"I don't recognize it..." Mao Feiyang said, his tone somewhat complicated.
No, you definitely do, Lin Yi said inwardly.
"I really don't," Mao Feiyang said, then added, "It's just... it just feels a little familiar."
"Were your memories altered too?" Lin Yi muttered.
Mao Feiyang curled his lip. "It's just not time to remember yet, but... if I really do recognize that gravestone, you're in for another hell of a time."
"Wait, what does you recognizing it have to do with me suffering?" Lin Yi said.
Mao Feiyang said nothing.
Just then, Old Cowboy, who lay on the ground, finally grew anxious after failing to so much as touch the hem of Mao Feiyang's clothes for so long. He opened his mouth wide, and strange syllables emerged from beneath his full beard, utterly unlike his exceptionally gravelly, phlegmy vocal fry.
The sound had only a single note, like some ancient horn being blown.
At the same time, as though sensing something, Lin Yi abruptly looked toward the fog-shrouded boundary of the Cemetery. Heads bobbed through the mist as figures swayed like walking corpses and began approaching.
Old Cowboy's call seemed to have summoned more "Layer Natives."
And just then, the domain of perception that Lin Yi had been expanding finally detected an extremely familiar scent...
The moment he sensed that "scent," the dimly candlelit corridor surfaced instinctively in his mind, along with the rust-covered Iron Gate deep within it.
That Iron Gate stood there all alone, and behind it lay Little Girl's Bedroom.
"That's it! Maozi, that's the place!!" Lin Yi cried.
"I know! Lao Lin, I know!!" Mao Feiyang cried too.
He took one last look at the gravestone, then sprinted toward the location Lin Yi had sensed.
"Thud, thud, thud, thud, thud..."
Mao Feiyang's feet struck the damp