The taste of sea water is bitter and salty. I got up from the ground while saying "Puh" to the lingering taste in my mouth.

"Don't move." The person behind me grabbed my neck and pushed me forward. "Go."

I staggered, speechless.

Why don't you take off my blindfold? I can't even see the road clearly. You make me feel insecure.

Really, they went through so much trouble to get me here, but in the end they treated me like this.

Humph, you’d better not let me know who you are, otherwise I will make you pay!

The person behind me kept pushing my shoulders, and I could only follow the force and keep moving forward. To be honest, my body was really full of wounds and had not recovered at all.

After the bumpy ride just now, the wound on my abdomen was not that bad, but the main problem was that my collarbone started bleeding again.

My blood won't run dry, will it?

I took one last step and the man left. I must have entered an elevator, and a subtle sense of weightlessness suddenly appeared. The elevator was heading downwards. Based on the feeling of falling, I could roughly calculate the speed of descent.

Five seconds, fifteen seconds, twenty-five seconds.

I descended about 42 meters. As long as I could open my eyes for a while, I could measure the height of each floor, and then I could roughly know how many floors I had crossed.

I am just too bored to think about this kind of thing.

With a "ding" sound, the elevator door opened.

Another voice outside, "Come out."

Anyway, it went on and on, and finally stopped. I was forced to sit on a chair, my hands were untied and pinned back to the armrests of the seat, and the black mask in front of my eyes was finally taken off.

The sudden light made my eyes uncomfortable for a moment, or it might be because the whole room was filled with white furniture and equipment, so white that it reflected light and really hurt my eyes.

I am already nearsighted. Can you please take good care of my eyes?

The hand behind me forcibly pulled my head up as I was looking down at my wrist, and then something was put around my neck - and this "ring" was the kind that was fixed on the back of a chair.

I was now forced to sit up straight—like I was being detoxed from the internet—with my wrists, ankles, and neck restrained.

It's as if I have room to resist because my hands and feet are free.

"My neck hurts so much, can't you be a little gentler?" I tried to move my neck, but the pressure from the back became even tighter, even pressing directly on my Adam's apple.

That’s too much.

My breathing was affected.

Even the butcher doesn’t get such treatment, okay?

Am I already so impressive now?

"Hey - are you dumb?" I looked back and up, but the man ignored me. A masked man in front of me roughly tore off the bandages on my collarbone and abdomen, and then he poked his medical-gloved fingers directly in, as if to confirm that there was nothing hidden in my body.

So disgusting, can't you be a little more civilized?

Not only that, I could see a machine up ahead that was checking something using high technology.

Fortunately, I was smart enough and had already decided to take the risk myself. How could I possibly carry the important fragments of the "book" with me?

After a series of examinations were completed, they finally helped me sew up the wound. I was even forced to take off my clothes and changed into clothes like those of a patient in a mental hospital.

Is it so cautious? No, it is not just a matter of caution. This series of actions can undoubtedly give people a huge psychological pressure. The blindfolded person and the pure white room are all designed to attack the psychological defense of the arrested person.

I almost forgot about the rough inspection method just now.

If it were someone weaker, his mentality would have already collapsed.

But I am different. My heart is as solid as a rock.

After everyone left, the sound of a loudspeaker was heard in the room - was it a loudspeaker? You don't even want to talk to me face to face?

It would be better to put me in Meursault and face the slayer.

"No matter who you were in the past or what your name was, from now on, your number is 619." The voice on the other end had some mechanical electric current sound, a bit like a changed sound.

Requires special voice change.

Are you afraid that I will recognize this voice?

Is that someone I know, or a voice I've heard before?

A voice I'm familiar with...

I was born too recently, so I haven't heard many voices, let alone those of ordinary people, let alone any that I can remember.

This is another simple process of elimination, and a question so simple to answer that it’s almost an insult to your IQ.

Filter "our own people" - there is no need to filter them, there are only two people who can be related to Agency 7.

One is Ango and the other is Tuozong.

Don't say that Ango doesn't have time to take care of me now. Even if he did have time, I wouldn't be his top priority.

So the answer is Mr. Tuo?

I suddenly thought of the conversation with Mr. Tuo in KFC. He seemed to have some guesses about my identity.

The fact that he could even use a "book" to test me meant that to him, my value was greater than the "book" itself - I was truly flattered.

So he had every intention of messing with me.

But he skipped the Five Decays of Heaven and the Rat of the Dead House, so it is hard to say what position "Agency No. 7" occupies in it. But once it involves President Tuo, I always prefer to believe that President Tuo is the dominant party.

In other words, this is most likely his personal plan.

Things are really getting more and more interesting.

I sighed, "Fei Jia, why waste so many resources to come here? If you ask me to come, how could I not come?"

There was silence for about three seconds on the other side of the microphone. Then a harsh electric current sound echoed on the loudspeaker, and the sound on the other side finally returned to normal.

And as expected.

I reasonably suspected that all my actions along the way were Tuo's attempts to test my mental and physical condition.

Otherwise, with his ability, if someone else spoke, there would be no need to reveal such a big loophole as the voice changer.

He wanted me to recognize him on purpose.

Or rather, he wanted to give me a chance to recognize him. And my performance probably determined his attitude towards me in the future.

The door in front opened, and a pure white Tuo Zong walked into the pure white room.

"It's the second time we meet." Mr. Tuo came in, followed by a man who placed a chair for him opposite me.

I rolled my eyes very appropriately. I don't know why his appearance suddenly seemed to stimulate me. Is this the charm of the script team?

"For me, it's not the second time." The words just came out of my mouth, but after the memory went through my mind, I found that I couldn't accurately tell him how I met him more.

How come you suddenly said this?

Is there something wrong with me?

No, not me, but my memory, my brain.

I looked at Mr. Tuo warily - could he have done this?

No, I won't be easily induced to change my memory, and the ability to change cognition will not work on me.

Even "Shu" excludes me and Zaizi - wait, why did I give Dazai-sama such a strange name as "Zaizi"?

Is this something I would do?

Or rather, I am the one who has the problem because I have such doubts.

Someone did something to me—or rather, something did something to me.

What is the purpose of doing this?

What are the means to do this?

And when did you start doing this?

Is it just me who didn't notice it, or are there more people who didn't notice it either?

Am I the only one who has changed, or has everything I know changed?

——It is beyond human power, I can only come to this conclusion.

Human power is the uncontrollable force of "books".

However, this is something that even a "book" cannot do, because I believe that no one can write such a perfect script that can subtly change my mind.

So, what is the power that “book” has?