Chapter 636: Illusory Reality
Roland descended more than a dozen floors. When he stopped and let his muscles go slack, the soreness hit—deep and specific, the kind that only comes from stairs.
No elevators in an old building like this. Even knowing it was a dream, he felt a distant gratitude that he hadn’t appeared on the twenty-second floor.
He turned the problem over as he walked.
Zero must have built this place—that much was obvious. But the motive made no sense. No sane retaliation against Roland would look like this: an immense apartment complex, filled with people Zero had absorbed over two centuries, and Zero herself turned into a twelve-year-old girl who made breakfast and worried about grocery money. If this was revenge, it had backfired completely.
She had stripped herself of her memories as a pure witch. She had become fragile, domestic, unable to fight back.
Why would she go to this effort just to let me watch her lose?
He thought through it carefully. The apartment was Zero’s record, her archaeology—every person she had consumed, encoded into a tube-shaped building of impossible dimensions. But the city beyond it, the skyline of towers and the stream of modern traffic, clearly wasn’t hers. That was his. His memories, projected outward, giving this borrowed world its shape.
Which meant Zero’s design had met Roland’s mind and produced something neither of them had intended.
She had tried to trap him here. The dream was supposed to be his prison.
Instead, he was a visitor who could leave whenever he chose—and she had become one of the residents.
That was a more likely account.
What about me?
He knew he didn’t belong here—not in the tower, not as one of the absorbed. His memory was intact and ordered. He understood this was a dream, and he could exit any time. Those were not characteristics of someone who’d been swallowed.
What he didn’t know yet was how much of the dream was real, in the sense of containing things he didn’t already know.
Was it substance or shell?
Back in room 0825, he moved through it methodically.
Three bedrooms and one living room, no terrace—standard layout. His bedroom, Zero’s bedroom, and a storage room packed with the large, useless objects of accumulated time: a bicycle with no wheels, an old sewing machine, a gate with rust flaking from its hinges. Nothing worth anything.
He went to Zero’s room.
No unauthorized entry, the sign on her door read.
He opened it.
The scent that reached him was faint—mild and oddly pleasant. He stepped inside. Everything in the room was folded, organized, neat to the point of deliberateness. Blanket squared at the corners. Desk cleared. Floor spotless.
In the corner of the desk, a small pink diary caught his eye.
A diary.
He felt no compunction about this whatsoever. He was in a dream, reading the memory of a person who had tried to destroy his mind. He picked it up.
There was a plastic lock on the spine—the kind that exists for emotional comfort rather than security. He found two toothpicks, worked them into the keyhole, and had it open in under a minute.
The handwriting was cramped but careful. No corrections, no blots. She had meant every word.
February 16th. Due to school relocation, I’ve been placed with a house-owner in an unfamiliar city. His name is Roland. He’s a somewhat untidy uncle. He works at a bar, sleeps during the day, leaves at night, and comes back smelling of alcohol. I don’t want to be here. But my family said the rent is minimal and meals are included, and they’ll send me to the countryside if I complain again.
Roland’s mouth tightened. He’d been to a bar a handful of times in his life. But internal consistency wasn’t the dream’s strong point—this version of him had a background shaped by fragments of his memory, stitched together into whatever fit the scene.
February 27th. School started. Uncle Roland seems to have lost his job. He looks very depraved. Last night’s dinner was instant noodles I bought myself.
March 2nd. I’ve spent my whole allowance on noodles. The magazine says twelve is a critical growth period. I have to say something. If he gets angry, I’ll endure it. The countryside is worse.
March 3rd. He agreed. Every month he’ll give me a living stipend to buy proper food. I’ll cook if I’m not in school. Who is taking care of whom here? I should probably be paid for this. But I’m used to doing chores. Fine.
June 8th. Three months since I arrived. I’ve made friends. My grades are the best in the class. Uncle Roland is careless and untidy, but he isn’t bad. At least he doesn’t hit me. The problem is he still hasn’t found work. We can’t survive on his family’s remittances alone. I have to think of something.
