Doomsday Wonderland Chapter 1245: Bohemia Hates Ghost Stories the Most…

Chapter 1245: Bohemia Hates Ghost Stories the Most…

Bohemia had been increasingly irritable lately. Lin Sanjiu had been absent for five or six days, roaming freely like an unleashed dog, without making a sound. How could it possibly take this long to reach Bear City, which was just half a day’s journey away? Could Bear City truly be as big as the bubble in Lin Sanjiu’s head?

She wouldn’t be so foolish as to fall into the lava again, right?

Tomorrow morning, she would seize an opportunity to discuss it and set out to search for her. Truly, Bohemia’s survival was dependent on Lin Sanjiu. It was akin to a diary of a low-intelligence orphan, spanning twenty or thirty years and showing no sign of concluding.

Bohemia s.h.i. fted inside her sleeping bag and let out a deep sigh within the confines of the dark tent. If Lin Sanjiu abandoned her like this and left her to Puppeteer sir… Puppeteer, well, she would even dig Lin Sanjiu out of a grave if she had to, just to make dried bacon.

At the mere mention of bacon, Bohemia’s stomach growled audibly.

Indeed, part of her irritability was caused by hunger. Her temper always took a nosedive when she was hungry. Unfortunately, she couldn’t afford to lose her temper; she had to serve Puppeteer sir with utmost care and obedience. This only served to further exacerbate her bottled-up emotions. When evening fell, and the tent curtain was drawn, Bohemia felt her emotions simmering inside her, like a pot of explosives on the brink of detonation.

Normally, she couldn’t afford to display any signs of frustration. After all, she had been alone with Puppeteer for an extended period, and she was still alive. Each pa.s.sing hour felt like she had achieved some sort of record.

When she returned to Twelve Worlds Centrum, she planned to inquire if there were any records to confirm her claim. Perhaps she should gather some evidence to support her words. Even if it was a piece of chewed gum she had kept for an extended period, Puppeteer shouldn’t object to her producing it as proof. Yes, gum…

Bohemia’s consciousness slowly began to drift into that hazy state between wakefulness and sleep. She smacked her lips a few times.

In the quiet of the night, the occasional rustle of the wind against the tent fabric created a hoa.r.s.e sound. Wrapped in two sleeping bags and nestled in a tent warmed by the campfire, Bohemia found it easy to drift off to sleep. Serving Puppeteer was no small task, and she felt a bit exhausted, but the advantage was having Puppeteer was akin to having a Tibetan mastiff guarding the yard; it made her feel secure at night.

Perhaps the surroundings were too comfortable and tranquil. It wasn’t until a faint voice echoed once more that Bohemia slowly regained her consciousness and opened her eyes.

What?

She poked her head out of her sleeping bag and looked around in the darkness but found nothing. It was quiet, and there was no sound of breathing except for her own.

With a whoosh, the faint sound rang again, this time clearer and closer.

Bohemia abruptly sat up, and there it was—the tent zipper, concealed by the darkness, with only a faint white line visible. In this moment, that dim white zipper was slowly descending, revealing a few slender shadows resembling fingers.

Someone was unzipping the tent from the outside.

The zipper was being drawn inward, but now it was being opened from the exterior. Bohemia instinctively covered her mouth, and for an instant, even the hairs on her neck stood on end. She willed herself to remain motionless. As the zipper continued its descent, a pair of eyes emerged through the gap and disappeared.

No sound of breathing, not even the rustle of clothing against the tent fabric. It was as if a mist enveloped the exterior of the tent, and only the eyes and fingers emerged from the mist, reaching out into the darkness. How could even Puppeteer not detect this presence? Who could it be? A duoluozhong, perhaps? What was their purpose?

Bohemia held her breath, suppressing her panic, and used the noise of the zipper being drawn down to quietly inch her way out of the sleeping bag. Before long, she had crawled halfway out. Regardless of the ident.i.ty of the person outside the tent, their caution suggested they did not want to be discovered. Whoever they were wary of, Bohemia knew that the moment the zipper reached the bottom, she could disrupt their ambush.

However, as she moved, her actions became slightly more p.r.o.nounced. Suddenly, the zipper halted, and the pale fingertips swiftly retreated from the dark crevice.

“Bohemia?”

A voice she had never heard before echoed in the dark night, soft, deliberate, and unhurried.

Bohemia’s skin crawled. Did this person know her? Was the pale figure outside her tent inching closer while she slept?

“Are you awake?” The gentle voice drew nearer, and the tent fabric dipped inward, revealing the vague outline of a person’s features. “Follow me quietly, and don’t make a sound.”

‘Don’t make a sound?! h.e.l.l, no!’

Bohemia leaped out of her sleeping bag suddenly and raised her hand to send a Higher Consciousness wave at the tent door. Surprisingly, Lin Sanjiu’s method of using Higher Consciousness as a blunt force object proved effective in certain situations. However, she thought she had emitted a warning sound, but her throat was so parched that not a single sound escaped. It wasn’t until Higher Consciousness burst through the tent door with a resounding bang that she finally exhaled. It felt as if she had struck a gust of wind, and Higher Consciousness pa.s.sed through the figure and dissipated.

What the heck was that?

For a moment, Bohemia wanted to shout ‘Sir,’ but her instinctive reaction led her to peek outside. In the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of a faint, swaying white figure. She couldn’t make her voice come out—she’d rather be surrounded by a hundred duoluozhong or a thousand posthumans—no, it couldn’t be that thing; it must be some posthuman’s technique—

A completely pale face suddenly descended from above, coming to rest not far from her eyes. The humanoid figure had just risen to its feet, and now it was stooping toward her.

“Don’t hit me,” the voice whispered into her ear, devoid of anger, as if sapping half the warmth from her ear. “I’m here on Lin Sanjiu’s behalf to find you.”

That’s it. Lin Sanjiu was dead, just as she suspected. Even in death, she wouldn’t leave her in peace!

Bohemia felt anger welling up inside her. She landed on all fours, lunged forward like a ferret, and swiftly emerged from the tent. A faint, nearly vanis.h.i. ng, pale figure also straightened up. Before she could react, the figure gestured toward the forest beside the road and murmured, “Look, Lin Sanjiu is over there.”

‘Only a fool would blindly follow your pointing finger,’

Bohemia thought while involuntarily turning her head. Just as she sensed something was amiss, the pale figure remained motionless. Her wary gaze was immediately drawn to the forest in the dark night, hovering on the border between the deep green and pitch-black woods.

Beyond the highway fence, Lin Sanjiu stood in the distant woods, waving to her.