“Is there a way?” William Thompson’s eyes widened, and with a calmness that even surprised himself, he quickly shot back.

“Has anyone ever survived? Can you help me?”

The oppression in his heart seemed to suddenly find a breakthrough, like grabbing onto a lifeline.

If there was someone who knew the inside story and could help him, maybe he could escape!

Such thoughts flashed rapidly through his mind.

“Me?” The man laughed, turned his head, and looked out the car window ahead. “I’m just a failure. A useless person—how could I help you?”

“That place.” He turned his head back to look at William Thompson. “No one can help you. The only one you can rely on is yourself.”

“Just like my former friends, my son—they were the same.”

As he spoke, he pulled a cigarette from the inside pocket of his black suit, bowed his head slightly to light it, and took a drag.

“Go on, don’t stay here with me. Bad luck.” He waved his hand at William Thompson.

“There must be a way, right? Since you came here on your own and started talking to me, there must be a way, isn’t there?” William Thompson wasn’t stupid.

The other party could see the signs on him and took the initiative to talk to him—there was no way that was a coincidence.

If he really thought he was bad luck, why not just ignore him from the start?

“You’re a bit clever.” The man smiled, flicked his cigarette out the window.

“But even if you escape for a while, so what? Sooner or later, you’ll die—again and again, with no end, no hope in sight.”

“The future is the future, but right now, I don’t want to die!” William Thompson stared at him seriously, answering word by word.

“Then why should I help you?” the man asked again.

“Since you came here and started talking to me, it means there must be something on me that you need,” William Thompson said. “So...”

“So,” the man interrupted, “if you can survive the first time, then we might have a chance to work together.”

“Fine! How do I survive?” William Thompson asked quickly. “Should I tell you what I’ve experienced...”

“No need!” the man interrupted again. “It’s meaningless. Only certain people can enter the dead end, and only in their own unique way. Once you enter, it will keep coming for you, again and again, until it completely devours you.”

“Then, how can I survive!?” William Thompson pressed on.

“After you fully enter for the third time, find the exit and leave that place—you’ll survive,” the man replied. “But... there’s no real exit there. Just like when you entered, you’ll need to find a similarly special way to find the door out.”

He pointed to his own head.

“You need to think, not use force. In there, weapons, numbers—none of that matters. Oh, and I advise you not to call the police, or you might lose even your last shred of hope.”

“I...” William Thompson wanted to ask more, but the other’s car window was already rolling up.

Through the window, the man waved at him, started the car, and slowly drove away.

He seemed to have no faith that William Thompson could survive, a faint trace of disappointment in his expression.

Maybe William Thompson wasn’t the person he was looking for at all.

------------

008 Hope II (Xie Yixi Becomes Dao Alliance Leader)

Watching the car gradually drive away, William Thompson stood where he was. He wanted to chase after it, but the meaning in the man’s words made his heart turn cold as well.

That man’s friends and son seemed to have all died in the dead end.

This world... appears peaceful, but dangers like the dead end seem to lurk everywhere.

And what did that man’s last words mean?

Why would calling the police make you lose your last shred of hope?

Countless thoughts spun through William Thompson’s mind. But he had no clue.

He picked up his phone and kept searching for information about the dead end.

The sky gradually darkened, and the streetlights along the road slowly lit up with a yellow glow.

Some students, hands in their pockets, began to stroll around in small groups.

Shops on both sides of the street lit up one after another, all kinds of colored lights making this area unusually bright.

William Thompson kept standing there, frantically searching for information about the dead end.

But there was nothing.

All information seemed to have been blocked and deleted, leaving only a few simple missing person cases circulating online.

Disappointed, he put down his phone and looked up at the sky.

In the sky, a round moon the size of a washbasin hung quietly in the center, silent and serene.

‘There must be a way...’

William Thompson glanced back at the café, but didn’t return. Instead, he put away his phone and walked toward the bus stop.

As his pant leg brushed the greenbelt between the road and the sidewalk, a line of clear black characters once again appeared on the back of his right hand.

William Thompson didn’t notice, nor could he see it. His mind kept replaying that strange underground garage, that bizarre giant human face.

A powerful sense of oppression and panic filled every part of his body. If he weren’t forcing himself to control his body, he might have already been trembling with fear.

He walked along the greenbelt.

In William Thompson’s mind, all sorts of methods and possibilities for escaping the dead end flashed wildly.