Chapter 1: Ding Mo

In the year 2020 of the human era, a strange trend emerged across various nations.

The devotees were extremely fanatical, even bordering on madness, which was unsettling:

Many devotees, in order to show their "uniqueness," actually went to toilets to scoop up feces!

Some people wore rabbit masks all day long, treating them as their own "faces"! Whether at work or school, they were unwilling to take them off even while sleeping.

If someone tried to pull them off, no matter how good-tempered "he" originally was, he would go as crazy as if he wanted to kill! There were not a few who even beat such people into cripples!

Even more extreme, some even painted pigments on their naked bodies to serve as invisible "clothes," running naked on the streets like this, calling it "this is true pure beauty."

At that time, the vast majority of society strongly criticized this and called on the government to immediately stop related or similar "distorted trends."

People also originally thought that the authorities would immediately and strictly stop it.

But strangely, after a period of time passed, everyone discovered that there was no sign of the trend being stopped at all.

The government only repeatedly told the public: do not participate, do not pay attention, and report it if encountered.

Other than that, there was no action taken.

Therefore, everyone later just regarded it as a bizarre trend. Public attention gradually shifted.

Five years later, now in 2025, the shadow of that trend has gradually dissipated, its influence has gradually weakened, and everyone thinks the matter is over.

I initially thought so too...

Until I joined them.

Inside a sealed, narrow observation room.

Ding Mo, with blood-red eyes, placed his hands on an archaic Typewriter.

Rubbing the rust spots on the keys, his fingers began to tap rapidly!

Clack-clack-clack-clack-clack-clack-clack-clack-clack-clack-clack-clack-clack-clack!

Rather than calling it "tapping," it was more like "pummeling"!

Before coming in, he had already learned the operation of this machine—actually, there was no difficulty at all; one only needed to tap continuously, even if pressing randomly or just pressing the same key, until the Typewriter spat out paper.

The metallic friction sound of the key rollers echoed in the cramped room.

All around were a group of men in black surrounding him.

In their hands, the pitch-black muzzles of their guns were pointed at Ding Mo without a moment's pause, as if the person sitting in front of them was not a human, but a ferocious beast!

During this process, Ding Mo could occasionally feel that something invisible had appeared beside him! Staring at him!

He gritted his teeth and resisted looking, instead shifting his gaze to pull out the paper that had already been printed completely from the machine, reading it rapidly.

The eerie thing was that even though Ding Mo had been typing randomly, the paper actually contained logically coherent sentences!

As follows:

"You are named Ding Mo, a taxi driver who likes cigarettes and banknotes. You receive customers late at night to earn extra fare.

"You are working on Luanzang Road tonight, a road once named for the many graves built on both sides, but now replaced by high-rise buildings.

"You have discovered that there are an unusually large number of customers who do not return home tonight, so you have decided to work overtime and work until... 3:00 AM!"

"!?" Ding Mo's eyelids twitched as he read.

He only knew that he had to read the words on it after it was typed out, but he hadn't expected there to actually be content on it!

"Mr. Ding." Among the group of men in black, the middle-aged man leading them suddenly spoke.

He said:

"Next, you will be thrown into a Different Space to execute a Task."

"After completion, you can return and eliminate the Pollution on your body,

"And then be temporarily safe..."

The room was very quiet, but Ding Mo was struggling to hear his words clearly—

Because, in his eyes, the world had begun to distort! The middle-aged man's words came as if through a layer of glass. The eerie tone, as if slowed down, was extremely strange.

I must... complete the Task...?

The next instant, Ding Mo's entire body suddenly became motionless.

Then, his entire body was like pigment erased by an eraser on paper,

Wiped away from the canvas named "World"!

"..."

Watching his disappearance, the middle-aged man breathed a sigh of relief, and the others around also lowered their guns and engaged the safeties.

Immediately, the middle-aged man took out a file, seemingly to confirm once more:

【【File Number: HCSD-1997-γ-441】

【Record Subject: Ding Mo (Student of the Civil Engineering Department at Hongbei Zhongyin Daxue)】

【Age & Gender: 22 & Male】

【Social Relations: Parents passed away due to an accident, no siblings, lives alone, has a girlfriend named Lin Yao.】

【Event Overview:

The individual named Ding Mo, while working during summer vacation, joined the Pollution point "Tonglian Suyu" sorting station.

The individual discovered at the sorting station that all employees wore silicone pig-head masks and wore uniform black slim-fit suits; they could communicate, but their cognition had suffered severe Pollution.】

【Ding Mo individual Alienation/Pollution progress:

Day 1: Felt very strange and incongruous;

Day 2: The sense of strangeness and incongruity slightly lessened;

Day 4: Began unconsciously imitating pig-headed colleagues; Day 6: Searched online late at night for "pig-head mask/custom suit";

Day 7: Took the initiative to report (Cognitive Resistance rating: B+)】

【Processing result:

1. Site sealed—19 employees confirmed as deep Polluters (transferred to ■■■■ facility for memory erasure);

2. Subject Ding Mo—due to shallow level of Pollution and high resistance, it is proposed he use the "Typewriter"... Proposal passed.】

【Appendix:...】

】

I do not know how much time had passed,

"Hoo—!" Ding Mo took a deep breath and suddenly regained consciousness!

He was like a drowning person who had just escaped from the deep sea, his lung lobes expanding violently, emitting a wheezing sound like a broken bellows!

Every breath of air was still wrapped in a faint scent of nicotine.

His ten fingers spasmed as he clawed at the steering wheel, and the dim yellow streetlights swaying before his eyes told him one thing—

He was currently driving a car, traveling along a main road.

"This, this..." Ding Mo struggled to steady the steering wheel, his eyes revealing disbelief.

He had no idea what kind of existence that Typewriter was, to have actually thrown him into a Different Space!

And it even allowed him to learn how to drive, something he could never learn before?

He was now like a veteran driver with decades of experience. Starting, shifting gears, and pressing the clutch were all incredibly proficient.

On the dark road, Ding Mo sat inside the car, which was so quiet that only the sound of the motor remained, the light of the streetlamps scattering across his neck, which was secreting beads of cold sweat.

That "Typewriter" was bizarre beyond his comprehension!

However... Ding Mo tried hard to inhale, attempting to calm himself down.

Previously, the sorting station in his predecessor's memories was also very bizarre, and compared to Ding Mo's transmigration, this was not even a strange matter...

That's right!

Ding Mo lifted his eyelids and sized up the road ahead.

He, Ding Mo, was actually a transmigrator!

At least that was what he himself believed.

In his world, there were no bizarre trends or Pollution, people lived peaceful and contented lives, occasionally concerning themselves with the open and secret struggles between countries, their days busy and peaceful.

It was far from being as bizarre and desperate as this world!

And the original Ding Mo of this world had actually not succeeded in reporting the sorting station; he had been discovered and killed by a pig-headed employee before that.

At least that was what his "memory" told him.

The subsequent report was actually completed by him.

Ding Mo touched the ligature marks on his neck—those were the marks left when the predecessor was forcibly sewn into a pig-head mask by the employees before dying.

The current him was a ghost who had borrowed a corpse to return to life.

Or rather, he should be a ghost who had borrowed a corpse to return to life...