Absurd Nightmare

Then that mocking voice rang out again: "Seems you lot actually have some tricks up your sleeves."

The surrounding crimson mist began to churn, as if injected with new dye, swiftly replaced by a cold, viscous white fog.

Visibility plummeted—the thick white haze reduced sightlines to just two meters. Even when looking up, only a bleached, oppressive whiteness loomed overhead.

In the blink of an eye, the visibility shrank to within arm's reach. Though it was still daytime, a bone-deep chill seeped through clothing, and the suffocating fog made every breath feel labored.

"Don’t move recklessly!" Shouzhen’s steady voice cut through the mist like an anchor in a storm. "Gather to me!"

With a sharp flick of his horsetail whisk, its silver filaments carved a fierce arc through the air. A "whoosh" tore through the silence as the dense fog recoiled, splitting apart to reveal a temporary clearing.

Amid the whiteout, Liu Zheng stood and seized Old Bai’s arm with precision, swiftly pulling them both toward Shouzhen.

"Move. We’re leaving," Liu Zheng growled through clenched teeth. "This cursed place reeks of malice. I’ll have the military scorch this land when we get back."

Shouzhen muttered incantations while sweeping the whisk repeatedly, forcing the fog to retreat along their original path.

Yet overhead, the loudspeaker crackled to life again, that detestable voice oozing with feline amusement.

"You came looking for me, didn’t you? Why run now?"

Ahead, the undulating mist stirred as if kneaded by invisible hands. Several silhouettes gradually emerged, their outlines sharpening into clarity.

They were men clad in garish 90s attire—striped shirts paired with flared trousers—grotesquely out of place in this desolate wasteland.

Their faces appeared waterlogged, features smeared into indistinct blobs, save for the glint of cold metal from the pipes and machetes gripped in their hands.

Utterly silent, they lunged forward with unnatural speed.

Liu Zheng fired without hesitation.

The gunshot thudded dully. A scarlet tracer ripped through the fog, burying itself in the lead figure’s chest.

The man arched backward as if struck by a battering ram, his throat finally unleashing a guttural shriek that barely sounded human.

"Nice sound effects," Old Bai quipped, though his grip on the pistol remained rock-steady. Muzzle flashes punctuated the haze as each bullet found its mark, staggering the oncoming figures.

"What era do they think this is? Swaggering around with machetes—did they time-travel from a gangster flick?"

Just as they prepared to mop up these lackeys and press onward, the anomaly escalated.

A screech of grinding metal erupted from all directions, and the derelict amusement park abruptly shuddered to life.

The peeling horses on the carousel lurched up and down, accompanied by a discordant, broken rendition of Ode to Joy.

In the distance, dust-caked gondolas on the Ferris wheel flickered with eerie red lights, the entire structure creaking into motion with a sound like nails on chalkboard.

Every mechanized ride, as if suddenly plugged into a power grid, whirred and rattled to activation.

It defied logic—these relics, untouched for a decade, now operated as though freshly maintained.

Yet operate they did.

Next to the bumper car arena, thick crimson mists materialized out of thin air, swiftly enveloping the rusted vehicle shells.

The headlights flickered to life abruptly, tires screeching as they lifted off the ground, the cars lurching forward like frenzied beasts, charging recklessly toward the trio.

Liu Zheng swung his gun around, firing consecutive shots at the bumper cars.

Each bullet struck its target, dispersing the crimson mist shrouding the vehicles.

The bumper cars, now devoid of their eerie momentum, ground to a halt.

The effect was immediate, yet Liu Zheng’s brow furrowed deeper.

Ammo was running low—especially the bullets coated with black dog’s blood.

"Don’t waste time with this scrap metal!" Liu Zheng barked. "That old witch is trying to wear us down! Move!"

"Trying to leave?! After pushing me this far, you think you can just walk away?!"

The massive Ferris wheel shuddered violently at its peak, then, as if wrenched by an invisible hand, its central axis snapped. With a thunderous crash, the entire structure tore free from its frame.

Like a colossal rolling tire, the Ferris wheel hurtled toward the trio, poised to crush them into pulp.

"Run!" Shouzhen’s voice was hoarse with desperation.

Old Bai reacted faster, grabbing Liu Zheng by the collar and yanking him forward—less a lift, more a frantic drag. His explosive strength far surpassed that of an ordinary man, his heavy footfalls pounding against the stone pavement like muffled thunder. This was a race against death itself.

They had to try, at least.

Yet without warning, the ground beneath them buckled. Several stone tiles jutted upward violently.

Old Bai and Shouzhen, leading the charge, had no time to react. Their ankles twisted in pain, their bodies flung off balance.

All three tumbled face-first into the dirt, jaws slamming against the ground, mouths filling with the metallic tang of dust.

Shouzhen recovered quickly, rolling onto his back to look up.

The monstrous silhouette of the Ferris wheel now dominated his entire field of vision, its rapidly enlarging gondolas like the hammer of death, moments from crushing them.

He could even smell the rust and peeling paint.

Shouzhen barely managed to cross his arms in front of his face, squeezing his eyes shut—unable to bear the sight of his own impending doom.

Time seemed to freeze.

The expected earth-shattering impact, the agony of bones shattering—none of it came.

No sound, no tremor, not even a whisper of wind.

Three seconds... five... ten... The silence was suffocating.

Cautiously, Shouzhen cracked one eye open.

He lowered his arms slowly, scanning the empty sky above before glancing down at his companions.

Old Bai and Liu Zheng remained curled on the ground in textbook defensive postures, the sight almost pitiful in its absurdity.

"Brother Liu, Brother Bai... I think... we’re unharmed," Shouzhen croaked, his throat dry.

Liu Zheng flinched as if pricked by a needle, eyes snapping open. He attempted a kip-up, failed, and scrambled to his feet in a panic, gaze darting wildly.

The white mist was gone. The crimson mist—vanished too.

Most unsettling of all, the bumper cars that had charged at them earlier had disappeared without a trace.

Even the bodies of those they’d shot down were nowhere to be seen.

"What the hell just happened?!"

Old Bai was already upright, gun in hand, barrel slightly lowered as he swept his wary gaze over every inch of their surroundings.

He looked up and saw the Ferris wheel, which should have been crushed into scrap metal, now hanging intact in the air, perfectly still, as if everything that had just happened was nothing but a bizarre nightmare.

"Am I going mad? I clearly saw that Ferris wheel about to come crashing down."

Liu Zheng furrowed his brows. Everything that had occurred moments ago felt so real, yet now it seemed as though nothing had happened at all.

Then, he caught a faint, familiar scent in the air.

His head snapped up.

"It's him!"