Dimensional Hotel

A small figure in a bright red coat stood beneath a tall streetlamp, her hood casting a soft shadow over her face. The lamplight made her look both delicate and alert. Around her feet, in the shifting darkness, something watchful and cunning lurked, a pair of sharp eyes quietly observing the world outside. Those eyes took note of the “outsiders” who were drawing closer, their footsteps echoing along the quiet street.

The girl in the red coat—Little Red Riding Hood—lifted her gaze and immediately recognized Yu Sheng and his companions as they approached. Her expression remained calm and steady, as if greeting old friends.

“Sorry, the taxi took a bit longer than I expected,” Yu Sheng called out, raising his arm in a friendly wave. “Did you wait long?”

“Only a few minutes,” Little Red Riding Hood replied, her voice matter-of-fact. She glanced to the side, as though checking something hidden. “I sent my wolves around the area already. Nothing strange tonight. The Museum should be steady, so this evening is perfect for our work. Did you read all the information I sent?”

“Yeah, I did,” Yu Sheng answered, nodding as his gaze followed hers toward a large, silent structure in the darkness. The building was old, empty for years, and it seemed to breathe ancient secrets.

But that old building wasn’t exactly a “museum.” It was once a theater, now long abandoned and sealed from the public. Somewhere inside its silent halls lay the hidden entrance to the so-called Museum—an Otherworldly place they planned to enter tonight.

Little Red Riding Hood’s voice was firm as she gave them instructions: “Once the Museum Night begins, remember the rules. Don’t touch any items that seem to be breathing. Don’t stare too long at any painted portraits. Don’t go into rooms painted red. And if you see a mannequin dressed like a tour guide, pay close attention to its hands. Whatever door it points to, don’t enter that door or even consider it.”

She paused, giving Yu Sheng and the others a long, careful look. “That’s about it. The Museum is known as a relatively stable Otherworld. Its depth usually stays around L-2. As long as we don’t break the rules, we should be safe. The threat level is marked at Level Two…”

As she spoke, Yu Sheng’s mind drifted back to the “introductory guides” he had studied from the Special Affairs Bureau’s encyclopedia. Registering with the Bureau had given him access to a wealth of information about the supernatural world—knowledge that had helped him understand things like “depth” and “threat levels.” He now grasped what Li Lin and Xu Jiali had meant when they spoke of such things, though before he could never fully make sense of it.

He recalled the definitions: Depth, in simple terms, measured how far an Otherworld drifted from the normal reality. The real world was at Level Zero. As you moved into Otherworlds, the depth rose from L-1 to L-5. An L-1 Otherworld might just seem a bit odd, something a regular person might stumble into by accident and possibly wander out of again. But an L-5 Otherworld was a place of near-certain doom, where survivors were rare and perhaps only escaped through impossible flukes. Experts weren’t even sure if exits existed in L-5 realms.

Otherworld depths usually stayed constant, but under certain conditions, they could shift. A sudden change in depth often spelled disaster for Spirit Realm detectives and investigators. Many had met their end that way.

Then there was the threat level, another vital way to measure danger. Generally, deeper Otherworlds were deadlier, but there were exceptions. Some shallow ones housed terrifying creatures. Others, even at L-3 (normally a high-risk zone), contained safe areas you could rely on. Because of these oddities, depth and threat level stood as separate ratings. Threat level also applied to the entities lurking inside these worlds.

With these facts settled in his mind, Yu Sheng and his companions followed Little Red Riding Hood toward the old theater’s entrance. The building stood like a mute giant, its iron door slightly ajar, and beyond it a dimly lit hall awaited.

As they neared the entrance, Little Red Riding Hood said quietly, “Honestly, by the usual rules, I shouldn’t be bringing a newcomer like you into a Level-2 Otherworld. Normally, Spirit Realm newcomers start with L-1 worlds—less danger, easier escape routes if something goes wrong. But you and your friends aren’t normal beginners, are you? You managed in Night Valley. Apart from needing more experience and knowledge, you’re already above rookie level in terms of skill.”

Yu Sheng shrugged. “No big deal. We all have to learn by doing.”

He looked thoughtfully at the girl in the red coat. “By the way, I’ve just noticed… you’ve got a habit of looking after others, don’t you?”

Little Red Riding Hood raised an eyebrow. “Why do you say that?”

“Well,” Yu Sheng said with a slight grin, “usually you’re quite calm and distant. But when you start a job, you talk a lot, especially about what we should watch out for. When you lead newbies like us, it’s like you turn into a… team mom.”

