I'm trapped in a cube

Martin was in the research institute, chatting with Zhou Ming, the discoverer of dreams, while sorting out information.

"Mr. Martin, I've said everything I know. Can we go back?" Zhou Ming was still a little scared.

"Of course. As the discoverer, we will not erase your memory, but you have to sign a confidentiality agreement and will be monitored by us. This is for your protection." Martin replied calmly.

Zhou Ming nodded repeatedly: "Of course, I will definitely abide by the rules."

He was just about to leave, but he squirmed in his chair, hesitated for a moment, and asked in a low voice: "Mr. Martin, does the dream world really exist? There is a lot of knowledge in dreams that I have never understood before."

Martin saw that Zhou Ming was very curious about this, so he seriously warned: "Don't try to recall these forbidden knowledge, and don't always be immersed in the fantasy of the dream world. What you have to do now is to return to daily life."

Zhou Ming waved his hand quickly: "It's not some taboo knowledge, it's just the score of a football match. I'm pretty sure I didn't know it originally, but I watched the match in my dream, and when I came out I found that the score was exactly the same."

"Also, I asked for a girl's phone number in the bar in my dream. After I returned to reality, I tried to call it, and it actually got through, and it was her who got through."

"besides……"

Martin quickly interrupted him: "Stop talking, no matter how real the dream is, you still belong to this world, and those have nothing to do with you."

If all relics had to be investigated, the institute would already be out of manpower, and those crises that can truly threaten the world should be resolved first.

"But those people are so real."

"While I was recovering, I met a person who couldn't see clearly. I told him that I was recovering. He asked me how many levels I wanted to wake up to, and I told him."

"Then……"

Snapped!

Martin slammed the information on the table and said seriously to Zhou Ming: "If you continue to talk, I can determine that you have been distorted by the relic and apply for expungement."

After hearing Martin's righteous warning, Zhou Ming finally stood up in fear, apologized to Martin, and pushed out the door.

Zhou Ming's words echoed in Martin's mind, and he could not calm down for a long time.

Long afterward, Martin was still thinking about this relic.

Although he said not to believe the world view shown by those relics, Martin still couldn't control his thoughts.

From the moment he learned about his abilities, he had doubts about the world.

Martin, who graduated from a prestigious university, has firm scientific concepts, but the existence of relics is constantly shaking his view of the world.

Why are there such things as relics?

Where does their energy come from?

What is the formula for converting cost into capability?

Martin felt that the relic was like an abrupt nail stuck in the world, completely inconsistent with the original world view.

It seems like this thing was put in specially.

It's like adding a setting to the ordinary world, and then using this setting to derive a new world.

Martin has only seen this kind of thing on one kind of thing

--novel.

The more Martin thought about it, the more he became fascinated. He saw the pickles confiscated from the homes of Dream Sect members piled on the table nearby.

There was no one in the institute, and Martin walked into the infirmary by mistake, picked up a knife and cut a small opening on his finger.

Then I lay down on a chair, picked up a jar of pickles and put it behind my head, then recalled the black hole on the flyer...

When he woke up again, Martin found that he was still in the institute, with blood oozing from his fingers. Seeing the dripping blood, he suddenly realized that he was dreaming.

Walking to the computer aside, Martin looked up information he didn't know and found that the dream world was indeed exactly as Zhou Ming said, exactly the same as the real world, and even the knowledge was completely connected.

He turned over the price of the dream relics he had just sorted out, and it accurately read "501 grams of Korean kimchi in glass jars."

The person who discovered it was written "Zhou Ming".

Martin quickly discovered the problem. If Zhou Ming in the real world discovered the dream after returning to the 500-gram level, then why did another Zhou Ming discover the dream on this level?

Are there two Zhou Mings?

Then there is Zhou Ming on the next level?

"In other words, there is another me here now?" Martin suddenly felt horrified.

Martin suddenly realized that his understanding of dreams was still too simple. If every layer was the same, then every layer would have the same "Martin" and "Zhou Ming". Where were these people?

"What about the 'leaders' on other levels?" Martin asked uncontrollably.

At this moment, a familiar voice next to him answered him.

"died."

Hearing the sudden sound, Martin quickly stepped back and watched the sudden figure warily.

His head was a pickle jar, he was wearing a white coat, and he was exactly the same height and shape as himself. This man was looking at him from the side.

"The leader is dead. As long as one layer dies, all layers will die."

Martin looked at the sudden appearance of the pickle can, and just as he was about to ask a question, the man in the pickle can already answered:

"I am Martin on the 532nd floor. It has been three minutes since you arrived here, and three years have passed since we lived there. Now I have fully mastered the ability to travel through dreams and deliver the fire as agreed."

"Please remember the blood transfusion formula I'm going to talk about next."

"Please prepare the grams of kimchi you need to dream in the 'real world' as you know it, put it into an 'appropriate' glass jar, add 17 degrees Celsius cold water, and finally pour the cold water into the cup."

"Then take your own blood, extract the serum, and add it to it."

"Cut ten of your own hair into pieces and add them to it."

"Pound the nail of your right thumb into powder and add it to it."

"The fuzz at the earlobe, three pieces, left and right, join in."

"Cut the piece of skin that is now blistered on the heel of your left foot in half and add it to it."

"The dream sect's flyer promoting black holes, cut off the four corners and join it."

"..."

"The usage of all the above ingredients is an 'appropriate amount', and the processing method should be based on the method you are most familiar with. After the preparation is completed, stir the cold water in the cup evenly, and then heat it to 25 degrees Celsius."

"Then inject this cold water into your body to complete the blood transfusion."

The pickle canner finished explaining the recipe while looking at his watch, but he did not give Martin a chance to ask, but instead told Martin meaningfully:

"Please, in three years' time, at the moment you feel is 'appropriate', please travel to the research institute on the 470th floor and continue to pass on the fire."

"This is our agreement..."