But when he truly calmed down, A’Bing understood with a chill down his spine that this wasn’t a dream, and those experiences were even less so.

He had genuinely been taken somewhere, forced to find fault with others who had also been taken there. The losers were executed, their heads chopped off like cutting melons.

But why hadn’t he died? After passing out and waking up, he was sleeping in this guesthouse?

The more he thought, the more confused he became. He hastily packed his luggage and hurried downstairs. Passing the front desk, he desperately wanted to ask who had sent him here. But he didn’t dare. What if those people didn’t plan to let him go? What if the front desk was in cahoots with them?

He didn’t dare do much of anything. His phone was gone. His bag only contained an unfamiliar phone.

He hesitated for a moment, not daring to turn it on. After running about a hundred meters down the street, he cautiously asked an old man where this was.

The old man looked at him strangely, speaking a dialect he could barely understand. He struggled to communicate and finally learned that if he walked southwest for a quarter hour, he’d reach the minibus station.

He had to leave here immediately, anywhere would do. Once he got out, he’d report to the police!

At the minibus station, he saw the nearest big city was Xiarong City, but the minibus could only go to the county town. Without thinking twice, he first bought a ticket to the county town.

After making his way to Xiarong City, he nearly rushed into the police station beside the bus station.

But when it came down to actually reporting, he hesitated instead.

He had no idea about those people’s background. How exactly did they imprison a large group of people? Could ordinary people do that? Did they have a protective umbrella?

This matter couldn’t be thought through carefully.

He backed away step by step, not daring to stay in Xiarong City, not even daring to take public transportation. He took a black car back to his home city.

Only when he got home did he feel somewhat grounded. He thought of A’Meng, his classmate.

A’Meng had lost to him and should theoretically have been executed. But he hadn’t died—what about A’Meng? Was she also alive, returning home a step ahead of him?

He bought a new phone, got a new card, and asked old classmates about A’Meng. After several rounds, his classmates teased him, “You little rascal, did you find out A’Meng got prettier and now you’re interested in her?”

He deflected and came to A’Meng’s company building following the address, his heart nearly jumping out from nervousness.

When A’Meng came downstairs and saw him, the terror in her eyes couldn’t be hidden.

In this instant, they became the people who understood each other best in the world.

“Follow me. Let’s talk somewhere else.” A’Meng passed by him, dropping a tightly wound sentence.

The two walked into a student bookstore, one after another, maintaining several meters’ distance.

It was noisy inside. The children’s shouting formed a natural barrier.

A’Bing stared at A’Meng’s face, saying with difficulty, “You…”

“I came back alive, but I don’t know why.” A’Meng was very frightened. She had managed with great difficulty to convince herself that experience was just a nightmare, but A’Bing’s appearance shattered her illusion.

“I, I’m also alive.” A’Bing grabbed his hair. “I don’t understand what’s going on!”

A’Meng was silent, her gaze containing scrutiny. Perhaps finally seeing in A’Bing’s face her own initial panic, she said, “I don’t know much more than you, but I got out earlier than you and thought about things more. Let me ask you—why did you end up in that cave?”

A’Bing opened his mouth, “I…”

A’Meng said, “You and I aren’t friends, but besides me, you have no one to confide in. Same for me.”

A’Bing calmed down and nodded. “I accidentally got on a website…”

That website’s logo was a collapsed wall. There were many videos—some similar to real-person adventures, some were verbal battles, some showed masked people talking about how inferior and imperfect this world was.

He was very interested in the adventure and fault-finding games. People accused each other of the depths of human depravity, like an offline version of online flame wars. In reality, he wouldn’t dare point at someone’s nose and accuse them like that, but if given such an “arena,” he’d love to let himself loose.

He’d secretly searched for this website but couldn’t find it—he could only log in through the special entrance he’d obtained. He felt like a chosen one. Two months ago, after receiving the invitation, he immediately prepared, requesting annual leave early. On November 1st, a car waited punctually at the agreed location.

“Shortly after getting in the car, I fell asleep.” A’Bing said, “When I woke up, I was in the cave. I didn’t know where that was at the time.”

A’Meng said, “It’s in the mountains at the southernmost part of Xiarong City.”

A’Bing’s blood surged, “Yes! You investigated it too?”

A’Meng mentioned a small town where she woke up in a hotel. A’Bing froze—he and A’Meng didn’t wake up in the same town!

But A’Meng didn’t seem surprised. “They couldn’t dump all of us in the same town—that would draw unnecessary attention. Like you, I also accidentally obtained an entrance, got on that website, was attracted by the content, and participated voluntarily.”

Taking a deep breath, as if suppressing boiling fear, A’Meng continued, “After I returned, I could never access that website again. I kept thinking about what this was all about. I guess we might be their test subjects.”

“Test subjects?”

“How else to explain it?” A’Meng was slightly agitated. “They used us for a human nature experiment, but I don’t know what they were trying to verify. They said losers would all die and killed the defeated in front of us. But those were actually all props. No one died. The losers were separately dumped in various townships. When they woke up, it was like having a dream.”