June 22nd. Earning money is harder than I thought. I sold some illustrations to classmates at the tutoring center and made fifteen yuan. That’s barely two days of food. Did I say something too harsh to uncle? He’s still an adult. I feel like I’ve been rude. But I couldn’t stop myself. Maybe this is my rebellious phase.
June 25th. I was so frightened today. I came home to find Uncle Roland balanced on a stack of chairs reaching the ceiling. He fell when he saw me. The sofa was right there—he didn’t get hurt. But why would he stack chairs that high? Was he trying to—? I should ask him tomorrow.
Roland spent half an hour reading to the end. He now understood the structure. The dream assigned everyone a modern identity, with a background coherent enough to sustain the illusion. Zero had been placed as his ward. A middle school student, boarding with a careless uncle, doing the cooking, managing the money, going to tutoring on summer weekdays.
The architecture of it was extraordinary. Far more complex than anything he could have generated himself. No wonder the soul-duel had kept him comatose for nearly two months—the processing cost must have been immense.
He returned the diary to its corner and looked at the books stacked beside the desk.
Textbooks.
He picked up the top one. Literature. Next—social studies. He picked up the third, and went still.
An eighth-grade chemistry textbook.
Simple, accessible, filled with diagrams. The kind of book that showed you what a molecule looked like before it explained why. He turned to the back cover and a folded sheet slid out, fluttering to the floor.
He picked it up and unfolded it.
A complete periodic table of elements.
Every element, every atomic number and mass, arranged across the full expanse of the page—including the rows he had never been able to recall from memory.
Chapter 636: Illusory Reality
Translator: TransN Editor: TransN
Roland climbed more than a dozen floors all at once. When he relaxed his muscles, he felt the intense soreness in his legs.
There were no elevators in this old building. Even if this was only a dream, Roland still felt fortunate that he did not appear on the top floor.
Undoubtedly, Zero must be the one that created this, but this would not only be the act of Zero. No one would retaliate against Roland by using this kind of method.
Why would she spend so much effort to create such a bizarre dream, just to let me witness her failure? This not only took away her memory as a pure witch but also turned her into a fragile middle schooler.
At that moment, many evil ideas flashed through Roland’s mind.
With Zero’s current status, she would not be able to fight back no matter what Roland did to her.
Would this count as retaliation?
It could be only said that at this moment, Zero indeed did something which created an irreversible twist of memory. However, the final result was something that was far from what she expected.
If this gigantic tube-shaped apartment was the honest reflection of Zero’s memory, this was merely just an apartment.
Far away, there was a multitude of skyscrapers, swarms of cars and pedestrians on the street. Apparently this belonged to Roland’s memory, a
soul that came from the modern world.
Zero and those she engulfed appeared in this dream as modern people. This testified that her scheme was a failure.
That would be a more reasonable speculation.
“What about myself then?”
Roland was pondering this question as he slowly walked down the stairs.
He did not belong here, or at least, he did not belong to this loser tower. One obvious characteristic was that his memory remained intact, and he knew that this was a dream and that he could leave this place anytime he willed it.
Of course, next he had to make a more convenient falling tool, and then go back to the sofa to hit his head. This time Roland could still feel a slight pain which means that the authenticity of the dream could already compare to reality.
That being the case, which step can be done to a greater degree?
Is it encompassing or is it an empty shell?
…
Roland returned to room 0825 and once again examined the residence.
It had a standard layout of three bedrooms and one living room with no terrace. The three single rooms were Roland’s bedroom, Zero’s bedroom, and one storage room respectively. There were big objects in the storage room. For example, there was an old bicycle without wheels, a sewing machine, and a rusted iron gate. They would not even be worth any money for recycling.
Next, he walked to Zero’s bedroom. There was a sign on the door that said, “No unauthorized entry”.
Such a caveat was nothing in Roland’s eyes.
He pushed open the door without hesitation. A slight but pleasant scent floated into his nose.
It was a tiny room with all the furniture neatly organized. All the blankets were folded, the desk was neat, and the floor was spotlessly clean.
Roland walked around. An anime dairy on the corner of the desk soon caught his attention.
Has she the habit of keeping a diary?
