DIM Chapter 2

Several white vans came to a halt.

Some were easily identifiable, their police siren lights spinning rapidly with red and blue flashes. Another white van bore only a simple triangular emblem on its side.

The security officers wore serious expressions, their postures cautious, and their firearms never left their hands.

In contrast, the people who stepped out of the white van appeared calm and carried nothing in their hands.

“All the cameras along Haiyu Road were destroyed. Headquarters contacted us five minutes ago—this is the spot,” said a buzz-cut officer named Tian Bin, who had previously been in charge of the “4·21” serial murder case. The suspect they were now pursuing was the anomaly.

Tian Bin glanced at a handsome man with a high ponytail, wearing a white T-shirt. “The bureau’s threat level assessment was inaccurate. Who knew we’d need your help?”

Behind him, a young officer lowered his gun and asked cautiously, “Is he not here anymore?”

Tian Bin, “Most likely not. The [E1320] isn’t reacting.”

In his hand was a slender glass tube mounted on a small white wooden board. The tube was partially filled with a crimson liquid, resembling a thermometer.

At the end of the glass tube, where the red liquid was stored, was a closed eye. It was slowly pulsating, as if breathing.

The young security officer’s eyes lit up with envy. “Is that an anomalous item?”

“Yes, [Anomaly E1320] can detect any supernatural activity within a within a 50-meter radius.”

Tian Bin noticed the young man’s longing gaze. “The cost is that the user must provide 500cc of blood every week.”

The young man’s enthusiasm vanished, and he turned to help his team assess the casualties.

Tian Bin’s smile faded.

He looked toward the man with the high ponytail, who had stopped about ten meters away and was now gesturing for him to come over.

This man was Fei Shilan, an A-Rank investigator from the Anomaly Investigation Bureau and the current lead on this case.

As Tian Bin approached, Fei Shilan pointed to a dark mass on the ground. “Take photos of this.”

Seeing no immediate danger, Tian Bin crouched down and snapped a few pictures with his camera.

It was a pile of black, amorphous matter, writhing irregularly and emitting a foul odor. Judging by its form, it was likely another anomalous creature.

“[Anomaly E1320] isn’t reacting much. What is this?” Tian Bin asked.

Fei Shilan snorted lightly. “I suspect it’s the murderer.”

Tian Bin found that hard to believe. The suspect had killed over a dozen of their colleagues just hours ago. How could he now be reduced to this?

He leaned in closer.

Fei Shilan stopped him. “Why are you getting so close?”

Though Tian Bin had experience dealing with anomalies, he had never contained one before.

He stepped back.

Fei Shilan extended his hand, and pale blue ice crystals began to encase the writhing mass, layer by layer.

“Bring the containment box.”

Tian Bin immediately returned to the van and brought out an A-grade metal box, about half a person’s height. It was seamless, with no gaps, and bore a triangular emblem on its surface.

Fei Shilan placed his hand on the box.

The metal box, which had no visible openings, unfolded like a flower, revealing its dark interior.

Fei Shilan then looked at Tian Bin, who understood and carefully placed the ice-encased mass inside.

During this process, the previously writhing flesh lay still, showing no signs of activity.

Tian Bin breathed a sigh of relief and was about to close the box and leave when he noticed something nearby.

Upon closer inspection, it was a man’s watch.

The black dial was surrounded by a titanium-colored strap, deep and textured.

The black dial was framed by a titanium band, deep and textured, showing signs of wear along the edges. The metal clasp was missing, and the band was broken.

“Someone lost a watch,” Tian Bin said, not daring to approach it.

Fei Shilan thought for a moment. “Give me the [E1320].”

Realizing what was happening, Tian Bin handed over the “thermometer.”

Fei Shilan wiped his hands, took it, and bent down to place it half a meter from the watch.

The moment he let go, the eye at the end of the tube snapped open, its crimson pupil fixated on the watch.

The red liquid inside the tube compressed and expanded violently, then exploded, shards flying everywhere.

