Translator: CKtalon
“131…” Lawton read the room’s door number.
As an Awakened who had explored the Mind Corridor’s depths, he had sufficient confidence in his strength. However, this didn’t mean that he would enter a new room without any scruples or worries.
This might belong to some New World powerhouse or a Kalendaria’s dream!
Even an Awakened at Lawton’s level could cause him to suffer if their price was a little stranger and their psychological trauma was broader in scope.
Lawton touched his increasingly deep wrinkles, composed himself, stretched out his right palm, twisted the brass handle, and opened Room 131.
He didn’t plan on going deep this time. He was prepared to observe from the edge of the dream or psychological trauma to understand the situation, prepared to leave at any moment.
As the vermilion door opened, Lawton took two steps forward.
The scene in front of him changed.
A corridor stretched to the end of his line of sight. The ceiling and sides were painted pure white, and the pungent smell of disinfectant filled the air.
Hospital? Lawton guessed based on his experience and knowledge. This increased his vigilance another notch.
A hospital in reality was already a place he didn’t like going. A hospital in the traumas of the Mind Corridor was even more terrifying.
Lawton tried to take another step forward.
At this moment, the rooms on both sides opened in unison. A person draped in a white bedsheet stood at each door.
Their entire bodies were enveloped by white bedsheets, and even their faces were hidden in the shadows brought about by the cloaks. The blackness exuded the feeling of a nightmare.
These people rushed out of the room, right for Lawton.
Lawton calmly snorted.
Just as he made the grunt, the strange people draped in white bedsheets fell to the ground as if they had instantly lost their lives.
Lawton didn’t advance rashly. He stopped in his tracks and observed these people to see if there would be any subsequent changes.
Suddenly, he lost all his strength.
His heartbeat gradually accelerated, and his forehead quickly heated up. He found it hard to breathe, and his nostrils were blocked as they burned.
I’m sick? The essence of this psychological trauma is the fear of being sick? The experienced Lawton came to a realization.
This was a relatively common psychological trauma that Lawton had experienced in several rooms.
If that were the case, he felt that this psychological trauma wasn’t a big problem. He would return to make preparations and try three to four more times before coming up with a suitable and effective plan.
At this moment, voices sounded in Lawton’s ears—who had become a little weak because of his illness.
“You’re sick.”
“You’re infected
“You have to be treated in quarantine.”
“Here’s an injection.”
“We’ve already prepared a stretcher and disinfectant.”
Lawton looked over and saw doctors and nurses in white coats rush over from the end of the corridor.
Some of them carried stretchers, some held syringes, and some carried bandages. All of them had the same face.
Yes, although these doctors and nurses wore masks, preventing Lawton from seeing what they looked like, he instinctively realized that they were essentially the same.
He then realized that the stretchers, the syringes, and the bandages had eyebrows that resembled those of the doctors and nurses.
They were bright and spirited.
“Don’t run!”
“You need immediate medical attention.”
“An injection will do.”
The discordant sounds echoed in Lawton’s mind, making his already sick forehead throb. He felt dizzy and seemed to be on the brink of fainting.
He was just about to attempt to deal with these monsters when he suddenly felt a sharp pain in his arm.
Lawton hurriedly turned his head and realized that his right arm had been given an injection.
The one administering the injection was the wall—the corridor’s wall! The wall also had eyebrows similar to that of doctors and nurses!
“Alright, you’ve been anesthetized,” said the wall.
Lawton immediately felt drowsiness surge through him in an unbearable manner.
He knew that something was amiss. He quickly took two steps back before collapsing.
With a thud, Lawton fell out of Room 131. He instantly became clear-headed and was no longer affected by the anesthesia, nor did he feel sick.
Lawton silently crawled up and stared at Room 131 in front of him. After a long time, he muttered to himself, “It’s very dangerous…”
1
In Swamp Ruin 1, Shang Jianyao woke up when it was almost noon.
“After we finish our meal, we’ll leave this place and go to the hydropower station, We’ll then search for Linhe Village along the river.” Jiang Baimian informed them of the subsequent plans.
Shang Jianyao nodded. “How long have you been awake?”
The two of them didn’t sleep until almost dawn. They were previously in charge of guarding the night.
“Not long ago,” Jiang Baimian replied in high spirits. “The main reason is that my biological clock hasn’t adapted to it, so I didn’t sleep well.”
