14 Summoning the Baby Bus

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Rachel and the Black Swan landed together on the ground. In her mind, she pondered whether the ticking sound pointed to the clockmaker, after all, the hands of a clock move in cycles, endlessly forward.

Clockmaker... clockmaker...

Could it be the coded message Mr. Walter mentioned on the invitation? What did the text say again?

“Behold the impossible in dreams, seek the inheritance of the clockmaker, father of Pinocconi, and then answer why life falls into slumber.”

Impossible things in dreams, the clockmaker’s legacy, and the question of why life sleeps—these were the three key points Rachel knew about the clockmaker, also related to why so many people had gathered at Pinocconi.

One might even say they were the only three key points.

…She ought to give it a try, though so far Rachel had to admit she had no clue about any of them.

Except the first—it seemed like a riddle. After all, Pinocconi always claimed that anything was possible here.

Either the answer was right on the surface—that the impossible was the death proclaimed by the family—or else… for example, if you’re already asleep in a dream, how do you sleep further?

—but the latter had a logical flaw, Rachel thought. She slept almost every day at Origami University—wasn’t that sleeping within a dream?

She shook her head slightly, momentarily shattering her rushed thoughts, and walked over to the Star to comfort her.

“She’s very likely to be fine.”

Rachel held the Star’s forearm gently.

She briefly recounted what she had witnessed when following the two of them, how they had been sent off by fireworks.

Along the way, she voiced her speculation—not just an unarmed girl, but a Star Core Hunter.

Of course, she had concealed and altered some details, for example, describing the once deserted observation deck as a place where a young lady with a pale green skirt fluttering in the wind appeared—someone she was sure was no stowaway.

The Star seemed somewhat reassured.

The Black Swan temporarily left the scene. She called the “Baby Bus” the “Thing Facing Death,” preferred the shorthand “Death,” and said that while Death still wandered, she needed to ensure the safety of others.

Yomi and the Star stepped aside; Yomi seemed to have something to say. Rachel did not deny her curiosity but did not follow.

She was wary of the silent, quiet woman behind them, instinctively sensing danger and that it was unwise to get too close.

*

The Black Swan returned, bringing news that Himeko and Sanzuki had been stopped by the family.

“So, at this moment, we are the only ones left in this primordial dreamscape. I suggest we move toward a safer place. Along the way, perhaps we can collect some memory fragments related to Ms. Liu Ying—Rachel’s last actions and the ‘tick-tock’ sound emitted by Death are worth exploring, and of course, Ms. Liu Ying herself... What do you think?”

The Star agreed; Yomi had no objections. This decision suited Rachel perfectly.

Following the path the Black Swan indicated, it wasn't long before the group sensed heat and the smell of burning in the air. Rachel’s senses were not as keen as the others’, but the scent was pungent.

It immediately reminded Rachel, who had been on high alert for a while, of the nearly identical online reviews of Star Core Hunter Sam.

Fiery, direct, destructive—almost every time Sam arrived at a scene, the remnants were a heap of charred remains.

Just like now… Rachel crouched down, her fingers hovering over the metallic exterior of a Dream-Shock Troupe device.

She could still feel the scorching heat, almost burning her fingertips.

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It was exactly as described online.

They pressed on, following the Black Swan’s guidance, and saw fragments of Liu Ying’s memories lingering in this dreamscape.

Rachel listened closely.

She heard Liu Ying mention that what she and the Star had encountered was definitely related to the clockmaker; the Star was beside her, wiping her nose, saying it was that Memory Domain Meme.

Most of the information in the memories eluded Rachel’s understanding, but she caught an important detail: the word “mecha.”

She glanced at the Star, whose expression softened somewhat.

Then, Rachel heard a phrase.

“Life falls into slumber because they do not wish to wake from the dream.”

Though not the final piece of the entire puzzle, it was indeed the last piece of a certain corner.

Rachel silently followed the group onward. Yomi was as quiet as she was, but the Black Swan spoke at length.

Listening in, Rachel felt the Black Swan seemed to be deliberately, or perhaps unwittingly, stirring the Star’s emotions.

She said nothing but pondered that question in her heart—why life falls into slumber.

What was her answer?

*

Following the Black Swan’s lead, Rachel soon saw the lobby of the Dream Hotel from afar.

She had no objections to the detour; in her heart, she marveled that everyone who came here carried a purpose.

From a distance, she spotted the silver mecha standing in the center of the lobby. She patted the Star’s shoulder.

“You can try. If it’s not that lady, I believe Miss Black Swan can definitely rescue you.”

Though she said this, Rachel doubted her own guess was wrong.

She remained standing nearby.

