Chapter 1 A Piece of the Puzzle

December 25th, 2102.

A small town in Maine.

Early in the morning, a nine-year-old boy woke up from a dream and stretched contentedly.

He rubbed his eyes, glanced at the alarm clock by his bed, and then jumped out of bed, running downstairs in his pajamas.

"Wow!" A minute later, the little boy's joyful shout echoed in the living room on the first floor.

"Mom~ Mom~" A few minutes later, he happily ran upstairs, burst into his mother's room, jumped onto the bed, and excitedly said, "Look what Santa gave me!"

His mother, still in bed, smiled sleepily and replied, "Heh... looks like you're a postman now, my little sweetie."

The little boy grinned, adjusted the postman's hat on his head, and gave his mother a salute: "Ready to serve!"

His mother reached out and pinched the child's cheek: "Alright, Mr. Postman, go back to your room and get dressed, or you'll catch a cold."

"Yes, ma'am!" The little boy replied loudly, skipping out of the room.

Watching her child leave, a warm smile appeared on the mother's face.

But seconds later, as if remembering something, her expression suddenly darkened. Her gaze instinctively shifted to the nightstand...

On the nightstand sat a photo frame, the photo inside not too old. In the photo was a family of three – a handsome father, a beautiful mother, and an adorable little boy.

"Mom, when is Dad coming home?" Two years ago, the little boy had asked his mother this question on Christmas.

But his mother just held him and cried, unable to say a complete sentence.

On Christmas Eve that year, the little boy's father had left the post office after work, riding his bicycle straight to the mall to buy a toy for his child, but on the way back... a car accident had taken his life.

From then on, only the mother and son were left in the family, depending on each other for survival.

...

"Put your hat on properly, yes, like that."

At eight-thirty in the morning, after making sure her son was dressed neatly, the mother took the little boy's hand, and they left the house together.

"Hi~ Mr. Marvin, good morning."

"Merry Christmas, Mrs. Dave. Hey~ look, who's this little postman?"

Their neighbors were an elderly black couple, and they always exchanged greetings when they met.

"Hello, Mr. Fulde."

"Huh? Oh... hello, Mrs. Dave."

Another neighbor, Fulde, was a fat man. Everyone in the neighborhood knew he was a single shut-in. Usually, people only saw him when he went out to take out the trash.

"Mom, why does Mr. Fulde always look so listless?" Little Dave asked his mother, looking up after they left the street.

"Because he spends all day in a place without sunlight, eating junk food, and doesn't do anything proper," his mother replied.

"Doesn't he have to work?" Little Dave asked curiously.

"Mr. Fulde inherited a large sum of money from a distant relative, so he doesn't have to work," his mother replied.

"Oh, he's such a lucky person, Mom," Little Dave added.

"Yes, he's lucky..." his mother murmured, then stopped.

After thinking for a few seconds, she crouched down to bring her eyes level with her son's, and said with a stern expression, "Listen, Dave, you have to be like your father, a hardworking and motivated person. Don't envy people like Mr. Fulde. You have to understand... not everyone is so lucky."

"Yes, I will, Mom," Little Dave nodded, replying as if he understood.

...

At nine in the morning, they arrived at the town's park.

Many adults were already sitting on the benches next to the playground, and some stalls selling snacks, drinks, and toys had been set up.

Little Dave quickly joined the other children, going off to play.

Mrs. Dave sat down on a bench and chatted with the other housewives.

Half an hour later, an old man walked up to her and greeted her, "Hi, Wendy, long time no see."

"Oh, hello, Chief Nelson."

"I was over there just now, saw you, and came over to say hello. Merry Christmas, Wendy."

"Merry Christmas, Mr. Nelson. By the way, how is your wife doing lately?"

"Not bad, at home dragging the kids around preparing for the party, so I had to bring my granddaughter to the park to play."

"Heh... I thought you liked children."

"Yes, I like them, but I can't handle them." He shrugged, and after a few seconds, he seemed to see something. "Hey? Is that a street performance?"

"Hmm... Oh, yes." Mrs. Dave followed his gaze and saw the two performers in the distance. "That's 'Archer and Yang'. They're community volunteers who often perform in parks and retirement homes. The children all like them very much."

"Oh?" Nelson seemed intrigued. "Then I have to go take a look..."

They quickly arrived together beside a small truck, standing with the other parents behind a group of excited children.

