"Three months?" Xia Lun narrowed his eyes.
Flathead glanced warily at the desolate, ruined street, then took off his motorcycle helmet, revealing a thin face marked by a scar.
"At the start of the Scenario, I touched Heronman while he was tied up in that hidden compartment, and then I lost consciousness. When I woke up, I was here. From what you're saying, did three months not pass for you?"
"No." Xia Lun studied the scar on Flathead's malnourished face. "For me, this Scenario has moved quickly. It's been less than four hours since it began."
There was no doubt that time flowed at different rates in the deep and surface layers of the dream. Time passed faster in the deep layer where he now stood. But something still didn't add up. Judging by White Line's rate of speech, the ratio was only about one to two. According to the Buzz-Cut Brawny Man's perception, though, it was nearly one to five hundred and sixty.
Could the ratio between the deep and shallow layers of the dream be different for each person?
Xia Lun thought for a moment, then decided to stop dwelling on it. This was the dream of the Evil God Nuo-Mask Plague, after all. It was only reasonable for parts of it to defy logic.
Whatever the reason, it was good news for him. It meant he had more time to act.
With that in mind, he immediately used the Mindvoice Earbud to tell White Line what he had discovered. He also warned her that something was indeed wrong with the Buzz-Cut Brawny Man.
Because of the difference in the flow of time, White Line did not reply at once.
Suddenly, Flathead stopped walking.
"Lord Xia Lun, I should have died after I arrived here. But I met