At this moment, William Thompson’s attention gradually sharpened. He tapped open link after link on his phone, and to his surprise, he actually found some unusual things.

‘Dead End Forum?’

‘Dead End Club.’

‘Dead End Institute.’

One related website after another entered his field of vision.

He casually clicked on a Dead End Club.

Immediately, a pitch-black webpage popped up on the screen.

‘If you encounter a dead end, don’t be afraid. Because whether you’re afraid or not, you will die.’

A line of red text slowly appeared.

‘A dead end is inescapable. It’s like a shackle, forever binding your neck, making it impossible to breathe, step by step leading you into despair.’

After the red text finished displaying, rows of news links appeared.

‘A couple in Wanxi City mysteriously disappeared in their own home, with freshly cooked hot noodles still on the table after their disappearance.’

‘An elderly person in Jiaxin City went out to throw out the trash at midnight and never returned. Surveillance showed nothing unusual, suggesting the elderly person may never have left the stairwell.’

‘A student in Yiyang City mysteriously disappeared on the way home from school, with no trace found on any of the street cameras before or after.’

Row after row of news, all collected missing persons cases from various places.

At the very bottom was a button for a common knowledge exchange portal.

William Thompson clicked it, and the screen immediately switched to another webpage.

It was a forum-like interface. At the top of the rows of posts, several bright red titles were pinned.

‘1: Overview of community rules, how to earn points.’

‘2: Must-read for newcomers.’

‘3: When posting and communicating, be sure to protect your personal information to avoid being deceived. Recently, there have been criminals....’

William Thompson quickly clicked on the must-read for newcomers.

With a swipe, a block of text popped up, several hundred words in total.

‘No one has ever seen a dead end. Maybe it’s just a legend, but the ever-increasing number of missing persons cases makes us believe that some kind of force is constantly approaching, constantly appearing.’

‘Dead ends are hard to detect and are easily mistaken for dreams. But unfortunately, you can wake up from a dream, while after entering a dead end, you are doomed to die and will never reappear.’

‘If you encounter a dead end, please do not contact us. Try to enjoy the last beautiful moments of your life. Dead ends usually approach slowly and will completely pull you in on the third warning. Go and do everything you’ve always wanted to do but never dared.’

William Thompson frowned slightly.

The information on this forum exuded a sense of despair and resignation.

He quickly looked at the position of the message poster, where there was a username.

‘——The Scholar.’

He quickly clicked on this name, and a small pop-up box appeared on the screen.

‘Username: The Scholar. Real name: Emily Bolton. Mysteriously disappeared at home in June 2022, whereabouts still unknown. If found, please contact this number.’

Below was a black-and-white photo of a woman, along with a line of phone numbers.

The person in the photo looked less like a woman and more like an extremely strong, burly man with a buzz cut.

Her eyes were sharp and defiant, with a scar on her forehead and a neck as thick as a bucket. Even through the photo, you could see the lines of powerful muscles.

She wore a tight-fitting army green T-shirt with a military insignia, likely having served in the military.

William Thompson glanced at the current time: Thursday, May 13, 2024.

‘Has she already been missing for almost two years?’

He sighed inwardly. If before he still doubted whether what he experienced was a hallucination or a dream, now, after seeing so much real evidence, he understood that what he experienced was not an illusion.

He continued searching the forum. Aside from a few tips, most of the forum was just hobbyists bragging about their dreams.

Not finding any more information, William Thompson helplessly closed the website.

By now, dusk was falling.

He walked to a bus stop and stood waiting.

As he stood there, he vaguely felt a bit tired, perhaps from eating too many sweets.

He took out his phone and continued browsing the web, looking up information about dead ends.

Click, click.

Suddenly, his phone screen froze, then instantly turned into a cartoon image of a little yellow dog wagging its tail while sitting.

Below was a line of text.

‘Sorry, your network signal is poor. Please check and try again.’

“Hm?”

William Thompson quickly glanced at the signal bar in the upper right corner of his phone. Sure enough, the previously full signal bars were now all empty, replaced by a red X.

He shook his phone, wondering if it was malfunctioning, but suddenly felt something was off—the surroundings seemed too quiet.

He looked up.

His eyes widened in shock.

Around him, it was no longer the bus stop!

It was the underground parking garage he had entered before!!

Inside the dim parking lot.

In the square, empty space, there wasn’t a single car. It was like a sealed long box, stretching all the way to the edge of his vision.

White fluorescent tubes split into two rows down the center of the ceiling.

On the right was a long, straight row of lights, shining all the way to the end of his sight.

On the left were segments of horizontal lights, each a meter-long cold light tube, one every five meters, also stretching to the end of his vision.

‘....!!’

William Thompson stood frozen in place, his neck stiffly turning to look left and right.