Chapter 591: Carnival of Desire [23]

Lulu stood frozen like a statue, its button eyes blinking rapidly.

Adrian’s words echoed in its head like the lingering chime of a bell: “I just don’t want someone to sacrifice themselves without leaving a name behind.”

“I… I…” Lulu stammered, its stuffed legs trembling slightly. “I’m not going to sacrifice myself! I’m just following you, that’s all!”

Adrian did not answer. He merely smiled. “So cowardly…” He turned around, placed a hand on the doorknob, and pushed hard.

The steel door, which had been left ajar for some time, swung wide open with a creak. A wave of hot, humid air thick with the pungent smell of chemicals rushed out, forcing Lulu to take half a step back and raise its stuffed paw to cover its face.

Inside was a long corridor, illuminated by the sickly yellow glow of industrial lights. Hanging from iron hooks along both walls were two uniforms, set against metal walls covered in rust and greasy stains.

Adrian glanced at them. They were old, silver-gray coveralls covered in stains, accompanied by protective masks shaped like panda mascots—wide, blank eyes and a small round opening cut into the mouth just large enough to breathe through. Above each uniform hung a black sign bearing a fading inscription: “Happy Water Factory — Production Line Worker — Night Shift.”

Without the slightest hesitation, Adrian reached out, took one of the uniforms, and held it up for inspection.

“It suits you,” he said to Lulu in a tone as casual as if he were choosing a gift in a store.

“Huh? I don’t need a mask! I’m already a mascot—”

“That’s not what I mean.” Adrian slipped the uniform on. The oversized coveralls made him look like a child wearing an adult’s clothes. He adjusted the shoulders, pulled the hood over his head, and put on the panda mask. Through the round lenses, his azure-blue eyes still gleamed brightly, like two gemstones trapped inside a box made of shaggy cotton. “If you get separated from me, at least you can pretend you’re working so you won’t be discovered.”

Lulu’s eyes widened. It reached out with its stuffed paw and gingerly touched the remaining uniform. The canvas fabric was frayed and coarse, permeated with the deep-set smell of grease and some acrid liquid that had soaked into every fiber.

“All right…” Lulu whispered, wriggling its plush body into the uniform. The shirt was enormous on it, with its head poking out through the collar while the panda mask hung down around its belly, looking utterly out of place and bizarre.

Adrian glanced at it, and his smile beneath the mask grew even deeper.

“Looks good.”

Then he said nothing more and walked toward the end of the corridor, where another door stood slightly ajar. Beyond it came the roar of machinery and the steady sound of approaching footsteps.

As they stepped out of the corridor, the space opened up before them in an overwhelming expanse.

It was a colossal factory floor, its ceiling so high that the cranes and tangled metal scaffolding above disappeared into the darkness. Conveyor belts stretched into the distance, carrying thousands of metal boxes and glass bottles waiting to be filled. Red-gold warning lights flickered overhead, columns of steam billowed violently into the air, and amid all that chaos, a long line of gray-uniformed figures marched forward in perfect rhythm, as though they were simply another part of the conveyor system.

The workers.

They moved in an eerie silence, their iron or stuffed feet—for they were mascots too—striking the metal floor in perfect unison. No one spoke. No one looked left or right. They were like mechanical puppets, their eyes fixed straight ahead, doing nothing but walk and walk.

Adrian did not hesitate.

He stepped straight into the line, his manner so natural that Lulu stared at him in disbelief from behind. In less than three seconds, he had blended seamlessly into the crowd—as though he had been doing this job for decades.

Lulu hurried after him, slipping into the position directly behind Adrian. Its plush body looked painfully out of place among the taller mascot workers, but the oversized uniform did enough to conceal it.

[No way! He just slipped into the workers’ ranks like this is the most normal thing in the world!]

[Can anyone else believe this guy is a Priest of Erebus? I thought Priests only knew how to pray and cast spells, hahaha!]

[You guys are pretending to be surprised so convincingly that I thought you actually just met Adrian.]

[Honestly, it’d be such a waste if Adrian didn’t become an actor.]

[Lulu is scared half to death and still following him. What a loyal dog, hahaha!]

