Chapter 430: Illusions of the Museum

Through the lobby, they entered a shadowy corridor, and instantly, dim, flickering lights burst along the walls.

Bathed in that wavering, amber glow, Lu Xin quickly realized this wasn’t just an ordinary passage.

In fact, it was lined with two towering rows of bookshelves.

The shelves soared so high that from a glance, it felt as if the ceiling was at least fifty meters above.

Along each side, compartmentalized cells stood in neat rows, stretching into the distance.

Inside each cell was a glass bottle—resembling a hospital IV bag—about twenty centimeters in length, sealed with a black wooden stopper. The scattered light played softly off the bottles, their surfaces gleaming eerily like countless watching eyes along the endless rack.

Curiosity piqued, Lu Xin approached the first compartment and peered into the bottle, his expression turning to surprise.

Inside, a tiny living model of a scene unfolded.

It depicted a butcher shop complete with busy assistants and a crowd of customers. Between two meat counters, a slightly plump man in a suit, cigarette in hand and smiling, ambled back and forth, greeting familiar patrons.

Astonishingly, the figures inside were alive.

They moved and smiled with lifelike precision; up close, he could even catch the faint murmur of their conversations.

It was as if an entire butcher shop had been miniaturized and trapped inside a glass bottle.

Lu Xin observed for a good ten seconds—the scene remained vivid and unchanged, without a hint of repetition.

It was as if he were watching a live tableau from inside a butcher shop.

The only difference was that he was viewing it from outside the bottle.

He exhaled slowly and gently ran his fingers over the bottle, its cool, glassy surface confirming its material.

Frowning, Lu Xin lightly tapped the bottle twice.

“Clack, clack…”

To his astonishment, his taps set off a tremor inside the butcher shop. The figures staggered, some even toppling over as if an earthquake had struck. Many clutched their ears in shock, their eyes widening in bewildered fear, all desperately searching for the source of the disturbance.

Of course, they couldn’t see Lu Xin outside—they could only look around, utterly confused.

Then, the butcher shop’s owner, positioned at the center of the bottle, suddenly turned his gaze outward with a sinister intensity.

His eyes met Lu Xin’s through the glass, burning with anger.

His mouth moved rapidly as if cursing.

“Uh…”

Taken aback by that piercing look, Lu Xin smiled and said, “Sorry for the disturbance.”

Nearby, his Father, Mom, and Sister all turned to look at him, puzzled.

His Sister even reached out from behind him toward the bottle inquisitively.

Gently swatting her hand away, Lu Xin murmured, “Let’s check elsewhere. Maybe we’ll find something different.”

After a few steps, they reached the second compartment with another glass bottle.

Inside, a miniature diner was set up. Lu Xin observed a lithe young waitress busy tidying up leftover dishes and clearing plates from the tables. As new customers arrived, she greeted them with a warm smile, took orders, and passed handwritten menus to the kitchen through a small window.

When she handed over the menu, a hand from the kitchen window mischievously scratched her palm, slipping her a cherry tomato.

Delighted, the waitress laughed, throwing a playful glance back at the kitchen before resuming her work.

…

Lu Xin watched quietly for a moment before moving on to the third bottle.

This time, the bottle contained a scene of a family bedroom: a woman in her thirties sat on a sofa cradling a tiny infant, gently rocking him to sleep while a small pot nearby bubbled with steaming heat.

…

In the fourth bottle, the scene shifted to a riverside cutting through a town. Under a utility pole, a bashful chubby girl covered her mouth, while a tall, lean boy in a white shirt smiled as he carefully peeled away crispy fried skin from a chicken leg before softly handing the treat to her.

The girl ate timidly as the boy’s eyes shone with tender affection.

…

The fifth bottle depicted a portly man sprawled in a hazy, pink-lit room.

He had stripped down completely, his bloated figure nearly filling the bed.

Opposite him, a cool, poised woman now donned a bunny-girl bikini.

With a subtle, mischievous smile, she trailed her delicate fingers toward the reclining man.

“Uh…”

After a brief look, Lu Xin sensed something amiss.

He turned and saw Doll, eyes wide as she stared at a display screen, hastily covering her eyes.

Turning again, he found his Sister also with wide, startled eyes, the other hand quickly shielding them.

“This isn’t healthy. Let’s check the next one…”

Covering both girls’ eyes, he briskly skipped past that bottle.

…

But as he continued forward, his confusion only deepened.

The racks on either side stretched so long and deep, filled with bottles placed one after another.

Some bottles appeared newly set, while others were thickly cloaked in dust.

Yet inside each, almost identical scenes played out—a different slice of life with its own inhabitants.

If one were to sum it up, each bottle captured a snapshot of a life that was, in its own way, beautiful.

“But this place is called the Disaster Doctor Museum…”

Lu Xin halted and murmured to himself.

Looking further, the corridor seemed endless, with an infinite array of display screens.

He had come to investigate, so how was he to view it all?

“Is this an illusion, or something else entirely?”

Pausing in the corridor, Lu Xin frowned and fixed his gaze into its unfathomable depths.

“Human imagination is truly complex…”

Mom stood beside him and looked up softly, her eyes reflecting a hint of awe.

“This doesn’t seem like ordinary pollution,” she remarked.

