Hotel Between Worlds

Callen stared blankly at the empty corner of the wall, still holding the sampling scraper in his hand. He looked so bewildered, it was as if he had forgotten what he was doing.

Meanwhile, the middle-aged man referred to as "Captain Song", Captain of the Special Operations Division's Second Unit. immediately furrowed his brows the moment he saw the bloodstains disappear.

Something had vanished from his memory and thoughts, but a lingering impression remained. That faint trace triggered his "spiritual sense," alerting him that something wasn't quite right.

A faint, murky gleam appeared in Captain's eyes. He immediately composed his mind, trying to "solidify" the last remnants of that impression deep within him, to keep it from dissipating along with the rest of the memory. Years of professional training kicked in. Callen, still gripping the scraper, hesitated for a moment before looking up. "Sir, I feel like I suddenly forgot what I was doing. Was there something here just now?"

"There's cognitive interference!" Captain responded instantly and gave a quick warning. "Check the 'depth' here immediately!"

Without hesitation, Callen set down the sampling tool. He quickly unhooked a palm-sized black box from his belt, tapped a few times on its surface, then pulled out a thin "tube" from the side. The tip resembled a needle, and he connected it directly to his eyeball. Once everything was in place, he lifted his head and slowly scanned the area with the eye connected to the tube.

A faint buzzing sound came from within the black box, and liquid seemed to flow slowly through the narrow tube. Callen's eye gradually darkened. Through his spiritual vision, the entire old street began to take on a black-and-white tone.

"Depth L-0. No Otherworld reaction," Callen reported as he continued to observe. "I don't see anything that came from the Otherworld or any residues either."

Captain frowned and glanced at the device in Callen's hand. It was a portable depth detector. While it didn't match the range and sensitivity of the suitcase-sized standard models, even a portable version should be able to detect any depth fluctuations nearby.

He was certain that something had indeed affected his memory and thoughts just now. That lingering "impression" was something he had forcibly anchored within himself. There had to be something unusual here influencing them. But... the device wasn't picking up anything.

Just as he was about to instruct Callen to adjust the detector's sensitivity, the latter suddenly seemed to notice something.

Callen was staring intently toward the end of the alleyway.

The eye connected to the tube was as dark as ink, reflecting a different layer of vision. Amid the grayscale structures of the street, he caught a faint hint of color—so vague and washed-out it was impossible to make out what it was. But it was large. After straining his eyes for some time, he roughly outlined the shape, determining it to be about the size of a house.

"Captain Song, there's something ahead, but it's very faint. Looks like a house," he said while cautiously moving forward. "Depth reading still says zero, and no sign of contamination... I'm almost in front of it now. Can you sense anything?"

Captain followed close behind, gripping a badge in his pocket, ready to act at a moment's notice. He frowned and shook his head. "No warning from my spiritual sense."

Callen came to a stop. He felt he was now standing right in front of that vague patch of color. After a brief hesitation, he slowly reached out his hand.

A sharp screech suddenly erupted from the black box, followed by a few snapping noises and a puff of bluish smoke. The depth detector shut down.

The tube detached from his eye instantly, and a thick black sludge began to ooze out. The moment it touched the air, it evaporated into mist.

An intense stinging pain shot through his eye, and Callen couldn't help blurting out, "What the hell…" He flung the now-hot black box away and instinctively reached up to rub his connected eye. Captain quickly stepped forward and pressed a hand against Callen's temple. "Don't rub it! Just wait, it'll pass soon."

Callen froze on the spot. A burning sensation spread near his temple, but the discomfort in his eye rapidly faded. After a moment, he recovered and saw the smoking remains of the depth detector on the ground.

"...Should we report this to HQ?"

"We should."

"Thank goodness. That really scared me," Callen let out a sigh of relief, then turned and looked suspiciously in the direction he had just reached toward.

But there was only a small patch of open space there. At the far end stood a wall someone had sprayed it with colorful graffiti, drawing doors, windows, houses, trees, and stones in a childish scrawl.

He waved his hand in front of him, but touched nothing.