The liquid transformed into countless blood vessels, frantically rushing toward the watch like a skinny octopus crawling on land.

The moment they made contact, the red eyeball let out a piercing scream that shattered the air.

Tian Bin immediately covered his ears as he watched the tendrils wither and shrivel.

The desiccation spread upward, and the light in the eyeball faded before it crumbled into fine, pale red dust, carried away by the wind without a trace left on the watch.

After a long silence, Tian Bin looked at Fei Shilan, his voice strained. “What… was that?”

[Good evening, everyone. Welcome to the morning news.

First, let’s take a look at some breaking news. The “4.21” serial murder case has been solved, with the suspect shot dead by security officers during the act. It is reported that the perpetrator was responsible for at least 29 deaths, making this an extremely heinous crime…

The Security Bureau will continue to strengthen nighttime patrols and remind everyone to take precautions. Avoid going out at night unless necessary, and if you must, travel in groups…

We believe that in the future, security officers will be able to provide a safer environment, making our city even more secure!

Now, let’s move on to economic news…]

When Ruan Zhou entered, he happened to hear the broadcast from the old television on the wall.

Something felt off, but after more than 24 hours without sleep, he was too mentally exhausted to dwell on it.

“A single room,” he said, pulling two hundred yuan from his phone case and handing it over.

The receptionist, with a bright golden hair, took the money and stared at the red bills in confusion.

What kind of money is this? Divine currency?

The receptionist frowned. “Buddy, this money doesn’t look right!”

The young man had dark pupils, a pale complexion, and a somewhat thin frame, standing in the shadows like a piece of cold jade.

Ruan Zhou looked puzzled. “Huh?”

The receptionist raised his hand, about to toss the two pieces of paper back, when the space around them distorted like a snake.

Startled, he dropped the bills, which fluttered to the ground.

Ruan Zhou bent down to pick them up, placed them back on the counter, and pushed them forward. “If you suspect they’re counterfeit, you can use a bill detector.”

The receptionist glanced at his hand, then back at the bills.

The two red pieces of paper, which earlier had looked like spirit money, had now turned into normal blue hundred-yuan bills.

Had he been mistaken?

The receptionist forced a laugh. “Sorry, I must’ve been having low blood sugar earlier. Didn’t see clearly.”

“Two hundred yuan.”

Hearing the sound of the money detector, the receptionist relaxed and handed over the room key. “A standard room is 150, with a 50-yuan deposit. 200 is the exact amount. Your room is on the second floor.”

Ruan Zhou borrowed a basin from the receptionist.

As soon as he entered the room, he connected to the Wi-Fi and sent a message to his boss asking for leave.

Without waiting for a reply, he collapsed onto the bed, his consciousness slipping into darkness.

He was awakened by a “splashing” sound.

The carp he had bought from the supermarket had somehow jumped out of the basin and was flopping on the floor, gasping for air. Seeing Ruan Zhou, it seemed to flop even more vigorously.

Unsure how long it had been out, Ruan Zhou quickly returned it to the basin.

Once back in the water, the carp’s tail swished leisurely, seemingly unharmed.

Sitting on the bed, Ruan Zhou pulled out some bread and yogurt, slowly filling his stomach and feeling like he had come back to life.

His boss still hadn’t replied.

Ruan Zhou sighed. His career luck hadn’t been great. Since graduating, he’d changed jobs multiple times.

Departments at big companies dissolved, small company bosses ran off with the money, and he had filed for labor arbitration over a dozen times.

His current job, recommended by someone, had lasted four months—his longest stint yet. The only downside was the frequent 007 schedule.

The pay was average for the industry, but overall decent, so Ruan Zhou valued it highly.

The thought of missing a day’s work for no apparent reason and losing a day’s wages made Ruan Zhou feel a pang of regret.

He instinctively raised his left hand, only to realize his watch was missing.

