“Sigh…”
Han Su only managed to let out a breath, and in the next mont, he suddenly felt his body losing its weight, as if falling into an endless abyss, or like a bungee cord rapidly pulling him backward.
This backward pull was even faster than his body, even faster than light.
An endless dizziness made it hard for Han Su to tell where he was, until faint rustling sounds began entering his ears—mysterious and ancient.
Han Su abruptly opened his eyes and saw ahead a rusty iron gate slowly opening, and crows flying all around.
……
……
anwhile, inside the Disaster Managent Bureau, on the other side of the one‑way glass, Zhang Chiguo watched Han Su as the spell played; Han Su’s expression grew increasingly painful, and finally even showed so fear.
Zhang Chiguo’s heart was in his throat.
“Such a strong reaction?”
“Is this kid’s spirituality just too high, or is he contaminated so badly?”
“Would that an he fails the test because of it?”
“This kid was forced into this damned ss—he’s unlucky enough already. Surely they won't assign him to Group D7 as cannon fodder next?”
He vaguely sensed that the security personnel around him had beco so tense that they instinctively gripped their guns tighter, and their worries grew even stronger.
But just then, he suddenly noticed another change—his brow furrowed.
Under the spell’s playback, Han Su, struggling, suddenly and strangely closed his eyes, and even his breathing cald.
That guy… fell asleep?
The security personnel beside him had been so nervous their palms were sweating, but now they slowly relaxed their grip.
……
……
The air full of rot suddenly drilled into Han Su’s nostrils. He looked around again and confird where he was.
A school bus.
To be precise, it was a school bus entering through the slowly opening iron gate, leading into a manor with a dried‑up fountain and dead vines sprouting everywhere.
On the seats beside him sat children with innocent expressions—so wearing fine little suits and leather shoes, so in pretty dresses, others with ponytails—healthy and lively.
They were still the sa people.
Doll Girl, Pony‑tailed Girl, Tuxedo Boy, Bowl‑Cut Boy, Monkey‑Face…
Those children who had died before his eyes the last ti they escaped were now alive again on this bus, their faces still wearing that innocent expression.
Now they were staring wide‑eyed at the manor unfolding before them.
In their familiar city, filled with architects’ expressive works, they’d seen a lot—but this manor still gave them an ancient and gloomy feeling.
The manor was empty, with only one irregularly shaped, tall building standing solitary in its center.
Dark and deathly silent, like a monster crawling in the midst of the grounds.
“Sure enough, I’ve been kidnapped back again…”
In this mont, Han Su even found it hard to describe his feelings.
Although he’d long realized the intervals were shortening, he hadn’t expected them to shorten this fast.
If he’d been captured in under twenty‑four hours, how could he possibly have ti to investigate anything?
He even felt there was no point in escaping anymore.
Might as well just jump off a building!
…Wait, no?
That despair was just a montary instinctive reaction. Han Su very quickly realized sothing: perhaps this wasn’t entirely bad?
Actually, what was terrifying wasn’t this repeating kidnapping…
It was that ever‑shortening interval.
The rhythm of his abductions had gone from half a year to three months, and had shrunk bit by bit down to half a month—an orderly compression that left him no breathing room, no chance to resist.
And this ti…
From the pattern, it didn’t match the previous intervals of his kidnappings at all—didn’t this suggest that so kind of force or power was affecting the very event of his kidnapping?
Then what exactly was it?
A thought stirred in his mind—was it that mysterious voice he had just heard played by the Disaster Managent Bureau?
In such a short ti, he couldn’t be certain, but upon realizing this point, the frustration and pressure in his heart actually faded away.
Whether positive or negative, the fact that he had discovered in reality a factor that could influence the “kidnapping interval” was a kind of progress.
If the kidnapping could be triggered earlier, did that also an, to so extent, that it could be delayed, or even avoided?
“So…”
Han Su suppressed the faint excitent in his heart and silently made a decision—this ti, he had to return as quickly as possible to continue the investigation.
The “voice” was the key.
His experience at the Disaster Managent Bureau confird that he was now in the “future”, inching closer to the truth of the kidnapping case.
This was sothing that had never happened before, in all his many abductions and investigations.
This “future” needed to be extended as much as possible.
And this ti, he also needed to escape back to the future as quickly as he could.
After all, though the majority of his life lines, whether injured or not, would lead him to et Zhang Chiguo of the Public Security Bureau, be sent to the orphanage, get into Qinggang University, and continue his life…
There were still so strange life lines where, after returning, his surroundings had beco drastically different—even unfamiliar.
“Teacher, teacher, is this the Science Museum?”
“Where’s the machine?”
At that mont, so children on the bus had vaguely sensed sothing was wrong and began asking the teacher who had brought them.
But there was no answer—not from the driver nor the teacher responsible for their safety.
Both of them just sat silently in place, letting the school bus glide into the manor.
Han Su didn’t need to look to know that it was useless to seek their help—he had been kidnapped back so many tis, he already knew what they looked like.
At so point, they had turned into pale sculptures.
They might look only slightly dimd on the surface, but if struck forcefully, it would be revealed that their skin had turned into a stone-like, brittle filling material.
Kidnapping was inevitable.
He had once tried to escape the mont he was brought back—crawling out through the bus window or fleeing the yard—but he had been severely punished. So now, he just sat silently, waiting for the right mont.
“Teacher, teacher fell asleep…”
A naive child noticed sothing was off with the teacher and cried out clearly.
The bus filled with noise, though it was mostly still in a phase of curiosity and confusion.
These children mostly ca from well-off families, were overly protected, and still used to following adult instructions.
With the adults asleep, they beca a bit at a loss.
Not to ntion, so were now squirming in their seats, about to wet themselves.
“Shhha!”
Just then, the bus door quietly opened, and a gentle and elegant voice sounded from outside: “Welco to the Land of Dust…”
Except for Han Su, who had already seen that face countless tis, everyone was drawn to the voice—so even stood up—only to see an elderly man standing upright outside the bus.
He was thin, dressed in a deep black tuxedo, extrely dirty, stained with mud, dust, and unidentifiable gri, but still unusually neat, as if carefully ironed before wearing.
He had little hair left, but his two mustaches were trimd impeccably.
Even his face wore an unusually proper, amiable smile.
In any other setting, he would have looked like a professionally trained butler who took pride in his career.
Except for that face.
Ashen complexion, porcelain-like cracks across the surface, vaguely revealing dry veins and muscle fibers underneath—this bizarre appearance gave his standard posture and friendly smile a creepy strangeness.
“Teacher, teacher…”
That invisible sense of unease scared the children into crying out, shrinking back into the bus, trying to wake the sleeping teacher again.
The butler outside paid no mind, still smiling, and gently clapped his hands.
“Clap.”
“Clap.”
Two exceptionally crisp sounds.
Instantly, all the children in the bus fell silent.
Their expressions went blank.
One by one, they slowly stood up and began exiting the bus.
They stood in two lines beside the porcelain‑faced butler.
The castle doors slowly and heavily opened, carrying a mysterious and solemn aura, welcoming its special guests.
No one cried, no one fussed—they looked like soulless husks, slowly following the butler toward the castle.
Even Han Su obediently followed, pretending to be hypnotized.
He feared this old butler the most.
He was the only one inside the Ancient Castle who spoke normally, looked approachable, and didn’t seem to be one of the monsters—his status was one level higher.
Yet he was the strangest and cruelest of them all.
The entire kidnapping operation might have taken place under his watchful eye.
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