Dimensional Hotel

The applause came out of nowhere, as though invisible spectators had suddenly crowded into the empty space, clapping and cheering for the marvelous performance on stage. Little Red Riding Hood went perfectly still for a moment, then blurted out, “Is this for real?!”

Yu Sheng looked just as puzzled. “I have no idea! I only suggested a plan and haven’t even started doing anything yet…”

Still, the applause did not cease. While Little Red Riding Hood and Yu Sheng stood there in confusion, it echoed across the entire museum, so strong that it felt like the room itself was shaking. Then everything began to change. The solid roof and walls cracked apart with a booming rumble. They dissolved into a set of clumsy stage props and painted backdrops before sinking away into darkness. The floor’s colors faded until only a dusty stage floor remained. Darkness rushed in from all directions, and with a series of sharp clicking sounds, spotlights descended from above, shining down and lighting up the stage and what looked like rows of seats.

The theater now stood revealed, brightened under these spotlights. Although the seats were empty, the sound of applause lingered for a few moments more, then slowly faded away.

Yu Sheng quickly glanced around to be sure everyone was still present, only to find Little Red Riding Hood giving him a very odd look.

“Um… I had this wild idea,” she began, “that if we caused a big enough stir, it might meet the ‘curtain call’ requirement. But I didn’t actually go through with it…”

“No, I think you may have really discovered how to satisfy the ‘Night at the Museum’ exit condition,” said Little Red Riding Hood, her eyes thoughtful. “Though I must say, it was quite an extreme solution. The rules of ‘Night at the Museum’ are woven together with this ‘theater’ as the means of exiting. To make the show end, you have to create a ‘deviation.’ The more events stray from the intended stage performance, the more likely you’ll trigger the curtain call. I suppose ‘threatening to blow up a bunch of fox tails inside a museum’ counts as a huge deviation—just saying it is probably beyond any normal script.”

Yu Sheng looked stunned. “So that’s how it works?”

“Who can say for sure?” Little Red Riding Hood shrugged. “The Otherworld is full of mysteries. Still, if that truly is the reason, it’s not exactly a method that others can copy easily. After all, not everyone has such an… unusual nine-tailed fox on their side.”

Yu Sheng reached over and patted the fur behind Foxy’s ears. Foxy happily narrowed her eyes and muttered, “I’m hungry,” before pulling a pancake from her tail and munching away.

“You did use a lot of energy today,” Yu Sheng said, suddenly remembering something. “Wait—since we made our exit so quickly, did you leave those tails you used to control the ‘security guards’ back in the white exhibit hall?”

“Nope, I’ve got them,” Foxy replied with a vigorous nod. “When the illusion vanished, the tails returned to me as spirit power.”

“That’s pretty handy,” said Yu Sheng, quite impressed.

“Let’s leave this place,” Little Red Riding Hood sighed softly, looking around at the theater still lit by mysterious light. “We’ll go back the way we came. Once we return to the ticket booth, the influence of ‘Night at the Museum’ will fully fade.”

“Got it,” Yu Sheng said, giving a brief glance to the “Weeper” sculpture in his hands.

By the rules of the museum, any object held during the curtain call—or the ending—could be taken out of the Otherworld safely. This sculpture would become his first trophy as a “novice Spirit Realm detective.”

It was surprisingly light, lighter than he’d expected. It didn’t feel like stone or any normal material. Instead, it seemed rather like skin, pale and stretched over something solid, carrying a faint warmth that made it seem disturbingly alive.

Under the spotlight’s glow, the sculpture—a weeping woman—gave off an eerie, unsettling aura. Yu Sheng couldn’t guess its “artistic value,” nor did he understand why the client wanted it. If it were up to him, he’d never put something like this in his own home.

They stepped off the stage, walking past the empty rows of seats and through the corridor they’d used to enter. Unknown lights continued to guide their way until they reached the old theater’s lobby. Little Red Riding Hood approached the dark ticket window and knocked on the glass. Suddenly, all the lights in the theater went out at once.

Yu Sheng noticed that the wolves traveling with Little Red Riding Hood had been sniffing around ever since they left the stage. Several still lingered near the ticket booth and the passage that led deeper into the theater. He asked, “What are they doing?”

“They’re checking if anyone else might still be here,” Little Red Riding Hood answered quietly. “The node here showed no alarms, but someone clearly got into the museum. They didn’t just appear out of thin air… unless there’s someone else who can ‘open doors’ to the Otherworld like you can.”

Yu Sheng waved his hand dismissively. “That seems unlikely. Even I trigger alarms when I open a door—it’s supposed to make a big fuss. And didn’t you say we should steer clear of angel cultists?”

“…True.” Little Red Riding Hood hesitated, then nodded. With that, the wolves quietly gathered around her and melted back into the darkness at her feet.

