This meal was very sumptuous. Perhaps because it was free, Jiang Cheng brought out every dish he could.

Jiang Cheng, with a braised duck leg stuffed in his mouth, was still peeling crayfish. The shells in his plate were piled up like a small mountain. "Fatty, you should eat something too, no matter what."

Fatty sighed; he was always helpless against Jiang Cheng.

But he couldn't stomach any more rich food. He picked up a piece of cornbread with his chopsticks and slowly chewed it.

"Doctor," he looked around and asked in a low voice, "Do you think... is this really a real world?"

These words seemed to have been bottled up in Fatty's heart for a long time, and he only said them now. He pursed his lips and continued, "If you say it isn't, everyone here feels extremely real, just like in our world. But..."

"But if you say it is, our world wouldn't suddenly have something like this happen," Jiang Cheng said dismissively, spitting out a bone.

"That's right."

Pulling out a free napkin to wipe his hands, Jiang Cheng looked at Fatty, "I've thought about this before too. If the essence of a nightmare is space-time reversal, then every time we open a door, we should be arriving in a place that people actually experienced in the past."

Fatty listened, half-understanding, and asked doubtfully, "What do you mean, Doctor?"

"If all of this is the past, then we can't change the outcome at all. In other words, whether we come or not has no effect on this world."

"I don't quite understand what you're..."

Before Fatty could finish, Jiang Cheng interrupted him, staring in the direction of the door, where the night was thick.

"But we changed it here, didn't we? Look around. How could such a scene appear in the real world? This place..." He paused, his voice changing, "is like it's prepared for us."

Fatty's pupils slowly contracted. "You mean this world is prepared specifically for us?"

"I don't know. The evidence we have now isn't enough to support my theory. Everything now is just speculation."

Jiang Cheng pulled out two clean tissues, folded them neatly, and put them in his upper pocket.

His movements were meticulous and precise.

The man in front of him now gave Fatty a completely different feeling. He was like a precise machine.

Every gear, every bearing, every basic component was perfectly operating in its own orbit.

"Fatty," Jiang Cheng suddenly said, startling the engrossed Fatty.

"Yes, Doctor," Fatty nodded repeatedly. "I'm listening."

"Have you ever thought about... the outside world?" Jiang Cheng stared outside the door, took a deep breath, and slowly exhaled.

"The outside world?"

"Right," Jiang Cheng shifted his gaze, his eyes containing something Fatty couldn't understand. "Not just the street across from the school, that coffee shop, I'm talking about... farther away."

"What... will it be like there?"

Fatty had never thought about what Jiang Cheng was saying. He finally realized the biggest difference between him and Jiang Cheng... no, between them and Jiang Cheng.

Most people were just thinking about how to survive this mission, planning for it, using both overt and covert schemes.

They were already doing their best to survive the mission.

But Jiang Cheng's planning had long transcended the mission itself. He was thinking about things that were deeper, submerged in deep water.

Like the nightmare, and the rules of the mission it imposed.

The real rules.

He was a very honest man, both in life and at work, earning the money he was supposed to earn, without fantasies or excessive desires.

But he wasn't stupid. Undeniably, Jiang Cheng's words had opened a new door for him.

"I don't know," Fatty said honestly, lowering his head in shame, then shaking his head and whispering, "I've never thought about these things."

The atmosphere became subtle for a moment...

"Beep, beep, beep."

Fatty, with his head lowered, heard the sound of buttons being pressed.

He raised his head and looked at Jiang Cheng in confusion.

He found that the latter had already sat up straight, holding his phone in his right hand, dialing a number.

The plates and bowls on the table had all been pushed aside, and a piece of paper was spread on top.

The paper seemed to have been torn from something, with jagged edges.

Looking closely, it was densely filled with names, and corresponding phone numbers behind them.

Fatty's eyes slowly widened. "This is..."

He recognized the material of the paper, which was very similar to the memorial album they found in the archives, with a slightly oily, frosted texture.

Jiang Cheng held the phone to his ear, silent, and Fatty couldn't help but hold his breath.

Jiang Cheng still didn't speak first this time, but Fatty gradually noticed that as the call continued, Jiang Cheng's expression slowly changed.

But even if he was anxious, he didn't dare interrupt Jiang Cheng.

The fact proved that although the latter was sometimes unreliable, he was sometimes surprisingly reliable.

At least the reason why his 200-plus-pound body was still alive and kicking was largely due to Jiang Cheng.

After a while, Jiang Cheng turned off the phone and put it back in the pocket he had taken it from.

Then he put away the paper in front of him.

"Doctor," Fatty swallowed. "What did they say on the other end?"

Jiang Cheng stood up and casually slung his camera bag over his shoulder. "Couldn't get through. They said the other party was out of service."

Fatty was stunned for a moment.

How could that be?

He didn't deliberately calculate the time Jiang Cheng spent on the phone, but it was definitely over a minute.

Couldn't get through... did it take that long?

Although he was puzzled, Fatty still muttered vaguely.

He wisely chose not to say too much.

Since Jiang Cheng said so, there must be his reasons, and after this period of contact, he had also developed a basic trust in the latter.

Even if Jiang Cheng sometimes had a sudden brain short-circuit and said some inexplicable things, like he was the top dog of the night shift in a KTV.

Mr. Lu Xun once said that trust is a comical affection.

Fatty deeply agreed.

"Let's go," Jiang Cheng tidied up his things and, after making sure he didn't leave anything behind, took the lead and walked out the door.

Fatty was a step behind and finally chased after him. "Doctor," he said quickly, "Are we going back to the dormitory?"

"No," Jiang Cheng stood in front of the cafeteria door, briefly identified the direction, and pointed to one side, saying, "Let's go this way, we're going to the equipment center."

Fatty's footsteps faltered, and his face became very ugly. "But... it's already dark, we're going to..."

"Fatty," Jiang Cheng turned his head and stared very seriously into Fatty's eyes, "Since we left the archives, have you seen a single student?"

Fatty thought carefully, and his throat uncontrollably bobbed. "No."

"Do you know why?"

Looking at Jiang Cheng's expression, Fatty felt an ominous premonition in his heart, and asked tremblingly, "Why?"

Jiang Cheng raised his head and looked at the night sky above.

The sky was as thick as a blob of ink that couldn't be spread out, with no moon, let alone twinkling stars.

"The sky won't brighten again..." Jiang Cheng said.