The world around him froze in place.
Yu Bai blinked in a daze, looking left and right with a bewildered expression.
Everything—scenery, people—was completely motionless. The round black-and-white Go pieces, the flower wreath ribbons that should have been swaying in the breeze, the little bird that had been flying past the door… all of it suspended in this single instant.
Still reeling from the shock, Yu Bai subconsciously reached out and poked Yan Jing on the forehead.
Yan Jing, frozen mid-grin with that excited, dopey smile, didn’t react at all—like a lifelike wax figure. His eyes held a crystal-clear stupidity, his skin still radiated normal human warmth, and it even yielded slightly under Yu Bai’s poking finger.
Time had really stopped.
…Though this wasn’t exactly the kind of stop he had in mind.
He just wanted the surrounding commotion to die down, but this was a bit too thorough.
And besides.
Yu Bai turned back to those gray-blue eyes he hadn’t seen all night, and sure enough, he spotted the apology rippling within them.
So he blurted out on reflex, “I’m not mad at you.”
This guy definitely thought the anger on his face was aimed at him.
“You arrived… not too fast, not too slow. Just right.”
Subjectively, it had felt a little late to him, but objectively, it really wasn’t—just five minutes.
Yu Bai spoke softly, but in the utter silence of that space, his voice rang out with exceptional clarity.
Xie Wufang seemed to relax at that. He took a step closer and asked, “Then why are you mad?”
“Because of ch—cough, never mind. It’s not important.”
Yu Bai caught himself just in time and changed the subject. “They can’t hear our conversation, right?”
“They can’t hear.” Xie Wufang paused. “Their time is paused.”
It wasn’t just inside the Funeral Parlor—Yu Bai sensed that the world outside had gone quiet too.
“Did you pause the entire world?”
“Yeah.” The man’s tone was utterly casual. “Everything on this planet has stopped.”
He thought for a moment, then added, “Except you.”
…Don’t say something so utterly unscientific and inhuman like it’s no big deal!!
And yeah, this guy really was some kind of higher-dimensional alien.
He hoped he wasn’t actually here to invade Earth.
In a complicated frame of mind, Yu Bai asked, “Will this have any side effects?”
It wouldn’t trigger another time loop or something weird like that, would it?
“If it’s just a brief stop, there won’t be any side effects.”
Yu Bai grew a little worried. “How brief is brief?”
“I’m not entirely sure.” Xie Wufang pondered human units of time with serious consideration. “…A few centuries?”
Yu Bai silently drew in a sharp breath.
He had been expecting an answer like a few seconds and was already bracing for whatever bizarre aftereffects might crop up later.
A few centuries??
Now that was brief!
Dazed, he said, “You don’t need to stop it for that long.”
Xie Wufang nodded slightly. “Should I resume the flow of time now?”
“Wait!”
In this frozen world—where he could do whatever he wanted as the only human still able to move—Yu Bai ended up doing two things.
Standing there in the somber Funeral Parlor, he first fixed Xie Wufang with a tense stare and asked hesitantly, “Can you bring the dead back to life?”
Worried the man might not understand, he clarified, “I mean, make humans who’ve already died appear in the world again.”
But the man soon replied with regret in his voice, “The lives that have passed on are no longer here.”
Yu Bai acknowledged this without too much disappointment, lowered his eyes, and turned to look for something.
He had come here to play with Yan Jing often since childhood, so he knew the place like the back of his hand. He slipped into the staff break room with ease and found a clean, new towel.
Then Yu Bai returned to Yan Jing’s motionless side. He balled up the towel and stuffed it into Yan Jing’s gaping mouth. With a vengeful punch for good measure, he turned to Xie Wufang. “Can you resume him first? Just him alone?”
“Sure.”
The next second, Yan Jing—who had been rigid as a wax figure—sprang back to life.
Carried forward by the inertia of his earlier instinct, he kept right on talking. He got out the first syllable of that five-word lame joke—”ch”—before the rest dissolved into muffled grunts: “Mmmph! Mmmphmmph!”
Yu Bai let out a breath of relief beside him.
