Han Mian recognized the man the instant he saw him.

  He was also a victim's family member—the older brother of the girl with the ponytail who died on the second floor of the castle.

  Over the years, apart from that wealthy couple, he was the one who had sought Han Mian out the most. However, that was only in the earlier years. Starting about six or seven years ago, Han Mian hadn't seen him much, as if he had simply vanished.

  Han Mian remained cautious, slowly looking up at the other man and tightening his grip on his backpack. "Everything I know, I've already told you."

  "Whether you believe me or not, I have nothing more to say."

  Song Chushi sensed Han Mian's wariness and abandoned his attempt to shake hands, nodding instead. "I understand."

  "I've returned to Qinggang City this time not to revisit old grievances with you, Mr. Han. I was just wondering if you might be willing to find a place to sit and talk?"

  "Huh?"

  Han Mian was slightly taken aback and looked up at him.

  A few minutes later, Han Mian sat down with him in a nearby dumpling shop. Two bowls of egg yolk dumpling wontons were placed before them.

  Song Chushi took off his glasses, pulled over a napkin to wipe his mouth, and spoke softly to Han Mian. "What happened ten years ago was difficult for everyone involved."

  "At the time, many believed you were lying, or that you had lost your memory, replacing it with some impractical fantasies. So they kept waiting for you to recall some valuable clues."

  "But I believed you, Mr. Han."

  "I saw your condition right after you escaped; the fear on your face was real. Afterwards, I reviewed the videos of your interrogations by the Security Bureau many times, studied your class's entire itinerary, the time of the disappearance, the time you escaped."

  "Although I never found the 'Dark Castle' you described, judging by the timeline, the incident location should indeed have been close to where you indicated."

  "And over all these years, with so many forces conducting in-depth investigations, turning that entire area upside down, yet not finding a single clue—that in itself is rather unreasonable."

  "..."

  Listening to his words, Han Mian looked up in surprise.

  Ever since he told the Security Bureau about the Dark Castle as a child, no one—not the newspapers, the experts, nor the victims' families—had ever believed him.

  Apart from Xu Ji, who believed whatever he said, this person was the first.

  He fell silent for a moment, put down his spoon, and asked quietly, "So what do you mean by coming to find me...?"

  "Before my sister's incident, I didn't really believe in so-called supernatural existences or ghosts and monsters. I have a Ph.D. from Qinggang University and am a Post-Radiation Era Relics Utilization Researcher. I believe in science and logic, not those Intangible and elusive things."

  Song Chushi let out a low sigh, gently rubbing his temples as he slowly continued. "But over these ten years, in order to uncover the truth about my sister's incident, I've investigated a great deal, even including some far-fetched theories."

  "I..."

  He seemed to want to say something but stopped, instead saying to Han Mian, "I've begun to waver, Mr. Han."

  Han Mian listened carefully to his words, feeling a slight stir in his heart.

  This man's identity was quite unusual.

  In this world, all relics and even records from the Radiation Era are considered the most dangerous and difficult to handle. The Administration has even legislated that entering these fields without approval is prohibited. The fact that this man could work in this field itself spoke to his capabilities.

  "I've discovered that this world seems to have many things that don't abide by the logic of reality."

  Song Chushi spoke slowly. "The reason I came this time is to ask if you could help me recall once more what happened back then?"

  "And the monsters you saw inside the Dark Castle?"

  "..."

  When Song Chushi made this request, his expression seemed apologetic, as if he too felt that forcing someone who escaped the clutches of a nightmare ten years ago to repeatedly recall painful memories was impolite.

  Faced with his earnest plea, Han Mian was somewhat surprised.

  After a moment of contemplation, he slowly nodded and said, "Alright."

  Actually, if you had asked Han Su to describe these things ten years ago, right after he escaped, he wouldn't have been able to provide clear details. He was too panicked back then, with no time to observe every detail inside the ancient castle.

  But now, after returning again and again, escaping time after time, everything is deeply etched in his memory.

  Upon hearing this, the other person was extremely pleased and quickly took out a notebook and a sharpened pencil.

  "The cause of the incident, I don't need to elaborate on."

  "It was when our class went on a trip to the science museum. We were very young at the time, didn't know the way, and somehow ended up at that place."

  "That place should have been a castle, or perhaps a prison. You could even call it a tower—it doesn't matter, because it seemed to have many levels connected by a spiral staircase, and on each level, there was a monster..."

  As Han Su began his account, his tone seemed devoid of inflection. "The monster guarding the door was a man with a face as pale as porcelain, wearing a black suit. He was very tall, probably... three meters or so, very thin, with countless withered vines coiled around his body..."

