294: When order meets silence, then the doorbell rings.

I. Solemn Ritual and Collapsing Style

Absolute "silence," like ice frozen for billions of years, enveloped the "ranger."

Outside the porthole, that giant door known as the "boundary membrane" stood in the center of the gray, infinitely extending mirror world, with a grandeur and silence that transcended the limits of human understanding.

Between the cracks of the door, that sliver of chaotic, shifting glimmer was the only restless pulse in this dead silence.

Inside the cabin, the atmosphere was so heavy it could be wrung out like water.

On the main screen, Evelyn's blood-red countdown ticked mercilessly: less than two hours remaining.

The downward slope of the energy curve was more heart-stopping than the steepest cliff.

The stripping away of the sense of existence was like a frog being boiled in warm water—silent, yet pressing in step by step.

Excellence stood before the special containment canister, in which the "stone of silence" emitted a stable and solemn silver-white pulsation.

What he was about to do was to use his own Power of Order as a bridge to "Resonance" with this ancient silence, to "greet" the spirit of the ancient the watchers that might be sleeping within the endless crystal.

Stardust was by his side, data streams surging like a waterfall in her gray eyes, calculating every possible energy ripple and information feedback.

Evelyn's projection was as condensed as reality, using every bit of computing power to maintain the system and monitor crises.

The spiritual fluctuations of "White Elder" were as calm as the deep water of an ancient pool, providing the final anchor for Excellence's consciousness.

This was a tragic and solemn picture.

A lonely traveler, before the judgment platform at the end of the universe, prepared to knock on the door knocker that would determine survival.

If there were background music, it would be a magnificent and tragic symphony at this moment, with strings as low as the sigh of fate and wind instruments as sharp as the warning of doomsday.

Excellence closed his eyes and cleared away all distracting thoughts.

The silver light between his brows was warm and firm; he adjusted his breathing and sank his heart completely into the faint connection with the "stone of silence."

He condensed a wisp of the purest, most peaceful Power of Order—not to conquer, only to communicate; not possessing sharpness, only holding respect—like a pilgrim extending a trembling and devout hand, preparing to lightly touch the cornerstone of the holy image.

He had "thought" out that greeting across time and space, that inquiry of Order towards silence, that humble questioning of a tiny existence towards grand destiny.

Then, his Power of Order gently and cautiously touched the cold, silver-white radiance in the canister.

Hum...

The expected deep Resonance did not appear.

Instead, there was—

"Zzz~~~ Waaaahhh—!!!"

A segment of high-impact, rough-sounding but astonishingly loud cutscene music, as if it had exploded directly out of a 20th-century old video game console, rushed out of the "stone of silence" like an electronic cat whose tail had been stepped on!

Strong drum beats, out-of-tune brass, and cheap electronic strings mixed together to form an unreasonable sound wave, instantly crushing the solemn atmosphere painstakingly maintained within the bridge!

Excellence shuddered, his brewed tragic emotions blown to smithereens. His hand snapped back as if electrocuted, his eyes widened until they almost popped out of their sockets, and his mind was a buzzing blank.

That wasn't all!

"Dee-dee-da-dee-da-dee~~ Clang! Clang! Clang! Good evening, audience friends both inside and outside the dimensions! Good evening! Welcome to lock onto this space-time coordinate and watch the 'Universe Big Stage,' exclusively titled by the 'Silent Corridor' and with background noise kindly provided by the 'Sea of Chaos'! I am your handsome, dashing, beloved, flower-attracting, gold-medal host responsible for this special awakening program—Mute!!!"

A baritone voice full of stage presence, exaggerated to the point of being flamboyant, and enunciating clearly like a midnight shopping channel host, followed the BGM, full of breath and passion. Every syllable seemed to carry its own exclamation mark, forcibly carving out a small, noisy "acoustic enclave" in this space where the concept of "sound" theoretically almost didn't exist!

"What... the hell?!"

Excellence was completely dumbfounded, almost having his soul shaken out of his body by this sudden "mental pollution."

He stumbled back a step, grabbing the nearby console, feeling his eardrums (although this sound acted directly on consciousness) and his worldview mourning at the same time.