Yan Jing, utterly baffled by the towel suddenly crammed in his mouth, whipped his head around in sudden panic and pleaded for help. “Mmmph! Mmmphmmphmmph—”
“Quit mmphing.” Yu Bai cut him off coldly. “Your hands aren’t tied. Take the towel out yourself.”
Yan Jing froze for a second, then looked down at his perfectly mobile hands.
“…Oh. Sorry, didn’t notice.”
He pinched the towel as he pulled it from his mouth, staring at it in disbelief. “Wait, why the hell did a towel just pop up in my mouth?”
Yu Bai’s expression was stone-cold. “Because even the heavens couldn’t stomach your lame joke.”
“What the hell? Oh, right—what’d you yell over there earlier? Also, I feel like I just got punched or something… And why is everyone frozen stiff like that—”
Yan Jing finally snapped out of it and registered the weirdness around him. His jaw dropped.
“Holy shit, has the world glitched out?!”
In the Funeral Parlor, where every person and object stood utterly still, it seemed like only he and Little Bai could move.
…And then there was the blue-eyed man across from them, gazing over with a quiet intensity.
It was a cold, unearthly beauty—a gray-blue hue that didn’t belong to any human.
Yan Jing shivered despite himself and took a huge step back. With practiced ease, he shrank behind Yu Bai.
Remembering the super-natural sight from a week ago, when the exploded kitchen had mysteriously restored itself—even someone as dense as him could guess that whatever was happening now had everything to do with Little Bai’s enigmatic neighbor.
Space restoration, time suspension… terrifying powers.
So it really was a higher-dimensional alien invasion of Earth?!
As his mind raced with wild theories, Yu Bai—who had a normal, somewhat slender build—couldn’t fully shield the muscular fitness trainer behind him. The scene turned absurdly comical once more.
In this timespace, Yan Jing ought to rank among the strongest of humans physically, yet this was twice he’d laid eyes on Xie Wufang—and twice he’d reacted the exact same way.
Yu Bai couldn’t help but cover his face.
…Talk about embarrassing.
He’d lost face for all of humanity!
So he glanced back over his shoulder and added some revenge to the mix. “I remember you saying last time that he looks like he couldn’t train as well as you—that you could take ten of him with one punch.”
Xie Wufang, who had been quietly listening to their exchange, seemed to grasp that the “he” in question was himself. In a calm voice, he asked, “Me?”
“No no no! I never said that!”
Yan Jing’s legs went weak. For once, his brain kicked into overdrive, and the fawning charm he usually reserved for gym clients came pouring out. “Bro, absolutely not! You gotta believe me! Oh, right—how should I address you, bro?”
“…”
Xie Wufang was clearly taken aback by the speed of this human face-change. He paused for a beat, then actually answered the question. “Xie Wufang.”
With his survival instincts in overdrive, Yan Jing was quick on the uptake. He scooped up the little black box—full of Go pieces—that Yu Bai had set down on the floor earlier while picking them up, and offered it to the intimidating non-human with both hands.
“Got it, Brother Xie! What brings you here? Picking up the Doom Orb to take home—”
Yu Bai couldn’t stand to watch any longer. He snatched the box back and cut in. “His name’s Yan Jing. He’s my friend… my best friend.”
Even though right now, he really didn’t want to admit it.
No introduction he’d ever made between these two in any loop had hit quite as hard as exchanging names did in the middle of a global standstill.
…And none had been anywhere near as humiliating as this one.
The man across from them considered this thoughtfully. “Your best friend?”
Yu Bai instinctively started to explain, but suddenly he wasn’t sure what exactly that question was getting at.
The “best,” or the “friend”?
Unsure how to put it into words, he switched topics instead. “Oh, right—I’m Yu Bai. The Yu from ‘melancholy.'”
In this eerie, frozen timespace, they’d never actually exchanged names. Sure, after the Doom Orb’s mutation, Xie Wufang had said he felt familiar—but there were no specific memories attached…
Before he could finish, though, Xie Wufang softly continued for him. “The Bai from ‘white.'”
