Chapter 38 White Hole Prison (15)

Chapter 38: White Hole Prison (Fifteen)

The surroundings were eerily silent; often, it's the unknown that is most terrifying.

Shi Wu's eyes were still blindfolded, but he gradually felt the hard ground beneath his feet soften, as if he were stepping on grass after a heavy rain, the whole area having turned swampy.

If he didn't keep moving, Shi Wu was bound to sink.

Just as Shi Wu was about to be unable to continue, Bao Yan's footsteps ahead suddenly stopped.

"We're here."

Bao Yan's voice was flat, almost devoid of any emotional fluctuation.

The next second, the black cloth covering Shi Wu's eyes was ripped off.

However, light did not flood in as he had expected.

The surroundings remained an endless expanse of darkness.

"..."

Shi Wu blinked once, then blinked again, doubting his own senses.

"Did you forget to take the cloth off?"

"It's off," Bao Yan said indifferently. "Don't forget, you're already inside the 'dark room' now."

Shi Wu: ?

Damn.

So, the "dark room" truly lived up to its name—literally a "dark room."

Shi Wu tried to observe his surroundings, but the darkness here was not ordinary; it wasn't the darkness of night but a kind of light-absorbing blackness.

He then tried to listen, but aside from his faint breathing, there was nothing.

"You—" Shi Wu's words abruptly stopped as he realized Bao Yan had already left—a subtle yet certain perception.

This dark world was now completely devoid of all but him.

There was nothing here—no light, no sound, no sensation of moving air.

There no longer seemed to be any "ground" beneath his feet. Shi Wu tried taking a heavy step forward, but the sound of his footsteps was instantly swallowed, as if it had never existed. He couldn't hear the landing or feel any resistance.

It was as if this place existed outside the world, leaving only him—a living person seemingly suspended in a void.

Shi Wu let out a soft sigh, the lingering sound fading into his bones and spreading through his body.

Truly worthy of the "dark room"! Shi Wu thought.

In such a place of complete silence, an ordinary person's first sensation would likely be a feeling of "oppression."

That overwhelming, hollow emptiness pressed down, as if some vast, unknown presence was slowly approaching. It had no body, no scent, not even a shape.

But you somehow knew of its existence. It was watching you, probing your very edges, yet remaining completely untouchable.

Then, the auditory hallucinations would begin.

At first, your brain would struggle to adapt to the silence, so you'd start hearing your own breathing, then your heartbeat, and finally the sound of blood pumping through your veins...

Next would come the encircling footsteps, sometimes distant, sometimes close, as if something was walking around you. You'd instinctively reach out to grab whatever was there, only to grasp nothing but darkness.

Finally, it would turn into whispers in your ear—clear voices, yet unfortunately, you couldn't understand them. Your brain seemed to be overloaded; you could sense them laughing, crying, clamoring, gloating. Gradually, it would morph into sharp tinnitus, the buzzing of mosquitoes by your ear, or the static of an old radio tuning into a signal.

Even worse were the hallucinations.

Suddenly, you'd feel a light tap on your shoulder, or a finger gently poking your back from behind.

You knew—you should know—that you were alone here, but you couldn't help turning around, only to find nothing but darkness.

Then your brain would start working, as people instinctively seek to explain the inexplicable. Your brain would begin to deceive you, your thoughts would run wild, your heart pounding wildly.

Imagine—what if there was a "person" standing right there? What if they were crawling toward you on all fours? What if they were right beneath your feet, their head twisted almost 180 degrees, right under you? Smiling with a split mouth, right under you? Just staring at you?

Why don't you look down? Why not look down and see them smiling at you?

In such a space, your mind would autonomously construct an enemy for you.

So you'd despair, scream, then cry and shout. Finding that crying and screaming were useless, you'd grow furious, perhaps cursing with the most venomous words in the world. Your fists would clench until your palms turned red, and you'd punch the surroundings again and again, only to hit nothing but emptiness. Finally, you'd turn your fists on yourself, beating yourself until bloodied, then burst into hysterical laughter.

Or perhaps, in the end, you'd truly come to your senses, only to be engulfed by despair once more, because there was nothing around you, and beneath your feet, someone was still smiling at you.

You couldn't tell how much time had passed. You could only sink, slowly, like a twisted drowning victim, struggling into nothingness. And you'd still think—there really is someone beneath my feet, smiling at me.

So you'd slowly crouch down, lift their head, and caress that smile stretching to the corners of their eyes. And then, you'd smile too.

*

The "dark room" of White Hole Prison was perhaps designed precisely to drive people mad.

Fortunately, Shi Wu was no ordinary person.

"Do-Re-Mi-Fa-Sol-La-Si."

Shi Wu slowly walked through the silence, as if strolling through his backyard garden, squinting to enjoy the beautiful afternoon sunlight, even humming a little tune with idle amusement.

"Hey!" Shi Wu lay down on the ground, thinking that this ink-black place was perfect for a good nap.

