Han Su pondered in silence: ‘Does that mean I’ll remain trapped in the Ancient Castle forever, even if I escape, I’ll be immediately dragged back?’
He dared not think about it.
Right now, being taken back after just half a month already kept him on edge every day.
If that interval were compressed again—shortened further, even down to zero—Han Su felt he might as well find a building to climb and experience flying once and for all.
“Ding—next stop, Central City Library.”
When Han Su emerged from the subway station, it was already seven o’clock in the evening.
Outside the station, neon lights were everywhere, and at some point a light rain had begun to fall, shrouding everything in a faint, damp haze.
He had no time to appreciate the bustling, grand style of the city; he hurriedly wove through the crowd of people finishing work, chattering middle school students, and scavenging elderly people.
Even dinner was a quick matter—a single bread from a street stall.
He pulled out one of the books and began flipping through it patiently.
In his mind, he still remembered some strange marks that appeared within the dark castle.
Each time he returned to the present, he habitually searched for the origins of those marks, hoping to find some clue.
Though the investigation into this kidnapping case had been extremely unsuccessful, he never wanted to give up easily.
Every day he thought about giving up entirely, yet each time he mustered his strength again.
Maybe if he searched a bit more, he’d find some clue?
Time ticked by, and this collection section was quiet, with not many people coming by. On the empty benches, only the sound of Han Su flipping pages could be heard.
“Excuse me, classmate, hi…”
While he was reading, a voice sounded beside him. Han Su looked up and saw a long‑haired girl holding books.
Her face was slightly flushed—she had been selecting books behind the shelves and turned around to see Han Su.
Although Han Su had disfigured his face in this timeline, he habitually wore sunglasses when going out, which hid the scar.
From a distance, seeing him earnestly flipping through books was rather pleasing. She hesitated, then picked up her books and came over to speak.
“I saw you just now looking through materials on the Radiation Era—are you also interested in that period of history?”
Han Su paused slightly before noticing that the book he was reading was an ancient religious text from an age lost before the Reconstruction Era.
This world had once gone through a history filled with wars, radiation, disease, and disaster, and only after rebuilding, flourishing, and developing on the ruins did it become the boundless prosperity seen today.
Using modern civilization as the point of reference, those vague earlier ages were called the Flare Era, the Radiation Era, and the Reconstruction Era.
However, although those names remained, those eras were so distant that there was a serious rupture in civilization.
Language, writing, and records were severely incomplete, and many exaggerated mythic legends also appeared.
When modern people read records from that period, they could feel a serious sense of distortion.
Han Su flipped through the book he held, giving no comment, but curiously asked, “Are you a student majoring in that historical period?”
He politely rifled through his backpack, produced some paper, borrowed the girl’s pen, and carefully drew the mysterious symbol from his mind onto the page.
Eagerly, he said, “Could you take a look and tell me if you recognize this symbol?”
The long‑haired classmate happily sat down, looked carefully, and said, “It seems like the style of certain tribes from the Radiation Era…”
“At that time, civilization hadn’t been rebuilt yet; people were collectively confused and ignorant. They believed in the existence of deities, so they designed their own totems and rituals, hoping their voices would be heard by the gods.”
“Of course it couldn’t be too complicated—they feared the gods wouldn’t understand.”
“But because it was too simple, clashes happened a lot. It’s said that many tribal wars began like that…”
Han Su looked curious: “Did those gods really exist?”
“History that remote is always seriously distorted and twisted. Moreover, at that time, due to calamities, wars, and so on, there were severe breaks in civilization. Writing, language, and historical records were all seriously incomplete.”
The long‑haired girl waved her hand and said, “If we take those surviving religious texts at face value, back then there wasn’t just one deity in the world…”
“Mechanical, Sea‑Beast, Chaos, Calamity, Disease…”
“It’s said these gods once ruled the entire Radiation Era for thousands of years, but before the Reconstruction Era began, they were sealed into the dust of history by the ancestors of modern civilization.”
“Even now, in some regions religious groups still claim those abandoned gods will return to exact revenge on all of human civilization!”
Seeing Han Su completely engrossed, she felt a bit embarrassed: “I’m just repeating what I’ve heard. These mythic stories aren’t reliable. Historians all say that era had severe radiation and people often experienced mass collective hallucinations.”
Han Su listened and nodded.
