Chapter 34 (2/2): I want to sleep in the bedroom

Once the puppet closed the door, countless writhing thin symbols burst from its eyes, rapidly covering the entire domain at an unfathomable speed.

If observed closely, these writhing black symbols resembled tiny black tentacles—only much smaller.

The twisted black symbols quickly engulfed the whole domain. The fog-covered space instantly darkened, becoming hollow and lifeless.

A moment later, the thick blackness flowed back into the puppet’s eyes.

The vast Nightmare domain was devoured clean.

“Not tasty.”

The puppet muttered unhappily, reopened the door, and saw Song Nanxing still waiting.

Seeing it come out, Song Nanxing naturally turned and started forward. “Let’s go. It’s only two o’clock. You should get a good rest.”

The puppet’s black hole eyes dilated slightly, clumsily stepping after him.

Time flowed differently inside the domain. Song Nanxing spent two or three days in the Nightmare, but only about an hour had passed outside.

He returned home, collapsing exhausted on the sofa, clutching the puppet rabbit.

The puppet rabbit mimicked him, stretching its short limbs and twitching its ears.

The little octopus and the puppet also drew close, snuggling against him.

After resting a while, Song Nanxing got up to shower. Wearing comfortable, soft pajamas, he glanced at the puppet rabbit on the sofa, picked it up, and returned to the bedroom.

He placed the puppet rabbit on the vacant pillow on the other side of the bed.

The little octopus, left outside the door, was instantly unhappy.

“I want to sleep in the bedroom.”

“I want to sleep in the bedroom.”

“I want to sleep in the bedroom.”

It muttered incessantly against the bedroom door, its tentacles tapping the door impatiently.

Song Nanxing hadn’t even lain down before the noise forced him to get up and open the door.

He saw the puppet crouching by the door, looking up at him, while the little octopus swiftly slipped in, swimming to his pillow. One tentacle even sneakily poked the puppet rabbit.

The puppet rabbit, displeased, swatted the tentacle with its ear.

Song Nanxing sighed and said, “Come in, then.”

The obedient puppet brightened, stood up, rubbed against Song Nanxing’s leg, and entered the bedroom.

Before climbing onto the bed, it carefully wiped itself clean with a wet wipe.

The master bedroom’s bed was a 1.8-meter-wide double bed. Song Nanxing took one side, and the puppet rabbit, the puppet, and the little octopus shared the other.

He glanced at his surprisingly well-behaved companions and warned, “No fighting, understand?”

The three obediently settled close to him.

Only then did Song Nanxing surrender to his overwhelming drowsiness and fall asleep.

Perhaps because he had just emerged from the Nightmare domain, he dreamed again.

In his dream, he was locked alone in a room. Song Cheng wasn’t home.

His mother quietly opened the door, her eyes gentle as she smiled at him, her brows arched kindly.

“Today is Xingxing’s birthday,” she said.

Surprised, he looked at her and asked eagerly, “Will there be a gift?”

His mother smiled more warmly, gently patting his head as she said softly, “Yes.”

From behind her back, she pulled out a white, fluffy puppet rabbit and placed it in his arms.

“I made this for you with my own hands. With it by your side, you’ll never be lonely.”

Song Nanxing marveled, hugging the puppet rabbit.

Because he had been unable to go outside for a long time, his body was thinner than other kids his age. The red-eyed, white-furred puppet rabbit was almost half his size.

Song Nanxing carefully rubbed his face against the puppet rabbit. Its short fur was as soft as he imagined. A sweet smile spread across his face.

“Thank you, Mom. I’ll take good care of it.”

The next morning, Jingyao came to visit.

She wore a dark green, traditional-style long dress. Her long curly hair was straightened, falling to her waist, and the vicious scar that had marred her face was gone. Her expression was relaxed, with an alluring charm in her eyes.

Song Yunqiao curled up in her arms, trembling for unknown reasons.

Song Nanxing glanced at Song Yunqiao and let her in. “Are your injuries healed?”

Jingyao said, “Almost.”

She followed Song Nanxing inside, surveying his two-bedroom apartment with some surprise—it looked completely normal, like the home of an ordinary human living a decent life.

The puppet from last night sat on a shelf, watching sideways, and the blue octopus floated in the fish tank.

Jingyao sat on the sofa, gently touching the puppet rabbit’s damaged ear.

“I came to thank you. You might also have some questions for me.”

Song Nanxing poured her some water, hesitating slightly as he asked, “Are all those things we experienced last night… really real?”

Mentioning the past, Jingyao’s face was free of gloom.

Her slender fingers lightly stroked the curly brown fur on Song Yunqiao’s back as she said softly, “Yesterday we encountered the Nightmare. He is a King-level God’s Chosen, extremely powerful and capable of expanding his domain. Inside his nightmare domain, the things you most painfully fear become nightmares that won’t dissipate. If you can’t break free, you will painfully drown in the past and chaos, eventually becoming nourishment for the Nightmare domain.”

She lowered her eyes, her red lips curling faintly in a smile. “If not for being dredged up by the Nightmare this time, I would have thought I’d completely forgotten that past. Didn’t expect to nearly drown in the gutter.”

Song Nanxing recalled what Jingyao had gone through in the dream, his expression moved.

