Puzzle Madness

Chapter 149 Howling (Part 2)

On the other end, the researchers at the Human Cataloging Center didn't even retreat: this was clearly a rare escape window, and even DouDou was briefly held back by curiosity.

Several researchers finished stopping the bleeding and treating the wounds, then took out a folding stretcher and carried the wounded man who had lost an arm away in the pouring rain.

Most of the crates had already been opened, and as the remaining ones were unsealed, more [sphere] subspecies emerged: considering the prefix "human," their storage methods were surprisingly convenient.

The remaining researchers were scattered in twos and threes around the rain shelter, or even approached the back of the still swaying [flower bushes] and stood close to the waving hands.

They watched as the remaining [spheres] leaped and bounded, catching up with the catalogers' line; some even stood on tiptoe in the rain, pulling out paper and pens of questionable waterproof quality to scribble and doodle, seemingly even writing observation reports.

It was either a case of faith in the cataloger outweighing fear, or a complete disregard for life and death: this was truly rare. After all, they had clearly been running faster than rabbits when they first made contact on the beach.

DouDou found a more comfortable position: squatting down and swaying her body with her toes; she didn't have time to worry about the researchers now.

The cataloger was still scurrying around, carried by the [sphere], crawling around like a giant cockroach; seemingly trying to evade DouDou's locked-on attack.

The howling created a thinner fog; it lingered in the silent downpour, like a feverish dream. The catalogers and the [spheres] moved in and out of the white clouds from time to time, appearing and disappearing; they became monsters in the dream.

[Keep moving/Don't stop/Don't stop/Change position].

To be so open and honest about "thinking" about tactics is truly generous.
However, DouDou had no intention of beating him up right now.

Now it can be said that DouDou is giving the opponent [showtime]: it's a bit like a judge in a reality show, who can't immediately press the red light and make the contestant leave the stage.

Moreover, the cataloger's physical condition is obviously not much different from that of an ordinary person, so naturally you have to give him a few more chances; if you act recklessly and accidentally break or kill him, wouldn't that mean you'd lose something fun to watch?

DouDou rested her elbows on her knees and her fists against her chin; the back of her head felt cool.
Those screaming mouths must be [human subspecies], right? But they only have tongues and no other organs; where are the sound waves coming from? Maybe they're not even sound waves at all?

Leaving aside the mechanism by which the opening at the back of one's head is formed, do these [spheres] even have brains? Where are their life support systems? Could they all be rearranged, compressed, and stuck inside that one-meter-square metal shell?

The tongues on the sticky mouse traps are even more bizarre:
How can a tongue, without vocal cords, trachea, and lungs, "speak"? Let alone produce sound waves; at most, it can only twitch a few times.

So perhaps it follows a different mechanism. Just like DouDou thought before: [phenomena] and symbols, etc.? As long as there is the action of "calling", it's enough?
However, it's not clear in the short term:
The division of labor is quite clear. Those balls carry people on their backs, while these mouths shout and yell to emit sound waves.

[No, it's more like a directional sound beam! The main destructive range is only this relatively wide straight line, covering a distance of about 100 meters? Two hundred meters? And depending on the direction, the researchers behind him are all unharmed.]

[They don't really have much influence over me; maybe their words aren't forceful enough.]

This cataloguer acts as a commander via psycho-communication; if there were a more powerful [human subspecies], he could probably pull off even more amazing feats, right? Like in a role-playing game, it all comes down to how good his equipment is.

Are all the "catalogers" in human cataloging centers this kind of mind-broadcasting fanaticism? Or do they each have different superpowers, and the human subspecies they are paired with also differ?
Regardless, this cataloger's setup should be quite good for fighting other fanatics: decent mobility, all-terrain capability, and this kind of mid-range attack capability; he's like a spider tank from a space opera.

Whether those long-tongued creatures are spitting out sound waves, resonances, or other strange contraptions, they all possess the strength to shatter wood. If an ordinary person were enveloped within them, they would likely bleed from all seven orifices, suffer internal organ displacement, and experience neurological disorders.

I just don't know how resilient they are. After all, catalogers don't wear any armor; they're mostly just ordinary mortals.

[Oh dear! If only the witch in the building were here; it would be more interesting if the two of them fought. I was just saying we could hold a grand martial arts tournament.]

DouDou touched the large mouth on the back of his head. He wasn't sure if it was just his imagination, but it seemed smaller and shorter than it had a moment ago.
[By the way, did I also become a human subspecies? Then can he control me? He can't right now. What if I get closer? Could it amplify his frenzy? I'll test that out later.]

In the afternoon, Sidney said that DouDou could enhance other people's psychedelic abilities, but he still didn't know if it was true or not.

[Perhaps individual limbs or organs lack any cognitive ability, yet he can control them. Their mouths, these dwarf balls probably don't have brains either. And those hands! Those waving hands, that [flower patch] is probably a subspecies.]

He lowered his head and flexed his hands:

If I tear off one side of my arm, will it grow back? Or will it just move around on its own?
-
It wasn't just DouDou who was daydreaming. The cataloger's mind also became active as things shifted and changed:
[No effect at all/Useless/Cannot kill/How is that possible/How is that possible/No way/].

[Let's try switching to something else/Give it a try?/Let's try it/But...Howl isn't working/Try that one/The subspecies is easier to use than before]
One of the spheres suddenly slipped and fell while running, almost rolling off the roof; it was then pulled back into the line by its "companions": perhaps it was influenced by the cataloger's sudden and intense thinking.

Hearing this fresh idea, Dou Dou perked up and quickly stood up straight:

[Try what? Try it! Be brave, try it if you want to!]
He opened his mouth wide, but his words were silent; it was unclear whether his encouragement reached the cataloger's ears.

The direction and range of those long-tongued howls were clearly discernible in the rain: no matter where the [sticky mouse trap] turned, a wide cylinder shrouded in white mist would appear out of nowhere, the rainwater disappearing and leaving a white mark.

The mental broadcast didn't just cover DouDou's mind. On the other side, some researchers were also trying their best to make silent shouts, jumping around; their arms were stretched out and crossed diagonally, trying to make an X above their heads.

They were like coaches on the sidelines, shouting and gesturing as they silently conveyed their tactics.
The meaning is clear: it is opposition.

DouDou got a little annoyed and quickly cupped her hands in front of her face like a megaphone, trying to shout her rebuttal:
[Let them experiment if they want, why are they causing trouble!]
Although he couldn't understand what the cataloguer was trying to achieve, he believed that watching a play meant seeing the whole thing, and missing any parts meant missing out on the experience.

The cataloger probably couldn't hear the warnings from his researchers either:
The [spheres] surrounding the cataloger suddenly climbed onto the "carriage," reached out, picked up the heavy, thick [sticky mouse trap], and closed it: the long tongues were stuffed back into the thick metal plate.

Blah blah blah
DouDou could hear the sound of raindrops hitting the ground again; after the howling stopped, the pattering sound of the rain hitting the wooden planks suddenly became clear.

(End of this chapter)