He had actually found similar stories in his research.
Each time he heard them, he was captivated, but on closer investigation they became fragmented.
After a pause, he pointed to the symbol on the paper and, concern in his eyes, asked, “So… do you recognize it?”
The long‑haired classmate shook her head awkwardly and said, “I can’t recognize it for now…”
She brightened, turned around, and said, “The coffee over there is pretty good—classmate, shall we go…”
Han Su coldly lowered his head and casually took off his sunglasses, placing them aside.
He didn’t conceal the shocking scar on his face and stared expressionlessly at the girl, looking quite frightening.
“It’s late to drink coffee—you’re not afraid of being unable to sleep?”
The long‑haired girl suddenly caught sight of Han Su’s greyish‑white eye and was obviously taken aback.
She covered her mouth slightly, paused for a moment, and seeing no sign that Han Su would speak, she awkwardly packed up her backpack and left—first moving a few rows back, then after a while quietly exiting with her books.
Han Su was completely unmoved.
Being kidnapped and taken back repeatedly had long since shattered his life into unstable fragments—everything academic, career, even black‑stockings, had lost meaning.
The only things that helped him were clues related to the Dark Castle and a plan to rescue the other children.
After the girl left, the entire section of the library seemed to hold only Han Su.
Even though his head spun from reading, he still patiently flipped through more books.
Time ticked by again, and the silence all around felt like entering a clean, cold tomb.
“Excuse me, classmate…”
Suddenly another voice abruptly sounded. Han Su stiffened slightly and looked up with clear impatience.
To his surprise, it wasn’t the long‑haired girl again, but a middle‑aged man in a suit wearing a black baseball cap. He looked refined but his brow bore the mark of a merchant’s mindset.
He looked at Han Su, nodded with deference, and extended his hand, saying: “My surname is Chen, I work at a detective agency…”
Han Su did not shake his hand—he only raised an eyebrow. “Something you need?”
The man sat down without hesitation, smiling: “Yes, a small matter indeed.”
“A while ago, our agency took a case. Someone commissioned us to investigate a kidnapping from ten years ago.”
“They say, Han classmate was the only one who escaped that case—am I correct?”
Hearing that, Han Su immediately understood what he was dealing with. He leaned back slightly and asked: “How far have you gotten in your investigation?”
The man in the baseball cap hesitated slightly then smiled: “Just started—that’s why I boldly came here to visit.”
“I have a few questions for you, Han classmate. I hope I’m not disturbing you too much… Rest assured, if you provide valuable clues, I’ll make sure to thank you properly.”
Han Su restrained himself and smiled politely: “You’re already disturbing me.”
“Besides, everything that can be said, I’ve said many times. The Public Security Bureau has backups—so many leads. Have you investigated any?”
The man heard this and indeed smiled: “Han classmate, the idea of a “monster kidnapping” is too bizarre—my client probably won’t be satisfied.”
“I’m thinking that at the time you must have had some unspeakable reasons and just said it casually?”
“But now, after so many years… perhaps you should…”
Han Su interrupted him and said seriously: “Why don’t you get lost?”
The man paused: “Huh?”
Han Su stood up: “Fine—get lost!”
He was already very irritated.
That kidnapping ten years ago had caused him countless troubles.
Once the Public Security Bureau determined he remembered nothing, they let him go to live by the rules. But the victims’ families never gave up.
The reasonable ones just asked him to try to recall some clues, and that was fine.
But many victims’ families spent large sums hiring private detectives or so‑called capable people to investigate the ten‑year‑old case no matter what.
Those with real or fake ability often targeted him.
They seemed sure that the Public Security Bureau had been fooled by him back then, and once they stepped in, they could reveal the so‑called truth of that kidnapping case.
They stalked him, took clandestine photos, harassed him, installed listening devices.
At the very beginning, some even attempted to abduct him or use vigilante violence.
Various methods left him endlessly tormented.
Seeing Han Su pack his things briskly, the man in the baseball cap’s forced smile gradually disappeared.
He didn’t speak to stop him; he leaned back and gently snapped his fingers.
As Han Su slung his backpack and prepared to leave, a strong‑built man wearing sunglasses came from behind the bookshelf and stood before him.
Han Su turned and saw another man in a floral shirt behind him, smoking a cigarette with a mischievous smile, idly flicking a knife in his hand.