The little audience in the front row clearly had high expectations for the performance. The children had already gathered around while Archer and Yang were setting up the stage, and they all sat down cross-legged; this naturally included Nelson's granddaughter and Little Dave.

"Alright~ children, the performance is about to begin~"

After getting ready, the two leads jumped onto the makeshift stage beside the truck. One was a big-bearded man dressed as a cowboy, and the other was a bald, burly man wearing a shirt and a waistcoat.

"Children~ today, we're going to perform... an incredibly thrilling... breathtaking... dart-shooting-apple act!"

Although it didn't sound like a particularly interesting performance, it was enough to coax the little ones... and the children happily gave applause and laughter.

...

Glug glug - glug glug glug...

The sound of liquid surging rang in Feng Bujue's ears again.

At the same time, those fragments of memory from before rushed into his brain...

[Warning, Tester No. 8775 is awakening... Warning, a pulse reaction is occurring in the tester's brain, source unknown, please adjust immediately...] The mechanical voice came again.

"Damn it hurts..." This time, Jue-ge gritted his teeth and opened his eyes directly. "Tch... still can't talk. Oh well... being able to see and think is enough..."

While pondering, he moved his eyeballs, trying to observe the surrounding environment as much as possible.

"I see... I'm also immersed in liquid..." He quickly realized that he was also wearing a light-colored, one-piece bodysuit, floating in a glass container filled with liquid. His state... was the same as that of Enoch (if he's also called Enoch in this world) whom he had seen the last time he "opened his eyes."

"Nasal cavity, lungs, ears, all filled with this stuff of unknown composition, but no obvious discomfort, no suffocation; the moment I opened my eyes, my eyeballs were a little sore, but they adapted after a few seconds, even easier than opening your eyes in water..." Feng Bujue's gaze darted around, his mind racing. "Whatever this liquid is, it's definitely not a technological product that this universe should have in 2002... Could it be... a *Matrix* setting?" He quickly rejected this idea. "No, the calluses on my hands are still there. A body that's been soaked in a tank all year round wouldn't have this kind of thing..."

[Warning, tester's brainwave frequency is exceeding limits, test data is beyond normal values, a forced termination program will be initiated in twenty seconds.]

"What kind of test is this exactly? Mental state? Brain function?" Feng Bujue speculated about his situation as he listened to the system's voice.

"Anton! You bastard! How did No. 8775 wake up again?"

"Sir, Anton went to the restroom."

"WTF?"

"Uh... he said he ate something bad for lunch."

"Alright, you don't need to explain for him, hurry up and go to the console and fix this. That guy Anton... I'll deal with him later..."

"Yes, sir."

The people conversing outside the liquid container were the same two as last time. Judging from their conversation, they should be the staff in charge of this "test," and they were in a superior-subordinate relationship.

"Phew... buddy, you really know how to find trouble for me..." A few seconds later, a blurry shadow came to the container where Feng Bujue was, and muttered to himself in a low voice, "Your test values are almost up to standard, and you keep waking up... hmm..." He paused, then let out a cold laugh. "Hmph... forget it, I'll give you a hand and add some 'ingredients' for you... please pass quickly and stop causing me trouble..."

Hearing these words, Feng Bujue really wanted to get out of the container and hug that NPC. Although he didn't fully understand what the other party meant, he already understood... that this NPC, whose name and appearance were unknown, was the one who could truly help him see through the "truth."

People who exist on the "nihilistic" level can only give "nihilistic" answers; while people who exist in "reality" can give him "truth."

[Solution concentration is being increased, special solvent added... Forced termination program has been deactivated, emergency pulse is being prepared, countdown five seconds, five, four, three, two, one...]

Zzzzzzzz...

At the moment he was struck by the "pulse," Feng Bujue heard a familiar sound. After thinking about it for a moment... he immediately realized that the sound was similar to the sound of the ghost postman riding his bike.

In the same second, another wave of memory fragments flashed before his eyes...

...

"Ptooey—" A mouthful of old blood was spat by Jue-ge onto the marble floor.

When his consciousness returned to that magnificent hall, he was still in the same posture as when he smashed the phone to the ground.

Time here... seemed to have never flowed at all.

"Did you find the answer?" The six people surrounding Feng Bujue once again spoke the same sentence in unison.

"Hmph..." The corners of Jue-ge's mouth curved into a cold smile. He slowly stood up and walked towards the long table at the far end of the hall. "I think... it's about time for dinner."