[But… this factory looks seriously creepy… Those pipes look like intestines…]

The workers turned into a wider corridor. Twisted metal pipes ran along both walls, their surfaces so hot that steam rose from them, filling the air with a sweet yet acrid smell that stung all the way down the throat. Thick, dark-red liquid flowed through the transparent glass pipes, churning like blood through arteries.

Adrian glanced at them. He realized that the liquid had a strange consistency—not water, nor syrup. It was more like something that had once been solid, then been melted down into a liquid.

Lulu followed his gaze and nearly threw up—if it had a stomach to begin with.

One of the glass pipes was cracked. Liquid seeped through the fracture, dripping onto the floor. The moment it touched the metal, white smoke billowed up, and the floor began to corrode, leaving behind a small depression.

“Don’t stare for too long,” Adrian whispered through his mask, his voice still gentle, though his azure eyes behind the panda lenses had grown noticeably sharper. “Focus on your steps.”

Lulu swallowed—despite having no saliva—and obeyed.

The workers continued moving, passing through another section of the factory. Here, enormous presses were in operation, crushing something inside them. Adrian couldn’t make out the details from a distance, but their shapes resembled fruit—except these were dark red, so deeply colored they were almost black. When crushed, they released a thick liquid that poured into the collection tanks below.

But the closer they got, the more clearly Adrian noticed a detail that made him falter.

They weren’t fruit.

The things being fed into the presses were shaped like… hearts.

Flesh-and-blood hearts, bright red, still giving faint, sluggish contractions before the massive press came down and crushed them flat. They were placed on the conveyor belt, each one encased in a thin membrane that rose and fell with its feeble pulse.

Lulu froze. It couldn’t breathe—even though it didn’t need to.

“Adrian…” it whispered, its voice barely more than a weak rasp in its throat. “I… I don’t want to look anymore…”

“Then don’t.” Adrian didn’t slow down, his voice eerily calm.

He reached for Lulu’s hand—a cold, slender human hand naturally closing around its stuffed paw—and pulled it along.

[HE’S HOLDING LULU’S HAND!]

[But seriously… this factory is horrifying… what the hell are they crushing to make the water?]

[What even is Happy Water?!]

The workers continued forward, passing through sections lined with moving conveyor belts. Glass bottles were filled with bright red liquid, capped, labeled, and then transferred to another conveyor for distribution. The labels bore glossy, cheerful slogans, their bright and inviting appearance in stark contrast to the brutal production process behind them.

Then, from somewhere in the distance, a shrill whistle pierced the air.

WOO… WOO… WOO…

The entire line of workers came to a halt. The gray figures stood motionless as statues, not a single one of them moving.

Lulu looked around in panic, but Adrian remained perfectly still, casually slipping a hand into the pocket of his uniform as though he were simply waiting for a train.

From the far end of the production line, a massive figure emerged.

It was a Pig mascot.

But unlike the cute mascots found in amusement parks, this pig was unnaturally huge, standing over three meters tall, its body covered in scars and countless crudely stitched patches of fabric. In one hand, it carried a long chain whip, rusted and blackened with dried blood. A large section of its plush face had been torn away, exposing what lay beneath—not stuffing, but a layer of rotting black flesh.

It approached, its blood-red eyes sweeping across the rows of workers.

“Everyone!” Its voice grated like metal scraping against stone. “The Main Raw Material Storage is ready! All workers—move!”

The chain whip in its hand slammed down onto the metal floor. Sparks flew, and a crack appeared across the surface.

Not a sound. Not a single question.

The workers turned as one and marched toward a massive gate at the end of the corridor. Above it hung a blazing red sign:

MAIN RAW MATERIAL STORAGE

RAW MATERIALS COME ONLY FROM THOSE WHO ARE WILLING

Lulu trembled violently, feeling as though its feet had frozen to the floor. Adrian released its paw and walked toward the gate with the rest of the workers.

Lulu remained where it was, watching Adrian’s gray-uniformed figure gradually disappear into the sea of identical silhouettes.

It bit its lip—if it had lips—and then followed.

Into the Main Raw Material Storage.