The cold rain stung lightly as it hit Ji Yushi’s face.

Blood spurted from Ji Yushi’s mouth, the bright red liquid streaming down his lips and neck. He knew it must be because the bullet had pierced his lung, and with each breath, more blood gushed out.

He wanted to speak but couldn’t.

Someone was pressing on his chest, as if in a hurry, and the hand trembled violently as it moved to his cheek, trying to wipe away the blood from his lips.

Faintly, he heard the sound of a man sobbing.

He wanted to say, “Song Qinglan, I understand now.”

The three little black cats that had accompanied him for eight years were brought to him when he first started living alone at the age of seventeen.

—After I leave this world.

But every time he tried to open his mouth, more blood flowed out. He could hardly feel the pain, yet he couldn’t stop it.

This was already his predestined end.

The endpoint of his life, written back in 1439.

—To return to the past, to become part of history, and to never be able to change it.

He was breathing rapidly, wanting to see that face one last time. He wanted to tell Song Qinglan, to tell him that in this brief, lonely, and painful life, he was glad Song Qinglan had been there.

Just before plunging into eternal darkness, a powerful thought came to him.

He didn’t want to die.

…

…

[Warning! Warning! You have deviated from your destination coordinates! You have deviated from your destination coordinates!]

Ji Yushi suddenly opened his eyes.

Red light flashed before his eyes, with countless bizarre images flashing rapidly past him. Amidst the intense shaking, a familiar warning voice was shouting, “Illegal crossover detected! Illegal crossover detected!” He barely managed to recognize that he was in an enclosed space—his capsule pod!

What was going on?

The pod was shaking violently, and Ji Yushi had to grip the safety handle tightly. His mind couldn’t process what was happening; it felt like it was about to explode from the flood of memories.

When everything finally calmed down, a mechanical arm handed him a nutrient solution, and he gulped it down, unsure of where he was.

The gunshot wound on his chest was gone, but his pulse and heart rate were racing. The aftereffects of the crossover were so evident, reminding him that he was still alive.

After taking a moment to catch his breath, he looked up at the display on the transparent panel, and cold sweat broke out all over him.

[??p0754%$#37]

[：《“lrr”’l’89”]

These garbled codes were something they had encountered during the Ouroboros mission.

Perhaps an ordinary person couldn’t confirm whether this string of gibberish was the same as what they had seen before, but with Ji Yushi’s photographic memory, he could even write them out backward!

He opened the pod door and stepped out of the capsule.

The early morning sky was a deep gray, and the wind blowing through the forest was cold, with shadows flickering in the dim light coming from the other silver-white glowing pods around him.

Someone tapped him on the shoulder: “Consultant Ji, how do you feel? Are you alright?”

He turned around and saw that it was Duan Wen. Like himself, Duan Wen had just emerged from his capsule pod, but he looked completely normal, showing no signs of being affected by the current situation, as if they were supposed to be back in this mission that had long been completed.

Ji Yushi’s pale face, in the dim light, had a texture like carved ice: “…”

For the first time, he couldn’t find the right words to say.

More people started to gather around.

Tang Qi and Tang Le were quietly discussing the situation, unable to figure it out, while Li Chun, who, like Duan Wen, remembered the loops, was standing next to Zhou Mingxuan, who was opening the mechanical armory with him.

Song Qinglan, dressed in black combat gear that highlighted his long, intimidating legs, exuded a powerful aura.

After selecting his weapons and checking on the state of Shenmian, Song Qinglan glanced at the communicator on his wrist and said to everyone, “It’s 4:43 AM. Let’s move quickly and head straight to the bookstore. Once we get there, we’ll split up and head to Golden Crow One and Golden Crow Two.”

Zhou Mingxuan asked, “Captain Song, we’ve figured out the current situation. Why go to the bookstore?”

Song Qinglan bent over, picked something from the armory, and tossed it to Ji Yushi.

Ji Yushi instinctively caught the heavy object, cold to the touch, and when he looked down, he saw it was a silver gun—his Diamond Bird.

Without seeming to notice Ji Yushi’s distracted state, Song Qinglan nodded at him and answered Zhou Mingxuan’s question: “Last time, we were interrupted by the survivors, and there wasn’t enough time. Consultant Ji didn’t finish reading that book, so we need to go back and see if there are any other clues about what to do when we get to the base. Otherwise, no matter how many times we come back, and no matter how many A and B teams there are, we’ll still die.”

A and B teams?

Ji Yushi suddenly felt even more disoriented. Which team were they?

Why was there no memory of this scene in his mind? Was this all a hallucination or reality?

Everyone was busy sorting their equipment.