On Stardust's side, the scene was even more bizarre.

Her gray eyes, which usually flowed with rational golden light, froze the moment the music exploded. The data stream seemed to encounter dimensional reduction strikes, stalling abruptly, then flickering crazily like an old television snow screen, and finally turning into a completely lifeless, dull deep gray.

She maintained a slightly forward-leaning, focused analytical posture, yet her whole body was stiff and motionless, like a precision sculpture instantly "petrified" by high-tech noise, with only the slightly twitching corners of her eyes exposing the intense conflict and crash her internal system was experiencing.

Evelyn's spirit projection flashed violently, the light flickering uncertainly, the color instantly fading from a stable azure to a dark red representing a warning, then jumping back to pale transparency.

Clearly, this "information attack mode," which completely exceeded any logical contingency and violated all physical common sense, also caused short-term disorder and overload in the core built on strict logic.

Even in the spiritual link, the mental field of "White Elder," which had always been as calm as an ancient well, rarely sent out a violent "spasm" fluctuation, similar to an ancient tree being struck by lightning, mixed with a clear, almost "choking" confusion.

"What the hell is this?! Where did the music come from?! Where did the host come from?! Is this stone broken?! Was it contaminated by the 'Heart-Devouring Demon'?!"

Excellence clutched his buzzing head (even though the sound was ringing directly in his consciousness) and roared in a low voice at the containment canister, which was still shining brightly and even flickering slightly with the rhythm of the BGM.

He felt that what he had injected just now was not the Power of Order, but that he had accidentally pressed the "Maximum Volume and Auto-Seek" button of a knockoff radio buried at the bottom of the universe's garbage dump, with leaking batteries!

The "stone of silence" in the canister showed no shame. The cheerful (and piercing) BGM and the host's passionate bridging lines continued, and there were even faint, distorted, ragged applause and whistling sounds in the background, as if they had been dug out of an old videotape!

"Thank you! Thank you for the applause and cheers across dimensions! Today, our 'Universe Big Stage' program team, after going through countless hardships—mostly me digging through historical archives garbage dumps for what amounts to... uh, hundreds of thousands of stellar years on your side—has finally successfully awakened and connected to a heavyweight, legendary, mysterious special guest!"

The host's voice grew higher, full of the excitement of discovering treasure.

"He, the time he slept is longer than the lifespan of most civilizations! He, the duty he guards concerns the delicate balance between the 'purity' and 'bustle' of countless worlds! He is—the permanent property owner of the 'Silent Corridor,' the lifetime responsibility caretaker of 'the gate' project, the first champion of the 'Sea of Chaos' tidal pressure resistance championship, formerly known as the 'Eternal Watcher' but currently in 'ultra-long standby energy-saving mode'—Mr. Mute!!!"

The BGM was pushed to a climax at the right time, adding more fancy electronic sound effects and exaggerated applause samples.

Excellence, Stardust, Evelyn, White Elder: "..."

Mr. Mute? Permanent property owner? Ultra-long standby energy-saving mode?

What about the ancient, tragic the watchers who bore the weight of cosmic balance? What about the stone tablet-like protocol interface with only four cold options that was preset? What kind of interstellar joke was this "Universe Big Stage" that fell from the sky, filled with cheap variety show vibes, silly style, and nonsense?

"Ahem... Zzz... Hello? Hello? Testing, one, two... This broken microphone... Zzz... in disrepair, bad contact..."

A voice completely different from the previous passionate host interrupted intermittently, mixed with a large amount of electronic noise.

This voice was old, with a heavy, sleepy, and nasal tone as if he had just been dragged out of the deepest sleep, and a bit of... impatience at being forced to do business. There were a few "bang bang" sounds, as if he was tapping the diaphragm of an old-fashioned microphone.

"I... I can hear you." Excellence's mouth twitched, giving up on expression management, and responded tentatively.

His brain had stopped protesting "this is illogical" and shifted into "I want to see how much more ridiculous this can get" spectator mode.

"Oh, that's fine, the signal isn't completely cut off." The old man who called himself "Mute" muttered, the noise quieted down, but the sleepy, lazy, corporate slave vibe of being forced to attend the company's annual meeting became even stronger.

