Dimensional Hotel

Chapter 94: The Security Guards

Yet, when he remembered the valley they had passed through not long ago, he began to see how Little Red Riding Hood’s words had held some truth. The “Museum” might be strange—even downright creepy—but it at least had a set of rules. As long as one followed those rules, one could avoid unnecessary harm. Compared to that, the valley had featured an Entity that hunted people no matter what they did, and lethal dangers had been scattered throughout the Otherworld. In that sense, the Museum, however unnerving, was indeed the lesser evil.

The difference between a Danger Level Two and a Danger Level Three place was crucial. At Danger Level Two, you had a fighting chance if you stuck to the rules. At Danger Level Three and above, no amount of obedience could guarantee your survival. In those realms, terrifying threats appeared constant and unavoidable.

“Remember, the object we’re looking for is called ‘The Weeper,’” whispered Little Red Riding Hood as she carefully scanned the corridor ahead. She kept her voice low, her eyes narrowed as she searched the dimly lit halls. “It’s a small statue, somewhere between fifteen and twenty-five centimeters tall. It shows a woman crying, her face hidden by her hands. It’s just a half-figure, with a sort of hollowed-out back and lines that look a bit abstract. Usually, it’s displayed alone in a white hall, and there shouldn’t be any guards around it. Once we find that hall, it shouldn’t be hard to grab the statue.”

Yu Sheng trailed close beside her, his eyes drifting over the Museum’s odd exhibits and winding passages. He asked quietly, “I have a question. What does the Association of Strange Objects want with this statue?”

Little Red Riding Hood shrugged without turning her head, “Who knows? Maybe some wealthy collector offered them a mountain of money, and they hired people like us to fetch it. Or maybe the Association wants it for their own research purposes.” She paused, then continued, “You see, the ‘Museum’ is one of those rare Otherworlds that keep ‘producing’ new things. Many of its creations are artistic—well, I don’t really ‘get’ art, but I do know that rich collectors go crazy over harmless items from here. Besides art, you’ll find odd artifacts and strange mechanical displays that seem to hint at some imaginary civilization. Scholars think these objects are valuable for studying Otherworld logic, so they try to collect them too.”

Yu Sheng nodded thoughtfully, then glanced back over his shoulder at the path they had taken. Little Red Riding Hood noticed this and asked softly, “What’s on your mind?”

“I’m thinking about the ‘stage’ we encountered, the invisible audience applauding, and the ticket booth,” Yu Sheng said. He spoke slowly, as if choosing his words with care. “They’re all pretty strange, obviously some sort of anomalous phenomena. Shouldn’t the entire ‘Theater’ count as an Otherworld? I mean, ‘Night at the Museum’ seems to be just one part of it.”

Little Red Riding Hood gave him a cunning smile, “Ah, you’ve caught on to something important. The Theater is indeed at the core of everything happening here. But it isn’t a complete Otherworld on its own—it’s more like a gateway. A true Otherworld must have its own complete structure of space and time, as well as its own set of rules. The rules we have inside the ‘Museum’ don’t apply in the Theater. So they can’t be considered the same place. And…”

She stopped walking and turned halfway towards Yu Sheng, leaning in as if to share a secret. “I’ll tell you another little secret: The Theater’s ‘entrance’ doesn’t lead only to the Museum.”

Yu Sheng raised his eyebrow. “It doesn’t just lead to the Museum?”

“Exactly,” said Little Red Riding Hood, tapping a finger lightly against her lips. “When the sun goes down, the Theater’s stage leads you to this ‘Night at the Museum.’ But when the sun is up, a different ticket booth opens, and that daytime performance takes you into something called ‘Manor Mystery.’ That place is even more dangerous. There’s a ‘Suspect Zero’ inside who actively hunts down anyone who enters, and it’s incredibly powerful.”

Yu Sheng’s curiosity flared, “How does it compare to ‘Hunger’?”

“It’s not as mighty as Hunger—especially after Hunger was affected by the Dark Angel—but it’s still strange and unpredictable. I’ve never faced it personally, so I can’t say exactly how frightening it is,” she answered quietly.

“Oh,” said Yu Sheng, accepting this for now.

They continued onward, Yu Sheng eagerly soaking up every piece of information she shared about these Otherworlds. Irene, perched silently on his shoulder, listened intently without uttering a single word. Foxy, on the other hand, was constantly scanning their surroundings, her furry ears flicking and twisting at the slightest noise. Every now and then, she would clutch at Yu Sheng’s sleeve, nervous and alert.

“Benefactor,” Foxy whispered suddenly, tugging on Yu Sheng’s sleeve and pointing ahead. “I hear something. There’s a sound coming from that painting over there.”

