Dimensional Hotel

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The special agent who called herself “Ren Wen Wen” had only just stepped out of the room and was now strolling away down the street. Irene, the tiny doll, leaned out of the open window, her delicate porcelain-like arms folded over the sill, and carefully watched the agent’s figure vanish around a corner. A moment later, she turned back inside and noticed Yu Sheng standing there, gazing blankly into space.

“Yu Sheng,” she said curiously, tilting her little head to one side, “just what is that ‘Snowstorm Mystery’ she mentioned?”

Yu Sheng’s cheeks went slightly pink, and he looked rather awkward. He cleared his throat quietly before replying, “It’s… well, it’s a story I wrote. It’s serialized on a media site.”

Irene’s large eyes blinked, intrigued. “And who’s this ‘Lin Qi’ she was talking about?” she asked.

Yu Sheng lowered his eyes as though embarrassed. “He’s the male lead in my story,” he explained.

“And what about ‘Nightblade’?” Irene continued, her small voice persistent. She blinked again, and just as Yu Sheng opened his mouth to answer, a sudden spark of understanding lit up her face. “Oh! I understand now—she must be the female lead!”

Yu Sheng fell into a heavy silence and stared up at the ceiling as if searching for invisible answers hidden in the paint. Seeing his troubled expression, Irene raised her eyebrows and pressed on, this time more cautiously. “…Don’t tell me ‘Nightblade’ is actually another male lead?” Her voice sounded worried, as if she were afraid of unraveling something terribly strange.

Leaning back in his chair, Yu Sheng let out a long sigh. “If it were just another male lead, I’d find it much easier to accept.”

Irene’s eyes grew wide, her delicate brows lifting. “Then… is it the male antagonist?” she guessed softly, sounding both startled and somewhat hopeful. “I sort of recall that strange pairings like that can happen…”

Yu Sheng glanced at her, noting how her tiny mind seemed to waste its precious storage on odd guesswork. He sighed again, this time more deeply, and said, “It’s the male lead’s motorcycle.”

For a moment, Irene was utterly speechless. It seemed that this revelation struck her harder than that time she had seen an enormous eye filling the sky. She actually jumped down from the windowsill and landed softly on the floor. Pointing one tiny finger accusingly at Yu Sheng, she declared, “You write the most bizarre things!”

“Hey!” Yu Sheng protested, exasperation flooding his voice. “I never wrote anything like that!” He looked as though he wanted to defend his literary honor. “Maybe those people at the Special Affairs Bureau are under too much stress. Perhaps their worldview is… a bit twisted?”

If Ren Wen Wen were still here, Yu Sheng would have very much enjoyed telling her straight to her face, “Miss, your tastes are quite something!”

Just then, Foxy, who had been lurking quietly at the side, strolled over, curiosity sparkling in her eyes. “Benefactor, Irene, what in the world are you two talking about?” she asked politely, sounding as if she’d stumbled upon some grand secret.

Yu Sheng waved his hand wearily, looking drained. “This is not something for good kids to hear,” he said, then added with a grumble, “or even bad kids, for that matter.” He cast his gaze toward his laptop, which had remained untouched. He had planned to write this afternoon, to catch up on the story he’d neglected, but after all this nonsense, not a single word would come to him.

“You’re not going to write today?” Irene asked, glancing eagerly at his computer. A curious brightness shone in her eyes, as if the mysteries of the world lay hidden in that device.

“I’ll write tomorrow,” Yu Sheng answered with a tired sigh. He noticed how the little doll’s gaze lingered on his laptop, as if she longed to do something with it. “What do you want?” he asked, picking up on her hint.

“May I play on it?” Irene asked sweetly, pointing one tiny finger at the laptop. “I’m a bit bored of just watching television all day.”

Yu Sheng hesitated, doubt furrowing his brow. Irene quickly cut in, her voice earnest, “I promise I won’t check your browser history!”

His face darkened slightly, and he snapped, “I’m not worried about that! I’m worried you’ll break it. Do you even know how to use a computer?”

Irene planted her small fists on her hips, as if insulted. “I do! I know perfectly well how to use it!” she declared confidently.

Yu Sheng eyed her with suspicion. “And just where did you learn that?”

“I’m not sure,” Irene admitted, looking thoughtful for a moment. “I just know how. I can even type!”

Her assuredness puzzled Yu Sheng. After a short pause, he shrugged. “Fine,” he said reluctantly, waving her over to the device. “Just be careful and don’t break anything. I’m going to examine this new phone.” With that, he left her to it, sitting down a short distance away with the new smartphone that Ren Wen Wen had given him.

This phone was a “gift” from Bai Li Qing, the director of the Special Affairs Bureau. At first glance, it looked no different from an ordinary smartphone, though it felt a touch heavier in the hand. Perhaps it had a sturdier build or contained some special features deep inside. Ren Wen Wen had not explained much, only saying it turned on like a normal phone and that all “special instructions” for people like him were already integrated into the system.

With careful interest, Yu Sheng turned the device on. The screen lit up, revealing a large red, diamond-shaped emblem in the center, featuring a vigilant eye open wide, staring back at him. He assumed this must be the Bureau’s emblem. It faded quickly, replaced by a simple, uncluttered home screen. Being a brand-new device, it had only a few icons. The most eye-catching among them was one called “Border Communication,” marked by that same red diamond logo.

Yu Sheng tapped it, and it opened instantly without any delay. Inside was a neat, well-organized interface that seemed to provide a variety of tools—communication channels, data searches, public message boards, news feeds, and even an emergency support button.