“Star Core Hunter Sam’s combat style is too fierce. Someone as fragile as me is better off watching from afar. Don’t worry about me. If I’m not here when you return, it means I’ve gone after that Memory Domain Meme—you saw earlier, it was friendly toward me.”

The Black Swan shot Rachel a thoughtful glance.

Rachel grinned back until the Black Swan averted her eyes.

The other three sprinted toward the lobby, while Rachel stayed in a nearby hallway. She didn’t even move elsewhere.

Seeing that the tall “man” clad in silver armor didn’t attack the Star and the others, she closed her eyes and whispered:

“Why life falls into slumber—I think it’s because I need to find rest within it, so that when I awaken the next day, I can continue the work I have yet to finish.”

After saying this, Rachel silently prayed: Baby Bus… you must come. If you come, I can, uh, sing ‘Happy Flying Forward’ with you ten times.

Rachel felt she needed to follow the footsteps of the Star Core Hunters.

These hunters were quite capable, especially the one Rachel had seen during her search—the Slave of Fate.

The Slave of Fate was special among the Star Core Hunters. When she asked Walter, she learned that this person could see the future and use those possible futures to find what he considered the “best” path for the Star Core Hunters and all beings.

Perhaps the Celestial Train was destined to pioneer new paths and therefore didn’t follow the Star Core Hunters’ choice to copy homework, Rachel thought. But since she wasn’t a member of the Celestial Train, she had no need to embody the pioneer’s will and would have no hesitation in copying homework.

As for Mr. Sunday… Rachel would have to ask him to step aside for now. She couldn’t deny that so far he had behaved well—gentlemanly, generous to the point she couldn’t refuse.

She was happy to help, but on the condition that she wouldn’t be wandering like a headless fly, knowing only what Mr. Sunday had told her.

That would make her look like a fool.

Besides, there was that dream host who looked decidedly villainous.

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She heard the wind behind her head, and the next moment, the Baby Bus’s nursery rhyme played, just a beat late.

“Pfft.”

The sound of piercing traveled along her bones to her eardrums, but Rachel felt no pain. Instead… a thin film that had long constrained her was pierced, then suddenly burst open. She floated freely, caught by a claw, enveloped in pink mist. Many things rapidly receded from her consciousness...

Rachel was placed on a platform that looked plain—so plain it hardly seemed part of Pinocconi.

On the platform stood a disheveled man, his chest so large that it strained his shirt, the collar barely holding the muscles beneath.

He looked somewhat downcast, a little troubled, sighing at the “Baby Bus”: “Wasn’t your job to pick up those who solved the invitation’s riddle? Why are you bringing those who didn’t even receive an invitation... Oh well, as long as you’re happy.”

With that, he stepped forward, body leaning slightly, arms reaching out with broad, flat palms.

“Hello, unexpected guest. I’m Gallagher.”

*

“You are always overly forgiving to others, my child, including this one here.”

The black-purple bird tilted its head. Its eyes, unnervingly human-like, bore the image and face of Mr. Sunday.

“Now she has discovered the clockmaker’s private domain... She’s not a tame, controlled child. Sunday, not a harmonizing dove, but a sparrow. Sparrows use every means to escape their cage—or choose death. And she is a clever sparrow.”

Sunday calmly acknowledged, “I know.”

With a humble yet not entirely humble demeanor, he looked at the bird.

“Dream host, this does not affect our grand plan. More people, more fates colliding at Pinocconi will attract greater attention.”

The black-purple bird said no more, closed its eyes, and leaned against a perch, seemingly to rest.

*

“It’s really not easy to shake off those irrelevant around you,” the Black Swan put away the card she had just played. “Luckily, your little girlfriend noticed my hint.”

She smiled at the Star, then handed the stage over to Sajin, who had been sitting in the shadows, only starting to applaud when noticed by the Star.

“I’ve completed the deal. Now, it’s your time, Mr. Sajin.”

At this moment, a great deal of information floated through the Star’s mind, and Sajin’s appearance undoubtedly added more complexity, making her task of sorting it out much harder.

After a moment of silence, she decided to listen to Sajin finish speaking, following him to the Dream Pool in the guest room.

As Sajin parted the floating memory matter, she saw the memory form lying within.

It was the Robin, with the crystal-like purple wound on its chest.

The Star carefully examined the Robin’s form until it shattered into memory bubbles, then asked:

“Is that the Memory Domain Meme? I mean, the thing facing death.”

Sajin’s gaze also rested on the Dream Pool, rippling with faint cyan waves.

He uttered a vague, ambiguous syllable: “Hmm.”

Star said, “Just before Black Swan brought me here—not long ago—Miss Rachel tried summoning that Memory Domain Meme. She succeeded, and then she was pierced.”

“But she said she probably wouldn’t die.”