Once they were done, they headed towards the park management office. Duan Wen lowered his voice, explaining the current situation to the teammates who didn’t have loop memories.

Ji Yushi followed the group.

Suddenly, a blade’s slicing sound cut through the air, and with a “thud,” a dark figure outside the forest fell heavily, landing just a short distance away from Ji Yushi.

It was the vagrant!

Song Qinglan strode over, pulled his military knife from the vagrant’s forehead, wiped it casually on the corpse’s clothes, and then reinserted it into the leg strap before returning: “Consultant Ji, you seem a bit off.”

Ji Yushi’s steps faltered slightly, unsure how to respond.

Song Qinglan’s expression was so unfamiliar, one he hadn’t seen in a long time. Although it lacked the initial distance from when they first met, it was confined within the bounds of a comrade’s camaraderie. The intense gaze that once made him feel the warmth was gone.

He stared at Song Qinglan, taking in the familiar features—those brows, lips, every detail he knew well. He remembered the fervent and tender kisses from Song Qinglan, the embrace during their high-altitude parachute jump, the desperate cries before death, and the lonely figure waiting under the garden outside his home eight years ago.

And he remembered how Song Qinglan, who had once understood him so well, had solemnly and lovingly called out his real name in the private channel.

“Sheng Han.”

It was the first time hearing that name again made him shudder.

“Consultant Ji?”

Ji Yushi snapped back to reality.

In front of him, Song Qinglan raised an eyebrow slightly, asking with a polite tone, “Was the last death too unpleasant? Are you having some psychological issues?”

Which death?

Ji Yushi couldn’t answer that question, so he simply said, “I’m fine.”

“That’s good. If you have any problems, feel free to call me.” Song Qinglan nodded. “The captain’s duties include, but are not limited to, psychological counseling for teammates.”

Seeing that Song Qinglan was about to move on, Ji Yushi stopped him: “Wait a moment.”

Song Qinglan turned back, teasing, “Do you really need psychological counseling?”

Ji Yushi opened his mouth: “Do you… feel like something’s not right?”

Song Qinglan asked, “What do you mean?”

Those deep, dark eyes showed nothing but the desire to win, to break through, just like the Song Qinglan who led them with burning determination in the Ouroboros mission.

Scenes flashed through Ji Yushi’s mind in an instant. In just one second, the high-speed overlapping of those memories caused a surge of pain that swept through his brain.

The deep gray sky gradually brightened, the air was filled with the familiar stench, and Li Chun’s complaints were just as he remembered.

It was like all the loops they had gone through.

The overload of memories made Ji Yushi’s head throb with pain, his undershirt almost soaked with cold sweat. He casually shook his head: “Nothing.”

He couldn’t distinguish between memory and reality.

He couldn’t tell what had happened from what hadn’t.

It had been a long time since Ji Yushi had experienced such suffering.

He mechanically followed his teammates to get the keys to the space car, calmly shooting a few zombies on the way. From his teammates’ perspective, he probably didn’t seem any different from usual.

The space car sped through the devastated city of PU-31.

Groups of zombies with pale eyes reached out for them, their hands waving frantically as they were mercilessly crushed into a pulp by the space car.

They reached the bookstore in record time, dealt with the elderly zombies there, and then his teammates handed Ji Yushi the book “Golden Crow One: Perpetual Propagation,” the last part of which had been interrupted by the black-faced man. He hadn’t had time to finish reading it. That part happened to be a brief introduction to the operation of the Golden Crow Base—even though Ji Yushi’s memories already held the answers, he still read it quickly.

He couldn’t be sure if the answers in his mind were accurate.

He couldn’t be sure of what the current situation was, as Song Qinglan had noticed—he really wasn’t in the right state.

“Team 3 will be here soon,” Song Qinglan urged. “We can’t meet them now. We need to find a way to leave more clues for them. Consultant Ji, have you found anything?”

Team 3 would drive the space car from the park management office to the bookstore, crushing Team 1, who had just appeared in the loop, on the way.

Timewise, it was very close to now.

Ji Yushi asked, “Is there water?”

Zhou Mingxuan, beside him, opened a bottle and handed it over: “Here.”

When Ji Yushi looked up, he saw that his teammates were both keeping watch for zombies and nervously crowding around him. In front of everyone, he took out the pillbox from his pocket, swallowed two pills with the water, and then casually placed the pillbox on the bookshelf.

Song Qinglan, who usually frowned at his habit of popping pills, didn’t react much, but his gaze lingered on the pillbox on the bookshelf thoughtfully.

Ji Yushi lowered his lashes.

His hands were shaking slightly.