Little Red Riding Hood paused, and for a moment her expression became strangely complicated. She made a small, dismissive sound and continued walking without another word.

After a few paces, she spoke again. “You understand the basics about depth and threat levels now, right?”

“Sure,” Yu Sheng said, nodding. “Depth is how far from reality the place is. Threat level is how dangerous it is. Simple enough.”

Little Red Riding Hood inclined her head. “That’s close enough. The Museum’s depth is L-2. At that level, the environment clearly doesn’t match our normal world, and it can be very risky for ordinary people. Still, it’s stable most of the time and follows certain rules. Nothing bad should happen if we obey those rules…”

Yu Sheng finished her thought for her: “And threat level two means it won’t try to kill us outright. There’s no random, mindless malice. But if we break the rules, there’s still a real chance we’ll get hurt or even die.”

Little Red Riding Hood allowed herself a small smile. “You’ve remembered it well. Good. That means I don’t have to worry too much.”

They had reached the old theater’s entrance. Beyond the rusty iron door was a hall with dark green tiles. On either side of the hall were passageways leading deeper into the building. Opposite the entrance stood several old ticket booths, now shrouded in darkness. ℝ

But what drew Yu Sheng’s eye first was a strange machine placed in the center of the hall. It looked like a blocky metal pillar of blackish-gray steel, narrower at the top and wider at the bottom, rising about as high as his waist. A few dim lights flickered at its top, and from inside came a low, buzzing hum. It seemed very much alive, in its own quiet, mechanical way.

“This is a Node,” Little Red Riding Hood explained, pointing at the metal pillar. “The full name is ‘Stabilizing Node Generator.’ The Special Affairs Bureau sets these up to keep ordinary people away from dangerous Borderland spots. It sends out a low-frequency suggestion that makes normal folks feel uneasy, preventing them from wandering in.”

Yu Sheng studied the device curiously. “There must be a lot of these around the city. I’ve never noticed them before.”

Little Red Riding Hood gave him a quick look. She almost teased him, thinking, You never would have noticed one before you awakened your spiritual sense. But she decided to hold her tongue.

Instead, she said, “They work pretty well, but nothing’s perfect. You can barricade a place with concrete, and someone will still find a way inside. Maybe they have strong willpower or unusual luck. Some people resist the Node’s influence. That’s how we end up with unlucky victims, ordinary people who stumble into Otherworlds. We have to rescue them, if we can. Sometimes they become rescue stories, sometimes they’re tragic tales for the Bureau’s records. And sometimes, after they’ve cried and screamed and recovered, they end up joining us as detectives, investigators, or Bureau agents.”

Foxy, who had been quiet, now asked, “Why not just tear the place down?”

“Tear it down?” Little Red Riding Hood shook her head, surprised at the question. “That would be a terrible idea. The Otherworld doesn’t actually exist in our world. This building holds a known entrance. If we destroy this spot, who knows where the Otherworld’s doorway might appear next? It could show up somewhere completely uncontrolled, and that would be far worse.”

Yu Sheng had to admit she made sense. Humans were drawn to danger with unending curiosity. It was better to have a known point of entry than to unleash chaos by destroying it.

While he reflected on this, Little Red Riding Hood stepped closer to the Node and waved her identification card over the top. “Logging our entry,” she said. “If we die in there, at least someone will know where to look for our bodies. Once you enter an Otherworld, you lose contact with the outside. Registering here is like leaving your last footprint in the real world.”

Yu Sheng nodded, stepping forward to register, as did Irene and Foxy. He smiled wryly. “Good thing I got them IDs as well…”

A soft buzzing sound came from the Node as each of them checked in.

Afterward, Little Red Riding Hood led them past the Node, heading straight to the far end of the hall where the old ticket booths waited in silence. The theater had been abandoned for ages. The booths were dusty and broken, some sealed haphazardly with plastic tape. One had been stripped empty, now a storage spot for useless junk. Another still held a dusty ticket machine inside, its purpose long forgotten—at least by ordinary standards.

Little Red Riding Hood stopped before the booth with the old ticket machine. She checked her phone for the time, waited a few minutes, then rapped her knuckles gently against the glass.

“Night show, Museum Night. Four tickets,” she said clearly.

Suddenly, the dark booth changed. Though its lightbulbs had shattered long ago, a warm glow now spread inside, as if an unseen clerk had been waiting patiently all this time. The old ticket machine inside began to hum softly. Its rollers, empty and silent for countless nights, now turned slowly. Inch by inch, it printed out tickets, delivering them with a strange and gentle creak.