"A call? That voice was you!" The old man's eyes suddenly lit up, as though a beam of light had shone into an old house sealed away for years.
Gao Ming nodded slightly. Unsure whether there were surveillance cameras in the room, he didn't take out his Walkie-Talkie. He only glanced at the one in the old man's hand. It was completely different from his own, perfectly preserved without a speck of grime, but some strange writing covered its surface.
The elaborate characters were illegible to Gao Ming. He felt as though he had seen similar writing on a shrine somewhere.
"Did my brother send you? My brother's back!" The old man's joy was pure, untainted by anything else.
"You don't remember your Older Brother's name, but you should still have some impression of him, shouldn't you? What did your Older Brother look like? What did he do? Did he ever say anything to you?" Gao Ming was actually more nervous than the old man. He felt he was about to lift one corner of some great curtain.
The old man's brows slowly knitted as he struggled to remember. After a moment, he began hitting his head again, and Gao Ming hurriedly caught his hand. "Take your time."
"My brother was an incredible man. He could do things even gods and ghosts couldn't. He saved the whole city. You—all of you owe him your lives." The old man babbled as though he had lost his mind. Hearing him, the staff member outside the door could only shake their head.
"Everyone owes him their lives?" Gao Ming looked thoughtful. "Then did he tell you where he went, or where you should go to find him?"
"He went... he went..." The old man thought for a long time. Suddenly, his eyes widened,