The old man was cheerful, babbling something incomprehensible, his wrinkled face resembling tree bark but his eyes lively.

Standing at the door, Li Chengyi instantly recognized the old man.

*Eastwood Jagir.*

Those eyes were nearly identical to the young boy’s in the photograph.

“Can we have a moment with him?” Li Chengyi asked.

“Sure, but who are you to him? This old guy doesn’t have any family, no relatives or friends. He’s been here for years, and no one’s ever come to see him. You’re the first ones,” the plump nurse asked curiously.

She wasn’t particularly worried about any problems arising. After all, Jagir had no assets and was entirely dependent on social welfare. There was nothing to gain.

“We’re doing a special investigation on the Reiz earthquake and want to understand it better for an upcoming research paper,” Song Ran quickly fabricated a story.

The nurse, uninterested in academic research, agreed readily after receiving a small bribe. She escorted Jagir out and provided them a small room for their conversation.

The hospital room was bright and airy, with metal bars on the windows. A gentle breeze carried the scent of flowers and grass into the room.

Jagir sat upright on a small metal chair, looking at Li Chengyi and Song Ran with a hint of curiosity.

“Mr. Jagir, can you tell us how you were rescued from the underground?” Li Chengyi asked softly, taking a step closer.

“I don’t know,” Jagir replied cheerfully.

“Did you hide in a crack in the wall and wait a long time to be saved?” Li Chengyi ignored the initial response and continued probing.

“I don’t remember,” Jagir smiled.

“You don’t remember anything?” Li Chengyi’s brow furrowed.

“No, I’ve forgotten everything,” Jagir replied in perfect Mandarin, with no hint of a regional accent.

“What about this?” Li Chengyi suddenly pulled out the V-shaped metal tag.

The name "Eastwood Jagir" was clearly engraved on it.

“Is this yours?” Li Chengyi stared intently at Jagir’s face, watching for any sign of recognition.

“I don’t know.” But to his disappointment, Jagir remained still, his face unchanged, a naïve smile plastered on it.

“Do you remember your parents? How did they die?” Song Ran, unable to contain himself, interjected from behind.

“I’ve forgotten,” Jagir shook his head, his expression unchanged.

Li Chengyi frowned.

He had hoped the tag would trigger some memory in Jagir, but it seemed he was mistaken.

Thinking for a moment, Li Chengyi took out his phone, found a clear photo, and held it in front of Jagir.

“Have you seen this before?”

The image was an enlarged version of a dark red symbol, shaped like a distorted ‘M’ or a crawling figure.

But…

“I haven’t seen it,” Jagir said, his expression unchanged, eyes clear, showing no reaction to the symbol.

Li Chengyi exhaled, eyes fixed on Jagir’s face, but there was no hint of recognition.

Jagir showed no reaction to the symbol.

Li Chengyi then asked numerous questions about the Grius parking lot, but none yielded any clues.

When the nurse came in to usher them out—visiting time over—they reluctantly left the room.

Back in the courtyard, Li Chengyi held the tag found at the Grius site, his mood heavy.

He thought he had found the key to breaking through but...

“Are you okay? Don’t worry, we still have time. We can keep investigating,” Song Ran said quietly from the side.

“Yes, but the trail is cold now...” Li Chengyi replied.

“If we can find out how Jagir got out of Grius back then and you replicate it, it should work. The survivor’s theory—it’s what the boss’s recruits have proven effective in the past,” Song Ran reminded him.

“I know.” Li Chengyi had read the files and taken the company’s think tank’s advice. He knew this method.

“Jagir hid in a crevice. We only know he was rescued from there, but what he did while inside, we don’t know.”

“I’ve gone into the crevice twice already, but it hasn’t worked. Both times, people died for me to escape Grius,” Li Chengyi said.

“So finding out what he did before being rescued is the key,” Song Ran added, frowning.

Given Jagir’s current state—unable to remember anything, with a childlike mind—it seemed impossible to find out.

Standing in the courtyard, they were momentarily at a loss.

“Deep in the night, deep in the night, someone’s always at the window.”

“Who is it? Who is it? It’s the big, round-headed man.”

“You say one, I say one, no fear of the dark or the bear.”

“Loves to laugh, can cry, count with eyes shut tight.”

“One, two, three, four, five, open your eyes and you lose.”

Li Chengyi frowned slightly, turning to see a bald old man holding a rattle drum, shaking it rhythmically as he sang a song he had never heard before.

It seemed like a children’s song, but the lyrics… They made Li Chengyi feel strangely uneasy.

“What’s that song? I’ve never heard it before,” Li Chengyi asked Song Ran.