"There was definitely something here. The device detected it just before it broke down," Callen muttered. "Even right before it shorted out, the depth reading was still L-0."

"...Let's return to HQ first," Captain murmured after a few seconds of thought. "I'll report this to the council. This place definitely needs surveillance. It could be an unregistered Otherworld anomaly. We might need large-scale equipment and professional divers to handle it. Is your eye okay?"

"...If it's not, can I take half a day off?"

"No. We're short on staff."

"Then it's fine. I'll just use some eyedrops when I get back."

Captain nodded. Callen bent down and carefully picked up the now-extinguished remains of the detector. The two of them returned to the spot where their electric scooters were parked.

Callen turned his key. The scooter's screen flickered once and then went dark.

He stared at it for a moment, then looked up—just in time to meet Captain Song's equally blank expression.

"My scooter's dead… Yours too?"

*Captain silently nodded.*

"…Do you think it's just a coincidence?"

Captain gently shook his head and spoke in a low voice, "The people from the 'Academy' have a specific term for this phenomenon."

Callen was momentarily taken aback, then recalled something he had read in the past—

"Machine soul's displeased."

The two of them spoke at the same time, but not in sync.

Then they both fell silent for a moment, and this time said in unison, "You remembered it wrong."

"We'll talk about it later," Captain waved his hand and began slowly pushing his scooter. "Let's get out of here first."

Callen pushed his scooter behind Captain. "…Sir, are we really pushing these all the way back?"

"What else? You want to leave your scooter here?"

"Doesn't HQ have a utility van or something? At least call up that three-wheeled delivery scooter from the logistics downstairs… Pushing this back is going to kill me…"

"Stop complaining. Young as you are, your stamina's worse than mine?"

The two veteran agents of the Special Operations Bureau pushed their scooters farther and farther down the road, their figures gradually vanishing at the end of Wutong Street.

…

Darian had become quite familiar with the boundless, deep darkness around him. He'd been visiting frequently lately. Floating within this shadowy void almost felt like coming home.

Eileen's scream still rang in his ears.

He figured the scene of him stumbling into the room covered in blood, with a gaping hole in his abdomen, only to die inside must have scared the living daylights out of the painting's doll apparently, even as a "cursed object," Eileen didn't have the strongest mental fortitude.

And that made Darian all the more curious about what would happen after his "return."

When he came back to life and reappeared before Eileen… what kind of reaction would the doll lady have?

Would she… still remember how he died inside the house after opening that door?

While drifting through the darkness, the image of Lyra surfaced "before his eyes." He recalled the events in that valley under the night sky and remembered how, when Lyra first saw him in the ruined temple, she had completely forgotten that she had headbutted him to death. Although, for some reason, she later suddenly remembered, at first, Lyra had indeed totally forgotten about his "death."

Darian didn't know why this "forgetting" happened, nor could he be sure whether it was his issue or Lyra's. after all, that fox girl's thoughts already seemed quite scattered. It wouldn't be surprising if she randomly forgot things.

But if Eileen also didn't remember the moment he died after opening that door, then Darian could more or less conclude… the problem was with him.

There was no way to measure how long he'd been floating in the darkness, so after mentally sorting through all he'd experienced so far, Darian emptied his mind, letting his tense nerves rest a little while patiently waiting for the darkness to end.

Then he felt that familiar sensation of falling, he was rapidly "returning" to the human world.

Prepared this time, Darian immediately focused his mind, trying to capture the sensations at the very instant he crossed the "boundary."

Scene after scene flashed "before his eyes," and a subtle guiding force seemed to be drawing him toward a specific direction. He struggled to make sense of the chaotic images flooding his mind, but before he could grasp anything, one image suddenly expanded in his view.

66 Wutong Road, the living room just inside the door.

Darian's eyes snapped open.

Familiar furnishings came into view. In the dining room next to the living room, the elegant and rustic oil painting stood quietly on the table.

And then the silence was broken by the Eileen inside the painting.

"Darian! You're finally back!"

(End of Chapter)

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