A’Bing frowned tightly. “I don’t understand.”

“I don’t understand either. But not understanding might be the best outcome.” A’Meng said, “Do you want to investigate the truth? Do you have that ability?”

A’Bing instinctively shook his head. “I, I almost reported to police, but I didn’t dare.”

“Me too.” A’Meng sighed. “My life seems to have returned to its original track. As long as I don’t think about it, I won’t feel afraid, and they won’t appear again. I’m just an ordinary person. All I can do is stop gazing into the abyss.”

A’Bing was silent. In powerlessness and helplessness, he empathized deeply.

“Speaking of which, we fell for it precisely because we were too interested in that website, right?” A’Meng consoled herself. “Maybe if we stop investigating, over time, this matter will truly become just a nightmare.”

Confiding in each other was better than being frightened alone. When leaving the bookstore, A’Bing felt much more relaxed. He and A’Meng agreed that from now on, neither would mention this matter, and neither could investigate it.

Xiarong City.

The Major Crimes Unit’s investigation of Zhang Chunquan and Zhao Jie was stuck. Physical evidence proved Zhao Jie was the culprit behind the suspension bridge collapse, but he remained tight-lipped—neither admitting the crime nor explaining his motive.

A strange criminal organization emerged in outline through the fog. Both Zhang and Zhao’s summer disappearances and current behavior were related to this organization. But what the police currently knew was merely that they’d utilized the “Floating Light” dark web.

Shen Xi had exhausted all traces on Zhao Jie’s electronic devices, but when he confronted the entire “Floating Light” dark web, all important content couldn’t be detected.

More people were disappearing, but the disappearance cases the Major Crimes Unit had grasped were only these two—Yu Dalong and Xue Bin. Both remained without any news. Fang Yuanhang was extremely worried about his friend.

“Not ‘only,’ but ‘already.'” Ling Lie said, “Don’t you think finding these two cases among countless disappearances is already unprecedented?”

The conference room fell silent. But everyone understood this was indeed a huge breakthrough. Without cooperation from Dongye City and Feng City, even if they discovered that “Collapsed Building” gang’s existence, they’d have nowhere to start. Perhaps they’d have to wait for new murders to occur before belatedly discovering new victims had appeared.

“Yu Dalong and Xue Bin definitely aren’t dead and will return completely unharmed.” Ling Lie said.

Fang Yuanhang sat up straight at once, eyes brightening.

Ling Lie pressed on his shoulder. “I’m not being blindly optimistic—this is based on judging from the previous four people. Assuming Yong Huihao and Tang Qi were the first batch, Zhang Chunquan and Zhao Jie the second, Yu Dalong and Xue Bin the third. After Yong and Tang returned, they continued working. Whether they were affected, no one knew what they’d experienced—they were silenced by ‘Floating Light’ afterward. Zhang and Zhao were affected—one committed suicide, one killed. None of them died during their disappearance period.”

Fang Yuanhang swallowed. “The deciding factor appeared after they returned to their original lives? But what’s the ‘Collapsed Building’ selection criteria?”

Ling Lie shook his head. “Don’t know.”

Shen Xi said, “Do they all have some psychological shadow? Yu Dalong has a painful past, Xue Bin regrets a mistake he made.”

“It’s too early to discuss criteria.” Ji Chenjiao said, “Everyone has psychological shadows. We’re no different from the missing people. This doesn’t constitute an independent standard.”

Shen Xi scratched his head. “Then what do we do?”

“Our advantage is that we already know about Yu Dalong and Xue Bin’s relationship with ‘Collapsed Wall’ before they return.” Ji Chenjiao looked at the analysis sketch before him, frowning. “Each of them concealed their disappearance—maybe out of fear, maybe they have other plans, or maybe they were brainwashed. Even if we pull them in front of us to question, they might not talk. So communication requires not only skill but also…”

Speaking, he looked toward Fang Yuanhang. Fang Yuanhang involuntarily sat up straighter.

“Trust and closeness.” Ji Chenjiao said.

“‘Collapsed Building’s’ selection has progression.” Ling Lie said, “By Yu Dalong, it’s already obvious—they need people who can get close to police.”

Fang Yuanhang said, “But why?”

Ling Lie said, “I don’t know either. This might be a group of very extreme people detached from reality. Colloquially speaking, lunatics. Brother Hang, once Yu Dalong returns, your role will be greater than any of us.”

Fang Yuanhang quickly stood. “Teacher Ling, just call me Xiao Fang!”

Before departure, he’d asked Ming Shu what kind of person Ling Lie was. Ming Shu said he’s a dog, more dog than dogs—call him Ling the Dog.

He didn’t dare call him that. Besides, getting along with him, he felt Teacher Ling had a very dignified teacher demeanor. Where was he doglike?

Ling Lie laughed twice, not arguing with Fang Yuanhang about the form of address.

Xiarong City, Dongye City, and Feng City all monitored Yu Dalong and Xue Bin’s communications constantly. As soon as they used their phones, they’d immediately be located.

