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"Sigh..."

Han Su only had time to sigh. The next moment, he suddenly felt weightless, as if he had fallen into an endless abyss, or as if an elastic cord were rapidly pulling him backward.

He was being pulled back so fast that he outpaced his own body—even light.

The endless dizziness left Han Su unable to tell where he was for a long time. Then faint rustling sounds began to reach his ears, mysterious and ancient.

Han Su snapped his eyes open. Ahead of him, a rusty iron gate was slowly swinging open, and crows filled the sky.

At that moment, inside the Disaster Management Bureau, Zhang Chiguo watched Han Su through the one-way glass as the Spell played. Han Su's expression grew more and more pained, and in the end, even showed traces of fear. Zhang Chiguo's heart was in his throat.

"Such a strong reaction?"

"Is this kid's spiritual sensitivity unusually high, or has he been contaminated too badly?"

"Could that mean he'll fail the test?"

"This kid's already unlucky enough to have been dragged into this damned mess. Surely they won't assign him to Group D7 as cannon fodder too?"

He vaguely noticed that the security personnel beside him were so tense they had instinctively gripped their guns. His worry grew even more intense.

But just then, he noticed another change and frowned tightly. Han Su, who had seemed unable to bear the Spell playing, suddenly closed his eyes. Even his breathing had grown steady.

Had this guy fallen asleep?

The security personnel beside him had been so tense that their palms were sweating. Now, they slowly relaxed their grip.

Air tinged with decay rushed into Han Su's nostrils. He looked around and confirmed where he was once again.

A school bus.

More precisely, a school bus driving through the slowly opening iron gate ahead and into a manor with a dried-up fountain and withered vines growing wild across the grounds.

Beside him sat one little child after another, each wearing a bewildered expression. Some wore smart little suits and leather shoes; others wore pretty dresses or had their hair tied back in ponytails. They all looked healthy and full of energy.

They were the same people. They were all here.

The doll, the ponytail, the tailcoat, Pot Lid Head, skinny monkey...

The children who had died one by one before his eyes the last time he escaped had reappeared in the school bus, alive and well, still wearing those same innocent, bewildered expressions.

Now they were staring wide-eyed at the manor before them.

The city they lived in was familiar to them, and full of buildings where architects had shown off their individuality. None of them could be called inexperienced, yet the manor before them still gave them an ancient, gloomy feeling.

The grounds were empty. Only in the very center stood a lone, towering building of irregular shape.

Dark and lifeless, like a monster crouching in the middle of the manor.

"Sure enough, I've been kidnapped and brought back again..."

At that moment, Han Su could hardly describe how he felt.

He had realized the intervals were getting shorter, but he hadn't expected them to shrink this fast.

If he was brought back in less than twenty-four hours, how would he have time to investigate anything?

He might as well jump straight off a building!

...Wait.

The dejection was just an instinctive, fleeting emotion. Han Su quickly realized something else: perhaps this wasn't a bad thing?

What was frightening was the regular shortening of the intervals.

The intervals between his kidnappings had gone from six months to three, then gradually shortened to half a month. It was an orderly, relentless squeeze that left him unable to breathe, let alone fight back.

But this time...

The timing didn't fit any of the intervals from before. Did that mean something—or some force—had affected his kidnapping?

What could it be?

A thought stirred in his mind. Was it the mysterious voice the Disaster Management Bureau had just played for him?

He couldn't be sure yet, but once he understood that much, his despondency and pressure began to fade.

Whether the effect was positive or negative, discovering a factor in the real world that could affect the "kidnapping interval" was progress.

If it could make the kidnapping happen sooner, did that mean that, to some extent, it could also delay it—or even help him avoid it?

"So..."

Han Su suppressed his growing excitement and made up his mind: this time, he had to get back as soon as possible and continue investigating.

The "voice" was the key.

His experience at the Disaster Management Bureau let him confirm that he was now in the "future," moving step by step toward the truth behind the Kidnapping Case. In all the times he had been kidnapped and throughout his investigations, this had never happened before.

He needed to keep this "future" going for as long as he could.

This time, he also needed to escape back to the future as quickly as possible.

After all, in most versions of his Life Path, no matter whether he was injured or not, he would meet Zhang Chiguo of the Public Security Bureau, be sent to an orphanage, get into Qinggang University, and carry on with his life.

But there had also been some bizarre versions of his Life Path where, after he returned, everything around him was completely different—even unfamiliar.

"Teacher, teacher, is this a science museum?"

"Where are the machines?"

By now, some of the children on the bus had sensed that something was wrong. They were trying to ask the teacher who had brought them here.

But there was no answer—not from the school bus driver, nor from the teacher in charge of their safety.

Both of them sat silently in their seats, letting the bus roll into the manor.

Han Su didn't need to look to know there was no point in trying to get their attention. He had been kidnapped and brought back countless times, and had long since learned what these two looked like.

At some point, they had turned into pale-white statues.

They might have looked only a little dull, but if you struck them hard, you would find that even beneath their skin, their bodies had become a fragile, stone-like filling.

Being kidnapped was unavoidable.

He had once tried to climb out through the school bus window as soon as he was brought back, or escape through the manor gate. But he had learned his lesson the hard way. So this time, he simply sat in silence, waiting for the right moment.

"Teacher, teacher's asleep..."

A child, still innocent of the ways of the world, noticed something was wrong with the teacher and called out in a clear voice.

The bus filled with voices, but the children were still more curious and bewildered than anything else. Most came from affluent families and had been protected too well; they were still used to following the adults' instructions.

Now that the adults were asleep, they didn't know what to do.

Not to mention, some were squirming in their seats, barely able to hold it in.

"Click!"

Just then, the bus door opened softly. Outside, a gentle and elegant voice rang out: "Welcome to the Land of Dust..."

Everyone except Han Su, who had seen that face countless times, was drawn to the voice. Some even stood up, only to see an old man standing outside the bus, his posture straight.

He was thin, dressed in a dark-black tailcoat. His clothes were filthy, caked with mud and dust and stained with grime of unknown origin, but they were impeccably neat, as if he had carefully pressed them before putting them on.

There wasn't much hair left on his head, but his mustache was neatly trimmed.

Even his face wore a perfectly proper, warm, friendly smile.

Anywhere else, he might have passed for a professional Old Butler, proud of his work.

Except for his face.

His skin was ashen, marred by cracks like those in porcelain. Dry veins and the texture of muscle showed faintly through them. This strange appearance lent an eerie quality to his proper stance and welcoming smile.

"Teacher, teacher..."

The children were so unnerved that they cried out, shrinking back into the bus as they tried to wake the dozing teacher.

The Old Butler outside the bus didn't seem to mind. Still smiling, he gently clapped his hands.

"Clap." "Clap."

The two claps rang out, startlingly clear.

At once, every child in the bus fell silent.

Their expressions blank, they slowly stood up and filed out of the bus one after another.

They lined up in two rows beside the porcelain-like Old Butler.

The castle's gates opened slowly and heavily, as if steeped in mystery and ancient gravitas, welcoming its special guests.

No one cried. No one made a fuss. Like soulless walking corpses, they slowly followed the Old Butler toward the castle.

Even Han Su obediently followed along, pretending he had been hypnotized too.

He was most afraid of the Old Butler.

He was the only one in the Ancient Castle who spoke normally and seemed approachable. He also didn't appear to be one of the monsters; in the pecking order, he seemed to rank below them.

And yet, he was the strangest and cruelest of them all.

The entire kidnapping might have happened under his watch.