Was the memory of someone who claimed to be his family, who wanted to take care of him, just his fantasy?

“Almost done.” He said, muddled, “Let’s go. I can read more on the way.”

The group quickly set out again, heading straight for Golden Crow One.

On the way, Ji Yushi confirmed that they needed to simultaneously shut down the energy sources of both Golden Crow One and Golden Crow Two to completely destroy this colony in the parallel world. It was exactly the same as the answer in his memory.

“We’re short on manpower. We’ll split into two groups, and gather as much information as possible to leave for A and B teams.”

In the security room of Golden Crow One, Song Qinglan stood in the center of the group, scanning everyone with his gaze before continuing, “In the last loop, we discussed this—some of you might not remember, so I’ll say it again. To break this situation, we must choose the most suitable point on the loop to extend and cover indefinitely, and that point is the upcoming A and B teams! Only by constantly staying ahead of their deaths and leaving traces for them to see can we truly break the cycle. So our purpose in being reborn in the loop each time is only one thing—to pave the way for A and B teams! Got it?”

Everyone: “Got it!”

Song Qinglan smirked mischievously: “Good.”

He counted heads and gear, then said, “I, Old Duan, and Li Chun will stay in Golden Crow One. Consultant Ji, Tang Qi, Tang Le, and Zhou Mingxuan, you four go to Golden Crow Two.”

Everyone: “Yes!”

After finishing, Song Qinglan drew his military knife and carved a line into the ground:

Shut down both base energy sources.

Team 5.

Ji Yushi suddenly understood—they were the first team to disappear in the loop, Team 5!

No wonder Song Qinglan had been staring at the pillbox in the bookstore, deep in thought. It was because they had already analyzed why it could coexist with Team 3’s pillbox. It was all just inadvertently completing this task, with no distinction between cause and effect, and mutually reinforcing cause and effect!

After the Ouroboros mission, the memories of everyone in A and B teams merged with those of another version of themselves. They had no memory of what had happened to the versions of themselves that disappeared due to the paradox.

Ji Yushi’s scalp tingled.

He hadn’t expected to witness this moment.

But now…

Why had he returned to this loop?

Or had he never left the loop in the first place?

On the other side.

Song Qinglan had also returned to the Ouroboros mission.

After another jump warning and another return to the nightmare of PU-31, the first thing Song Qinglan did after landing was to open the pod door to find someone.

“Captain Song!”

“Is Chun’er going to puke—”

“Ugh!!”

The teammates were teasing and joking, but when Song Qinglan passed by Li Chun’s capsule, he kicked the door shut: “If you’re going to puke, do it at home. You lazy bastard, you only rode the pendulum twice during the holiday.”

Then, he strode towards Ji Yushi’s capsule.

The door opened.

Inside was someone with a handsome face and a slender build, even the way he stepped out of the pod was graceful.

Song Qinglan stared intently at that face, the sight of the living, breathing person in front of him making him almost lose control. Even the breath entering his lungs seemed to pull on every nerve in his body, causing pain. But when Ji Yushi looked up, meeting his gaze, his heart sank.

Those beautiful eyes held a polite distance, and there was a hint of surprise at seeing him standing at the door of his capsule: “Captain Song.”

No excitement, no emotion of reunion, not even the slightest shock at coming back to life.

It was like a replayed video. Song Qinglan felt a sense of unreality. He suspected that the so-called Sky Vault mother system had simply rewound time without creating a proper time anchor for him and Ji Yushi. Everything seemed familiar, just like one of the countless loops.

Seeing that Song Qinglan hadn’t moved, Ji Yushi spoke again: “Thank you for pulling me out of the car.”

Ji Yushi was referring to the time when they crashed into the barbed wire outside the bookstore and Song Qinglan pulled him out of the car.

Song Qinglan was breathless.

Which loop was this? The third? Or which one? Why didn’t he remember this conversation?

God knows he didn’t want to care about this already completed mission. No matter which Ji Yushi this was, he wanted to give him a tight hug, to hold him close. But the pain in his heart tore at him, and he knew he couldn’t do that. Even if the details and conversations had changed, he couldn’t alter the overall direction of this “history.” He had to let the mission play out according to his memories.

Noticing the sudden clenching of Song Qinglan’s hands.

Ji Yushi asked, “What’s wrong?”

What’s wrong?

He could see but couldn’t touch, couldn’t hold.

…

Song Qinglan suppressed his frustration: “Nothing.”

He turned away, forcing himself not to disrupt the current situation, assigning tasks to his teammates according to the points in his memory.

