Travel through time, and then establish an anomaly management bureau!

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“The…Curtain Foundation Administration?” Elion repeated the tongue-twisting and mysterious name unconsciously, his heart still pounding. “This is the ‘my administration’ you mentioned last time? What… exactly is it? A cult? Or… a legendary supernatural organization?”

Mr. K let out a very soft, almost silent chuckle, a chuckle that carried an indescribable mockery.

"Ha, for an ordinary person like you, Mr. Elion, what is the essential difference between a 'cult' and a 'supernatural organization'?"

He countered with a calm yet sharp tone, "In the mouths of the authorities and those true God churches, beings like us are, without exception, malignant tumors that endanger the stability of human society, spread panic and heresy, and are objects that need to be purified or eradicated. The difference may only lie in the methods and scale."

His tone immediately shifted, and his voice became more serious:

“However, I can solemnly assure you that the Curtain Foundation Administration is neither of the above. We are neither worshippers of evil gods nor madmen who abuse power.”

"As for the specific meaning of the name 'Bureau'..." Mr. K shook his head slightly. "I'm sorry, but since you haven't officially joined our bureau yet, we can't disclose the core information to you at this time. You can understand it like this for now: We are an organization whose functions are somewhat similar to certain unknown departments of the Imperial government, or to those churches that believe in a true God, but our ideologies and methods may be completely different. Our primary purpose is to contain, research, and control items, phenomena, and even creatures with anomalous characteristics. Our ultimate goal is to maintain the overall survival and stability of human civilization and prevent the world from heading towards uncontrollable chaos!"

His voice echoed in the quiet study, cold and authoritative, as if he were proclaiming some unquestionable law.

Volume 2: Chapter 15: Warning, River

The atmosphere in the study was tense.

Elion forced himself to calm down and face the uninvited mystery guest.

“Mr. K,” he tried to keep his voice steady, “there must be a reason for your return. What do you want to do with me this time?”

Mr. K's figure seemed motionless in the shadows, yet a chilling sense of scrutiny lingered over Elion. His deep voice broke the silence, like striking ice: "The purpose is simple. Just to give you a warning."

"A warning?" Elion pressed. "A warning about what? About you? Or something else?"

“Let me remind you, you are sleeping on a volcano, Mr. Elion von Silvershine.” Mr. K’s tone was flat, yet carried an unquestionable authority. “And you, you think you are just sitting on warm earth.”

He adjusted his posture slightly, and the shadow of his hat brim seemed to deepen.

"Everything you see and touch in this manor—stone, steel, glass…—is not unusual in itself. What is unusual is not the 'objects,' but the 'space' itself."

"What do you mean?" Elion's breath hitched slightly.

Mr. K continued in his terrifyingly calm voice, “The reality you are in is only half of this manor. It also has a ‘back’ side, a closely fitting yet completely distorted mirror dimension. You can call it the ‘Inner Manor,’ the ‘Shadow Realm,’ or whatever you like. Essentially, it’s two completely different layers of reality superimposed on the same spatial coordinates.”

"The coldness, the deathly silence, the inexplicable feeling of being watched, even the 'momentary breakdown of the rules' you experienced in the restaurant..." Mr. K paused, as if emphasizing the last point, "are not the work of ghosts, nor are they your hallucinations. They are merely faint breaths seeping in from another dimension when the 'membrane' between the two dimensions occasionally thins. Like the noise from the next room, you can't hear it clearly, but you know it exists and makes you uneasy."

Elion opened his mouth, instinctively wanting to refute it, wanting to use reason to condemn this absurd statement.

But his extraordinary intuition—that innate instinct for the distortion of rules—sounded an extremely sharp alarm at this moment!

It wasn't fear, but a shudder that felt almost like confirmation!

Mr. K's words were like a key, instantly unlocking all the pent-up, inexplicable unease in his heart! Those subtle, ubiquitous "abnormalities" had finally come to an end! It wasn't a ghost or an evil object, but rather the rules of the entire world undergoing a terrifying layering and distortion in his home! This far exceeded his worst imagination, yet it perfectly explained everything.

Seeing Elion's bloodless face and his suddenly contracted pupils, Mr. K knew the seed had been planted. He slowly rose to his feet.

