Vroom.

The modified off-road vehicle, looking like a small black aircraft, wobbled as it sped back toward Suiyang.

Air rushed in at high speed, making Li Chengyi’s and Song Ran’s faces tremble and their hair whip around wildly.

Li Chengyi’s expression was calm, hidden behind AR glasses, making it hard to discern his eyes, but he was noticeably more composed compared to when they set out.

After personally testing the strength of his newly evolved flower-scale armor, he suspected that even if he fell from a height of several dozen meters, he might not die.

However, his mind was less focused on the swiftly passing road below and more on the malevolent energy he’d absorbed during his recent chaotic charge.

‘Malice: 73’

He had rushed into Ash Real Estate to catch them off guard, and it had worked remarkably well. 

Discovering that his flower-scale armor’s defense had significantly increased and that its speed and strength were now even greater, he had opted for a rapid, decisive approach.

Initially, he expected Ash Real Estate might house formidable opponents, so he had remained tense as he charged in, ready to deploy his Floral Command if necessary.

If he acted fast and stealthily enough, the Floral Command could work as a hidden trump card to control his enemies, just like with the man in the white gauze.

But to his surprise, Ash Real Estate only had a handful of people inside, and none could put up a real fight.

‘Of course, it’s also possible I was so fast that they couldn’t react or gather reinforcements,’ he thought.

Li Chengyi knew his strategy was speed—enough to prevent any response or organized resistance from the other side.

He sat in quiet contemplation, lost in thought.

Song Ran focused on driving, occasionally talking through his AR to others.

Both men had shed the relaxed air they had when they set out.

Two hours later, the car slowed and descended into a charging station, pulling in to recharge.

“What are you thinking about?” Song Ran stepped out, biting a cigarette between his lips, lighting it as he walked over to stand beside Li Chengyi, waiting for the car’s wireless charging to finish.

“Nothing much. Just realizing how dangerous things are outside the Dead End too,” Li Chengyi said softly.

“Reality is like that—more dangerous than you think,” Song Ran replied calmly. “Did the boss ever tell you about his past?”

“No.”

“Figures,” Song Ran chuckled. “Back then, the boss made one bad decision, and his son died, his wife left, his career crumbled, and he lost all hope. He ended up wandering around looking for his son.”

He flicked the ash from his cigarette.

“All it took was one mistake for his opponents to latch on and destroy him. It wasn’t so much that his son disappeared in the Dead End as that their lack of preparation ruined what could have been an escape.”

“That’s harsh,” Li Chengyi sighed.

“It is. Like that cyborg we faced. You might not be familiar with them,” Song Ran said. “Cyborgs are foreign to most people because officials and major powers often agree to keep the information under wraps.”

“Can you tell me more?” Li Chengyi asked. His past self had only seen a few video clips, so he really didn’t know much.

“Sure.” Song Ran nodded. “Cyborgs fall into two main categories.”

“Prosthetic modification and full-body modification.”

“So, partial versus full?” Li Chengyi interpreted.

“More or less. Prosthetic modification is like me.” Song Ran raised one arm, pulling back the sleeve of his white shirt to reveal damaged skin.

The skin had bullet holes showing the silver metal beneath.

“My legs and one arm are modified. But because it’s just prosthetics, the enhancements are minimal. It adds some strength, allows storage of lightweight items, and can accommodate basic instruments and functional modules.”

He explained further.

“Most people opt for prosthetics. Do you know why?”

Li Chengyi shook his head.

His knowledge in this area was limited; even searching online often led to dead ends or blank links, clearly suggesting someone was deliberately erasing information.

“Because it’s cheaper,” Song Ran said, a wry smile on his face. “My prosthetics, without counting the installed functional modules, just the modifications and neural links, cost around three million. Full-body modification... starts at thirty million and up. And money isn’t the main problem; the real issue is obtaining the crucial systems. The most difficult and important aspect of full-body modification is the system.”

“The system?”

“Yes. For example, the two key components of a system are the firewall and the neural net. The firewall determines whether you can be hacked and controlled. The neural net decides how well you can control your modified body. Reaction speed, ease of control, and lifelike precision all depend on the neural net.”

Song Ran’s expression showed a hint of envy.

“Every full-body cyborg is a result of immense investment, and they’re usually built only in self-sustaining cities. Plus, they need extensive, costly maintenance. If you ever get the chance to visit one of those cities, you’ll see them for yourself.”

Self-sustaining cities.

Li Chengyi recognized the name. In this world, not all cities were the same...

At that moment, a soft electronic female voice sounded from inside the charging station.

“ST1130 charging complete. Thank you for your visit.”

“Let’s go back,” Song Ran said, pulling open the car door and getting in.

Li Chengyi followed, fastening his seatbelt.

“Back to the company?”

