Lin Yi didn't know whether Wei Shan was looking at the void where he was, or just the direction, and he felt a slight shock in his heart...

But he quickly realized something, turned around, and discovered that behind him, the dense fog suddenly began to roll violently, accompanied by the flickering, dim yellow light, the security guard holding an old kerosene lamp, like a heavy tank breaking through the mist, arrived in front of him.

"It's the security guard!" he heard Wei Liang's voice, fearful and excited.

At this moment, it was just like that moment.

Right then, the security guard, not knowing what he had noticed, abruptly turned his head, and his pair of golden eyes met with "yesterday's self."

However, at this moment, Lin Yi was sweating profusely, his whole body as if struck by lightning, frozen in place, not daring to move an inch.

The security guard's burning golden eyes seemed to be watching... the current him.

'Creak creak—'

The security guard slowly clenched the white-powder-coated club in his hand, and a stiff sound came from his grip.

The security guard's brow furrowed slightly, and even his sun-like eyes seemed to become even more dazzling, as he sniffed Lin Yi "yesterday's self" in front of him.

"..."

He said nothing, turned around, and stepped into the fog from under the light.

Seeing that yesterday's group followed, Lin Yi also floated after them...

Yet, his brows were deeply furrowed, pondering a very serious question.

"What on earth is going on...?"

"Am I not in a dream? Why do Wei Sang and the security guard... seem to have sensed my presence?"

"Or is it that Wei Sang smelled the non-human Unit's scent hidden in the mist? And is that why the security guard also sniffed 'my' scent?"

Because Lin Yi vaguely remembered that yesterday, when he rushed toward the lamppost with Wei Liang, the eerie art teacher seemed to be closely following behind them, but because he didn't turn around, he hence did not trigger some subsequent crises.

But according to experience, not triggering any special "scene" doesn't mean there was no "Contamination."

In other words—

"Is it very possible that I was contaminated a long time ago? And I just don't know it?"

He couldn't help but think again of the Boss's words— "It's hard to imagine you could have made it alive to the Gymnasium."

"Damn, was I supposed to run into trouble from the beginning...?"

He couldn't help but shudder—even though he seemed to have no form.

He slowly followed the group when suddenly, he saw the green Pocket Chef slowly move behind Mao Feiyang...

"Maozi." That green Pocket Chef emitted a voice that sounded exactly like his.

Then, Mao Feiyang instinctively turned his head around.

"Not good!" Lin Yi thought to himself, but like he had opened a God's-eye view, he watched as these past events unfolded, unable to change anything.

The green Pocket Chef drooped its head, its mouth's curve bent like a clown's; surrounded by the menacing white mist, it appeared to be reduced to only its human sculpture-like outline.

"Maozi."

"Maozi."

"Come with me."

"Come with me..."

"Heh heh heh..."

Within the mist, the green Pocket Chef's mouth issued a diabolical sound that was exactly the same as "Lin Yi," cold as a gust of wind in a frozen land of ice and snow.

Mao Feiyang's eyes were filled with terror, and his gaunt, dark face dripped with cold sweat.

"No... no no no... no..."

He swiftly turned around, running away in a panic, chasing after "yesterday's Lin Yi."

"Hehehe... you see me, you... see me..." The ghastly white mist roiled and churned as the green-aproned Pocket Chef suddenly swept away like a specter.

At this moment, it was nothing like a walking corpse; it was as though it had established some sort of connection with Mao Feiyang, exhibiting an incredible hunting ability.

The ghastly white mist, like clouds, carried its shell, enabling it to cling to Mao Feiyang's shadow like a phantom...

Its cyan-gray, porcelain-like palm hovered a centimeter or two away from Mao Feiyang's neck and behind his ears, gently brushing the air, occasionally blowing out some smoky white powder particles...

Mao Feiyang could see it, sense its presence, and even feel the sandy texture of the white powder as it pattered against his face.

But he clenched his teeth tightly, struggling with all his might not to breathe in these white particles.

However, these particles were not influenced by breath; they fell like snowflakes onto him, then silently melted and seeped into his body...

As the white powder particles continued to erode Mao Feiyang's body, "Yesterday's Lin Yi," leading the team at the front, suddenly frowned, vaguely sensing that something was amiss.

Lin Yi, from God's perspective, was shocked to see...

As Mao Feiyang was penetrated by the white powder particles, from his current point of view, he could see an almost invisible line.

It was as if a local network had been established, with Mao Feiyang becoming a port, slowly dispersing the absorbed white powder particles...

Aside from Wei Liang, Wei Shan, Kuai Hongji, Tian Bufan, and "Yesterday's Self" had all been "allocated" such powder particles.

"This...? Maozi got contaminated by the green-aproned Pocket Chef, and then... it infected the rest of us?!"

"But why didn't Liangzi get infected?"

"What on earth is going on?!"

Lin Yi was baffled; the content within this dream was beyond description. If he had dreamt of what Tian Bufan had experienced, that might have been better since Tian Bufan had once depicted such a scene...

But the subsequent emergence of those indescribable human sculptures and now this godlike retrospective perspective had far exceeded his comprehension.

At this time, "Yesterday's Lin Yi" led the team away from the security guard-led chef team, rushing under the street light pole "Teaching Building-108," and Mao Feiyang was entangled by the green-aproned Pocket Chef...

The dense white mist seeped into Mao Feiyang's limbs and bones unabated, casting an unnatural cyan-gray pallor under his already dark skin, turning his limbs cold and stiff. His pupils began to dilate slowly...

Seeing Mao Feiyang stood unmoving, continuously being polluted, even Lin Yi from God's perspective couldn't help but anxiously shout in his mind: "Maozi! Don't space out, hurry up! Keep up with them!"

Mao Feiyang's scattered pupils suddenly refocused, shining brightly. His head splitting with pain, yet it was as if he had heard Lin Yi's voice. He held his forehead, shook his head, and a hint of confusion flickered in his eyes.

"Maozi, hurry up!" Kuai Hongji's impatient urging sounded coldly from under the street light, breaking Mao Feiyang's reservations.

The green-aproned Pocket Chef seemed to sense something, quickly releasing its hold on Mao Feiyang, and curled into the shadows.

Mao Feiyang broke into a run, catching up with his roommate's pace.

As Mao Feiyang passed by, catching up with the backs of Wei Shan and the others, Kuai Hongji, holding the street light pole "Teaching Building-108" with one hand, slowly turned to look at the green-aproned Pocket Chef that seemed to have hidden within Mao Feiyang's shadow...

His eyes were dark and icy as if they were perpetual glaciers. The corner of his mouth curled with a cruel curve.

He spoke slowly, as if addressing the air, or perhaps speaking directly to the green-aproned Pocket Chef:

"Scram."

The green-aproned Pocket Chef, carrying a lunchbox, fled back into the chef team in a panic...

Lin Yi stared at Kuai Hongji nearly dumbfounded, his mouth agape wide enough to fit Wei Shan's fist.

...

Lin Yi followed "Yesterday's Self" and the others to the Teaching Building, recounting the floors of the building.

The Teaching Building shrouded in the thick fog showed visibly six and a half floors; beyond that, it was utterly unclear.

As he saw the others enter the stairwell, he quickly followed.

He wanted to wander the corridors to see what other parts of the stairwell were like, but soon discovered there seemed to be some restriction to his actions—he couldn't stray from "Yesterday's Self" and the group.

This dreamscape... seemed more like a supplementation of details from the previous night.

Anything he or the others had seen could be perfectly reconstructed, but he was completely unable to glimpse what had not been observed.

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