"That bit just now... was the last entertainment program replay I recorded before I slept... er, 'standby.' Slipped my hand, the preset wake-up program association triggered. Excuse me, excuse me, the equipment is old, the program is a bit crossed."

He paused, seemingly "looking" at Excellence. "You are that... newcomer? Hmm, the 'taste' of the Power of Order is quite authentic, it's just that the quantity is a bit small, like a mosquito bite, I almost didn't feel it, it took me a long time to scratch the itch to shake me awake from deep standby."

Small quantity? Mosquito bite? Scratching an itch? Excellence looked down at his palm that had just output the Power of Order, and then looked up at the glowing stone in the canister, an indescribable feeling of grievance and absurdity surging into his heart.

His Resonance, which he had tried his best to achieve and was almost exhausted, was evaluated like this by this big shot?

"You... are the watchers? Senior Mute?" Stardust finally forced herself to break free from the "petrified" state, her powerful logical core driving her to ignore the "disaster" on the spiritual level just now, and grabbed the most critical information.

The data stream in her eyes struggled to flow again, but the speed was slow and full of various question marks and garbled codes, as if the system was still digesting this overly "personalized" first contact.

"Ah, yes, used to be called the watchers, a job title given by the public, too serious, like being in jail." Mute's voice seemed to recover a bit of energy, but the tone was still like a vine softened by the sun, drooping lazily.

"Later I changed it myself, Mute, the 'Mute' of silence, sounds intimate. The Owners' Committee of this 'Silent Corridor' (although it's just me) all call me that. Watch? That's one of the job contents, the main duty is to watch the gate, by the way, regulate the pressure difference between the two sides, to prevent the 'bustle' of that 'large irregular creative workshop' on the opposite side (he used a casual intention to point in the direction of the giant gate) from being too strong, and disturbing the 'quiet seat' that we (he pointed to the endless gray mirrors and black stones around) have managed to maintain here."

"Sigh, I'm old, my energy is not enough, last time I don't know which brainless thing on the opposite side... or something without a brain at all, launched a particularly fierce 'creative explosion,' the tide rushed like crazy. I exerted too much force, and without paying attention, I overloaded my 'dynamic existence maintenance system' and went into 'standby.' This sleep... tsk, it was quiet, but it cost a lot of 'silence energy,' oh, in your words, it cost a lot of electricity."

Owners' Committee? Watching the gate? Regulating air pressure? Large irregular creative workshop? Quiet seat? Cost electricity? Excellence felt his cognitive architecture was undergoing an inhumane demolition.

This had a devastating deviation from the image of the cosmic regulator he imagined who was lonely, tragic, and silently enduring the weight of eternal time.

"Mute... Senior," Excellence swallowed a non-existent mouthful of saliva with difficulty, trying to keep his thinking up with this runaway horse-like rhythm, "You just said, the other side of the gate... the 'bustle' is too strong? The 'Sea of Chaos'... 'creative explosion'?"

"Ain't that the truth!" Mute's voice seemed to pick up a bit of interest in complaining, or rather, having found someone to vent to. "Over there? It's just an endless, completely lawless, super-charged... hmm, to use an analogy you'd easily understand, it's a 'Quantum Concept Rave Nightclub' mixed with a 'Rule Fragment Baccarat Casino', plus a 'Rudimentary Existence Hotpot Buffet'!

All sorts of bizarre 'thoughts', 'possibilities', and 'rule fragments' are born, die, collide, and stir there. It's truly lively, the energy flow is a colorful, pitch-black mess, and there are always some particularly 'ambitious' 'information bubbles' or 'chaotic echoes' trying to squeeze through the cracks of the gate to go see your side.

My job is to drag a small stool to the entrance, take a 'silence' brand washboard, and scrub those overly lively, sharp-edged 'waves' flat, grind them smooth, and filter them into silence.

Occasionally, when I see one or two that look decent, have a relatively gentle temperament, and have a bit of 'potential for Order'—those 'rule embryos' or 'existence blanks'—I secretly sprinkle some 'silence' yeast to see if it can ferment on its own and slowly grow into a decent 'basic physical constant variant' or 'primary information ground state'.

