Dimensional Hotel

Yu Sheng suddenly regretted creating so many Irenes.

Especially when all three Irenes jumped on him at once, squealing, scratching, and shouting in chaos. When there were fewer than two dolls, Yu Sheng could easily push them off with a flick of his hand. But now, with three—one of them made of rebar and stone—their collective impact was like being smacked with a bag of cement. Fortunately, Yu Sheng had been eating well and keeping fit lately. If he had been an average guy, one pounce from an Irene might have knocked him unconscious.

Moments later, Yu Sheng was left with several bite marks on his forehead and three chatterbox dolls clinging to him, utterly defeated.

“Get off me,” he sighed, looking at the trio latched onto his legs, shoulders, and collar. “Especially you with the towel—your towel’s about to fall off.”

The Irene wrapped in a towel yelped in surprise and, along with the other two Irenes, jumped off him. The towel-clad doll stood on the bed, staring up at him. “Hey! Where are my clothes?”

Yu Sheng rummaged through the bedside drawer and tossed her a patched-up dress. “Here, I fixed your old one. The burnt parts were cut out, and I used decorative frills from the hem to patch up the noticeable spots. It’s not perfect, but it’ll do until I buy you a new one in a few days.”

“Cool! Thanks!” The towel-wrapped doll beamed, grabbing the dress and dashing to the bathroom. “Don’t peek!”

“…Why would I?” Yu Sheng rolled his eyes and shouted after her. “I made your bodies, remember?” He turned his gaze back to the two remaining Irenes, who stood on the floor, staring at him intently.

Suddenly, Yu Sheng smacked his forehead. “Ah! I forgot to tell Little Red Riding Hood about Xiao Xiao! I knew I was forgetting something.”

“Xiao Xiao? That kid from the orphanage?” one of the Irenes asked, blinking as she recalled the name. “What happened to her?”

“She ended up in that ‘weird dream’ of mine—you know, the wasteland one,” Yu Sheng explained. “She seemed to have fallen into it while trying to escape the wolves in the Black Forest…”

Yu Sheng recounted his dream and mentioned encountering the Hunter’s illusion. However, he left out the part where he almost “wore” the hunter’s gear. The Irenes listened, their expressions growing more incredulous. One couldn’t hold back her remark. “How are your dreams always this bizarre?”

“I don’t know!” Yu Sheng raised his hands helplessly. “It’s not like I can control them.”

The two Irenes exchanged doubtful looks. After a pause, one of them tilted her head thoughtfully. “Still, your theory about that ‘weird dream’ being a separate consciousness space makes sense. Based on the patterns so far, it seems less like your personal dream and more like a place you ‘connect’ to while dreaming.

“As for Little Red Riding Hood, Xiao Xiao, and that dumb fox, they might have tapped into your blood’s power and gained some kind of permission to access it.”

“So, what’s that wasteland all about?” Yu Sheng frowned. “Could it be another otherworldly domain?”

Both Irenes replied in unison, “How would we know if you don’t?”

The Irene with the charcoal frame waved dismissively. “Forget it. No point guessing blindly. Next time you sleep, I’ll guide you, and we’ll investigate properly.”

“Sounds good,” Yu Sheng agreed, glancing at the darkening sky outside the window. “But for now, let’s focus on that suspicious ‘museum commission.’ Little Red Riding Hood should be here soon.”

The Irenes visibly grew serious.

“I was going to mention this earlier—there’s a strong stench of conspiracy behind this,” one noted.

Yu Sheng arched a brow but said nothing.

“You’ve probably sensed it too,” the doll continued. “If this were just a simple case of a ‘fake commission,’ it could easily be attributed to some greedy Association member tampering with the process to embezzle museum artifacts. But now the commissioner is dead, and the strangest part of all is that ritual in the museum.”

Yu Sheng’s face darkened. He couldn’t forget what he had seen at the museum: the sacrificial victim bound in iron thorns in the posture of a Weeping One, the blood-stained White Exhibition Hall, the grotesque ‘security’ entities, and the incident where Little Red Riding Hood lost control.

To make matters worse, it had all happened when Little Red Riding Hood was nearing her ‘coming of age,’ a time when she was most vulnerable to the Black Forest’s pull.

…

Shadows of wolves flitted through the old residential area behind the bustling commercial district. From the busy main roads to the quiet, dilapidated streets, the pack moved silently, eventually reaching the desolate lot at Wutong Road No. 66. Amid them, Little Red Riding Hood emerged, her eyes locking onto the house ahead.

She froze. Though she had prepared herself for the reality of Yu Sheng’s blood affecting her perception, seeing the once-empty space now occupied by a fortress-like domain was surreal.

Where a graffiti-covered low wall once stood, a grand old house now loomed.

The wolves dissolved into shadows as Little Red Riding Hood approached. Before she could knock, the plain-looking door opened, and Yu Sheng greeted her with a smile.

“I saw you from the second-floor window. Come in.”

Still dazed, Little Red Riding Hood stepped inside.

It was her third visit to this house. From her initial awkwardness to a slightly uneasy second visit, she now felt oddly familiar with the place. But her composure shattered when three Irenes descended the stairs, one by one, greeting her as they went.

Her eyes widened as she rubbed them vigorously, but when she looked again, there were still three dolls. Two ran off to watch TV, while the third approached her.

“You’re spacing out!” the doll teased.

“…Why is there another one?!” Little Red Riding Hood turned to Yu Sheng, dumbfounded.

“Oh, yeah. There’s a new one,” Yu Sheng replied casually. “She’s a combat-specialized model made for fighting entities like Hunger and Evil Wolves. I call her Irene MK-II…”

As Yu Sheng explained, the Irenes protested, “Don’t give us random designations! At least call me something cooler, like Valkyrie-Type!”

Yu Sheng’s lips twitched as he suppressed a retort. A 66.6 cm doll calling herself a Valkyrie? Even a Valkyrie’s shield spirit would be taller than her. But he didn’t dare say it aloud. Facing three Irenes in attack formation was no joke.

By the time Yu Sheng led Little Red Riding Hood to the living room, she was still trying to process everything.

Foxy walked in with a plate of washed fruit, placing it on the coffee table.

Yu Sheng immediately inspected the fruit for bite marks. Not that he didn’t trust Foxy, but if she had snacked on them, she wouldn’t serve leftovers. More likely, she would eat an entire bowl in the kitchen and bring only the untouched ones.

Unaware of Yu Sheng’s thoughts, Little Red Riding Hood thanked Foxy but noticed something odd. Among the nine fluffy tails behind her, one drooped limply, as though broken.

Yu Sheng noticed too. “What’s up with your tail? Is it hurt?”

Foxy beamed, lifting her tails to show him. “Look! No more static electricity!”

Yu Sheng blinked, touching the drooping tail before understanding. “Oh, it’s a ground wire,” he explained to Little Red Riding Hood, who was utterly baffled.

“…?” She was starting to think she’d gotten used to Wutong Road No. 66, but the place always managed to surprise her. Whether it was the ever-increasing number of Irenes or the quirky Nine-Tailed Fox grounding herself to combat winter static, this house exuded a unique kind of eccentricity.

Her musings were interrupted when Yu Sheng asked, “Little Red Riding Hood, have you ever made enemies before?”

This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation