Chapter 044 - Skyscraper 04

  We’d seen this kind of extradimensional phenomenon many times before, yet every single one of us still drew in a sharp breath.

  One of the players ran up to the bend in the surface, refusing to believe it was real, and stepped right over it—landing firmly on the raised other end.

  Gravity had stopped working.

  Each half of the ground now seemed to obey its own set of rules.

  We could stand upright on both surfaces, even though they were perpendicular to each other.

  No. 9 tapped the ash from his cigar, a thin wisp of smoke curling from his lips. “Looks like there’s a time limit again. What a waste—losing a whole day like this. And now, if we send everyone out to gather intel, it’s probably too late.”

  “That’s on me,” I admitted, taking responsibility without hesitation. “I didn’t realize the extra time we had was suspicious.”

  No. 9 patted my shoulder with a sigh. “No need to apologize. Everyone’s on edge, just letting the game lead us around by the nose. Anyone in our shoes would’ve thought the same…”

  He trailed off, then stepped past me and climbed the steps in front of the building to address the crowd.

  “Don’t panic, everyone. First of all, No. 32’s logic was sound—getting here early and gathering together is the safer choice. I mean, what if some monster’s chasing a lone player around? My old bones would be nothing more than a toothpick to them.”

  He chuckled kindly, trying to lighten the mood.

  “Second, there’s no need to rush off looking for clues just yet. Let’s first talk about what we each saw on the way here. Maybe if we put our observations together, we’ll uncover something useful!”

  No. 9’s age and temperament earned him the crowd’s respect, and his calm tone quickly settled everyone down.

  “You go ahead,” he said, stepping aside to give me the floor.

  I thought for a moment before speaking. “Let’s start by recalling anything strange or notable we saw on the way here. Then we’ll split into groups. Everyone has a phone, right?”

  A chorus of nods.

  “Great. Let’s create a group chat. Type your observations—don’t just say them—so that anyone who missed something can review it later.”

  The phones we had all came with a default app called *LoveComm*, which could create group chats instantly.

  The chat was quickly set up.

  Someone changed the default gibberish group name to *Brave the Trial, Fear No Hardship*, and someone else sent a few silly “nervous.jpg” memes. The heavy atmosphere lightened slightly—until someone hesitantly asked:

  “Why are there only 61 people in this group?”

  Silence fell.

  The girl with glasses who’d explained *Paradise Lost* in the last round—usually so composed—had reddened eyes as she spoke quietly. “No. 99, the girl with me… she was dragged off and eaten by a creature with spider legs and a human torso and head.”

  Three more people gone.

  ------------------------------------------------------

  Thankfully, everyone managed to push down the heavy sorrow. Someone was the first to type:

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  > [I’ll go first. I came from the lake in the southwest corner of the map. It’s artificial, nothing special. But on the way, I saw a lot of banners—protesting ‘large-scale physics experiments’ and fundraising for a ‘space migration program’.]

  Another message followed immediately:

  > [Space migration?! I saw some ads too. Something about rockets and docking modules being mass-produced—trying to sell the idea as a huge investment opportunity with ridiculous returns.]

  That sparked a cautious question:

  “You don’t think all the humans in this city migrated to space, do you?”

  “No way,” I said, scanning the map for clues. “If that were the case, we’d have to take a ship into space to find them. But this city doesn’t have a launch site. There aren’t many science facilities here—just two. One’s the Aviation Science Museum about 5 km from here, the other’s the M-Nation Quantum Information Lab, 20 km away. We can check both out later.”

  I circled both locations on the map. Definitely places we had to visit.

  No. 25, still wearing her windbreaker, chimed in on the group chat:

  > [Agreed. I came from the residential district up north. There’s an open-air theater there. They were playing something called “The Cat’s Bizarre Adventure.”]

  Someone asked:

  > [What kind of cat? Black, white, tabby, spotted?]

  > [What kind of play was it?]

  No. 25 replied:

  > [All colors. The ad showed every kind of cat. I think it was a horror piece. Some cats had heads and hind legs, but their bellies were hollow. Others were missing their heads, or their bodies had weird gaps in the middle—it was seriously creepy.]

  After all we’d seen in this game, it took a lot more than a weird cat ad to shake anyone. But her description made me frown and think hard.

  “Were the missing parts different on every cat?” I asked aloud.

  No. 25 nodded and grabbed a nearby newspaper. She tore it into thin strips and casually removed a few. “Like this. Each cat was missing different sections.”

  “Randomized?” Elliot Vance chimed in, catching my eye.

  He began typing, and his number popped up in the group chat.

  > [I came from the municipal center. The doors were open and all the lights were on, so I went inside. On the president’s desk were two documents—one authorizing military force to ‘suppress protesting M-Nation citizens,’ the other approving a plan for the Quantum Information Center to ‘conduct human-based experiments.’]

  Now this was getting interesting.

  I typed:

  > [There *is* a real National Quantum Information Research Center, located on an air force base. It makes sense that aviation and quantum experiments are linked. So, we *definitely* need to check out both the museum and the lab.]

  > [Also, about the cats—has no one noticed? The city’s emblem *is* a cat.]

  Every shop I’d entered, every public transport I’d taken, had some version of a cat symbol hidden in plain sight.

  Sometimes it was cutesy and playful, other times elegant and regal.

  Some were so abstract you could barely make out a long curved tail or a pair of whiskers. You had to look closely to recognize them.

  But No. 25’s mention of the “Cat Theater” triggered a chain reaction in my mind—everything I’d seen before came rushing back.

  And now I was certain.

  They were all cats.