But the Major Crimes Unit wouldn’t just wait passively. Zhao Jie was alive—Ji Chenjiao had to find ways to pry open his mouth.

“Two people are still in critical condition, one of whom is an intern you mentored.” Ji Chenjiao watched Zhao Jie. “Several people survived but can only spend the rest of their lives lying in bed.”

Zhao Jie laughed contemptuously. His right hand wanted to push his glasses, but there were no glasses on his nose bridge anymore. He’d actively abandoned his glasses, facing police with blurred vision. Perhaps this would make emotions duller, building an invisible barrier.

“Your colleagues and superiors don’t believe you could do such a thing.” Ji Chenjiao’s speech was calm, like casual conversation. “They say you must have been threatened or mentally controlled.”

Zhao Jie remained unmoved.

“By the way, do you know who cried hardest for you?”

Zhao Jie raised an eyebrow. “Cried? For me?”

Ji Chenjiao said, “Very surprised? Think no one should cry for you?”

Zhao Jie pursed his lips, looking genuinely puzzled by this.

“It was the girl you shielded behind you, Xiao Huan. She said everyone present that day could potentially commit crime, except you.” Ji Chenjiao shrugged. “Because you protected her, in her eyes, you’re a good person.”

Zhao Jie lowered his head, expression hidden. Soon his shoulders trembled, laughter squeezing from his throat. “Look at the trash school education produces! Good person? Where are so many good people?”

Ji Chenjiao said, “Agreed.”

Zhao Jie’s laughter stopped, eyes wary.

“Purely good people almost don’t exist.” Ji Chenjiao said, “The vast majority are people who are half good, half bad—bad but not bad to the extreme.”

Zhao Jie seemed to remember something, looking away, no longer meeting Ji Chenjiao’s eyes.

“I’m still curious what you saw on that website, what you did with them when you disappeared.” Ji Chenjiao said, “They reshaped you, but why reshape you? What value do you have to them? Is turning you into a knife their purpose? To take revenge on society, cause six deaths and many serious injuries—there are obviously easier methods. Why specifically you?”

Zhao Jie opened his mouth, his nearsighted eyes unfocused.

Ji Chenjiao said, “No choice is meaningless. They created such a big spectacle because it had to be you. Or, people like you? What’s special about you? Thinking about it, your specialty might be that you’re a programmer, an excellent programmer?”

Zhao Jie’s cheeks twitched twice, breathing trending toward rapid.

Ji Chenjiao had recently come to understand Zhao Jie’s work history and scope clearly. Zhao Jie had considerable achievements in underlying network construction. Connecting this to “Collapsed Building” relying on “Floating Light,” the reason Zhao Jie was targeted might be this job, this technology.

Ji Chenjiao smiled. “Don’t be nervous. Today is just chatting. I have no evidence—I’m just saying whatever comes to mind.”

Presently, Zhao Jie suddenly mumbled out a sentence: “…guilty.”

Ji Chenjiao didn’t hear clearly. “What’s guilty?”

But Zhao Jie sighed deeply, shaking his head without speaking.

In anxious yet tense waiting, news suddenly came from Feng City—Xue Bin’s account had logged in around Feng City!

But Xue Bin didn’t enter Feng City, didn’t contact Zeng Shu who was close to him. He bought a plane ticket, preparing to go abroad.

Huang Yi immediately led a team to the airport to find him. When Xue Bin saw a group of plainclothes officers rushing toward him, his spirit was in a trance—he didn’t react at all to what was happening.

“Xue Bin seems stupefied. No matter how I ask, he doesn’t respond.” Huang Yi had just settled Xue Bin in the hospital when he called Ji Chenjiao. “He has some bruises, but we examined them—not serious injuries, caused by bumps and knocks. The key is his mental problem. He only wants to go abroad.”

Ji Chenjiao instructed they must stabilize Xue Bin and protect his safety. Huang Yi guaranteed, “Rest assured about this!”

“As expected.” Ling Lie said, “Given Xue Bin’s psychological endurance, it’s already remarkable he hasn’t gone crazy yet. When Zhang Chunquan returned, his condition was probably similar.”

Ji Chenjiao pondered. “If there’s no one around paying attention, no police watching, they’ll gradually digest this experience—either hiding it or ending their lives in pain like Zhang Chunquan.”

Ling Lie said, “They might also choose the most extreme method like Zhao Jie.”

Ji Chenjiao looked at the timetable. “Calculating from the previous two times, Yu Dalong should appear very soon.”

“He’s even more critical than Xue Bin.”

Yu Dalong ran in the thick morning fog until he couldn’t breathe and fell to the ground. His eyes were full of fear, fear materialized into tears.

He forced himself to calm down, rummaging through his bag for personal items.

But his phone was gone—only an unfamiliar, brand-new phone. He didn’t dare use it at all.

Today was the third day since leaving that place. Trembling, he received a second-hand phone from a vendor, inserted a rarely-used card, and turned it on.

Five minutes later, in Xiarong City’s Major Crimes Unit, Fang Yuanhang tore off his headphones and ran madly downstairs.