ecstasy

This time, he asked them to carry the [Plastic Immortal] with broken arms and walk in front, while he walked behind.

-

It was evening - around six o'clock, and the sky was already dark: at this time in the past, the sky was still very bright.

It seems that the weather is finally cooperating and sending a long-awaited heavy rain to drive away the summer heat.

There is a pavilion in the square of the Provincial Library. In the past, there were always groups of old men and women practicing Tai Chi or Ba Duan Jin in it.

And now—they were sitting cross-legged on the tiles, their hands clasped together, forming a circle. All of them had their eyes closed, as if they were asleep.

Doudou was lying on the windowsill of the Provincial Library, eating snow cakes and reading:

"By the time they stand up, their legs must be numb."

It looks like he might be practicing Qigong--

At least it won't be a place where the elderly develop a second spring in the evening, where they can hold social activities and rebuild new families.

Doudou guessed that they were dreaming: needless to say, it was an illusion as real as reality; Doudou himself had entered it several times in the past few days.

[It's developing so fast, how come everyone knows it now? ]

But that's not certain—I don't have the time or the interest to know for sure right now.

After he finished his snacks, he went back to the library; he had been reading novels and comics for the entire afternoon and almost forgot what he had come to the library to buy.

Doudou did not go to the Mong Cai Observatory.

According to the woman named Sidney, Richard and the mathematicians will be there tonight:

The first and most important reason is that it is too far away; it is literally on the other side of Mong Cai City, and it takes almost an hour to get there by bus, so if you want to go there, you have to leave now.

Secondly, maybe that crazy white-haired woman is just going crazy? A psychopath with superpowers is still a psychopath: maybe even more seriously ill.

But before he returned home from the provincial library, he spent some time at the information desk.

The cashier lady in the audio-visual section never came back. Maybe she was really a spy. Doudou looked around the audio-visual section but couldn't find what he wanted to buy.

"Teacher, do you have any small cards for sale?"

Doudou ran to the lobby on the first floor, lay down on the edge of the wooden information table, and shouted to the volunteer administrator who was standing behind the table flipping through the catalog.

The administrator was young, his glasses as thick as the bottom of a beer bottle. He paused turning the pages and casually tapped a few thick copies of the Intercity Postal Directory on the table with his knuckles. His voice was low but not cold:

"International or domestic? If you want to check long-distance routes, go to the window next door."

Doudou waved his hands and used his index fingers and thumbs to form a rectangle:

"It's not a phone card, it's a card for a logistics network game—like "Asgard Blood Feast" or "Galaxy Three Kingdoms." Do you sell any sub-cards for them?"

The administrator raised his eyebrows, with a look of surprise on his face:

"Oh, you mean that one? Wait, I think there's one from 'Blood Feast in Asgard'."

He turned around and squatted behind the counter to look through the drawers. His movements were a bit clumsy and he almost spilled the book labels next to it all over the floor.

"A lot of people have been asking about this lately." The administrator pulled out a plastic storage box and started picking through the items. "It seems it's because a transfer point has opened in Jiaozhi. Now it's much faster to do this."

Doudou nodded and gently tapped the mottled, old counter:

"Yes! Before, we had to send it back to the mainland, or use transit points in Laos and Thailand; it took three to five days to play a round."

"It was so slow, I stopped playing at that point."

The administrator pulled out some shiny printed booklets and some envelopes and spread them all out on the table.

"Small card—it's a one-time card, right? I only have one-time and quarterly cards here. Annual cards are ordered through agencies, and you have to fill out a form and wait for approval."

As he spoke, he flipped through an instruction manual printed and bound by volunteers:

"Did you bring this [player client] yourself? The mini-cards don't come with it."

Doudou took out a stack of printed paper that still smelled of ink from his schoolbag and shook it.

They were stapled together and looked freshly typed:

"Oh, it's printed at the self-service printing station on the third floor."

The administrator nodded and pointed at the cards and booklets on the table:

"Okay, the small card is five bucks, and it comes with thirty special stamps. The quarterly card is fifteen bucks, and in addition to the ninety stamps, it also comes with this [explanatory pack] and two pre-set letters."

"But if you're mailing it, you have to go through the post office's professional route; you can't use pipelines. I suggest you consult with the post office when the time comes."

