Doomsday Wonderland Vol. 13: Sleepwalking in Dreamland

1576: Wu Yiliu's First Day After Leaving

The day Wu Yiliu left Professor Qiao's house was divided into several parts.

First, he spent the whole day looking for Milan, and it wasn't until dusk that Milan finally appeared. Second, after about half an hour of conversation, Milan quickly realized the severity of the situation and agreed to contact other posthumans. She and Wu Yiliu agreed to meet in two days at a specific time and place, then bid each other farewell in the dark.

Third, after Milan left, he sat alone on the steps of the small inn for most of an hour.

By all accounts, he had completed his task, and it was time to go back. Professor Qiao was getting old and couldn't always rely on canned soup for dinner. He had already planned what dishes to buy for her when he returned. Instead, he bought a box of instant noodles and a can of milk from the inn's front desk, and slowly ate it like a vagabond on the steps.

Pulling out his phone to check the time, Wu Yiliu put it back when he saw it only had 18% battery.

He raised both hands, covering his face.

When his fingers touched the disguise on his face, he silently laughed at himself in his palm. If it weren't for the disguise, things might be better.

The noodle box emitted a spicy cabbage scent next to him. The temperature cooled down at night, and the cement ground chilled his pants and flesh. Behind him, the inn's front desk phone rang, and the shop owner's muffled conversation lasted a while.

That man had just walked down the street for the third time, this time forgetting to change his coat.

Wu Yiliu looked into the grimy glass door of the inn when he went to throw out the trash. The fat man who looked like the owner leaned over the counter. His chin rested on the higher front desk surface, his bulging white eyeballs unblinkingly on Wu Yiliu, like a giant sea cucumber with a human face.

Not long after Milan left, he found that he couldn't move.

In this city of seven or eight million people, he should be just a grain of sand in the desert among the vast crowd. So what if he spent all day asking around? What could his movements amount to in the hustle and bustle of so many people? Was he so noticeable that he became a target?

How could he have been found so quickly?

Now, returning to Professor Qiao's house was impossible.

He had nowhere to run, nor could he pretend not to notice the changes, hoping they would leave him alone—with his disguise stuck on his face. His only idea for self-rescue was to sit here until he couldn't; because the only person who could save him in this world was Milan, but he didn't know how to contact her.

All he could do was hope she would reappear suddenly, although he also knew this was more like a desperate attempt at luck than a self-rescue method. The longer he waited, the more elusive and shadowy this hope became.

However, the fact that these Changelings had not approached him was intriguing.

They had already found him, but why hadn't they infected him directly?

Thinking about it, Wu Yiliu could only think of one answer: Milan. Her contact with posthumans was the only thing that made him special. The Changelings—at least some of them—already knew about the existence of posthumans, so knowing that Milan was a posthuman was not surprising.

So, they must have known that Milan was a posthuman for a while, but they didn't know what they had just discussed, or whether she would come back, so they hadn't acted rashly. Ah, no wonder he was targeted so quickly; it turns out he wasn't the Changelings' target.