That woman's words were like a curse. Before her voice even faded, the surrounding space suddenly twisted and gradually expanded outward…

In that instant, the scenery in Feng Bujue's vision flowed like paints on a palette, with only the woman and Nelson remaining clear.

"Looks like… I've come to the right place…" Faced with this sudden change, Jue-ge didn't panic at all. He simply stood with his gun, observing the situation.

A minute passed… The distorted space stopped spreading and began to stabilize.

Now, Nelson's office had vanished, replaced by a wide, magnificent hall.

The four walls of the hall were pure white, carved with neat patterns, and adorned with large oil paintings and tapestries in the blank spaces. The marble floor was hard and smooth, and a huge crystal chandelier hung from the five-meter-high ceiling.

"Mr. Dave," Nelson's voice soon rang out again, "Welcome to… the Last Supper." As he spoke, he raised an arm and gestured toward one side of the hall.

There, a long table was set, covered with a white tablecloth and filled with food.

On one side of the long table were thirteen chairs, and at this moment, those thirteen chairs were occupied by thirteen people.

"Huh? What's going on here…" Under the lights, Feng Bujue finally saw the faces of the thirteen fat men clearly. "You… what exactly are you?"

He asked this question for two reasons: first, the thirteen fat men looked exactly alike; second, these fat men's faces… were clearly "fat versions" of Dave.

"You should know what they are," the mysterious woman replied.

"I don't," Feng Bujue said, looking at her and raising his voice.

"Yes, you do," Nelson added from the other side.

"Heh…" Feng Bujue sneered, pointing the gun at the mysterious woman. "You…" He then pointed at Nelson. "And you… Director. I don't care what you think, but I can clearly state that I find everything happening before me very perplexing. If you two know something, I hope you can answer my questions."

"That's impossible," Nelson replied with a serious and firm tone. "Only you yourself can answer all of this."

"Everything we can tell you exists only on a 'void' level," the mysterious woman continued. "When you see through the 'truth,' you will naturally understand the meaning of this 'void.'"

"Then how am I supposed to see through the 'truth' you speak of?" Feng Bujue asked.

"It's simple, open your eyes." At this moment, another voice suddenly came from a corner of the hall, answering his question.

Jue-ge turned his head, following the sound, and saw Mr. M in the direction the voice came from.

"Ho… you're here too…" Feng Bujue said, squinting. "Judging by this pattern… those two in the bar are probably also…"

"Yes, we're here too," Shooter interrupted Jue-ge, appearing in the hall with Yang.

These guys all seemed to appear through instantaneous movement; Jue-ge only turned his face slightly, and they appeared in his blind spot.

"Okay… let me think…" Feng Bujue shrugged. "If that lady is right, then you guys…" He said, glancing at the dining table. "…and those thirteen, are all derivatives on the 'void' level, right?"

"Yes, and no," the mysterious woman replied.

"Your question cannot be answered with a simple yes or no," Nelson added.

"In fact, we can't answer you either," Mr. M said.

"There is only one person who knows all the answers…" Yang continued.

"And that's you," Shooter said, pointing at Jue-ge.

The five of them said all this together, but Jue-ge's question still hadn't been clearly answered.

"Alright, I've had enough," Feng Bujue put down his gun, revealing an impatient expression. "Is there anyone here who can speak like a normal person? Can you say something that isn't so ambiguous and useless, or give me some substantial help?"

"The one who can help you…" In that instant, another voice rang out, "is only yourself."

This voice was completely identical to "Dave's" own voice…

Feng Bujue turned his head sharply after hearing the voice, and saw… another "Dave."

That "Dave" was wearing a formal postal uniform, carrying a satchel… His face was very pale, but his eyes were bright.

"Ghost Postman?" Feng Bujue looked at the other man for two seconds, then asked in a deep voice.

"Yes," the Ghost Postman replied. "Of course… you can also call me Dave."

"Hehe…" Feng Bujue chuckled dryly, and then asked, "Can you help me? Dave."

"No, because you broke my bicycle," Dave replied.

"I broke 'my' bicycle," Feng Bujue replied.

"Yes, it's 'my' bicycle," Dave emphasized again.

"Damn…" Jue-ge couldn't refute this absurd reply, so he could only say "damn."

"Mr. Dave," Nelson interjected at this time, "You should have read the work manual; breaking the bicycle has consequences."

"Oh… that's what it means…" Feng Bujue pondered. He immediately understood… "Breaking the bicycle" was a flag. If he hadn't triggered it, he could have gotten help from the Ghost Postman here. Unfortunately… it was too late to know now.

"Then… what should I do now?" Feng Bujue said, "What do I need to do to see through the 'truth'?"

In the next second, the six people around him answered in unison, "Open your eyes."

"Humph… fine~ fine~ I'll open them then." Feng Bujue shook his head and smiled bitterly.

He did know a way to "open his eyes," and it wasn't complicated… However, the last time he used it, the mysterious woman suddenly appeared and told him… this method would bring "irreversible effects."

"Everyone…" Feng Bujue took out his Nokia 3310 from his pocket, held it in his left hand, and raised it high. "…I'll be right back."

After saying that, he knelt on one knee and swung his arm forcefully toward the ground. The lower half of the phone, like a protruding hilt, was heavily smashed onto the marble floor.

Two seconds later, accompanied by a loud "clang—" the marble cracked.

Almost at the same instant, an indescribable, intense pain exploded inside Jue-ge's skull.

Before the pain could fully dissipate, Feng Bujue's eyes went dark, and he lost all sensation in his body…