“Same here, first time hearing it,” Song Ran shrugged. “Why? Is something wrong?”

“Wait a moment, let me search,” Li Chengyi said, taking out his phone and typing in the lyrics for a search.

Soon, lines of results appeared.

Most were advertisements, a few were related to games.

Li Chengyi stood there, frowning as he scrolled through the pages.

Suddenly, his finger stopped.

“Found it!”

Song Ran leaned in, surprised, to look at the screen.

‘From Grius nursery rhymes, "Kind Bulwu," said to be a lullaby created by the people in the eastern mountain region of Grius to help children sleep at night.’

“No problem there, right?” Song Ran shook his head.

“There isn’t… or maybe there is,” Li Chengyi exhaled deeply. “Maybe I’m just being overly sensitive.”

He put down his phone and saw Jagir in the distance, being pushed in a wheelchair by a nurse, comfortably basking in the sun.

He had thought he’d finally found a lead, but now he was stuck at the last step.

‘The crevice must be key to escaping. What did Jagir do inside to be saved? Sleep? Hum a song? Zone out? Or carve something into the walls?’

According to the survivor’s theory, the best way to escape the Dead End was to replicate what Jagir did.

But now… The writing in the crevice only indicated that he waited for a long time, closed his eyes, and hummed a song… With the next monster encounter and its increased speed, there wouldn’t be much time for trial and error.

‘Wait!’ Suddenly, a thought struck Li Chengyi. ‘That song... This is Xin City, far from the border. How could a Grius nursery rhyme appear here?’

‘The Reiz earthquake, the location of the Grius parking lot—it’s right on the border between Grius and Yiguo!’

‘How could that be a coincidence?’

Connections formed in Li Chengyi’s mind.

He stood still, looking at Song Ran a few steps ahead.

“Brother Song, did the records show where Eastwood Jagir was originally from?”

“He’s from Yiguo, an ethnic minority. Why?” Song Ran asked, puzzled.

“That song… the nursery rhyme, ‘Bulwu’... Hold on.” Li Chengyi quickly typed in “Bulwu” to translate it from Grius.

Soon, a line of information that sent shivers down his spine appeared on his phone.

“This is...!”

* * *

**New Century Building.**

Sindra stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray and looked at the gray trench coat-wearing man who had just entered.

“Can you help me look into this symbol?” He handed over a photo.

It was the mysterious symbol Li Chengyi had taken at Grius.

“No problem. Others might refuse, but I owe you, Sindra,” the man in the gray coat chuckled. His face was hidden under the hood, showing only a pale, refined chin.

“It’s troubling that a fully modified cyborg appeared here. It seems the Control Committee has been lax,” Sindra sighed.

“Things here are different from White Star. Cyborgs aren’t the mainstream—Flyyi are. You haven’t been here long enough to adapt,” the man in gray laughed. “You’ll get used to it over time.”

“Thanks, and if the self-sustaining city networks were connected, this wouldn’t be so complicated,” Sindra said.

“If they were connected, how could they remain autonomous?” The man shook his head slightly. “I’m off. The committee will handle that mysterious cyborg.”

“Are you still based in Andu?” Sindra asked.

“No, I’ve moved to ChaoYu. Andu is too lifeless now; business is tough there,” the man replied, waving as he left the office.

“Next time you’re in ChaoYu, I’ll treat you.”

“Deal.”

Watching his friend step into the elevator and disappear, Sindra took out a pack of cigarettes from the drawer, pulling one out.

But a glance at the ashtray, now filled with five stubs, made him pause.

With a sigh, he put the cigarette back in the pack.

Beep, beep, beep…

The sudden ringing of his phone interrupted his thoughts.

He picked it up,

 glanced at it, and answered quickly.

“Any news?”

“Boss.” Li Chengyi’s voice came through. “Can you help check if Jagir’s parents were originally from Grius?”

Sindra’s brow furrowed as he contacted the company’s AI at White Star through a secure line.

Within seconds, the response came.

“You were right. Jagir’s family were originally illegal immigrants from Grius, later obtaining residence permits through settlement policies and becoming Yiguo citizens,” Sindra replied swiftly.

“That’s it! It all fits,” Li Chengyi exclaimed. “We found a clue here at the mental hospital. Some patients like to hum a nursery rhyme. I asked around, and it turns out that’s what Jagir unconsciously hummed.”

“A nursery rhyme?”

“Yes,” Li Chengyi said, “I looked it up. The song is called *Kind Bulwu*, and in Grius, ‘Bulwu’ means…”

“Big-faced monster!”