"Sure enough... you also think this might be a trap?"
Gao Fan breathed a sigh of relief. It was as if gaining Ming Po's affirmation suddenly made his desire to run away sound entirely reasonable.
"It is not 'possible,' but 'certain.'"
Ming Po spoke with absolute conviction. "Otherwise, why would he spend a full ten years just to advance to Zhou's Azure Lead? And why, after reaching Zhou's Azure Lead, has he stopped advancing altogether until now?
"While there are indeed Deceivers of the World who struggle to advance—after all, advancent is quite difficult—surviving in the Ga of Deception for over a decade is arguably even harder."
Ming Po said this as he stood before the tightly shut doors of the company.
As if sensing his presence, the transparent glass doors automatically slid open to both sides.
"I can only think of one answer at the mont..." Ming Po said slowly. "He is waiting for you."
The mont Ming Po stepped inside the company, a deeply unnatural sensation enveloped him.
He was reminded of those short tubes used for blowing bubbles.
The tip would be dipped in soapy water, and a gentle blow would send iridescent bubbles flying. The air would be trapped within the soap, coated in an illusory film.
The mont Ming Po walked into the company building, he felt a similarly bizarre film wrap around him. The surrounding world flared with iridescent colors for a split second, only to snap back to normal in the very next heartbeat.
The company interior was completely deserted.
It was so desolate it felt like another world.
However, it was not dim inside; in fact, it was incredibly bright.
It was bright to an almost unnatural degree.
White walls, white floors, white ceilings, white desks and chairs—there were absolutely no decorations of any other color. If not for the faint traces of intentional design, one might even mistake it for an unfinished, bare-bones concrete shell.
No matter where he looked, the lighting inside the company felt blindingly harsh.
It was like staring at a screen with the brightness turned all the way up, or gazing across a vast, snow-blindness-inducing expanse of white that forced him to squint involuntarily.
Ming Po subconsciously reached out to touch the pristine white wall.
He could not feel any coldness, nor was there any real texture.
The sensation at his fingertips was entirely numb, as if he were wearing thick gloves, or perhaps walking through a dream... a dream that had failed to load the corresponding textures for objects.
"Is this... the palace?"
Ming Po muttered in a low voice, "It is a bit simpler than I imagined. I thought there would be all sorts of traps and monsters inside..."
An unprompted sense of tension inexplicably crept into Ming Po's heart.
That feeling...
It was like children playing around and accidentally kicking their ball into soone else's yard. The back gate just happens to be wide open, and sounds from inside the house make it clear that the owner is ho.
In that situation, unwilling to get yelled at, the child trespasses anyway, hoping to snatch the ball back while the owner is not looking.
Every passing second is fraught with the terrifying thought: 'What if they hear and suddenly open the door to find standing here?'
Creeping on tiptoes, heart in throat.
And if the child manages to sneak back out successfully, they would undoubtedly run away as fast as their legs could carry them, only letting out a breath of relief once they were far away, laughing and joking with their friends while feeling their wildly racing heart.
It was a taboo sensation, born from the crystal-clear realization that 'this domain does not belong to you.'
Compared to numb and thoroughly rational adults, perhaps children were far better equipped to understand this sort of taboo.
However, Ming Po actually managed to taste a thrill amidst his own fear—it felt remarkably similar to exploring a haunted house.
The 'real haunted house' he had previously explored with Ai Shiping had only made him feel sowhat bored... but now, he was belatedly experiencing the genuine thrill of a haunted house.
Ever since becoming a Deceiver of the World...
This was the very first ti Ming Po had truly tasted danger and fear.
It was not the artificial thrill brought about by intentionally gambling with his life... but the exhilarating rush of stepping into a completely unknown domain, making every pore on his body tingle.
This wonderful feeling made his heart beat faster and faster.
"...Is your company's interior design style always this wild?"
In an attempt to distract himself, Ming Po subconsciously quipped.
"How is that possible..."
Gao Fan quietly retorted, "The layout is certainly similar, but the colors were definitely not like this... If anyone actually worked in a company painted this color, the employees would all suffer ntal breakdowns."
He too could feel that hair-raising sensation—it was the exact reason he had been terrified to approach this place. Only, compared to the faint 'scent' leaking outside, the aura inside was a pure, concentrated version.
It was an unnatural feeling, where every step forward made him feel like danger was thickly wrapping itself around him.
Gao Fan's instincts entirely prevented him from finding the correct path.
Or rather... according to the passive effects of his Escapee Title, the absolute only path to survival was directly behind him.
Aside from turning around and leaving, there was no other way to survive.
And as they continued to press forward, the magnetic pull of this 'only path to survival' rapidly dissipated.
It was just like pulling a magnet away from a piece of tal—once the distance crossed a certain threshold, the sticking sensation abruptly vanished.
Gao Fan was utterly subrged in this deep-sea-like terror. At this very mont, Ming Po, who was staying close beside him, beca his sole beacon of light in the abyssal depths.
He could not help but shuffle a bit closer.
This caused Gao Fan to montarily fall into a daze, developing a strange illusion...
He recalled a mory that had long since grown blurry.
When he was a child... around three or four years old, he had experienced a similar feeling the first ti he followed his father to a temple fair.
It was his first ti visiting a place packed with so many people.
The deafening sounds of gongs and drums at the Longhua Temple Fair, combined with the endless streams of strangers coming and going, left little Gao Fan feeling tense, curious, and afraid. He repeatedly looked left and right, sizing up everything around him.
His father had held his hand as they walked through the crowd.
Gao Fan had been extrely clingy back then.
Perhaps in an attempt to nurture his independence, his father let go of his hand at so unknown point. At the ti, Gao Fan had been distracted by the people on the roadside and failed to imdiately realize what had happened.
When he finally realized his father had left him, Gao Fan was terrified. He cried out loudly, wailing with lung-tearing intensity.
He froze in place, too scared to move a single muscle.
In that mont, a terror akin to plumting into the deep sea fiercely seized his very soul.
In reality, his father had been watching him from nearby the entire ti.
According to what his father told him later, he simply wanted to see what his child would do when separated from him—would he be brave, or cowardly?
Would he run around blindly, or stay put? Would he seek help from others, or blindly trust strangers and let himself be led away?
He had wanted to assess his child's instinctive reactions before providing targeted education, explaining exactly why certain actions were dangerous.
But to be completely honest, Gao Fan had forgotten all about the subsequent educational lecture.
He only rembered the sheer terror.
He rembered exactly how he had clung to his father when the man finally erged from the crowd, desperately trying to soothe the fear in his heart.
It felt exactly like huddling an icy body close to a roaring stove in the dead of winter.
Even to this day, Gao Fan harbored a phobia of temple fairs with their gongs and drums, and he was deeply afraid of being surrounded by too many strangers.
That was likely a lingering trauma left behind from that specific incident.
And now, he was experiencing that exact sa feeling once again.
For so unknown reason, Gao Fan always felt like he had forgotten sothing incredibly important.
It was only now, as this profound sense of fear resurfaced, that the vague concept finally bobbed into his consciousness—yet he still could not recall exactly what it was he had forgotten.
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