Chapter 93: The Museum
It was a long-abandoned theater, its name and purpose forgotten by nearly everyone. No one had stepped through its doors for countless years, yet now, its old ticket booth was suddenly lit with a bright, eerie glow. Inside that booth, an ancient ticket machine began to creak and groan. With each painful-sounding click, it spat out a roll of red admission tickets into the air, as if answering some invisible call. To an ordinary observer, this would have seemed utterly impossible. But Little Red Riding Hood stood there quietly, watching the whole thing with a calm, steady gaze, as if this were nothing unusual. It seemed as though such strange occurrences were as common to her as the sunrise.
After a few moments, the rattling stopped. Three old-fashioned, rectangular tickets—still connected to each other—fell onto the dusty windowsill inside the booth. Little Red Riding Hood blinked once but did not reach for them right away. Instead, she gently rapped her knuckles against the glass of the booth.
“Excuse me,” she called out, her voice sure and clear. “We need four tickets! Four people are going in!”
Silence hung in the air. For several seconds, there was no reply whatsoever. Little Red Riding Hood raised her hand to knock again, but before she could tap, the lights inside the booth flickered a few times, as if something there were losing power, and then went completely dark. Not a single glow remained, leaving only those three red tickets resting on the dusty surface.
Yu Sheng, who had been watching this unusual scene with narrowed eyes, looked around at the group—there were four of them, after all—and gave a soft, puzzled cough. “Um,” he said, turning to Little Red Riding Hood, “what’s going on here?”
“I really don’t know,” she answered, sounding honestly uncertain. “This has never happened before.” She reached in and plucked up the three tickets, holding them between her fingers. Then, she looked at Yu Sheng, Foxy, and Irene. “This entrance to the ‘Museum’ is supposed to respond perfectly to all valid requests. It’s tied to specific times—every hour and half-hour after sunset. It’s never failed to recognize a proper request for entry.” She paused, frowning. “I’ve never once seen it make a mistake.”
Yu Sheng’s eyebrows drew together as he scanned the small group, counting heads again. They needed four tickets—there were four of them. His gaze landed on Irene, who stood there looking uneasy under his stare. She shifted from foot to foot, then looked up at him, her doll-like face scrunched into a pout. “What are you staring at me for?” she asked defensively.
“Um,” Yu Sheng began, hesitating slightly, “I was just wondering… could it be that children under one meter tall get in for free?”
For a heartbeat, Irene froze. Then, her cheeks flamed scarlet, and she nearly exploded with fury. Her voice rose with an outraged squeak, “You think I’m a child?! You’re the child! Your whole family are children! How dare you say something like that to a grown, mature lady like me! Do you have any idea how insulting that is?!”