Glancing at her, Lu Xin whispered, “If it were just ordinary contamination, I’d have reacted by now—and it might not affect you the same way. Yet, somehow, it feels as though we’ve truly arrived here…”

As he spoke, he stepped forward, scrutinizing the rough, shadowy wall.

His brow furrowed as he said, “This place feels unnervingly real, though I can’t pinpoint why.”

“Still, it feels all so fake…”

“…”

Father, standing by him, coldly scoffed, “Why bother? We could just tear this place down.”

“That’s too brutal,”

Sister interjected, clenching her fist, “Brother, let’s go find that fat man and turn him into a toy, shall we?”

Lu Xin frowned and ignored her.

Unexpectedly, Sister shot a mischievous glance at Doll and teased, “How about it…?”

For a moment, Doll hesitated…

“Absolutely not.”

Lu Xin had to break in, sternly chiding his Sister, “We need to focus on the real issue.”

He then turned to Mom, meeting her approving gaze and smile.

Assured, Lu Xin looked back at the wall and continued, “According to the Research Institute’s records, human contamination stems from one of Seven Flaws: perception, emotion, desire, cognition, instinct, memory, and self-awareness.”

“When one is contaminated or influenced, distortions in these seven aspects occur.”

“Ability Users are essentially people affected by contamination, which is why they often have issues in these very areas!”

“What we need to figure out is which of these seven aspects has been tampered with…”

“I believe there shouldn’t be such a bizarre museum here.”

“After all, when I first came here, it was nothing but wilderness.”

“And based on the records, the Technology Church arrived here barely over a week ago. Even with advanced technology, they couldn’t possibly erect such a strange structure in so short a time…”

“So, it must be fake.”

“…”

Lu Xin pressed on with his analysis, earning both adoring looks from Doll and exasperated glances from Sister.

“It’s obviously fake, yet it convinces me otherwise.”

“What kind of influence could that be?”

Muttering to himself, Lu Xin added, “Influence on perception might reach this level, but such effects are complex and ever-changing—not this subtle, nor so immense. Some Dream Weaver-type abilities can quietly pull someone into a dream, creating such an illusion, but I have enough experience to know this isn’t a dream.”

He scanned his surroundings; finding no rough glass edges, he confirmed his suspicion.

“So perhaps it’s…”

Slowly, he arrived at an answer, “Cognition?”

“Yes, a distortion in cognition is among the most profound and potent types of contamination.”

“It alters one’s understanding—making something universally repulsive seem wondrous, or vice versa.”

“Unlike perception, here both the distorted and the normal see the same thing.”

“If you can turn black into white, you can certainly make the non-existent exist.”

“Some force or influence has warped my cognition, convincing me that this museum exists…”

“Then how can I see through it?”

“…”

This increasingly deep analysis earned him a satisfied smile from Mom and a cold laugh from Father.

“Cognition has modified my mind, making me believe this fact…”

Lu Xin continued thoughtfully, recalling earlier records, “To break this influence, you need facts and logic. For instance, if you once viewed something as dark and suddenly find yourself seeing it as light…”

“The contrast gradually reverses your perception, revealing the truth.”

“And for this museum, I know it shouldn’t exist. Yet here it is.”

“That is my chance to see the truth.”

“After all, I’ve been here before…”

“Both fact and logic prove that such a place shouldn’t exist. No matter how real it appears, subtle discrepancies with the real world will eventually emerge—if only you can find them…”

Taking a deep breath, Lu Xin whispered, “If I break its logic chain, I can uncover its true form.”

As he spoke, he glanced at the Undercover Units nearby, ensuring they were recording his words.

Then he stepped forward, determined to scrutinize every detail.

Just then, Mom softly asked, “Are you sure you want to see the world as it truly is?”

Surprised, Lu Xin turned to look at her with confusion.

Mom smiled gently and replied, “It’s inevitable sooner or later.”

Her expression hinted at deeper meaning.

But Lu Xin was used to Mom’s ambiguous words—and he knew he had to shatter this illusion.

Otherwise, he might become trapped in this museum forever, bound to these bottles.

…

Shaking his head to steady his nerves, he moved back to the wall.

He examined the texture and material—it looked real, even exuding the musty scent of moss.

Yet as his focus sharpened, a nagging sense of unreality began to surface…

“You’re fake. This entire place is fake.”

“My cognition has been impaired; all I need is to restore my true perception…”

“…”

Muttering to himself, Lu Xin suddenly reached out and gripped the wall hard.

The wall felt tough under his fingers, yet he dug in as if his hands were burrowing through mud.

The moment he made contact, every display screen along the wall flickered—the figures inside suddenly turned to look at him.

Their expressions ranged from terror to anger, some erupting in hysterical curses.

Some even rushed to the edge of their bottles, pounding on the glass with their fists.

Their frantic actions caused the bottles to tremble and collide slightly on the rack.

A cacophony of clattering sounds erupted—a dense chorus of from dozens, hundreds, even thousands of minute noises assaulting Lu Xin’s ears.

They converged into a roaring torrent that pounded his mind.

…

Despite the pressure, Lu Xin remained unmoved. He continued to claw at the wall, pulling and tearing at it with all his might.

Mom watched his actions, her expression softening into one of quiet approval.