This would be a great opportunity to learn about Zero’s past experiences.
There was no emotional pressure on Roland in regards to taking a peek at a little girl’s diary in a dream.
Roland picked up the pink book and found that there was a plastic lock on the side of the diary.
However, that would be not enough to stump Roland.
The plastic lock merely served as emotional comfort for kids. It would not actually prevent someone from peeping at the diary. Roland found two toothpicks, stuck the toothpicks into the keyhole and moved the toothpicks back and forth. He opened the plastic lock after only a few tries.
Roland flipped to the first page. The handwriting on the page seemed immature, but there were rarely any ink dots or whiteouts. Apparently, she was very serious when she wrote the diary.
“February 16th, due to the relocation of school, I’ve been sent to a house in an unfamiliar city. The house-owner is called Roland, a somewhat untidy uncle. He works at a bar and always sleeps during the day, leaves the house at night, and comes back very late at night. He always has this disgusting smell of alcohol on him.” “I don’t really want to live here. But my family said that he only asks the minimum rent and provides meals. My family will send me to the countryside if I make another complaint about this house.”
“What kind of absurd setting is this?” Roland could not help but seethe. He went to a bar only a few times in his life, not to mention working at a bar. Despite such absurdness, the dream itself was an unreasonable place that often connected numerous unrelated fragments, and no one would notice any difference in the dream.
With that thought, Roland did not feel like fretting over this dream anymore.
“February 27th, school has started. Uncle Roland seems to have lost his job. He looks very depraved. Dinner yesterday was a cup noodle that I bought.”
“March 2nd, I’ve spent all my allowance buying cup noodles recently. This isn’t a good sign. The magazine said that at age 12, the body is developing and so there needs to be enough nutrition for growth. I have to talk to uncle. If he beats me up then, I, I’ll endure a bit more. I’d rather not go to the countryside.”
“March 3rd, he agreed with my suggestion. That’s great! Every month he would give me living expenses to buy fresh food. But if I’m not in school, I’ll be responsible for making the meals. Who is taking care of whom? I feel like he should give me a salary for this. Never mind, I always do the chores back at home too. I’m used to it.”
“June 8th, it has been three months since I arrived in the new city. I’ve made lots of friends. I have the best grades in my class. Although Uncle Roland is untidy and always seems careless, he’s actually not a bad guy. At least he doesn’t beat me. The only thing is that he still hasn’t found a job yet. Looks like he’s giving up soon and that isn’t a good sign. We wouldn’t be able to survive just depending on the living expense that Uncle Roland’s family sends to him. I have to help him.”
“June 22nd, umm… It’s so difficult to make money. I sold some anime drawings to students in tutoring class and only got 15 yuan. That isn’t even enough to buy two days of food. Am I too careless when I speak to uncle? In the end, he’s still an adult. I feel like I’ve been impolite, but I just couldn’t control myself. Have I reached my rebellious phase?”
“June 25th, Jesus Christ! I was so frightened today. I saw that Uncle Roland fell from a chair. Good thing that there was a sofa beneath him. Putting the chair that high, was he committing suicide? This was so frustrating. What if he injured himself? That would make him less likely to get a job! Whatever, tomorrow I’ll ask him what happened.”
Besides the trivial details, Roland spent only half an hour to finish the whole diary. He now understood the reason that Zero had been living with him.
The dream made up backgrounds for everyone that matched with his or her modern identity. This was undoubtedly a very complex structure. He would not be able to accomplish this just by using his brain. No wonder he was in a coma for almost two months after the soul dual.
He put the diary back to the original place. Roland noticed something that made dazed him for a moment.
There was a stack of books next to the desk. It seemed to be that little girl’s textbooks.
Roland swallowed and moved all the textbooks to him.
The first textbook was a literature book and the second was a social science textbook. When Roland saw the third textbook, he was out of breath for a moment.
It was an 8th-grade chemistry textbook.
Its content was simple with only a few words. The majority of the book was pictures. From a glance, it almost looked like the book I Wonder Why . When Roland flipped to the last page, a folded long page fell out.
Roland flattened the page, a complete periodic table of elements appeared before his eyes.