Yu Sheng stared at the glowing words on his phone’s screen, feeling more puzzled than ever. The newest message came from someone calling themselves “Three Thousand Wicked Disciples,” and it mentioned something called the “Academy.” At first, the word seemed oddly familiar, like a half-forgotten name from an old dream. Then a memory drifted back to him. Bai Li Qing had casually spoken that name once before, and Yu Sheng also recalled stumbling across it earlier while sifting through some old files on his phone. Now, all the pieces were clicking together in his mind.
He remembered reading that the Academy was a grand organization settled far beyond the Borderland. Its main headquarters was located on a distant planet called Terra. According to the files, they spent their time handing down knowledge, uncovering ancient ruins, researching technology, and fighting against strange, ancient beings that threatened the sanity of mortals. It was said to be like a gigantic university, one that stretched across the cosmos. The people they sent out into the world were often known as “Professors.”
Yu Sheng thought it over. If the Academy was some kind of scholarly group interested in curious artifacts, then it made sense they might want the odd black metal device he’d recently found. After all, “Three Thousand Wicked Disciples” had hinted at exactly that.
But there was a serious problem. The Academy was famously secretive and hard to reach. They only dealt with other established groups, never random lone individuals. And Yu Sheng, very much a rookie in this odd business, had no idea where to begin. He knew next to no one in these circles. How was he supposed to find a Professor from the Academy just like that?
He chewed his lip, hesitating for a moment, before typing a reply to “Three Thousand Wicked Disciples”: “How can I contact the Academy? Do you have any leads?”
He waited, staring at the screen, but no new message popped up. It seemed that his mysterious informant had logged off right after sending their last hint. All Yu Sheng could do was sigh, tuck the phone back into his pocket, and turn his attention to the black metal artifact resting in his hand.
He turned it over carefully, peering at its engraved surface. There were markings, just as “Three Thousand Wicked Disciples” had mentioned—strange symbols he hadn’t even noticed before. They were carved deeply, which made them visible despite their worn condition. They were all curves and loops, unlike any writing he’d ever seen. The sight of them made him feel both curious and uneasy.
Just then, Yu Sheng felt his phone buzz again. He snatched it out, hoping that maybe “Three Thousand Wicked Disciples” had returned. To his surprise, it wasn’t them at all. Instead, an icon shaped like Little Red Riding Hood’s profile flashed in his private messages.
He opened it quickly. The message read: “I saw those pictures and what you said—tell me you didn’t find that weird thing inside your own house?!”
Yu Sheng typed back honestly: “Actually, I did. I just didn’t say so earlier because I didn’t want everyone to panic.”Her reply came swiftly: “Good thinking. That would’ve rattled people. But how did you come across it in your own home? Isn’t Wutong Road No. 66 your ‘territory’? Why on earth would something so unfamiliar just turn up there?”
Yu Sheng let out a soft sigh and answered: “My house is filled with strange things. I mean, that’s how I met Irene, too. Odd stuff just keeps appearing around here.”
At that very moment, a tiny figure butted him in the arm—his doll companion, Irene, looking quite annoyed. She glared at him and complained, “What do you mean by ‘random junk’? Are you calling me junk?!”
Yu Sheng patted Irene’s head absentmindedly, hoping to soothe her ruffled feelings. “I’m only being dramatic,” he said gently. “Don’t take it to heart.”
Once Irene seemed calm, Yu Sheng explained the whole story to Little Red Riding Hood, describing exactly how he’d discovered the strange metal device. In the end, he asked: “Have you ever seen anything like it?”
Her reply popped up quickly: “Artifacts appearing in the Otherworld aren’t unusual. But something from completely outside ending up in an Otherworld? That’s bizarre. Then again, maybe it’s part of Wutong Road No. 66 you just never noticed before. I don’t know enough about you or your house to say for sure. Anyway, that device is a mystery, but I suggest you don’t go asking everyone about it on the Borderland Network. You hardly have any solid clues, so asking around might not help. Besides, the Network is full of all sorts of shady characters who might trick you.”
Yu Sheng read these words carefully. Then another message arrived from Little Red Riding Hood:
“Just hold onto it for now. If you run into a collector of oddities, you might sell it for a nice sum. Keep an eye out—this device might be just one piece of something bigger. If something else like it appears, well, that could get interesting.”