After searching around for a while, he finally picked up a card with a brighter pattern. It had a picture of a man in red wearing a Taoist hat, with flying swords spitting out of his mouth.

"It's just a small card. I haven't even finished the solo level yet; I'm still on the spawn map."

The administrator hummed, then lowered his head and flipped through the manual:

"Also—about a dozen players have inquired about this. I might apply for one. What are you guys calling it? It's like an organization among players."

Doudou was still stuffing the "Immortal Palace Blood Feast" game card into his schoolbag while taking out change from his trouser pocket:

"Oh, is that called a guild or a gang?"

The administrator lightly hammered his palm:

"Ah, yes. Let me see. Maybe I can apply for a gang to be hosted by our provincial map? Then you can join."

"You can come to me again to buy cards in the future, and I'll try to introduce you to other players. Then you can form a team nearby, and you won't have to be limited to playing single-player campaigns."

"Also," he lowered his voice, as if to tell a secret, "if there are over thirty of you, the game operations will send someone like a 'Fairyland Master'—something like a host—to assist you in playing and run the game for you on the spot."

My buddy has to go on a business trip until the day after tomorrow, so I guess I won’t be able to update tomorrow; I’ll see if I can catch up the day after tomorrow (my mind starts to get muddled when I’m away from home).

Horror movies I've watched recently: Resurrection (so-so), Death of a Unicorn (disliked). The quality of A24's films is becoming increasingly inconsistent. Season 1 of Resurrection (the comics are okay).

Recommend "Final Destination 6", don't hesitate

Chapter 128 Rain

There is always a sense of distance between the provincial library and the word "gang".

But Doudou knew that many of the gameplay in "Xian Gong Blood Feast" could only be unlocked after joining a gang.

For special activities such as [Cave Exploration] and [Demon Slaying], you need to register as a gang first before the operator will release the module information.

Player organizations such as "gangs" and "sects" basically have to apply through local video game stores or board game stores; but in Mong Cai, it seems that only the provincial library is acting as an agent.

The administrator continued as he sorted through the brochures at the front desk:

"But don't worry—even if we do form a gang, the [Master of Wonderland] won't be able to come to Mong Cai anytime soon to help us run the game."

"We'll have to wait at least a few days. It's been a bit inconvenient getting in and out of Mong Cai lately. We were supposed to get new books into the library today, but they were stuck outside the city and had to be sent back."

He scratched his head and said with a tired tone:

"Classmate, you'd better go home early; the provincial library will close early recently, so don't run around outside at night."

Doudou glanced at the empty hall:

"Oh, a lot of schools suddenly closed this afternoon. Did something big happen?"

At lunchtime, students still crowded the first-floor lobby - now the crowd has dispersed, leaving only groups of people wandering around in groups of three or four, as if just trying to delay going home.

The administrator took off his glasses and slowly wiped the lenses:

"I can't say for sure about that. I'd have to ask your classmates. There aren't any special announcements today, but there are definitely a lot of middle school students here."

Doudou stuffed the "Immortal Palace Blood Feast" cards and stamp booklet into his schoolbag and arranged them:

"Okay! I'll be leaving now, teacher. I'll ask you to join my gang next time."

The library administrator is not actually a teacher, but Doudou calls him that for the sake of convenience and intimacy.

-

When I walked out of the provincial library: there was no bright red sunlight as before, only lead gray covering everything.

The air was moist and humid; dragonflies flew low by, followed closely by swallows, their wings almost broken by the moisture; even the old men and women in the pavilion had left without anyone noticing.

Doudou raised his head:

The clouds were piling up in front of Mom and Dad's faces, almost covering them all; from time to time, a flash of white light or a forked white branch would appear, followed by thunder, sometimes far away, sometimes near.

Rumble, rumble: thunder rolls by.

The motorcycles and cars parked in the Provincial Library were like small animals startled by thunder, making "beep, beep" alarm sounds.

It looks like the coming rain will be quite heavy: a typhoon is coming.

It’s strange that there haven’t been any typhoons this year. Normally, typhoon season in Mong Cai begins in June; strong winds and heavy rain are a regular feature of this city’s summer:

But throughout the summer vacation and the start of school - except for a few showers, only one person fell from the sky over Mong Cai; including Doudou.

[Otherwise, let's go to the observatory and take a look--]

This thought suddenly popped up in my mind, as abrupt as the appearance of a heavy rain cloud.