“Yeah, the boss has already sent people to investigate that person in the field. Most of his records were wiped clean years ago, so it’s hard to find information,” Song Ran nodded. “Do you want me to drop you home first?”

“No, finding the lead is more important,” Li Chengyi declined.

Vroom.

The engine roared as the car accelerated, speeding out of the charging station and heading along the black highway toward the city center of Suiyang.

Half an hour later, amidst traffic, the two returned to the New Century Building.

In the company office.

Sindra was sketching notes on a tablet. Seeing them enter, he quickly turned off the screen and stood up.

“Welcome back, safe and sound,” he said, hugging Song Ran and shaking hands firmly with Li Chengyi.

“What’s the deal with that sole survivor?” Li Chengyi got straight to the point.

“The data on Jagir wasn’t found in the records of survivors from the Grius parking lot but among earthquake survivors. He’s listed as having no connection to Grius at all,” Sindra explained, his expression serious.

“No connection? But earlier...” Li Chengyi frowned. Ding Chongyi had said otherwise before.

“The company’s AI cross-referenced the data and found that the person in both the parking lot and earthquake survivor records was the same. Someone had deliberately erased him. According to the records, none of the Grius parking lot survivors were listed by name. The profile photo and name you provided led to this correct match.”

Sindra picked up a projection flashlight and pointed it at the wall.

A photo of the white-clad boy from the profile appeared on the wall.

Below the image, a small line read: **Eastwood Jagir, Male, currently residing at Wenyang Mental Hospital, 98 years old, suffering from amnesic syndrome with cognitive and emotional decline.**

“Where is Wenyang Mental Hospital?” Li Chengyi quickly asked. The clues were laid out; the sooner they acted, the better, to avoid unexpected complications.

“Not far, about 200 kilometers from here, in Xin City,” Sindra said. “Are you going now?”

“Yes, as soon as possible!” Li Chengyi nodded.

“I’ll take you,” Song Ran offered.

The two immediately turned and walked toward the elevator.

“Wait,” Sindra’s voice suddenly came through the AR.

“Ash Real Estate was attacked three hours ago. Their boss, Dasong Bazan, was thrown out of a ninth-floor window and died. Scans show that before the fall, his bones and internal organs were already crushed.”

Li Chengyi and Song Ran were taken aback, their expressions filled with shock.

“Do you know who did it?” Song Ran asked quickly. “I encountered a skilled fighter there earlier. Was it one of Ash’s people?”

“Yes, it was. That was Ash’s top enforcer, Vigil, and a fat man named Genan, both security heads of Ash Real Estate. They both died on the day of our conflict,” Sindra said.

“Could it have been that cyborg in purple-black armor?” Song Ran speculated, his eyes showing deep concern.

“That person’s combat skills were very raw—an amateur, even untrained. He relied solely on brute force and speed,” Song Ran said gravely. 

“And that’s what makes him terrifying. It means his modifications surpass mine and Vigil’s by far,” he added.

“A cyborg of that caliber wouldn’t exist without major financial backing,” Sindra sighed. “Maybe Ash provoked the wrong enemy.”

“Maybe. We’ll talk later, boss, we’re heading out now,” Song Ran said as they left.

The elevator doors were about to close.

“Oh, Chengyi, do you know how survivors escape the Dead End?” Sindra’s voice rang out in the AR again.

“I read some details,” Li Chengyi replied.

“Collect as much information as possible and mimic the actions of the survivor before they were rescued. That’s how people can sometimes escape. This kind of Dead End, where survivors exist, is the easiest to leave. Trust yourself!” Sindra encouraged.

“Thanks, boss.”

“And that symbol.”

“The one I found near the small door?”

 Li Chengyi recalled.

“Yes. We haven’t identified it yet, but it seems familiar. Also, that mysterious figure in purple armor who suddenly attacked—this might not be something that just Ash Real Estate can handle. Be careful, don’t delve too deep, and withdraw once you find what you need,” Sindra cautioned.

“Understood.”

Both Li Chengyi and Song Ran responded at once.

* * *

**Xin City, Wenyang Mountain – Wenyang Mental Hospital.**

In a spacious recreation room.

Men and women wearing white-striped hospital uniforms were moving their limbs in sync with rhythmic music, doing simple exercises.

A plump nurse wearing a mask and glasses pushed open the door and glanced around the room.

“There he is. You can come in now,” she said, turning back to address someone outside.

Soon, a young man in his twenties with black hair stepped in.

He wore a simple gray suit, his hair neatly styled, exuding an air of reliability.

“Excuse me, who is...” He started to ask but was interrupted.

“There, the old man standing at the back,” the nurse pointed.

Standing in the far corner was an elderly man with snow-white hair, a gap between his front teeth, waving his hands in the air.