These are all good things. Once I've saved up a batch, I find a suitable time and stuff them through the cracks into the greater universe on your side. Otherwise, where do you think all those bizarre planets, varied laws, and all that life and civilization that's always struggling and evolving out there get their raw materials? You really think they just appeared out of thin air? Those are all 'carefully selected and preliminarily processed' imported raw materials from our side!"

A washboard? Yeast? Imported raw materials? Excellence and Stardust once again fell into an absurd silence. This metaphor... it was too vivid and full of everyday life, brutally dismantling all the mystery and sublimity of cosmic evolution, yet weirdly making one feel... like it actually made some sense?

"Then... the 'Heart-Devouring Demon'? Are they also... 'imported' defective products from over there?" Excellence recalled the core of their pursuit.

"Heart-Devouring Demon? Oh, you mean those pieces of chaotic trash that failed to smuggle themselves over and developed malignant mutations?" Mute's voice immediately took on an undisguised tone of disgust and irritation. "Over there, it occasionally breeds some chaotic thought aggregates that are particularly 'stubborn', have a strong 'desire for existence', but completely lack 'orderliness' and only know how to cause trouble. In our jargon, we call them 'inferior chaotic echoes' or 'rule tumors'.

Most of them are scrubbed away like stains by the 'silence' washboard when they first pop up, or they dissipate on their own. But there are always a few tough ones, or ones that are particularly good at hiding, who take advantage of when I'm dozing off, distracted, or during that last 'overloaded standby' period, and slip out through the worn cracks in the gate or some 'weak points in the silence force field' caused by years of disrepair.

Once they get out, it's trouble. Without the natural suppression of the 'silence' environment here, and having absorbed all sorts of negative emotions, mental distractions, pain, and fear leaking from the intelligent beings on your side, they're like a virus finding a culture medium, replicating and mutating crazily, becoming things like 'Heart-Devouring Demon', 'eye of suffering', or 'Greedy Aggregate'.

In essence, they are just lost, dyspeptic, and malignantly cancerous 'inferior chaotic echoes' throwing tantrums on your side, always wanting to come back, or just wanting to tear down the gate to let more of their kind through and turn your side into a chaotic junkyard too. Delusional!"

So that was it! The 'Heart-Devouring Demon' that had plagued them for so long, nearly destroyed 'Resonance Star', and relentlessly hunted them—its origin was actually 'failed, inferior smuggled goods' + 'malignant psycho-pathological aggregate' from the 'Sea of Chaos'? This explanation... while still full of things to complain about, inexplicably gave a clear (and speechless) causal chain to all the seemingly groundless erosion and chaos.

"Then what about the current state of the gate..." Stardust quickly pulled the topic back to the most urgent reality. "After you went into 'standby', did the efficiency of the 'washboard' and 'filter' drop significantly? That glimmer continuously leaking from the cracks..."

"Ah, just talking about this makes me angry, and I'm heartbroken over my meager savings!" Mute's voice rose a bit, mixed with grievance, heartache, and lingering fear. "That last wave of abnormal tide wasn't just powerful; it was mixed with a particularly 'stubborn', particularly 'greedy', and highly corrosive chaotic intent, completely different from those happy-go-lucky 'chaotic bubbles' from before!"

To shut the gate tightly and plug that leaking crack, I poured in all the 'silence' source energy I'd been hoarding at the bottom of my box for who knows how many years! And you saw the result: 'overloaded standby', a forced shutdown for safety.

Once I 'standby', this 'fully automatic filtration and cleaning array' at the entrance (his consciousness swept over the huge black crystals around them) can only maintain basic operation at the lowest power consumption. It's fine for blocking ordinary 'waves', but for those particularly small, tricky ones, or those 'inferior chaotic echoes' with that 'stubborn' streak, the filtration efficiency is greatly reduced.

That bit of light from the cracks is the 'noise' and 'harmful radiation' leaking through. Over time, as more leaks out and the pressure on the other side continues to build, and with this array in disrepair and lacking maintenance, it's possible that one day the pressure threshold will be broken, and this 'gate'—crack!—will be burst open from the other side!