"About a week from now, our bureau will be holding a new employee interview session. You are one of the invitees."

His figure began to blur, his edges disappearing as if merging into the air, but his voice remained clear and cold as it reached Elion's ears:

"If you are absent, the invitation will be automatically void. The Curtain Cornerstone Administration will no longer be open to you. Take care, Mr. Elion von Silvershine. Your talent is exceptional, a waste... what a pity."

The moment he finished speaking, his figure vanished completely, as if swallowed up by the shadows in the study.

After Mr. K left, Elion stood frozen like a statue for a full half minute.

Then, he staggered backward and slumped back into the high-backed chair. He braced his elbows against the table, his fists clenched and pressed against his forehead, his knuckles turning white from the force.

The sheer volume of information and the undeniable sense of reality nearly overwhelmed his reason.

The manor is a distorted, layered space... He has always lived in the gap between two worlds...

Fear gripped him, but at the same time, a deeper emotion, almost overwhelmed by fear, struggled—longing!

Becoming a superhuman! This was the only way he could understand and possibly fight against this terror!

As the heir to the Silvershine family, he recently used every means to investigate, only to discover to his despair that his family's understanding of the mysterious world was a meticulously crafted, utterly blank space that had persisted for nearly two hundred years! This was by no means a natural occurrence.

He had just acquired information at a high price from a secret channel yesterday: the true power core of the city, without exception, all had intricate connections with the extraordinary world. Only the Silver Glow family was completely shielded from the outside world by a terrifying force.

Faced with such a massive blockade and a hidden mastermind, he was alone and had no chance of winning.

He needs strength, he needs knowledge, he needs a foothold to break free from this cage.

That mysterious, cold, and powerful Mr. K, who could see through the true nature of the manor at a glance, and the organization behind him...

Curtain Foundation Administration.

This seemed to be his only, and final, choice.

In his heart, he had already made up his mind.

……

The cold and oppressive atmosphere of Silverlight Manor was left far behind.

Zhang Su—still the distinguished "Mr. Li Ying" in the eyes of the reporters—helped the still somewhat unsteady Cotton Lyle out of the shadows of the bushes at the edge of the manor and back to the area where the reporters were waiting in front of the gate.

His appearance immediately caused a commotion.

"Cotton?!"

"My God, what happened to him?"

"Sir, this is...?"

Several familiar reporters immediately surrounded him, bombarding him with questions, their eyes darting back and forth between Zhang Su and the pale-faced, shivering Cotton.

Zhang Su showed just the right amount of concern and helplessness, carefully helped Cotton to sit down on his own folding stool, and then explained to everyone, "I don't know the specifics either. I was just taking a walk along the fence when I heard a noise in the bushes. When I went over to check, I found Mr. Cotton lying there unconscious. It took him a while to get a response, so I quickly helped him back."

His tone was frank and his demeanor upright; he appeared to be a genuinely helpful passerby. At this moment, he absolutely could not show any sign of being in a hurry to leave, otherwise he could easily go from being a "good Samaritan" to the "prime suspect."

Upon hearing this, other reporters rushed forward to check on Cotton. Some handed him a kettle of hot water, while others took out smelling salts and waved them under his nose.

Zhang Su stood to the side, his brows slightly furrowed, playing the role of an equally confused and concerned bystander.

After a long while, Cotton let out a muffled groan, his eyelashes fluttered a few times, and he finally slowly opened his eyes. He looked blankly at his colleagues surrounding him, then at his familiar surroundings, and asked in a hoarse voice, "...How...how did I get here? What happened?"

"You're still asking us?" an older reporter said irritably. "You fainted in those bushes over there, and it was Mr. Li Ying who found you and carried you back! Did you skip breakfast and get low blood sugar again to try and get a story?"

Cotton shook his still somewhat dizzy head, and fragmented memories gradually pieced together—yes, he was tracking this Mr. Li Ying…and then…a chill seemed to sweep across the back of his neck…followed by boundless weakness and darkness…

He suddenly jolted awake, instinctively glancing around before his gaze instantly locked onto "Li Ying," who was standing calmly watching him from the edge of the crowd.

Eyes facing each other.