A curious excitement stirred inside him as he explored this “comprehensive platform” the Bureau had developed, supposedly for all registered spirit detectives and independent investigators of the Borderland. He soon noticed that the app was already logged in under his own name: “Yu Sheng.”

Registered just this morning! he thought. Did Director Bai Li Qing arrange it all beforehand? Maybe it was a security measure, binding the phone to a single user and loading their registration information directly onto it. Special devices often worked like that.

While he was pondering, Yu Sheng found the chat function within “Border Communication.” On a whim, he typed in “Little Red Riding Hood” into the search bar. Sure enough, an avatar appeared, showing a figure in a red cloak from behind—and the status indicated she was online at that very moment.

Yu Sheng considered this for a moment and then typed, “Are you there?”

Within seconds, the avatar flickered, and a stream of punctuation marks appeared: “???!!!”

He typed again, “It’s me, Yu Sheng. The Special Affairs Bureau just gave me a phone. I saw you use this app before, and now I have it too.”

This time, Little Red Riding Hood didn’t reply at once. When she did, it was with a shocked message: “You actually did it?! I thought you were joking!”

A moment later, another message came: “I’m in class right now.”

Yu Sheng raised his eyebrows and typed, “Won’t the teacher catch you?”

“Nope!” she answered briskly. “I’ve got my wolf holding the phone on the rooftop. We share senses, so I’m sitting in class looking perfectly attentive while my wolf handles the typing.”

Yu Sheng was startled. “…You can do that?”

“Sure can!” she replied, sounding pleased with herself. “I’ve been practicing for over two years. At first, I could only send basic emojis, but now I can even play co-op games this way. What about you? Did you really become a spirit detective? And those two at your place—did you register them as well?”

Yu Sheng glanced at Irene, who was now perched on his keyboard like a tiny warrior, and at Foxy, who seemed more interested in scrounging for food than anything else. He typed back, “Yes, I registered them. But we only have this one phone…”

He paused, then admitted, “Now that the excitement’s worn off, I’m not even sure what to do next.”

Little Red Riding Hood’s next message appeared almost immediately: “Try talking to Irene. She seems to know a lot about supernatural things.”

Yu Sheng smirked wryly at the suggestion. “She’d probably just tell me to put up flyers all over town,” he replied. “Asking her isn’t much help. Asking you is better.”

“…Well, that’s not a completely terrible idea,” came her response, though she quickly changed topics, “But you might want to start by looking through the materials the Bureau provides. There’s a huge amount of information here—details on special places in the Borderland, reports on stable portals to the Otherworld. Or you could check the public channels where other detectives share fresh intelligence. If you’re looking to earn some money, see if anyone’s posted requests for assistance. And if you’re unsure about deals or think someone’s trying to scam you, just ask me.”

It was a long and thoughtful reply. Yu Sheng could sense her sincerity through the screen, and it touched him that, hidden behind her wolves and mysterious persona, she was genuinely trying to help.

“Thank you. That’s really helpful,” he typed back, meaning every word.

“It’s no trouble, just a small suggestion,” Little Red Riding Hood answered warmly. “Oh, since you’re a registered detective now, did you form a team? What did you name it?”

Yu Sheng typed, “The Hotel,” careful with each letter. “You won’t find any information about it yet, though, since the paperwork just went through this morning.”

“‘The Hotel’—I like it!” she praised. Whether she was being honest or polite, Yu Sheng couldn’t tell, but it was nice to hear. “Maybe it’ll become a famous name in the Borderland one day!”

He chuckled softly as he typed, “From your lips to God’s ears. Anyway, I won’t keep you from class. I’ll take a look at those databases you mentioned.”

“Alright, bye~” she replied cheerily.

After closing the chat with Little Red Riding Hood, Yu Sheng exhaled and found himself smiling. Meanwhile, clacking sounds of frantic typing drifted over from Irene’s direction. He glanced at her and noticed that she was now standing right on top of his keyboard. The little doll was typing away furiously, her entire tiny body bouncing up and down with each keystroke.

“What are you doing?” he asked, walking over. “You’re making a lot of noise. Don’t break my keyboard.”

“I’m playing a game,” Irene answered, her voice haughty. “Someone in here just called me slow, and I’m arguing back!” She crossed her arms, clearly peeved. “This keyboard’s too big; it’s hard for me to type!”

Yu Sheng peeked at the screen, and to his shock, he saw that Irene wasn’t just playing a game—she was in a heated argument, tossing insults left and right. No one was safe from her wrath: her own teammates, the opponents, even the game developers and the advertisers splashed across the battlefield. She was hurling words in all directions with impressive, if somewhat appalling, skill.

Yu Sheng stared, amazed that this tiny doll, who seemed so clumsy at everything else, was an absolute terror when it came to online trash talk. He could only imagine how her endless stream of insults must be landing. But before she could gain the upper hand in her digital showdown, a sudden alert flashed across the screen.

Irene’s account had been banned. A large notice popped up, informing them of a temporary suspension.

Yu Sheng snorted softly. “Serves you right,” he said, folding his arms and looking satisfied. He watched Irene jumping up and down on the desk, hopping mad.

She paused mid-bounce, as if a dreadful thought had occurred to her. Turning slowly, Irene looked at Yu Sheng guiltily. “Um… this… well, this is your account,” she admitted in a very small voice.

Yu Sheng: “…”