By then, it won't be just a few 'Heart-Devouring Demon' causing a ruckus; it'll be the entire 'Quantum Concept Rave Nightclub', foundation and sign included, crashing right at your doorstep! Does your universe, which has only just managed to scrape together a bit of Order and civilization, have what it takes to withstand a few rounds of 'excitement' on that level?"

This metaphor... although atrociously crude, the sense of crisis it contained was like an ice pick, instantly piercing through all the absurd appearances and sending chills down Excellence and Stardust's spines. They seemed to see the end-of-the-world scene where the boundaries of the orderly universe were washed away by an endless, indescribable torrent of chaotic "creativity" and "possibilities".

"So, those four protocols..." Excellence hurriedly asked about the final "operation menu".

"Oh, those were just some automatic reply messages I preset before 'standby', thinking that if some greenhorn like you, with a bit of the scent of 'Order' and the ability to find this place, came looking, I couldn't just leave them staring blankly." Mute was quite frank. "'Continuation' is about finding a way to wake this old fellow up, but the success rate... well, you can see how deeply I'm sleeping."

"'Purification' is for you to use this 'silence' core fragment as a temporary welding torch to forcibly weld the leak shut. But it treats the symptoms, not the root cause. Welding it shut here might cause the pressure to burst out from other, more fragile places, and it might even blow up the 'welding torch' (the silence force field) itself."

"'Reconstruction'... the idea is good: wanting to build a small shed (a rule incubator) at the entrance, manage some controlled drainage to reduce the pressure on the gate, and incidentally produce some 'local specialties'. But the technical difficulty is too high, there are no blueprints, it's purely theoretical wishful thinking, and it's easy to mess up."

"'Termination' is the easiest, but also the most wasteful: just blow up the entrance and the surrounding area, and be done with it. But the explosion would definitely affect the neighbors, and whether that leads to a chain reaction of collapses or a permanent crater, nobody can say." In just a few words, he stripped away the high-sounding shell of the four protocols, revealing the crude and even dangerous "lining" inside.

"Then what should we actually do now?" Excellence asked directly. Communicating with this "senior" with such a unique way of thinking, beating around the bush was just a waste of life.

"What to do? It's difficult!" Mute sighed, and the drowsiness returned to his voice. "I'd like to wake up, but the 'silence' energy has bottomed out, and my consciousness is scattered like sesame paste, unable to gather back for a while. The 'silence' core fragment you brought is a 'spare key' and 'emergency caller' I made from a scrap of the door frame when I was bored back in the day, and its energy reserves are limited."

"As for you lot..." He paused, his consciousness seemingly sweeping over Excellence and the entire "ranger". "Your 'Power of Order' is of decent quality, but the quantity is too small; it wouldn't even be enough to fill the gaps in my teeth. This little tin ship's energy readings are touchingly low—not even enough for me to run a single self-check cycle of the 'automatic filtration array'. It's tough."

Rejected in every way... Excellence looked at himself and then glanced around at the scarred, energy-depleted "ranger". For the first time in his life, he had such a profound and concrete understanding of being "poor" and "weak". So, all their struggles, all their fleeing for their lives, in the eyes of this "senior property owner," they were just a bunch of "interstellar vagrants" holding a rusty spare key and lacking enough energy to even pay the property management fees?

"However..." Mute's voice suddenly dragged on, taking on a familiar tone, like an old man on the street about to sell a secret ancestral recipe. "Seeing as your 'Power of Order' is quite to my taste—fresh and without any strange odors—and you did manage to 'scratch' me awake a little from my deep, heavy standby... it's not entirely without a solution."

"What solution?" Excellence immediately pricked up his ears. There was a turning point!

"Here, although my savings are thin, the property deed for this 'homestead' of the 'Silent Corridor' is still complete. This place has nothing, just one characteristic: 'silence', absolute 'silence'." Mute said slowly, as if keeping them in suspense. "And when 'silence' reaches an extreme, it itself generates a kind of... hmm, 'potential difference'? Or rather, its 'sense of existence' is so thin that it actually makes it easy to 'adsorb' some... special things that are usually very hard to catch."