Yu Sheng’s eyes brightened at the idea of money. He typed back: “You’re saying it could be worth something?!”
This time, Little Red Riding Hood took a bit longer to answer. When her next message came, it said: “Collectors do enjoy strange items, especially if they come from the Otherworld, and as long as they aren’t dangerous. If you can prove it’s genuinely from an Otherworld, you’ll be in luck.”
Yu Sheng frowned thoughtfully and asked: “How do I prove that? Are there people who do that kind of checking?”
Her reply: “The Special Affairs Bureau can certify items. So can big groups like the Academy, the Bamosa Hermit Society, or the Oddities and Antiquities Association. Their certificates are widely trusted. By the way, are you short on money?”
Yu Sheng felt a tiny flush of embarrassment. He glanced at Foxy, who was currently nibbling on a chicken leg that she seemed to have plucked out of her own tail. It was a sight so strange and yet so common around here that Yu Sheng barely blinked. He typed: “Well, I’m taking care of two others right now, and Foxy eats a lot. Plus, my personal work isn’t going so well…”
The reason was complicated. Lately, some of his fans had developed odd tastes because of his stories, causing him to doubt his writing direction. But he didn’t feel like explaining all that now.
Little Red Riding Hood’s next message ignored his personal problems: “Then try the Special Affairs Bureau. If they believe Wutong Road No. 66 is truly an Otherworld, they’ll give you a certificate without trouble.”
A smile tugged at Yu Sheng’s lips. If he could get money for this strange object, maybe he could finally buy Foxy all the meals she wanted and replace Irene’s old television with a nice new one. But as he stood there dreaming of profits, another idea hit him—an idea so bold and mischievous that it made his heart skip a beat. ȒᴀΝŏ฿ЁS
He typed eagerly: “Hang on—are you saying that anything I bring out from an Otherworld, as long as it’s safe, could be certified?!”
Little Red Riding Hood’s reply took half a minute this time: “Huh?”
Then, before Yu Sheng could type another word, a second message arrived: “Wait, I think I know what you’re plotting! Are you seriously thinking of selling off random junk from your Otherworldly home?!”
Yu Sheng couldn’t help but look around his living room. The old, peeling wallpaper… the odd furniture… even the dusty corners—everything suddenly seemed to shine with possibility. If the device was valuable, why not other strange objects?
But his phone buzzed again, and Little Red Riding Hood’s words came rushing in like a flood:
“Collectors have standards, you know! You can’t just bring them plastic slippers or empty cans and say, ‘Here, this is from the Otherworld!’ They want items with stories, rarity, and mystery. Don’t even think about selling them old newspapers or broken bottles! What kind of idea is that?!”
Yu Sheng blinked at his phone, surprised by her outburst. He could almost feel her shock through the screen. Far away, in a certain dormitory room at the edge of the Old City District, Little Red Riding Hood lay in bed, completely floored by Yu Sheng’s idea.
Someone else spoke in her room. “Still awake?” A young voice drifted down from the top bunk. A girl with long black hair peered over the edge, looking younger than Little Red Riding Hood, and caught sight of the Borderland Network interface on the phone.
“Anything interesting on the Network?” asked the girl. “Find a new job?”
“Not exactly,” said Little Red Riding Hood casually. “Just got totally stunned by something.”
“Shocked? Did someone post a streaking picture on the boards?” teased the girl, leaning closer.
Little Red Riding Hood didn’t bother to glance up. “Nope. Someone from an Otherworld wants to sell off all their household junk. And they’re serious about it.”
The long-haired girl above slipped in surprise, nearly falling off the bunk. Her long hair caught on the bed frame, leaving her dangling halfway down, swaying like a ghost next to Little Red Riding Hood’s bed. “This… this sounds like some kind of strange horror story,” she said softly, hair tangled and making her look quite eerie.
“Long Hair, can you not hang there like a creepy spirit?” Little Red Riding Hood said, glaring up at her roommate’s ghostly appearance. If someone walked in right now, they’d probably scream. “I’m not joking. Think about it. There’s an Otherworld, and someone living in it just like a human, who can come and go at will. They’re even recognized legally in the human world. Doesn’t that mean…”
The dangling girl thought for a moment, her eyes wide. “I see what you mean. That guy you’re talking to… Oh no, he’s really found a loophole!”
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