Chapter Twenty-One: Becoming a Mascot

“Zhao He’s squad... all perished?” Zhang Changlin’s expression froze for a moment, looking at the chief in disbelief.

The Dream Crossing team led by Zhao He, though only ranked Bronze, was hardly weak; Zhao He himself was an experienced mid-tier Dreammaster. How could a mere Grade Two Phantasmal Nightmare wipe out an entire Bronze team?

The chief’s face was etched with bitterness. “Please, this way...” He led Zhang Changlin to where several corpses lay beneath a white shroud. Lifting the cloth, he revealed bodies with wide, bloodshot eyes staring blankly into nothingness.

At the forefront lay Zhao He, the Bronze team captain Zhang Changlin knew. With a heavy sigh, Zhang Changlin covered the corpse again and stood up. He shook a cigarette from its pack and held it between his lips, but didn’t light it. Frowning, he turned his gaze toward the First Girls’ High School.

His senses slowly spread out, a faint dreamlike aura emanating from his body. Through his eyes, the entire school seemed to twist and distort, as if shrouded in a misty veil of gray.

“It’s definitely a Nightmare event... The dream pulse isn’t particularly strong—just about what you’d expect for a Grade Two Phantasmal level.” After a cursory probe, his brow furrowed even deeper. He turned to Chen Xi and the others.

“Prepare for reconnaissance. Treat it as a ‘Multiple Nightmare’ scenario—I want results in ten minutes.” Zhang Changlin barked the order.

“Understood.” Chen Xi immediately began adjusting her instruments, her tone grave. Even Si Nan, usually the cheeky, nonconformist girl, sensed how serious things had become.

Multiple Nightmares—also known as “Dreams within Dreams.” Within one Nightmare, another could be concealed. But probing past the first layer to glimpse the second was no easy feat. It was, in essence, like opening a blind box—luck played a large part.

The outer layer might be a Grade Two Phantasmal Nightmare, but inside, it could be something as low as Grade Three or Four... If luck was on your side, even a Grade One might lurk within. But if fortune turned against you... the inner Nightmare could be a terrifying Grade Nine. That would be catastrophic.

The intricate equipment beeped and blinked. On Zhang Changlin’s instructions, the chief dispersed the crowd again and expanded the cordon. Any Nightmare event capable of wiping out an entire team was certainly not to be taken lightly. The chief wasn’t a Dreammaster, but he’d seen enough Nightmare operations to know what had to be done next.

...

A drone relayed images from inside First Girls’ High. All the students were gathered in the classrooms, bent over their desks, busily writing exam papers. The only consolation was that every student’s vital signs remained stable—they were only dreaming, not dead. There were no signs of Nightmare deaths manifesting in reality.

“Report!” someone called out. “Of the 1,342 students currently affected by the Nightmare, none have died yet. Based on the previous Dream Crossing team’s reconnaissance footage, the extent of the Nightmare's coverage, and the observed rate of casualties, we can preliminarily assess this as a Grade Two Phantasmal Nightmare.”

“The Nightmare is provisionally codenamed [The Crimson Exam Room], following the prior team’s designation.”

“Deep analysis of the dream pulse indicates a ‘Double Nightmare’ structure,” Chen Xi continued, removing her headset and reporting to Zhang Changlin, her black coat shifting as she moved. “Captain, since it’s a Double Nightmare... should we request reinforcements? We have no way of knowing just how severe the second layer might be...”

Zhang Changlin’s brow knit tightly as he watched the drone’s video feed: row upon row of students frozen in the posture of taking an exam. He exhaled a long, heavy breath. If this really was a Multiple Nightmare, just because no one had died yet didn’t mean disaster wasn’t imminent. At a certain threshold, mass casualties could occur in the blink of an eye.

“Send a request for reinforcements to the Jiangling City Dreammaster Association. Meanwhile, get ready—we’re going in.” Zhang Changlin spoke with resolve.

“Captain...” The burly, round Zhao Lu couldn’t help but speak up.

“Old Zhao, I know what you want to say. But this is our duty as Dreammasters,” Zhang Changlin replied. “Over a thousand lives—these students aren’t dead yet, but if the Double Nightmare layers overlap, death could descend at any moment. We can afford to wait for backup—but they can’t.”

He held the cigarette in his mouth, voice low. In the distance, Su Jiuming shot him a flirtatious smile. “Captain, I have to admit, that was rather dashing.”

Zhang Changlin scratched the back of his head and laughed. “Ha! Wasn’t it? I thought so too!” After his laughter faded, he struck a deep pose, tilting his face up at a dramatic angle, flicked the hem of his black coat, and waited for a gust of wind.

Zhao Lu pursed his lips. “No, Captain, that’s not what I meant... I was saying, with your luck—nine times out of ten you lose, and in card games you never draw the jokers—maybe someone else should open this Nightmare blind box? I’m worried you’ll end up triggering a Grade Nine, or worse, a city-level catastrophe.”

Zhang Changlin: “?”

Su Jiuming: “...”

You chubby fool—if you can’t speak like a human, maybe don’t speak at all!

Zhang Changlin was so angry he bit through his cigarette as if it were a snack.

Nine out of ten losses? That’s just bad luck, nothing more!

Su Jiuming, twirling a white rose, laughed till her shoulders shook. “Really, Old Zhao, do you even hear yourself? Nine out of ten? Has Captain ever won even once?”

Chen Xi and Si Nan couldn’t help but laugh. Du Fang, holding onto Luoluo’s hand, watched the Wildfire Squad members as their laughter lit up the tense air.

“They’re just unwinding, releasing the pressure... Double Nightmares are the most oppressive—no one knows what’s lurking in the second layer. Their joking is just to ease the tension, to steel themselves to enter the Nightmare,” he thought.

“The peace and order of human society is built on their blood and tears. Sometimes, the Nightmare assault squads on the front lines are truly admirable.”

Su Xiaoyu’s long lashes trembled as she stood beside Du Fang, her eyes filled with longing and admiration. To become a frontline Dreammaster was her dream.

Du Fang’s gaze softened as he held Luoluo’s hand. Perhaps the Wildfire Squad was warmer and more human than he’d imagined.

“Alright, Old Zhao’s just joking, don’t take it seriously. Get ready, everyone...” Zhang Changlin clapped his hands. “Let’s move out!”

“Roger!” came the answering shouts from the Wildfire Squad.

Du Fang was about to respond but Zhang Changlin cut him off. “There are too many unknowns in this Nightmare. I may not be able to protect you, so you’re not joining the assault. Just stay outside and be our lucky charm... Wait for us to come back,” he said, smiling kindly at Du Fang.

Du Fang hesitated, words on the tip of his tongue.

In the distance, Su Jiuming gave him a wink. “If we don’t make it back, tell the mortician to do my makeup nicely. I don’t care how I die, but I can’t die ugly.”

Du Fang was at a loss for words. Wasn’t that a bit too much to ask of the mortician?

As Du Fang was still wondering how to reply, Zhang Changlin, Chen Xi, Zhao Lu, Si Nan, and Su Jiuming armed themselves, crossed the cordon, and stood at the gates of First Girls’ High.

One by one, they raised their hands and pressed their fingertips to their brows.

The world rippled, as if a stone had been cast into a lake.

Heavy eyelids closed.

Dream power released.

They entered the Nightmare.