Yu Sheng and Little Red Riding Hood froze instantly. They strained their ears and sure enough, they caught the faint sound of ragged breathing drifting from a painting on the wall ahead.

The painting showed a lion with a sword stabbed straight into its forehead. At the edge of the canvas, a hand wearing a metal gauntlet was visible, as if it had just thrown the sword. The breathing sound grew heavier and clearer the longer they listened, as if the unseen sword-thrower stood hidden just beyond the painting’s frame, panting from the effort of felling the beast.

“Stick close to the wall,” Little Red Riding Hood murmured, barely moving her lips. “Avoid that painting.” She guided them along the very edge of the hallway, making sure they stayed as far from the painting as possible.

As they skirted the painting, the strange breathing slowly faded away.

Soon, they reached a corridor lined with doors. Yu Sheng stepped forward and cautiously opened one. He peered inside and reported simply, “Red Room.” The room beyond glowed with a crimson light.

Little Red Riding Hood frowned slightly. “Skip that. Let’s try the next one.”

Yu Sheng nodded and moved a few steps further. He opened the next door, and behind it lay a wide, empty hall bathed in a calm, sky-blue light. It was well-lit, and near the entrance stood a small plaque. Engraved on it were the words: “The Exhibit: ‘My Friend and My Endless Wealth,’ by Chuang Fang.”

Below it was a commentary that read: “This piece evokes deep sadness, filled with the creator’s lifetime reflections and insights.”

Yu Sheng studied the plaque for a moment and then looked back at Little Red Riding Hood. “This Museum certainly has a sense of humor, doesn’t it?” he remarked dryly.

Little Red Riding Hood shook her head slowly. “It’s not humor in the normal sense. It comes from the people it once ‘devoured.’ Their so-called ‘final works’ often feel strange, absurd, and self-mocking. Nobody knows what these creators were thinking when they left these pieces behind—if they were even thinking rationally at all. The Museum doesn’t truly think like a human. It just clumsily imitates human creations and runs according to its own twisted rules.”

She gazed across the hall to a door on the far side. “Let’s move on. The rooms and corridors often repeat themselves, and the layout changes randomly every time we come here. Memorizing the route is pointless. But the space is finite, and if we keep going forward, we should eventually reach the hall where ‘The Weeper’ is displayed—assuming luck is on our side.”

Yu Sheng nodded, taking Foxy’s hand and stepping carefully across the hall.

They had crossed about halfway when they heard it—stiff, hollow-sounding footsteps echoing from the corridor opposite them. Yu Sheng came to an abrupt halt. In the next instant, several unsteady figures stumbled into view.

They were mannequins dressed in security guard uniforms. Their faces, molded from plastic, were blank and unsettling. They moved with a jerky awkwardness, as if puppets on tangled strings. Yet, as bizarre as they looked, they advanced with purpose, emerging from the corridor on the other side.

Foxy’s ears flattened, and her tail puffed up in alarm.

“Security guards!” Little Red Riding Hood hissed, eyes widening. “Why are they appearing now…?”

She steadied herself and pressed close to Yu Sheng. Her voice dropped even lower, “Don’t run. Don’t make any suspicious moves. The guards are hostile Entities, but they follow rules. We haven’t broken any rules since we got here, so they shouldn’t attack—”

Before she could finish, one of the plastic guards lifted its hand abruptly. It formed a shape like it was blowing a whistle—though no real lips moved. The next second, a shrill, piercing whistle sound cut through the air!

Instantly, all the mannequin guards sprang into action, bolting towards Yu Sheng and the others with alarming speed and force.

“Oh, crap!” Yu Sheng gasped. He barely had time to react before he leaped to one side. As he landed, he kicked out at one of the plastic guards. His foot collided with the mannequin’s torso, producing a loud metallic clang.

The guard split in half at the waist, but Yu Sheng winced, feeling pain shoot up his leg. “They’re tough! It’s like kicking solid stone!” he shouted.

Almost at the same time, thin black threads erupted from the small doll—Irene—who sat perched on his shoulder. Those dark strands coiled around another mannequin guard, lifting it into the air and holding it fast.

Seeing the mannequin immobilized, Foxy sprang with a snarl and tore the suspended guard apart, scattering pieces of it across the floor. She even flung its head away with a swish of her tail.

But before they could celebrate, the pieces of that torn mannequin started to twitch and shudder on the ground. The fragments squirmed toward each other and swiftly reassembled into a whole guard once more, which promptly lunged forward again as if nothing had happened.

More footsteps echoed from the corridor behind them, and Yu Sheng caught sight of additional staggering figures looming at the far edge of his vision.