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“Is this… a pocket dimension?”

Looking at the female posthuman across from him, her mouth shaped like a tiny “O”, Wu Yiliu, wearing a white robe over his upper body, sighed deeply in his heart.

Though the Changelings were sly and deceitful, the construction of the fake pocket dimension was completed on schedule. What Wu Yiliu didn’t expect was that after the utilities were hooked up, the lights turned on, and music began to play, it actually looked quite decent. He had never seen a real pocket dimension, but if a real one was a Michelin three-star experience, then this fake pocket dimension was a fast-food combo meal: greasy, cheap, abundant, and offering the kind of low-quality temptation that made one feel they could indulge without restraint.

“How should I put it?” The female posthuman looked around, feeling that something seemed off. “I feel a bit… um, I can’t quite put my finger on it…”

‘It feels a bit cheap, doesn’t it?’

Wu Yiliu added silently in his stomach, not daring to say it out loud. To control ordinary people, they were fitted with location trackers equipped with sedative needles on their ankles. The whole pocket dimension was filled with pinhole surveillance cameras. Even he and the middle-aged man standing on the other side of the candy house entrance had tiny monitors and microphones tucked into their collars to watch each other and the posthumans.

The posthumans might discover these devices, and that was fine; they wouldn’t be hidden. But if they didn’t notice, the NPCs wouldn’t voluntarily reveal them—just like many other aspects of the fake pocket dimension, the same principle applied.

The chubby man who had come in with her frowned. “It’s a bit artificial here. I feel like it’s a man-made playground.”

“This is indeed a pocket dimension,” Wu Yiliu replied with a trained NPC’s cheerful tone. “But your feeling isn’t wrong; this is also a fake pocket dimension. For example, both of us here are NPCs as well as ordinary people.”

“What do you mean?” The female posthuman furrowed her brow, looking around. The middle-aged man who had surrendered willingly was standing on the other side of the candy house door, with his hands clasped humbly in front of him. Wu Yiliu thought he probably looked the same.

“It’s just as it sounds,” Wu Yiliu said, smiling—he had heard that pocket dimension NPCs were generally friendly. “Many pocket dimensions have a theme, right? Some are amus.e.m.e.nt parks, some are playhouses, some are ocean liners… right? The theme of this pocket dimension is an artificially constructed fake pocket dimension.”

Even though it wasn’t his first time hearing this, he felt a chill as he spoke. This idea was too clever; he didn’t know who came up with it, but they seemed to understand the psychology of posthumans perfectly. A playground pocket dimension—was it a playground or a pocket dimension? A fake pocket dimension pocket dimension—was it a fake pocket dimension or a pocket dimension?

The two across from him exchanged a glance, thought for a moment, and seemed to think they understood. “So, it’s supposed to look like a fake pocket dimension; no wonder, even the name,” the chubby man muttered.

“No, no,” Wu Yiliu said. “This place is a fake pocket dimension.”

“Alright, alright,” the chubby man said, dismissing the point.

The female posthuman seemed much more relaxed, as if a knot in her mind had been untangled. “How do we clear this fake pocket dimension?”

Wu Yiliu, having proven his superior language and acting skills over the middle-aged man during training, thus handled most of the speaking roles. He immediately countered, “Clear? You want to leave?”

“Of course.” The short female posthuman’s eyes filled with caution at once.

“You two can leave the way you came now,” Wu Yiliu said, smiling until his face ached, pretending to be formal. “Tell the guard at the gatehouse on your way out. Stamp it to show that you’ve been here once, and then you can leave.”

The two posthumans didn’t move; they were not foolish. The chubby one said, “It can’t be that simple. What are the conditions? The consequences?”

“There are no conditions,” Wu Yiliu replied according to principle. “The only thing to note is that once you leave, you cannot return. You have only one chance to enter the fake pocket dimension within 14 months in this world.”

The shorter female posthuman, seeming to think straightforwardly, laughed. “Isn’t that a good thing? I wouldn’t want to enter this pocket dimension again.”

The chubby one, on the other hand, examined the candy house behind the NPC, standing on tiptoes to look over the corridor wall and see the various recreational, entertainment, and sports facilities in the distance. “No, I’m afraid it’s not like that.”

“How so?” the female posthuman said.

“Just to be clear, if you want to go, you’re free. Don’t misunderstand me,” the chubby one began. “I just think it might not be a bad thing to stay here.”

“Oh?”

Wu Yiliu maintained her smile, watching the two posthumans, step by step, unconsciously follow the Changeling’s script.

“Look at his tone,” the chubby one said. He seemed to really regard them as NPCs, talking about Wu Yiliu as if he wasn’t there. “His tone is as if not being able to enter this pocket dimension is our loss. Hey, let me ask you, what do we need to do in this pocket dimension?”

The last sentence was directed at Wu Yiliu.

“You’re not required to do anything,” Wu Yiliu answered. “Eat if you want to eat, sleep if you want to sleep, play if you want to play. We have all kinds of facilities here—saunas, casinos, bars, restaurants, hotels, cinemas, medical rooms… everything. You’re free to move between facilities as long as you don’t leave the fake pocket dimension. But within the pocket dimension, you cannot use any force or destroy the facilities.”

The two people’s eyes became brighter and brighter, and when he finished speaking, they looked as if their eyes were electrified.

“N-no way?” The female posthuman was so excited she stammered. “Is this… is this the so-called ‘recreational pocket dimension’?”

A rare and desirable recreational pocket dimension, equivalent to the posthuman version of a lottery dream. Suddenly hitting such a jackpot, both their faces turned slightly red, and the chubby one repeatedly asked, “What’s the time limit? How long can we stay?”

“As long as you want,” the middle-aged man said, finally managing to add something.

“No way, my goodness.” The female posthuman rubbed her pants, approached the candy house wall, and sniffed. The sweet scent of chocolate cookies was so enticing that Wu Yiliu could hardly resist salivating as she spoke near the wall. Not often encountering such finely crafted food from before the apocalypse, she broke off a piece and tasted it after hearing, “You can eat it, you know.” And then, she quickly finished the cookie.

Seeing that they were hooked, Wu Yiliu knew it was time to start the background story. “Let me explain. This fake pocket dimension was created by a local kind-hearted businessman. After learning about the existence of posthumans, he felt sorry for their displaced lives and started this charity project, hoping to provide a carefree oasis for posthumans in the apocalypse.”