That woman's words were like a curse. As soon as she spoke, the surrounding space suddenly twisted and gradually expanded outwards…

In that instant, the scenery in Feng Bujue's eyes flowed like paint on a palette, with only the woman and Nelson remaining clear.

"Looks like... I've come to the right place..." Faced with this sudden change, Jue-ge (Brother Jue) was not flustered at all. He simply stood with his gun, watching what would happen.

A minute passed... The distorted space stopped spreading and began to stabilize again.

Now, Nelson's office had vanished, replaced by a vast, magnificent hall.

The walls of the hall were pure white, carved with neat patterns, and adorned with large oil paintings and tapestries. The marble floor was hard and smooth, and a huge crystal chandelier hung from the five-meter-high ceiling.

"Mr. Dave," Nelson's voice soon rang out again, "Welcome to... the Last Supper." As he spoke, he raised an arm and gestured towards one side of the hall.

There stood a long table, covered with a white tablecloth and laden with food.

On one side of the long table were thirteen chairs, and at this moment, those thirteen chairs were occupied by thirteen people.

"Eh? What's going on..." Under the lights, Feng Bujue finally saw the faces of the thirteen fat men clearly. "You... what exactly are you?"

He asked this question for two reasons: first, these thirteen fat men looked exactly the same; second, these fat men's faces... were clearly "fat versions" of Dave.

"You should know what they are," the mysterious woman responded.

"I don't know," Feng Bujue looked at her and replied loudly.

"No, you do," Nelson added from the other side.

"Heh..." Feng Bujue sneered and pointed the gun at the mysterious woman. "You..." He then pointed at Nelson. "...and you... Chief. I don't care what you think, but I can clearly state that I find everything that's happening before me utterly perplexing. If you two know something, I hope you can answer my questions."

"That's impossible," Nelson replied in a serious, firm tone. "Only you yourself can answer all of this."

"Everything we can tell you exists only on a 'void' level," the mysterious woman continued. "When you see through the 'truth,' you will naturally understand the meaning of this 'void.'"

"Then how am I supposed to see through this 'truth' you speak of?" Feng Bujue asked.

"Simple, open your eyes." At this moment, another voice suddenly came from the corner of the hall, answering his question.

Jue-ge followed the sound and turned his head, seeing Mr. M in the direction from which the voice came.

"Hmph... you're here too..." Feng Bujue narrowed his eyes. "Judging by this pattern... are those two at the bar also..."

"Yes, we're here too." Shooter interrupted Jue-ge's words, appearing in the hall with Yang.

The way these guys appeared was like teleportation. Jue-ge only turned his face slightly, and they appeared in his blind spot.

"Okay... let me think..." Feng Bujue shrugged. "If that lady is right, then you guys..." He said, glancing at the dining table again, "...and those thirteen, are all derivatives of the 'void' level as well?"

"Yes, and no," the mysterious woman replied.

"Your question cannot be answered with a simple yes or no," Nelson added.

"In fact, we can't answer you either," Mr. M said.

"There is only one person who knows all the answers..." Yang continued.

"And that's you," Shooter pointed at Jue-ge.

The five of them spoke in unison, but Jue-ge's question remained unanswered.

"Alright, I've had enough." Feng Bujue put down his gun, revealing an impatient expression. "Is there anyone here who can speak plainly? Can you dare to say something that isn't so ambiguous and useless, or give me some substantial help?"

"The one who can help you..." At this instant, another voice rang out, "is only yourself."

This voice was completely identical to "Dave's" own voice...

Feng Bujue turned his head sharply after hearing the voice and saw... another "Dave."

That "Dave" was wearing a formal postal worker uniform, carrying a satchel... his face was very pale, but his eyes were bright and piercing.

"Ghost Postman?" Feng Bujue looked at the other man for two seconds and asked in a deep voice.

"That's right," the Ghost Postman replied. "Of course... you can also call me Dave."

"Heh..." Feng Bujue chuckled dryly, then asked, "Can you help me? Dave."

"No, because you broke my bicycle," Dave replied.

"I broke 'my' bicycle," Feng Bujue retorted.

"Yes, it was 'my' bicycle," Dave emphasized again.

"Damn..." Jue-ge couldn't refute such an absurd answer, so he could only say "damn."

"Mr. Dave," Nelson interjected at this time, "You should have read the work manual; you are responsible for the consequences of breaking the bicycle."

"Oh... so that's what it means..." Feng Bujue pondered. He immediately understood... "Breaking the bicycle" was a flag. If he hadn't triggered it, he could have gotten help from the Ghost Postman here. Unfortunately... it was too late to know now.

"Then... what should I do now?" Feng Bujue asked. "What do I need to do to see through the 'truth'?"

In the next second, the six people around him answered in unison, "Open your eyes."

"Hmph... fine, fine... open them then." Feng Bujue shook his head and smiled wryly.

He did know a way to "open his eyes," and that method wasn't complicated... However, the last time he used it, the mysterious woman suddenly appeared and told him... that this method would bring "irreversible consequences."

"Everyone..." Feng Bujue took out his Nokia 3310 from his pocket, held it in his left hand, and raised it high. "...I'll be right back."

After speaking, he knelt on one knee and swung his arm forcefully towards the ground. The lower part of the phone, like a protruding hilt, was heavily smashed against the marble floor.

Two seconds later, accompanied by a loud "clang--", the marble cracked.

Almost at the same instant, an indescribable, intense pain exploded in Jue-ge's skull.

Before the pain could fully dissipate, Feng Bujue's eyes went dark, and he lost all sensation in his body…