“You escaped in the end.”

Jingyao nodded modestly. “Song Yunqiao reported to the Health Center at the time. I was indeed mentally contaminated and emotionally unstable, deemed dangerous, and taken into custody. The specifics are a blur, but the end result was I killed the medical staff guarding me and escaped Qingcheng.”

She held out her right hand, white and smooth as jade, fingers together, forming a sharp blade.

“Outside Qingcheng lay dangerous wastelands, but I didn’t know that then. I stumbled blindly into it, suffered greatly, but still managed to survive.”

Her tone was casual, no longer the fragile girl trapped and helpless in the dream.

Song Nanxing asked, “What’s this ‘Sotog Execution Order’ the Nightmare mentioned?”

Jingyao shrugged with a smile. “It’s probably some kind of cult. I joined it while wandering the wasteland—it’s called the Sotomi Order.”

“The Order had taken root in the wasteland for many years, absorbing many God’s Chosen like me who blindly wandered in. My abilities were decent, so the High Priest valued me, and I entered management. But later I had a falling out with the High Priest and left the Order.”

Jingyao curled her lips casually. “But the High Priest was narrow-minded and saw me as a traitor. Over the years, waves of God’s Chosen were sent to hunt me. I couldn’t bear it anymore and came to settle in Tong City.”

Among human cities, God’s Chosen were naturally shunned. She hid her identity to infiltrate the city, so the hunting had lessened considerably.

“Though occasionally, some reckless morsels show up,” Jingyao said. “The specimen you saw last time was one of them.”

Song Nanxing’s heart stirred, recalling the emblem on that specimen.

There was no better time to ask.

“Do you know where that emblem comes from?”

Jingyao looked at him knowingly, raising an eyebrow. “You’ve been curious about that specimen before. Have you seen that emblem before?”

Song Nanxing hesitated slightly, then nodded. “A frog-headed creature broke in on the third floor before. It had that mark.”

He deliberately omitted Song Cheng’s notes.

Jingyao didn’t seem to notice his concealment. She stared at him a moment and said, “I have that mark, too.”

She pulled down the strap of her long dress, revealing a branded mark on her back.

“In the Order, it’s called ‘Soto’s Glory.’ All God’s Chosen who join receive this mark.”

“Soto” was mentioned repeatedly. Song Nanxing asked, “Is Soto the god the Order worships? Like the Agussa cult?”

Jingyao hesitated slightly, uncertain. “I suppose so.”

Under Song Nanxing’s questioning gaze, she explained, “There are countless cult organizations in the wasteland, each with their own gods. The Sotomi Order is no different. Its followers worship the Flame Giant Judicator, Soto.”

“The doctrine states that at the end of days, the Flame Giant Soto will wield his flaming greatsword to slaughter the world’s gods and establish a new order.”

Jingyao continued, “But unlike other cults, whose gods exist regardless of strength, who answer prayers and grant miracles requiring various sacrifices, Soto has never responded.”

“I’ve searched through many records but found no trace of Soto.”

She even suspected whether the Flame Giant Soto was real.

*****

As Song Nanxing approached, he overheard someone complaining, “Why haven’t they announced the list of returnees? I already saw my husband on TV.” Their tone was anxious yet joyful.

Someone else said, “The online news said that after the pollution tests were done this morning, some missing persons in good condition with known addresses were released. But later, they said so many returned from the mist area—initial estimates were 400 or 500, but now over a thousand might have come back. The authorities are worried something’s wrong, so no more releases.”

“All are fine. What problems could there be…” a family member murmured.

Song Nanxing listened and approached the police officer maintaining order.

The officer, probably fatigued by repeated questioning, said as Song Nanxing neared, “Sorry, the information on missing persons who have returned isn’t fully compiled yet. The verified list will be released by six tomorrow evening at the latest. Some returnees are in poor mental state with confused memories, so their identities need further verification. Please be patient.”

Song Nanxing opened his photo album and turned his phone screen toward the officer.

“Have you seen a woman in a white dress at the shelter?”

The screen showed a fleeting side profile—a screenshot Song Nanxing had captured while searching video streams online.

The image was blurry, revealing only a woman in a white dress looking back, her face partially visible.

The officer waved a hand. “Too many people here. I can’t remember everyone. Please wait patiently for the list to be published. Don’t gather here.”

He looked slightly impatient.

Song Nanxing pocketed his phone and thanked him before moving to the tent where families waited.

The cramped tent was crowded, noisy, and heavy with damp air.

Song Nanxing and Shen Du stood at the tent’s edge, eyes scanning through the rain at the crowded tents, searching for Song Nanxing’s mother.

They stood in the cold rain for nearly three hours but found no sign.

Outside, the rain had lessened, but with night approaching, the temperature dropped sharply. Song Nanxing’s lips turned pale from the cold.

Shen Du draped his coat over Song Nanxing’s shoulders and suggested, “Let’s go back to the car and sit for a while.”

Song Nanxing shook his head and watched the police car slowly approach. “Someone’s coming.”

Several police cars stopped outside the shelter. Officers in protective suits got out and spoke quietly with the order-maintaining police.

After a moment, someone announced, “All returning missing persons will be temporarily transferred to Tong City University for shelter. Families, please return home and wait for further news.”