"Special things?" Stardust's alertness was instantly maxed out.

"For example, some high-dimensional 'conceptual scraps' or 'information dewdrops' that are hard to exist stably in your lively universe and vanish in a flash, or... some 'chaotic echoes' that are lost but relatively gentle in nature, and might even carry some 'nutrients'?" Mute's tone was half temptation, half risk, like an experienced speculator. "I happen to have a blueprint here, a 'Silent Resonance Fishing Device' I designed back in the day with leftover 'silence' scraps just to pass the time."

"The principle is to use the 'adsorption potential' generated by extreme 'silence' to emit a special 'bait fluctuation' that only specific 'fish' can perceive, attracting them from the 'chaotic shallows' or dimensional cracks. I originally wanted to get some gentle 'chaotic echoes' to keep as bonsai for fun, but just as I finished drawing the blueprints, before I could put them into practice, I went into 'standby'. Now... I can lend them to you."

"Attract... chaotic echoes? As bonsai?" Excellence felt his nerves twitching. What on earth was all this?

"Don't worry! It's filtered; theoretically, it only works on the 'gentle' and 'nutritious' types! The kind that isn't aggressive, just a bit 'overly lively', and might contain some pure 'high-dimensional energy' or interesting 'rule information fragments'." Mute quickly added, trying to increase credibility. "Use 'Silent Resonance' to 'fish' them over, then use your 'Power of Order' as the 'fishing line' and 'tether', and my 'silence' core fragment as the 'creel' and 'stabilizer' to 'capture', 'soothe', and 'convert' them."

"If you're lucky, the 'high-dimensional energy' can recharge me and your little broken ship that's about to stall out. As for the 'rule information fragments', maybe they can help me repair my scattered consciousness fragments, or... help us dig up some clues about the source of that last wave of abnormal tide, or even find a way to deal with those 'stubborn' 'Heart-Devouring Demon'."

This plan... sounds like chumming the waters of absolute silence at the edge of the universe to fish for 'Sea of Chaos deep-water fish' to replenish our supplies and intelligence?

Excellence and Stardust exchanged a look, both seeing the heavy absurdity in each other's eyes, and beneath that absurdity, a trace of eagerness forced out by their desperate situation.

It sounds incredibly unreliable and fraught with danger, but it seems to be the only 'unorthodox method' in this current dead end that can actively create variables, secure resources, and break the stalemate.

It’s better than sitting here watching the energy bar tick down to zero, or closing our eyes and gambling on those four protocols, none of which look promising.

'Risk assessment?' Stardust was, as always, the pragmatist.

'As for the risks... First, the 'bait' fluctuations might attract things that aren't exactly 'gentle'. Although I've tuned the 'sieve' (Resonance frequency), the 'Sea of Chaos shallows' has everything in it; there's no guarantee some tough customers won't squeeze through.

Secondly, activating 'silence Resonance' will temporarily weaken the localized 'silence' force field. It's like cutting a small hole in a dam to drain water; the seepage from the other side of the gate might temporarily intensify a bit.

Finally, and most importantly, the 'conversion' process requires highly precise control. Your 'Power of Order' acts as the hand, and my 'core fragment' acts as the container. The 'fish' we catch will be lively and thorny; one slip, and the 'fish' might 'explode its scales' inside your brain, or contaminate and damage this 'container'.'

Mute didn't hold back, laying out the potential dangers clearly.

'Estimated success rate?' Excellence pressed.

'Depends on your craftsmanship, the 'fish's' temper, and luck. If you handle it right, remember the blueprint correctly, and your 'Power of Order' can hold steady, the success rate is... fifty-fifty.' Mute offered a very 'quack doctor' estimate.

Fifty-fifty... a gamble in a desperate situation. Win, and we might survive, find leads, or even discover the key to breaking this deadlock. Lose, and...

'Are we doing this?' Excellence’s gaze swept across the projections of Stardust and Evelyn, and he also sent an inquiry to 'White Elder' via their mental link.