Time passed slowly, but Shi Wu found it difficult to perceive accurately. His mind, however, grew increasingly clear.

Shi Wu sat up, clearly getting impatient. Such a great place was being wasted.

He remembered that as a child, he was often locked in dark rooms.

Back then, his mother and father had terrible tempers. Sometimes, when they were both drunk, they'd shove him into a pitch-black storage room and lock him in—usually for a full day, but there were several times he was locked in for days on end.

When he came out, he was nearly starved to death.

In the darkness, he learned many things.

How to tell if someone's footsteps were approaching? How to tell if a pipe's sound was natural or someone was tapping on it? And how, before fear drove him mad, to suppress himself in various ways.

Such experiences have extreme effects on people.

Some, as adults, develop conditions—like claustrophobia, noise sensitivity, PTSD, and so on.

The rest are the complete opposite; they sever this "sensory nerve" entirely, no longer perceiving darkness.

Shi Wu was the latter, but this wasn't "resilience." Rather, when people encounter unbearable harm, the brain learns a way to cope: it shuts down the "reactions" that cause you pain.

So in this endless void, Shi Wu didn't go mad, nor did he break down.

He even found a moment to think: It would be nice if there was an air conditioner here, maybe even a galactic net, so he could go online, enjoy a breeze—wouldn't that be nice?

But unfortunately, there was nothing.

Shi Wu had no choice but to lie back down and went back to humming his off-key tune, much like when he was a kid curled up in the storage room, surrounded by his mother's sobs, his father's curses, and a whole other world just on the other side of the wall from their home.

—“Welcome back next time, sir!”

—“If you don't quiet down, I'll disown you.”

—“Who wants a child like you?”

“...”

Shi Wu’s humming was almost never in tune, but it was a rhythm all his own.

Belonging to a madman who could find his own wavelength even in the void.

“Since I've got nothing better to do,” Shi Wu tilted his head, his eyes sharply fixed on a patch of darkness, “why don't you come out and talk?”

No response.

But Shi Wu's mouth suddenly quirked up: “This is so boring—come out and play with me!”

And in this darkness, there really did seem to be something lurking in the distance, waiting for an opportunity.

Shi Wu smiled, continuing to hum, continuing to wait.

Until some creature really slithered over slowly from afar.

A small, sticky, unidentifiable blob crept silently along the ground beside Shi Wu.

What the hell is this?

Shi Wu’s brow twitched.

“Wait...”

His gaze sharpened, and in the next second, he lunged into the darkness with lightning speed! He grabbed the wet, warm, fleshy blob with pinpoint accuracy.

“Holy shit—!” Shi Wu jolted and immediately flung the little thing away.

At this moment, he was genuinely terrified!

The enclosed void, the doll rabbit from the last instance—none of them had scared him this much!

“What the hell are you?!” Shi Wu cursed loudly. “Who the hell threw a booger wrapped in tissue in here?”

“Seriously, how rude???”

Shi Wu wiped his hand in disgust, but he couldn’t shake off the strange, sticky sensation in his palm. “Fuck—”

The blob let out a soft whimper after being thrown, then quietly crawled back to Shi Wu’s side, this time and stuck right to his calf.

“?!!”

Shi Wu bristled instantly, springing to his feet. “Don’t come near me!!!”

He flailed and spun in place. “Who are you? An employee of this dark room?—No, I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I’ll confess everything, anything!”

Shi Wu was so disgusted he started babbling nonsense. This tactile sensation—you'd have to feel it to understand his meltdown. Besides, the darkness amplified the fear. What if it really was a moving booger?

But the “booger” remained unfazed.

It whimpered twice, sticking and crawling up Shi Wu’s calf, past his thigh, his waist, and finally onto his back, where it gave him a “kiss,” as if showing affection.

“Ugh—”

Shi Wu shuddered reflexively, but he hadn’t eaten anything, or perhaps the strange prison food had already been digested, so nothing came out.

The strange “booger” seemed to sense Shi Wu’s inability to accept it and crawled down dejectedly, leaving a slippery trail of mucus on Shi Wu’s clothes.

Then, just a faint, rustling sound, and the “booger” tentatively touched Shi Wu’s palm again.

Now it no longer felt like a “booger.”

Shi Wu needed a moment, moving from the shock of "I was just attacked by a booger" to wondering "what the hell is this thing?"

What is this?

He tentatively bent down, swiped at the air a few times without catching it, and finally, only when the little thing came to him did Shi Wu touch it.

It was still soft, but not as slimy anymore.

Shi Wu flinched again but forced himself not to throw it away.

He slowly ran his fingers over it—huh, soft, with these round bumps, long and slender, not like a booger, more like... a tentacle.

The little thing seemed to sense Shi Wu’s lack of resistance and affectionately pressed against his fingertip, even nuzzling it.

Shi Wu: “...?”

Author’s note: