Chapter Two: A Seasoned Criminal Revealed at a Glance

“Beep beep—”

“All monitoring instruments, stand by!”

“Seal off the scene! Keep all unauthorized personnel away! Begin emergency evacuation of anyone not affected by the dream disaster!”

“Jiangling University’s study room has been suddenly engulfed by a dream disaster. All thirty-six students inside have fallen into a dream state. Begin checking their vital signs and likelihood of survival.”

“Commence assessment of the dream disaster’s severity!”

“The Dream Ferryman has arrived. Prepare to use dream-probing abilities to investigate the disaster’s dreamscape and develop a dream rescue plan!”

…

Jiangling University.

Outside the study room.

Sirens wailed as barricades went up, cordoning off the building housing the study room. Unauthorized persons were strictly forbidden from entering.

Professionals in uniform, faces grim, operated sophisticated equipment with utmost care. Official law enforcement maintained order with practiced precision.

It was clear this wasn’t their first time facing such an incident.

Among the crowd, several figures in black trench coats approached slowly, gathering in front of a monitor.

On the screen, the scene inside the study room was reflected. Thirty-six students slumped over their desks, fast asleep, some snoring. Many muttered odd phrases in their sleep.

“A pair of twos! I’m definitely winning this round!”

“No… I’m done, I’ve lost four times in a row… spare me, I really can’t play cards…”

“Boohoo, my mom says gambling is wrong!”

“Hahaha! I have the king bomb in my hand, I’m winning for sure!”

…

These mutterings made the leading figure in black watching the screen frown deeper and deeper.

The leader exhaled slowly, then spoke, “The situation doesn’t look good. They’re all in a deep dream state.”

“We’re ready. Lock onto the dream for probing. The dreamscape will be projected onto the display!”

“Counting down for dream probing.”

“Three, two, one…”

“Beep—”

A soft sound.

The next moment, ripples like water began to spread across the screen. As the tremors faded, the image gradually sharpened.

…

…

Crumbling walls oozed black liquid, patches of peeling white paint crawling with black mold.

Cobwebs hung thick, with spiders feasting on decaying flesh wrapped in silk.

Even through the screen, the stench of rot seemed almost palpable.

Old furniture, gloomy lighting, and the occasional sound of bones scraping together—the atmosphere was chilling to the core.

In the center of the room,

The student singled out for dream-probing sat drenched in sweat on a bloodstained wooden chair, facing a card table.

The blood dripping onto the floor was his own.

His face was pale, his eyes filled with terror and despair.

One hand clutched a spread of battered, filthy playing cards; the other, with all five fingers severed, bled profusely.

Lose a round, lose a finger…

He’d lost five rounds.

Five fingers, gone without a trace.

The student trembled, and with difficulty, bit down on four cards in succession, spitting them out onto the table.

“Three… three of a kind with a single,” he stammered, his voice quivering.

“King bomb. Game over.”

A cold, raspy voice, like a fruit knife scraping hard across glass, sent chills down the spine.

Slap.

A rotting hand flung down two grotesque jokers painted with the faces of sinister women, tossing them onto the table, accompanied by a freshly detached eyeball.

The eyeball rolled a circle, then was snatched back by the rotting hand.

The student shuddered, and looking up, saw—across the table—a figure staring at him with that blood-streaked eyeball just stuffed back into its socket.

“You’ve lost again, young man.”

“This is the final round. Your wager… is your heart.”

The monstrous thing, vaguely shaped like a once-elegant woman, grinned a crescent smile, speaking in a hoarse, mocking tone.

“No…”

Despair overwhelmed the student as sweat poured down his face.

He screamed, leaping up, flinging his cards aside, shoving the table away with his one arm, clutching his mutilated hand, and frantically trying to flee.

Yet no matter how he ran, even at a sprinter’s pace, he could not escape the confines of that decrepit room.

The sinister, rotting woman abruptly appeared behind him.

He turned his head,

And let out a shrill, hopeless scream.

A withered, rotten hand pierced his chest, yanked out a still-beating heart.

With a wet squelch,

The heart was bitten into.

…

“Beep—”

The screen went dark.

…

…

“Report!”

“Among the thirty-six students caught in the dream disaster, fatalities are beginning to occur!”

“Analysis complete. Based on the dream probe, the disaster’s area of effect, and the rate of student deaths, we can tentatively classify the incident as a ‘Ghoul Grade Three’ dream disaster.”

“Temporary code name: [Specter’s Cards]. There’s a one percent chance of yielding a Ghoul Grade Three Forbidden Artifact!”

Outside the study room,

A young girl in a black trench coat reported data and information to a middle-aged man seated before the screen, a cigarette dangling from his lips, deep in thought.

“Ghoul Grade Three?”

“It’s not a particularly high grade. The lethal efficiency of the dream entity should be fairly low. That’s some small blessing. We can proceed with a forced dream-break plan—let’s save as many of the sleeping students as we can.”

The man stood, flicking ash from his cigarette between two fingers.

A Ghoul Grade Three dream disaster, while not top-tier, was already deadly enough. Ordinary people caught within, if the disaster wasn’t resolved quickly, rarely survived.

Even Dream Ferrymen faced serious risks when dealing with a Ghoul Grade Three disaster.

Dream Ferryman—a special profession born of this increasingly bizarre world.

In this world, vast and prosperous, with advanced technology and glittering cities, everything changed one day when a strange sleep disorder emerged—spreading at terrifying speed.

Those infected would fall into deep sleep and become trapped in bizarre, nightmarish dreamscapes, suffering all manner of terror and ultimately dying in misery.

These phenomena became known as dream disasters.

In this world, the supernatural did not exist.

But in dreams, it did.

Ghosts, monsters, demons, beasts, evil gods, sins…

All could be found in dreams.

To encounter a dream disaster was to fall into unending horror.

The most terrifying part…

To die in the dream was to die in reality as well.

Suffocate in a dream, suffocate in real life.

Torn limb from limb in a dream, your body in reality would be found just as mangled…

Crushed to pulp, minced to paste, burned to ash in a dream—the same would happen to your body, as if by some impossible force.

Utterly unscientific.

Even more inexplicable: these dreams were contagious.

Like a virus, they spread outward, infecting others, dragging them into the same nightmare, exposing them to the same dangers.

There was once a terrifying dream disaster that spread from a single housing block to an entire third-tier city. Millions fell into the same nightmare, all dying in despair, their bodies fused into the walls.

In reality, those corpses were indeed found embedded in concrete and steel.

Dream disasters had made this era deeply uncanny.

Yet they also brought opportunity—for Dream Ferrymen were born.

Anyone who could survive a dream disaster through their own power would seize the key to open the gates of dreams, gaining the ability to re-enter such dreamscapes at will.

Moreover, they stood a good chance of awakening a special ability.

Such abilities were the Dream Ferrymen’s greatest assets, allowing them to help others survive and dispel these nightmarish disasters.

Thus, the requirements to become a Dream Ferryman were strict.

Not only must one survive a dream disaster alone, with a spirit strong enough to withstand the ordeal, but also awaken a special power—both were essential.

Some speculated these strange events originated from a parallel dimension, descending upon this world through dreams, corroding reality bit by bit.

Even those who escaped a dream disaster might find its will parasitizing them, gradually eroding their mind, turning them into dream demons that walked the waking world.

For all these reasons, dream disasters were exceedingly dangerous.

To ferry dreams, to ferry dreams—

To seek her within the dream, to ferry souls across the boundary!

Re-entering the disaster to guide and rescue… even the most experienced Dream Ferrymen might not emerge unscathed.

It was a profession with a staggeringly high mortality rate.

…

“If it’s just a Ghoul Grade Three disaster, I think it’s still possible to rescue those students who are still alive.”

“Chen Xi, gather the rest of the team. Prepare for a direct dream assault!”

The middle-aged man said sternly.

“Yes, sir!” The girl in the black trench coat snapped her legs together and answered loudly.

But just as the two made their decision, a shout came from the distance.

“Report! Captain Zhang, a student has just awakened from the dream!”

“We’ve secured them!”

“Judging by their actions, they’re a seasoned offender—there’s a possibility of dream demon possession!”

…

The girl and the man both froze.

To escape from a Ghoul Grade Three dream disaster so quickly and wake up on their own?

If it wasn’t dream demon possession,

It might just be the awakening of a prodigious Dream Ferryman.

The man’s heart leapt with excitement. He stubbed out his cigarette and immediately sat down, narrowing his eyes at the screen before him.

On the display appeared a youth, face full of innocence, clutching his head and squatting on the ground,

like someone just caught sneaking out of a bathhouse.