The data stream in Stardust's eyes accelerated again as she frantically simulated various parameters and contingencies: 'Current energy can only sustain us for about 110 minutes. No other feasible alternatives exist. This plan introduces active variables and offers the possibility of acquiring energy and information, though the risk factor is extremely high. Recommendation: Proceed with attempts only after establishing comprehensive contingency plans, strictly controlling 'Resonance' intensity and duration, and remaining prepared to abort at any moment.'

'Seconded. The 'silence Boarding' protocol will remain on full standby as a final fail-safe.' Evelyn was concise.

'Lad, seeking survival amidst danger is not unreasonable. But you must know when to stop; a fish greedy for bait is easily consumed by it. Once you have made some gains, you must withdraw—do not linger in the fight.' The mental fluctuation from 'White Elder' arrived, carrying an elder’s concern and cautious permission.

'Fine! Senior Mute, send over that 'Fishing Blueprint'! We'll try our luck right here in your 'silence fish pond'!' Excellence gritted his teeth and made his decision. Better to take the initiative than sit and wait for death, even if what lies ahead is an unfathomable 'Chaos fish pond'!

'Splendid! Sending the blueprint over now! Keep an eye out for the incoming mental encoding! Also, I need to give you a heads-up,' Mute's voice suddenly took on an elusive tone—part schadenfreude, part embarrassment—'I've been in 'standby' for far too long, and the 'automatic environmental maintenance and expulsion system' inherent to this 'Silent Corridor'... might be a little... dilapidated and logically scrambled.'

'It might mistake the 'Resonance fishing' signal you're initiating for some kind of... 'illegal noise pollution' or 'unauthorized dimensional disturbance.' So, besides potentially catching the 'fish' you want, you might also inadvertently activate some... 'environmental maintenance gadgets' I set up when I was bored years ago to expel 'illegal intruders' and 'those who create discord'... um. You... might have to deal with them? Just consider it... paying a 'venue usage fee' and an 'environmental protection fee'?'

Excellence, Stardust, and Evelyn all froze in their tracks.

Gadgets? An automatic environmental maintenance and expulsion system? Venue usage fees? Environmental protection fees?

A strong sense of foreboding, like cold vines, instantly coiled around their hearts. The hole that 'Senior Mute' had dug seemed to have only just revealed the tip of the iceberg.

'What... kind of 'gadgets' are we talking about?' Excellence asked, his voice dry and cautious.

'Oh, relax, it's no big deal! They're just little trinkets created using the properties of the 'silence' field itself and a small amount of captured 'Chaos' properties, mainly serving as warnings and deterrents.' Mute's tone was breezy, but the content was anything but relaxing.

'For example... 'Touch of silence' (being touched causes a strong sense of voicelessness, accompanied by mental stagnation for a period of time), 'echo Labyrinth' (creates an area that constantly reflects and amplifies the intruder's distracting thoughts and fears, forming a mental trap), 'Concept Dilution Bubble' (a strange force field that can temporarily 'dilute' the 'self-existence concept' of low-dimensional entities, causing brief cognitive confusion, like thinking you're a rock or that your companion is a potato).'

'Rest assured, I've set the power to the lowest setting. With your skills, handling them should... probably... perhaps... be no problem, right?' His voice grew weaker as he spoke, trailing off until it was almost inaudible.

Excellence: '...'

Was it too late to say, 'We're not fishing anymore; we'll just sit here and wait quietly for death'?

However, the arrow was already on the string. Under Evelyn's direction, the crude 'silence Resonance fishing device' had been assembled at several non-critical Nodes on the ship's exterior. The ship's energy reserves were approaching the red line at a speed visible to the naked eye.

'All units, final check!' Excellence took a deep breath, his gaze sweeping across the chilling, gray, absolute silence outside the porthole, finally settling on the giant gate in the distance that seemed as immutable as time itself.

'Fishing device' ready, energy output channels stable. The ship's basic shields have been raised to maximum, though their effectiveness against the anticipated 'silence'-related attack patterns remains questionable.

Evelyn reported.

'All combat and emergency units are in position. Contingency plans are loaded. 'Power of Order' guidance and stabilization programs are ready.' Stardust checked her equipment, then looked at Excellence, her eyes grave.

