True to government efficiency, the transition from hiring to deployment was seamless. The specialist handed him another file. "Relic A173. Exploration progress: 95%. Your first assignment will be there."
In the Metropolis, paper products were on the verge of extinction. Even the low-level hospitals in the 33rd District issued electronic prescriptions. Paper documents were easily damaged and inconvenient to carry; they were only used in rare circumstances, such as high-level secrets.
Zhao Meiyou flipped through the thick stack of documents. "What am I supposed to do?"
"Usually, an Archaeologist’s task is archaeology—simply exploring the Relic," the specialist said. "Relic Law Article Three: Unless solidified through quantum mimicry, what matter can be brought into or out of a Relic remains an unknown variable."
Zhao Meiyou: "I don't follow. Speak plain English."
"There’s some prep work before entering a Relic, but few people carry anything on them because it might not make it through," Diao Chan said. "It’s the same coming out. What you can bring back is random."
The specialist nodded in agreement. "Relic Law Article Four: Only non-living entities can be brought out of a Relic."
Zhao Meiyou flipped to the last page of the file. The header bore a large, red warning stamp.
The specialist looked at Zhao Meiyou with a meaningful expression.
"However, Relic Law Article Four has recently been challenged."
"An Archaeologist has brought a living person out of a Relic."
***