They left the theater through the main entrance, stepping into the city’s quiet night.

It was midnight now, the streets around them calm except for the distant sound of the occasional car passing by on the main road.

Little Red Riding Hood took the Weeper sculpture from Yu Sheng, then headed to a spot near the museum entrance where she had hidden her large backpack among some bushes. She carefully placed the sculpture inside.

“I’ll take this to the Association of Strange Objects and deliver it to the client,” she told Yu Sheng. “I’ll also ask a few contacts to check whether there’s anything suspicious about this job. You’ll receive your payment by tomorrow at the latest—Borderland Communications has a transfer feature. Just link it to your bank card, and you can withdraw the balance. Most Spirit Realm detectives and investigators use Borderland Communications for their deals. Offline payments aren’t protected by the Borderland Council, so if there’s a problem, you’re on your own.”

“Got it.” Yu Sheng nodded, though his thoughts seemed to be somewhere else. “About what happened in the white exhibit hall…”

“I’ll file a report. The Special Affairs Bureau will probably contact you for more information,” Little Red Riding Hood said casually. “They’ve got their eyes on you by now, so they’ll be very interested. They might invite you to help them with their investigation, or even share more details about the Dark Angel. But remember what I warned you: keep your distance from that entity. Many skilled investigators and Spirit Realm detectives have come to bad ends because of it…”

She paused, her expression turning somewhat odd, then shook her head. “Maybe I’m just overthinking. You’re not exactly ‘ordinary,’ after all.”

“Thanks for caring,” Yu Sheng said sincerely. He smiled and added, “I know I’ve said this before, but I really can’t help saying it again—you’re so good at looking after others.”

Little Red Riding Hood looked a bit flustered, as if she hadn’t noticed her own thoughtfulness until he pointed it out. “Uh, maybe it’s because lots of people in Fairy Tales are younger than me. I guess I’ve just gotten used to it?”

Yu Sheng nodded, genuine respect shining in his eyes, though Little Red Riding Hood didn’t seem to notice.

They parted ways at a crossroad not far from the museum. Little Red Riding Hood and her pack of wolves slipped back into the shadows, their phantom forms drifting through the darkness like a passing breeze and disappearing in an instant.

“…That’s pretty useful,” Yu Sheng said quietly as he watched her vanish. “It must be nice to move around so easily at night. Saves on cab fare too.”

He spoke lightly, but Foxy, standing nearby, lowered her head in shame. “I’m sorry, Benefactor. I make too much noise when I move around, so I can’t take everyone home like that…”n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

Yu Sheng quickly waved his hands, looking embarrassed. “No, no, it’s fine. It doesn’t bother me.”

“So, how are we getting back?” Irene asked, sounding curious. “Should we call a taxi? What if we get stuck with that Xu Jiali fellow again? I don’t want to ride in his car…”

“We’ll just open a door,” Yu Sheng answered simply.

Irene looked surprised. “But didn’t you say opening a door at night would trigger the Special Affairs Bureau’s alarms?”

Yu Sheng took out his phone. “We’re no longer inside the museum, so now we have a signal. I’ll just give them a call first, to warn them. That way, we won’t startle anyone.”

As he spoke, he pointed to his shoulder. Although the wound left by the giant wolf—when it had leaped out of Little Red Riding Hood’s shadow—had healed, his clothes were still stained with blood. Under the streetlights, it looked rather horrifying.

“Also, if we just called a regular taxi right now, and the driver saw me looking like this, they might be frightened out of their mind.”

He tapped the number Bai Li Qing had given him.

After a few rings, a tired-sounding voice answered, “Who is this?”

“It’s me, Yu Sheng,” he said quickly. “Um, sorry if I woke you…”

“…Yes, you did, but it’s all right,” Bai Li Qing replied, her voice as calm and unreadable as ever. “What do you need?”

Yu Sheng felt a bit uneasy. “I need to open a door, so I wanted to give the Special Affairs Bureau a heads-up. I didn’t know who else to call, so… I called you.”

There were two seconds of silence on the other end.

Yu Sheng couldn’t guess what Bai Li Qing might be thinking in that moment, but when she spoke again, her tone was unchanged. “Understood. I’ll notify the monitoring team to ignore the alarm for the next opening. You can open your door in about two minutes.”

Yu Sheng wiped a bit of cold sweat off his forehead. Even though Bai Li Qing remained calm, he couldn’t help feeling some pressure. “Thanks, and sorry again for bothering you. Good night.”

“…Good night.”

He hung up and let out a long breath into the quiet darkness.

Irene, perched on his shoulder, gave him a playful poke. “I bet she was cursing you silently in those two seconds.”

“You think so?” Yu Sheng asked, startled.

“It’s my spiritual intuition,” Irene declared proudly.

“Your spiritual intuition can do that?” he asked.

“Yep!” she replied.