'I shall do my utmost to protect your minds and resist any potential mental erosion and conceptual interference.' The mental link from 'White Elder' conveyed warm, steadfast support.

'Then...' Excellence placed his hand once more on the containment canister of the 'stone of silence,' this time using it as the 'bait core' and 'energy stabilizer.'

'Activate 'silence Resonance fishing'! Initial power... twenty percent! Duration... for this first attempt, twenty seconds! Senior Mute, we're starting!'

With the command given, Evelyn activated the crudely fashioned devices, which flickered with unstable gray halos.

There was no earth-shattering sound, but a strange sensation began to permeate the air. It was as if a 'silence vortex,' specifically designed to 'adsorb' certain 'entities,' was slowly forming around the ship, sending out indescribable 'ripples' into the surrounding gray mirror-like void.

It was like dropping a specially crafted piece of bait, radiating strange fluctuations, into an absolutely calm, bottomless pool of water.

Almost immediately, they observed a change.

In the distance, the faint silver luster flowing across the surfaces of those massive black crystals—which had previously floated like dead objects—suddenly began to flicker in a disordered, irregular fashion, as if disturbed by these 'ripples.'

Immediately afterward, several small 'cracks' with edges shimmering in chaotic, iridescent light tore open without warning on a gray 'substrate' that had been smooth as a mirror just a few hundred meters ahead! It was as if space itself had been 'licked' into a wound by some invisible force.

Even more hair-raising was the sight behind and to the sides of their ship: several blurry, constantly twisting and shifting 'shadows' composed of pure 'silence' were slowly 'seeping' out of the 'mirror' substrate.

They had no fixed form; at times stretching into tentacles, at others curling into vortices, or unfolding into silent, gaping maws. They drifted slowly toward the 'ranger'—or more accurately, toward the device on the ship's exterior that was emitting the 'bait fluctuations'—silently, yet with a distinct sense of 'purpose.'

Mute’s voice, carrying a mix of schadenfreude, embarrassment, and an 'I told you so' tone, echoed perfectly in their minds:

'Aha... looks like the 'environmental maintenance gadgets' have been awakened by the 'noise' and are starting their shift... wishing you... happy fishing? Oh, a friendly tip: try your best not to get touched by the 'Touch of silence'; that feeling is worse than working overtime for a month. Whatever you do, don't get trapped in the 'echo Labyrinth'; scaring yourself to death is the worst. And stay away from the 'Concept Dilution Bubble.' If that stuff touches you, you might temporarily believe the ship's engine is made of cotton candy, or feel a strong urge to plant yourself in a flower pot... The duration depends on your constitution, usually ranging from a few minutes to a few hours...'

Excellence: '!!!'

Stardust: '...' (silently aimed her weapon and several improvised 'silence jammers' at the nearest 'shadow of silence.')

Evelyn: '... 'silence Boarding' protocol trigger threshold adjusted. Entering high-alert status.'

'White Elder': '... (a deep silence, accompanied by a wordless sigh)'

The desperate adventure codenamed 'Chaos Fishing' had officially begun, marked by the 'kind greetings' of the 'environmental maintenance squad' (automatic defense mechanisms) dispatched by the 'site management'! The 'Chaos fish' they sought to catch, along with the 'management fee collectors' they were forced to face, were already closing in on the bait—and the fishermen themselves!

This damned end of the universe, filled with surprises, tropes, and dark humor! As Excellence gritted his teeth and injected purer 'Power of Order' into the 'stone of silence,' preparing to face this 'fish run' and 'municipal enforcement' in both physical and mental senses, he was frantically redefining his lower limits for what constituted an 'ancient existence' and a 'cosmic crisis.'

It seemed that getting any benefits from territory under the jurisdiction of 'Senior Mute' would be impossible without first passing the test of his 'dilapidated' 'environmental maintenance gadgets'! And whether this desperate 'fishing' expedition would yield the 'catch' needed to survive, result in them being buried in a 'fish's belly,' or see them hauled away by the 'municipal enforcement,' was only just beginning...