  As Han Su spoke, Song Chushi's pencil scratched across the paper, sketching rapidly—he was actually drawing quick sketches of the monsters.

  His skill was quite good; the drawings bore some resemblance to the monsters Han Su had seen.

  It's just a shame that no matter how accurate the drawings, they could never capture the oppressive feeling of facing those monsters in the body of a ten-year-old child.

  "At that time, we were all sitting in the elementary school bus. We felt a jolt, the sky seemed to turn dark, and when we opened our eyes, we were already in that courtyard filled with a rotting stench."

  Sitting across from Song Chushi, Han Su continued his story slowly. "The man with skin like porcelain led us into the castle."

  "Many monsters were sitting around a long table, as if having a banquet. They spoke in a language we couldn't understand. Or perhaps it wasn't speech at all, just the howling sounds of monsters—their language."

  "..."

  When Song Chushi heard this, his eyebrows twitched noticeably, and his expression grew much graver.

  Han Su went on. "They stared at us as if we were toys, or perhaps food. Then they carefully made their selections, taking the children they fancied upstairs."

  "A child who disobeyed started crying and was smashed to death by the monster in the black apron. Blood splattered across our faces, and then all the children forgot how to cry, unable to understand how a child's head could burst open like a watermelon and yet he didn't cry."

  "They were satisfied with our silence and examined us even more meticulously—looking at our eyes, teeth, the lines on our palms, eyebrows, ears. Some monsters seemed excited; some even drooled."

  "A monster wrapped entirely in a black cloak, like a noblewoman, picked out a girl with a ponytail..."

  "A monster with only half a body, who laughed like a goat, selected a little boy wearing glasses..."

  "And then there was a monster in a trench coat, its body bloated like that of a drowned giant. He carried away a girl who looked as pretty as a doll, wearing a white dress and a birthday crown on her head..."

  "By the way, her name was Li Xiaoman, the daughter of the Magic Box Group's chairman. Over these past ten years, her parents have often come to see me, asking about her whereabouts."

  "..."

  Song Chushi's hand, sketching, seemed to tremble slightly.

  After a long while, he looked at the patterns he had drawn and said in a low voice, "These... are the Withered Butler, the Flesh-Horned Lady, the Monk of Sacrifice, and the Pale Giant that were once reported in the newspapers..."

  Han Su snorted with a hint of mockery. "Yes."

  Back when Han Su first emerged, the Security Bureau interrogated him repeatedly. Journalists who were lying in wait also managed to obtain records of his questioning and reported on them extensively.

  Although no one believed Han Su's story, the case was too significant.

  They still reported the sequence of events he described in detail, even giving corresponding codenames to the monsters he depicted.

  However, although the coverage was extensive at the time, it was soon forgotten. It was unexpected that Song Chushi still remembered.

  After a long silence, Song Chushi finally looked up. "And then?"

  Han Su met his gaze frankly and said slowly, "Later, I escaped."

  "That girl with the ponytail was very brave, even a bit reckless. Though young, she must have trained regularly and was quite agile. She jumped out, knocked over a candlestick, started a big fire, and the terrified children all began to cry."

  At this point, Han Su paused for a moment, observing Song Chushi's expression. He didn't show any obvious grief, but his face seemed to grow indistinct.

  That was his younger sister.

  Han Su let out a soft sigh and said, "Because of that fire, or perhaps simply because the children were disobedient, the monsters grew very irritable. I took advantage of the chaos, slipped out through the door that hadn't yet closed, and dove into the rose bushes beside it."

  "I only remember scrambling through many thorns and vines, and then I just kept running, not daring to look back, until a search-and-rescue team spotted me."

  "Later, I pointed others in the direction of that castle, but as you know, nothing was ever found."

  "..."

  Han Su did his best to satisfy Song Chushi, telling him every detail he could remember, even the mysterious symbols from his memory. He sketched them out for him, stating with certainty that these were clues.

  Song Chushi also recorded everything very seriously, not missing a single trivial detail. But as their conversation was nearing its end, he suddenly stopped his sketching pen.

  His eyes seemed to sharpen and grow keen in that moment, entirely unlike his usual weary appearance. "Mr. Han, ten years have passed. How is it that you still remember so many details so clearly?"

  Seeing the scrutiny in the other man's eyes, Han Su suddenly gave a wry smile.

  He said quietly, "Over these past ten years, I've often had dreams, returning to that terrible place."

  "I've relived that experience again and again. Even if I wanted to forget, I couldn't. Even in my dreams, I keep trying, over and over, to save the other children..."