Yu Bai froze.
Before the shock and fluster could fully show on his face, Xie Wufang quickly added, “I haven’t remembered any specifics. That phrase just feels familiar.”
Ever since he’d accidentally learned that Xie Wufang disliked white, Yu Bai had introduced himself this way every single time they met.
…After all, the most common phrase with “bai” was “white.”
So in the looped worlds, however many times they’d met, he’d said those exact words almost as many times.
Before Yu Bai could respond, the blue-eyed man in the white shirt suddenly added, “I don’t dislike white.”
It was a reply to what Yu Bai had said last night when shoving him out the door.
Yan Jing, off to the side, couldn’t follow their conversation at all. He stayed extra quiet, squatting on the ground to minimize his presence as he looked back and forth between them with wide eyes.
To be fair, he thought Brother Xie had looked a little like he was lying when he said those words.
Ahem, just a tiny bit, really.
But upon hearing those perfectly ordinary words, Little Bai blushed again!
His skin was naturally pale, and since he spent most of his time cooped up at home, it had a striking, cool-toned whiteness that stood out in any crowd. With his light-colored hair and eyes, he had an almost ethereal, translucent quality to him. So even a faint flush on his cheeks was glaringly obvious.
…It really wasn’t hot here!
Yan Jing scratched his head in silent confusion.
A burst of shame hit Yu Bai like an explosion, and he abruptly changed the subject. He opened the small box in his hand, which was still radiating a faint heat. “Ah, that… let’s take a look at the Doom Orb.”
“Doom Orb?”
Yu Bai tried to gloss it over. “It’s the gift you gave me. I named it… and I brought it out for a stroll today.”
As he spoke, Xie Wufang caught sight of the Blue Orb nestled inside the box.
Yan Jing, who had just learned the orb’s true origins, was utterly shocked. He inwardly condemned Little Bai’s outrageous lie but didn’t dare say a word. He simply strained to eavesdrop.
Yu Bai went on. “But then an accident happened. The body that was supposed to be incinerated over there wouldn’t catch fire no matter what. At the same time, the Doom Orb got really hot, like it had stolen the fire from the furnace.”
“I remember you saying this orb can only be used once. Why did it heat up? Did it suck in the fire and store it?”
Yu Bai started to hand over the Doom Orb for a closer look, but Xie Wufang didn’t reach for it.
His gray-blue eyes fixed on the rich blue hues subtly swirling across the orb’s surface. After a moment, he said softly, “I can’t take it. It’s repelling me.”
Stunned, Yu Bai froze. Yan Jing, eavesdropping intently, whipped his head around in shock.
Did the Doom Orb really have a life of its own?!
Still dazed, Yu Bai asked, “Didn’t you say it was just a storage device that could preserve things for a long time?”
“Yes, but it seems to have stored something very special, so it’s undergone an unusual change.”
“I’ve never seen anything like this before… It’ll take some time to figure out.”
As Xie Wufang spoke, his gaze drifted faintly over their surroundings, taking in the scenery—including Yan Jing, who was crouched on the ground with his eyes wide open, listening raptly.
In the next instant, Yan Jing froze like a statue once more.
And so, in the vast, motionless world, only the two of them remained alive and animated.
Amid Yu Bai’s astonishment, the man before him suddenly said, “You’re avoiding me.”
…He had seen right through it.
Last night, he had claimed he needed to sleep and shooed the man away, only to sneak out the door right after. He still hadn’t gone back.
Such a lame excuse clearly hadn’t fooled the sharp mind next door.
In the silence, Xie Wufang asked him seriously, “Is it because in some other timespace, I did something to you?”
He seemed already prepared to apologize, even if the reason for the avoidance remained a mystery for now.
Yu Bai instinctively looked away from his gaze and murmured, “…No.”
If anything, it was he who had done something to Xie Wufang.
But unlike his own timid evasion, the man standing so close remained utterly straightforward.
Having gotten his answer, he continued in his usual even tone.
The only sound flowed through the silent, blue-tinged world.
“Will you go home today?”
