I’m Trapped in a Cube - Chapter 151

“Did I transmigrate?”

When the young man asked this question, Martin’s figure instantly appeared, standing beside him.

“Hello, I’m Martin. It’s been three minutes since you came to this world. Please do as I say.”

“Close your eyes, then silently repeat ‘this is a dream,’ count to three, then open your eyes.”

The young man was startled by Martin’s sudden appearance and stepped back several paces.

“Is this a dream? No wonder,” he muttered to himself.

Martin didn’t pay attention to his muttering but stepped forward and pinched his arm.

“No pain sensation, it really seems like a dream,” the young man murmured.

Martin continued asking, “Do you remember how you got here? Are you familiar with the surroundings? Have you noticed your sense of smell has failed?”

While speaking, Martin picked up a nearby trash can and held it in front of the young man.

The young man was forced to step back, but he seemed to realize the trash can had no smell at all.

“What you’re saying seems correct.”

Martin had somehow blocked the young man’s senses.

After noticing something was wrong, the confusion and gravity completely disappeared from the young man’s face. He said relaxedly, “So it’s a dream. This dream is really interesting, someone actually reminds me I’m dreaming, but I don’t really want to wake up yet.”

This obviously wasn’t the result Martin wanted.

As soon as the young man finished speaking, Martin raised his arm, took out a surgical knife and slashed viciously, blood spurting out and splashing on the young man’s face.

This time, the young man’s relaxed expression instantly vanished. His whole body trembled as he quickly closed his eyes and began chanting.

“One, two, three.”

The young man disappeared. Martin casually pressed his blood onto the nearby materials, making the surroundings chaotic.

Then Martin returned to the room, closed the door, watched as a young man reappeared on the chair, followed by guards knocking on the door, the young man throwing the flower pot, and jumping out the window to escape.

The plot here completely matched what Martin had said before, back on track.

“What was wrong with that ‘Martin’ just now?” Mo Ling asked quietly.

“That was Number 0, just generated, with memories from who knows where. He’s the one we need to save.”

“Number 0?” Mo Ling was confused.

“Yes, this is Dream Layer 1,” Martin said while gripping Mo Ling’s hand and explaining.

After Martin entered the dream, the Martin on Layer 1 would go down to Layer 2, the one on Layer 2 to Layer 3, and so on.

But this created a flaw, where did the Martin on Layer 1 come from?

The answer was Layer 0.

“I’m taking you to Layer 0 now to save him. We must treasure time there, time passes very quickly,” Martin seemed somewhat tired.

Only then did Mo Ling notice his glass jar had some slight cracks, the kimchi generation speed inside had become very slow, and the tentacles appearing from thin air were becoming fewer and fewer.

“Are you okay?” Mo Ling asked with concern.

“I’m fine. Don’t waste time,” Martin gripped Mo Ling’s hand tightly, pulled, and brought Mo Ling into a void.

“This is Layer 0.”

Mo Ling looked at the scene before him in shock.

Countless beds extended into the distance, while above was a dense mass of constantly floating text, rising and falling like ocean waves.

These two parallel seas floated in endless void, from what great creator’s hand, no one knew.

Looking at that text, Mo Ling couldn’t help murmuring, “Is the world really a book?”

“Whether you believe it or not,” Martin’s voice was very weak. “Don’t worry about it now, look over there.”

He pointed to a familiar figure in the sea of beds.

It was young Martin, sitting on his bed, looking fearfully at everything around him. Those people lying on beds and the oppressive textual canopy made him unable to breathe.

Seeming to think he was still dreaming, he covered his chest and kept opening and closing his eyes, but couldn’t wake up no matter what.

“The tide is about to recede,” Martin said flatly, looking at the canopy.

With his words, the sea of text slowly descended, about to press down on the beds.

“What I need you to help me with is destroying his bed,” Martin said, pulling Mo Ling and stepping on the bodies of countless sleeping people, heading toward the young man’s bed.

At first Mo Ling was careful, worried he might damage these people.

But he soon discovered these sleeping people’s bodies were hard as stone and seemed firmly welded to their beds, like unified sculptures.

“Step anywhere, these are all empty shells,” Martin comforted.

Coming before the young man, Martin pointed to the bed and asked, “Your ability should be able to do this, right?”

He didn’t urge, but Mo Ling could still feel the anxiety in his tone, and the cracks on the glass jar were becoming more and more obvious.

“I’ll try.”

Aiming the teleportation frame at that narrow bed, Mo Ling activated his ability.

Fortunately, teleportation didn’t fail at the crucial moment. The bed under the young man instantly disappeared, appearing in the Cube.

The young man suddenly lost support and fell through the void.

“Thank you,” Martin said gratefully.

Mo Ling watched the continuously falling young man and asked worriedly, “What about him?”

“Other Martins will catch him. If we don’t destroy his bed, he’ll be trapped here forever. Even if he jumps down, it’s useless, he’ll be forcibly pulled back and eventually crushed to death by the canopy. Then all the Martins would die.”

“You’re the first person I’ve found who can destroy this kind of bed. Saving him means saving all of us.”

Mo Ling looked at the still-descending textual canopy and asked, “Where did he come from, Layer -1?”

Martin also looked up following Mo Ling’s gaze. After a moment of silence, he helplessly shook his head. “Who knows?”

He gripped Mo Ling’s hand again and said, “Let me send you back.”

While speaking, he pulled Mo Ling and jumped off the bed. In the blink of an eye, that sea of beds appeared above them.

Martin’s bed space was completely empty, very conspicuous in the endless sea—the only gap.

“What exactly do those beds do?”

Mo Ling looked at the constantly receding sea of beds while comparing it to the bed in his Cube, but couldn’t see anything extraordinary about it.

In mid-air, Martin’s glass jar cracked even more obviously, with some glass fragments slowly peeling off.

Just as Mo Ling was worried, a suddenly appearing hand grabbed his other arm and pulled hard.

After the scenery changed again, Mo Ling found himself standing in the Black Tower.

Seeing everything before him, Mo Ling froze in place.

There were Martins everywhere, countless strange figures wearing robes with kimchi glass jars on their heads were watching him.

Colorful tentacles writhed in their heads. In the dim Black Tower, these glass jars were like glowing colored lights. Mo Ling turned to look, the person who had just grabbed him was also a Martin.

“Hello, I’m Martin Number 736. Thank you for your help.”

He bowed deeply to Mo Ling.