Shang Jianyao tersely acknowledged it and looked at Long Yuehong and Bai Chen—who were busy preparing lunch. “Let me relieve myself first. In any case, I have nothing to do later. I’ll walk around the Mind Corridor and see if there are any changes to Master Zhuang’s room. I’ll see how 506 is during the
day and see if the surrounding rooms hide the New World’s door.”
Jiang Baimian thought for a moment and said, “Who knows what you’ll encounter next. There’s no need to incur more trouble in the exploration of the Mind Corridor. Yes, just take a look at the changes in Master Zhuang’s room.”
“Alright.” Shang Jianyao didn’t insist.
After a while, he returned to the living room and sat cross-legged on the ground. He leaned against the railing by the floor-to-ceiling window, massaged his temples, and fell asleep.
In the Mind Corridor, Shang Jianyao pushed open the vermilion door to Room 102 again.
He took a step in and saw a deep-blue sea that was almost black.
The sea was endless, and the sky was abnormally dark.
At this moment, the darkness moved, shifting into the distance.
It was actually a gigantic bird that blotted out the sky!
“Lame.” Shang Jianyao had already seen such scenes too many times and was sick of seeing them. Therefore, his expression was cold and indifferent.
He then left Room 102.
In the afternoon, the Old Task Force evacuated Swamp Ruin 1—the Old World’s Dajiang City—by car.
Right on the heels of that, they circled the city ruin and searched for the surging river. This took Jiang Baimian and the others two hours.
Finally, a wide river—even in winter—appeared in front of them. Further away, a towering hydropower station stood amidst a mountain stream.
“Search downstream first,” Jiang Baimian ordered.
Long Yuehong—who was in charge of driving—tersely acknowledged it.
After a few seconds, the previously silent him muttered to himself, “Why did the company hide the fact that Swamp Ruin 1 is in Dajiang City? There’s no way to hide this. Any Ruin Hunter who has entered this place might be able to get the answer.”
‘What he meant was that the company likely wasn’t deliberately hiding the matter from them but that there was a problem with the clearance.
“Maybe they don’t want us to know that the last Buddhist Holy Land is here too soon?” Bai Chen guessed.
“But we’ll know sooner or later,” the honest Shang Jianyao said.
Jiang Baimian guessed thoughtfully, “Trying to take advantage of a time lag? It’s been more than two years since Swamp Ruin 1 was discovered to this day. If the company really needs time, it’s enough to do anything…”
The four Old Task Force members were puzzled by Pangu Biology’s abnormality in this matter.
Even if Big Boss was the Arbiter of Fate, and she treated the company’s employees as livestock, that didn’t give them a reasonable explanation.
With these questions in mind, the Old Task Force discovered a village when it was almost dark.
This village’s building looked ancient. It was located in the bay and was hidden in the sun’s afterglow. But due to its location, the Old Task Force couldn’t see if there was an old pagoda tree at the other side of the village entrance.
“Is it here?” Jiang Baimian asked Shang Jianyao.
On the right side of the backseat, Shang Jianyao stuck his head out the window and carefully looked at it for a few seconds. “Maybe, perhaps, probably. In short, there’s some resemblance.”
“How careful.” Jiang Baimian gritted her teeth. She then said to Bai Chen, “Don’t be in a rush to enter the village. Circle to the other side.”
In any case, the focus was on the old pagoda tree.
Bai Chen—whose turn was to drive—nodded and drove the car through the wilderness outside the village.
At this moment, there was still some white snow, making the tires produce grinding sounds.
Shang Jianyao suddenly leaned forward and said to Long Yuehong in the passenger seat, “Speaking of the old pagoda tree reminds me of a ghost story.”
“Stop!” Jiang Baimian interrupted him.
Shang Jianyao immediately shut his mouth.
Before long, they arrived at the village entrance through an unpaved path.
A large pagoda tree stood there, swaying its grayish-brown, bald branches that were decorated with white snow with the wind.
“It’s gone bald,” Shang Jianyao pointed out.
“It’s winter.” Jiang Baimian rolled her eyes at him. “Is it the one you saw in Master Zhuang’s psychological trauma?”
“Very similar, but it doesn’t have any leaves.” Shang Jianyao didn’t dare to be ‘sure.’
Jiang Baimian exhaled and said to Bai Chen and Long Yuehong, “Stop the car. It should be here.”
The final Buddhist Holy Land..