However, Doudou thought that this idea was very reasonable: since it looked like a typhoon was coming, the school would most likely be closed tomorrow and we could sleep in; if we didn’t go today, we would be at a loss when our curiosity would be rekindled on the weekend.

Just do it:

He gathered his raincoat around him, wrapped his schoolbag inside it, and put on his hood.

Although I always wear a raincoat, I didn’t wear rubber boots today; if I wanted to go to the observatory, I still had to catch a bus.

-

It's raining.

The ceiling opened its mouth wide and spit out saliva as hard as it could - this is still an understatement to describe the rain.

Doudou felt that in the sky, the countless faces of fathers and mothers were all secretly drinking Coke, and then accidentally choked; so that the carbonated drink sprayed out from their nostrils and mouths.

For the rain looked almost black, blending with the dusk; as if the whole night had melted into water and was falling drop by drop.

There were not many pedestrians on the street, most of them were hiding under the eaves on both sides of the sidewalk; occasionally, a figure holding an umbrella or covering his head with plastic sheeting would run by.

Before the rain got heavier, Doudou got on the bus at the provincial library station; the ticket printed by the machine was blurred by the rain.

The No. 600 bus moved slowly along the road. Often, before it had even moved a few steps on a green light, it would turn red; this cycle repeated itself.

The ceiling was ping-pong-pinging, and the car radio was reporting news about the typhoon:

Latest weather report: A severe tropical storm, [Willie], has formed in the Beibu Gulf, with maximum winds reaching force 12 at its center. It is moving northwestward at 20 kilometers per hour. Citizens are advised to minimize outdoor activities and coastal vessels are advised to return to port immediately to avoid the storm.

The last time a typhoon made landfall, the entire coastal area was without water and electricity for half a week; all the news showed were overturned billboards and flooded electricity meter boxes.

Doudou grabbed the ring on the armrest - he gave his seat to an old lady, and the old lady gave it to a pregnant woman who was holding her belly.

He also borrowed books from the provincial library, but he didn't read them; because the No. 600 bus was like a talking can of instant food, filled with nagging people.

People were talking to each other in groups, but no one was discussing the coming typhoon.

It was like a submission to a late-night horror show on the radio; each person's words were terrifying yet completely different.

Doudou squeezed in among them, listening to it with fascination:

"He just disappeared. He didn't finish the project, didn't ask for leave, and just didn't come to work for several days. No one answered the phone at home. Xiao Wang said he went to Xiachangshan Beach in the middle of the night. Before he went, he said he saw a crying dragon in the sea. Yes, the dragon from the West Sea Dragon King."

"--It's fake. Serial killers are out there. Who would come to Mong Cai to kill people? They'd probably be embarrassed. There are only a few people in this damn place, how could they kill people? Stop watching that 'Cat-Faced Old Grandma' every day."

"Yes, that's right! I drove out of the city and along the national highway to Mount Panay, but was stopped. They said I had to take a train or bus to get out of Mong Cai. They were even holding guns, like they were from some military unit."

"My dad saw it during his morning exercise. The man had no head before he jumped from the roof. My dad and the ambulance searched for the man's head for a long time, but they couldn't find it. It was so scary. I don't even want to live there anymore. The neighborhood must be so dark right now—"

"This old uncle has gone completely insane. He used to love ballroom dancing, but now he doesn't do it anymore. He just drags his whole family into a room to meditate every day. It's not qigong, it's alien technology. Some say it's the latest virtual reality technology in the galaxy. That's ridiculous."

They are just fragments of words that cannot capture the complete content of each conversation.

But in just a few sentences, no one was telling the same weird rumors; Doudou pricked up his ears and moved his head around, unable to hear anything at all -

Sometimes he couldn't help but want to strike up a conversation, but his attention was drawn to the strange news from the other side: in this city with a population of nearly one million, there were indeed many strange things happening.

Even the passengers who were not participating in the conversation had frowns on their faces; it was unclear whether they were worried about the typhoon that was about to land - or if they were like Doudou, carefully eavesdropping on the stories being told by everyone.

No one said it out loud, but I think this thought is lingering in everyone's mind: just like this sudden rainstorm, the atmosphere in Mong Cai City has been a little unusual recently.

The bus jolted forward, and the rain got heavier.

My buddy is about to be sunburned