Ruan Zhou pursed his lips. He must have lost it at the spot from last night.

His phone showed it was already 4 PM.

The map still displayed a blue arrow with the words: No network service.

It was almost time to clock out, and his boss still hadn’t replied to his WeChat.

He tried calling the company, but the phone only returned, “The number you have dialed is not in service…”

Ruan Zhou pressed his lips together.

He opened his e-wallet to top up his phone card, but the screen displayed: The number you entered is not in service.

His boss might be too busy to check his phone, and the company’s registered number might have been deactivated, but how could his own number, which he had used just yesterday, be invalid?

Ruan Zhou realized something was seriously wrong.

The receptionist noticed him coming downstairs and asked, “Is something wrong?”

The young man smiled faintly. “Do you know how to get to Happy Residential Complex?”

The receptionist thought for a moment. “Never heard of it, buddy. Are you looking for someone?”

Ruan Zhou tried a different approach. “Is this Dongxing City?”

The receptionist looked at him suspiciously. “No, this is Xinhai City.”

Ruan Zhou still refused to give up. “Our country is Xia Country, right?”

The receptionist’s expression changed. “There’s no such country. This is Yan Country. Are you okay, sir…?”

Ruan Zhou glanced at the old TV on the wall and asked softly, “Do you know where I can get online?”

Xinhai City, Anomaly Investigation Bureau.

Harsh fluorescent lights illuminated the conference room, casting stark shadows. 

Fei Shilan entered and approached the middle-aged man seated at the head of the table, greeting him with a serious tone, “Director, you requested my presence.”

“Shilan, take a seat.” The chief adjusted his glasses. “I’ve read your report, but there are a few small details I need to clarify.”

“Please go ahead.”

The director got straight to the point, mainly asking about the anomalies observed when the broken watch was discovered. He was very thorough, even noting the sounds of insects and birds in the surroundings, showcasing his extensive experience.

“Everything seemed normal until Tian Bin almost touched it. That’s when I sensed something was off,” Fei Shilan explained honestly. “I wasn’t entirely sure at the time.”

The chief stroked his chin, deep in thought.

Finally, he handed Fei Shilan a document. “Take a look at this.”

Fei Shilan took them, habitually tapped them on the table to align the edges, and then flipped through the document, skimming the contents.

[Anomaly Name: A349 – Broken Watch]

[Anomaly Description: This is a watch with a sense of history, showing only slight wear on the edges, indicating its owner cherished it deeply.

It accelerates the passage of time for any object that harbors hostility or exhibits aggressive behavior toward it. Any object subjected to this accelerated time will inevitably decay.]

[Containment Measures: The anomaly is to be placed in a 5×5 isolation chamber, with all six surfaces lined with velvet padding. It is to be monitored 24/7 by two B-rank investigators and three D-rank personnel.

The anomaly exhibits low proactive aggression. However, if it detects hostility, its reaction is aggressive. Therefore, personnel in contact with the item must use [Anomaly E213 – Cheerful Candy] to maintain a stable and calm emotional state before handling.]

The director laughed. “For now, its negative effects seem minimal, but its abilities are incredibly powerful! We finally have a way to deal with some of the more dangerous anomalies!”

Anomalies—a collective term for phenomena that humans cannot comprehend or explain scientifically.

They could be a watch, a cat, or even a location.

Their origins were unknown, their patterns of appearance unpredictable, and even their abilities require significant resources to uncover.

Since the establishment of the Anomaly Investigation Bureau, containing anomalies has always been a headache.

Xinhai City is a hotspot for cosmic oddity incidents. Now, with this new tool, the pressure would lessen, reducing the need to risk lives deciphering the bizarre rules of anomalies, and the bureau’s casualty rate would drop!

“Its presence is too subtle,” Fei Shilan said, a smile creeping into his eyes. “I initially thought someone had just dropped it by accident.”

The director patted his shoulder. “Naive. For an A-level anomaly, what kind of person must the watch’s owner be?”