His limited patience could only support him in analyzing the situation. Sky Vault had named this time anchor “Overload,” meaning it had exceeded the original mission plan. Inserting two people into the original loop meant there was a possibility that he and Ji Yushi hadn’t been reborn in the same loop. He had to observe the situation.

If he had waited through such difficult times, was he afraid of not getting an answer?

But the person behind him wasn’t cooperating.

Ji Yushi took a step closer, his cool scent faintly reaching Song Qinglan’s senses: “Captain Song.”

Ji Yushi’s voice was clear, and his tone was pleasant to hear. When he called out to him like this, it always made him feel special.

Song Qinglan stiffened his throat: “What?”

Ji Yushi said, “Let’s go straight to the bookstore. I didn’t have time to finish reading a clue.”

Song Qinglan agreed.

They quickly left the forest, and just as in his memory, Ji Yushi explained to the teammates who were still confused about the situation what a time anchor was and gave a preliminary analysis of the rule of “elimination by death.” Even if it differed from the final analysis in the later loops, Ji Yushi was already very capable.

They drove the space car.

At an intersection, they encountered a small car that swerved to avoid them.

Song Qinglan finally figured something out—they were Team 4, meaning that he and the Ji Yushi beside him were in the later loops, the B team.

The more he thought about it, the colder his expression became—so, he still had to play out this loop to the last step, go to Golden Crow Two, and then start the next loop.

As in his memory, after getting separated from his teammates in the Runjin Building, he and Ji Yushi were surrounded by zombies on the way to the bookstore and were forced to hide in a power distribution room.

The cramped power distribution room was pitch black.

They had to stand almost face-to-face. Ji Yushi accidentally stepped on his foot.

Enough was enough.

“Consultant Ji.” Song Qinglan turned his head back, almost inhaling Ji Yushi’s scent, “You stepped on my foot.”

He sensed Ji Yushi’s body tense.

Song Qinglan had meant to satisfy his mischievous side, trying to take advantage of Ji Yushi, but the sudden return to a more innocent interaction made his heart race.

Before Ji Yushi could move his foot away, he said, “Don’t.”

Ji Yushi stopped moving.

“I’m letting you step on it now, so you can remember to be nicer next time, not hold grudges.”

He said this, trying to see Ji Yushi’s face in the dark. The situation reminded him of the time at Ji Yushi’s house when Ji Yushi had pulled him down by the towel after a shower, delivering a kiss in this very pose.

Remember something good.

Don’t keep holding onto memories of who he gave a dice to, who he mistakenly thought was playing 4P, or who he dissed for liking pretty girls in kindergarten.

Unfortunately, this Ji Yushi wasn’t his Ji Yushi and didn’t understand the deeper meaning behind his words.

As soon as Song Qinglan said that, he felt a sharp pain on the instep of his foot. Ji Yushi stepped down hard and casually replied, “Oh.”

Well, that was a bit too early.

This guy was still holding a grudge from the last loop when Song Qinglan had pinned him against a bookshelf and left his wrists bruised.

Song Qinglan gritted his teeth: “I said you could, but you really stepped on it hard.”

Ji Yushi moved his foot away, sincerely dismissive: “Sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

Song Qinglan: “You’re forgiven.”

No one knew that he would have allowed Ji Yushi to step on him a hundred more times.

Before long, they regrouped with Team 3. After fighting with another version of himself, they teamed up with Team 3 to head to Golden Crow One.

Song Qinglan observed the Ji Yushi of Team A from a distance through binoculars.

As soon as the person appeared in his field of vision, his heart ached.

The man sitting on the balcony, dressed in a white t-shirt, had just been injured, with a bullet wound in his abdomen, overlapping with the one who was shot in the chest and mistakenly killed.

“What’s wrong?” someone asked.

“Hm?” He put down the binoculars and turned back.

The Ji Yushi beside him asked, “Captain Song, your face suddenly changed. Did something happen?”

“No.” Song Qinglan smiled at Ji Yushi’s fair and clean face, “I just wanted to say that we’ll all make it back alive.”

…

Later, they made contact with Team A.

The teammates worked together, and under Ji Yushi’s analysis and calculations, Song Qinglan cooperated with him to shut down the energy source of Golden Crow One.

Then, they moved on to Golden Crow Two to assist Team A.

Finally, they returned to the capsule pod, completing all the small loops.

Before the black wall appeared, Song Qinglan made a wish, hoping that he and Ji Yushi would be reborn in the same big loop.

Then, when he arrived at the new anchor point and faced Ji Yushi, who still didn’t remember everything they had been through, he could only curse the Sky Vault mother system a million times.

Once.

And again.

Each time, it wasn’t the Ji Yushi he wanted.

Song Qinglan couldn’t control himself any longer.