Players, Please Board the Train

Names weren’t anything particularly noteworthy, but two people’s surnames were unusual: Shang.

He had seen that surname multiple times after entering Museum City, though never in prominent places. It appeared on shop signs and banners saying things like “Shang Franchise,” “Sponsored by the Shang Family,” and in small print like “Celebrating the Xth Anniversary of the Little Shop’s Cooperation with the Shang Family.”

The game background didn’t mention the name of the merchant who built Museum City, but a surname that appears so frequently on the streets should naturally belong to the builder. As a narrative thread through the dungeon, those photographs being placed here could hardly be accidental.

Xu Huo took down and examined every photograph, then selected one to keep.

Next to them were relics leftover from the plague era, including used utensils and some early versions of experimental potions. Whether they were authentic or not was unclear, but someone had definitely been here before — the items were tossed roughly into display cases and the outer glass had all been smashed.

The objects were all replicas, looking very convincing, but they were meant for guests; they wouldn’t have brought real artifacts.

What bothered Xu Huo more was a bound notebook.

The notebook was compiled by multiple people, mostly recording plague symptoms, patient conditions, and medication processes. The content repeated a lot and the handwriting was messy, changing across different time periods. The only consistent element was that most of the entries were signed by the same doctor, a doctor with the surname Shang.

The people appearing in the photos changed rapidly. At first he thought that besides deaths from infection, some had probably fled because they couldn’t cope with such a raging epidemic, but within this notebook, besides a few names of medical staff, there were occasional fragments describing their situations — basically lacking doctors and medicines, no proper treatments, and few arrivals to help. Those who did come mostly never left, except for two with the surname Shang.

There weren’t many records about these two, but judging from the signatures, one of them not only survived the decade but participated in every epidemic rescue and never had any infection record. This could be seen from the final group photo of the medical staff evacuating.Although from the age it seemed unlikely this Shang doctor was the young merchant mentioned in the background as the builder of Museum City, the game background might not be reliable. At least the note claiming the “young merchant built the city to save a hereditary family disease” was questionable.

Five years after Museum City was built, the total number of missing persons that year accounted for one-tenth of the national total. Although it didn’t say when this was exposed, it couldn’t have been too long. The builder had died of illness before being exposed and had frantically sired children during that period, which suggested the hereditary disease had high prevalence and early mortality.

But that conflicted with the photos placed in this venue. Being displayed here implied a clear connection to the Shang family. The Shang doctor was very likely a relative or direct kin of the merchant — someone devoted to service and inexplicably resistant to infectious disease.

Although hereditary diseases don’t necessarily manifest in every family member, someone who spent ten years on the epidemic front and emerged unscathed would be worth studying wherever they were, especially when all other medical staff were infected or dead.

From this perspective, the game’s background information was not just incomplete, it likely contained a great deal of misinformation.

However, the epidemic theme did line up with the Wax Figure Hall’s content.

Putting the notebook down, Xu Huo discovered some black dust on his fingers. He washed with cleaning solution but it didn’t come off, and only then did he realize he might have contracted some unknown pathogen.

That was not necessarily bad; it actually lent credibility to the notebook’s authenticity.

But someone had already rummaged through the notebook before; he wondered if anyone unlucky had already been exposed.

Yet pathogens deadly to ordinary people might not be fatal to players.

After leaving the venue, he put on gloves and walked into the adjacent Adult Psychological Treatment Room.

The treatment room’s decor didn’t match the rest of the venues. It was unusually calm and gentle; the colors and furnishings were tasteful. At first glance it looked like a real therapy room.

Xu Huo walked around the room once before stopping in the center. There was a slight echo underfoot. He sat at the desk, swept aside the items on top, peeled back a wrapped corner, and pressed a hidden button.

A floor panel beneath the desk flipped open, the chair automatically slid back, and a stairway appeared leading underground.

Although the amusement park map only marked the River Styx Ferry’s waterways, there were many gaps in the waterways. The presence of a basement made logical sense, and finding one beneath a psychological treatment room was very plausible.

Xu Huo switched on his light and went down.

To his surprise, what lay below was a very clean room. Apart from a single chair there were no decorations, and the armrests of the chair had the words “Please sit” written on them.

After testing the chair with an item, he sat down. In the blink of an eye, the surrounding walls quickly receded, expanding into a spacious living room, and folded furniture and decorative items unfolded into place.

According to Museum City’s layout, there shouldn’t have been such a large space hidden underground, let alone one with such a futuristic feel. It had to be either an illusion or something deliberately left by an outsider.

Xu Huo opened a door using the Mental World and, finding himself still standing in the living room, confirmed that this place was only a hallucination he had created.

He didn’t rush to find a way out. Instead, he began walking around the room.

Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows there was only the sea to be seen. The windows couldn’t be opened, but he could hear the sound of waves.

White leather sofas formed a square in the spacious living room, with a glass coffee table in the center. On the table sat a braided-haired doll.

The spot where he had just been seated was at the corner of the sofa.

Before he could approach, the doll on the coffee table opened its eyes and began to sing:

“The doll plays in the living room.”

“Mom is in the kitchen cooking.”

“Dad is on his way home.”

“Ding dong! Ding dong! The doorbell rings!”

“Dad forgot his keys!”

“The doll goes to open the door, its head bumps into the cabinet.”

“Mom goes to open the door, her belly hits the small knife.”

“Dad comes home and opens the door, he is lying beside the doll and Mom!”

After the song the doll closed its eyes, and at that moment the doorbell rang: “Ding dong! Ding dong!”

Xu Huo glanced toward the door, set the doll down, and walked over. Two meters from the door he suddenly felt the world go black. When he opened his eyes again he was sitting back on the sofa, in the same spot he had occupied when he first entered!

He stood up again. This time he didn’t approach the doll, but walked around the sofa into the kitchen.

There were half-chopped vegetables and meat still frozen, and one slot on the knife rack was missing a frequently used knife.

The doll in the living room began to sing again: “The doll plays in the living room.” “Mom is in the kitchen cooking.” “Dad is on his way home.” “Ding dong! Ding dong! The doorbell rings!”