Cotton felt a chill run from his tailbone straight to the top of his head, even more piercing than the cold he felt when he collapsed earlier! Although he had no idea what had happened, an almost instinctive fear was frantically reminding him: this man in front of him was extremely dangerous! His fainting was definitely related to him!

Seeing that he had regained consciousness and was clearly wary, Zhang Su pushed through the crowd and slowly walked up to him, a faint, enigmatic smile on his face.

“Mr. Cotton, are you alright?” His voice was gentle, but it gave Cotton goosebumps.

Cotton shook his head violently, answering almost reflexively, "N-nothing! Thank you, Mr. Li! It's just... it's just a little cold... I might really have low blood sugar..." He dared not show the slightest doubt, only wanting to get rid of this menacing figure as soon as possible.

"It's good that you're alright." Zhang Su nodded slightly, his smile unchanged, but his words carried a deeper meaning. "Take care of yourself next time, and don't overexert yourself. Some roads are hard to walk; some things shouldn't be seen. To avoid any more 'accidents'. Goodbye."

This statement is both a sign of concern and a blatant warning.

Cotton wasn't stupid; a cold sweat broke out on his back as he listened, and he nodded frantically, "Yes, yes, yes! You're right! Thank you for your concern, Mr. Li! I will definitely pay attention! I will definitely pay attention!"

Zhang Su said no more, turned around, and calmly left along the way he came, leaving Cotton standing there in fear, as well as a group of colleagues who were still wondering how serious "hypoglycemia" could be.

……

Once outside the Silvershine Manor, that terrifying, unusual aura finally vanished completely.

Zhang Su stood by the desolate roadside, looking around at the empty surroundings. Just as he had expected, no public carriage would dare to wait for passengers for long in this "eerie" place.

"Alright, let's treat it as physical training." He twisted his ankle and loosened his joints.

'Yuan Shu, plan the optimal route back to the vicinity of the hotel.'

[The route has been planned. It is recommended to continue south along the current road for approximately 4.7 kilometers before turning onto...]

Upon receiving the command, Zhang Su took a deep breath, and his leg muscles instantly tensed and exerted force!

The next moment, his figure shot out like an arrow released from a bow, with astonishing speed! The withered trees on both sides of the road rushed backward, and the wind he stirred up fluttered the hem of his clothes.

He drove steadily at nearly 25 kilometers per hour, his breathing long and even, demonstrating his enhanced physical abilities.

This level of endurance running is, for him now, nothing more than a slightly more serious "marathon".

However, after running nearly half the distance and entering a relatively familiar suburban area, Zhang Su suddenly felt an unnatural looseness when his right foot landed.

He stopped and looked down, then couldn't help but chuckle – the expensive leather shoes he was wearing had completely ripped and torn at the joint between the right sole and the upper, almost falling apart.

Clearly, these shoes, designed for a gentleman's gait, were completely unable to withstand the extraordinary intensity of his running and the impact on the ground.

"Tsk, I need to get a sturdier pair." He shook his head helplessly, and deliberately made some wear marks on the other shoe as well. Then, wearing a pair of "worn-out shoes," he quickly walked towards the "Iron Palm Shoe Shop" in his memory, following Yuan Shu's directions.

Pushing open the shoe shop door again, the familiar smell of leather and shoe polish wafted out. Behind the counter was still the same gray-haired, sprightly old shop owner.

"Welcome... Oh? Sir, it's you again?" The old shop owner recognized Zhang Su, a "big customer" who had bought shoes not long ago.

Zhang Su subconsciously glanced behind him, trying to see if Karl was there.

"Stop looking, I'm the only one here this time," the shop owner laughed.

Zhang Su smiled and lifted his foot to show off his tattered leather shoes. "Unlucky me, I ran into a bit of an accident on the way, these shoes aren't very durable. Boss, get me another pair of the most durable boots, the best for long walks, the same size as last time."

Upon hearing this, the old shopkeeper immediately greeted him warmly, "Oh dear, what a waste of such fine leather! Don't worry, I definitely have something suitable for you!" He turned and took out a pair of simple-looking but exceptionally well-stitched and sturdy short leather boots from deep within the shelf. "Try these! They're cowhide boots with double soles and cork lining, so you can walk as far as you want without worry! They're just a bit ugly..."

Zhang Su tried them on; they fit perfectly, were comfortable, and offered excellent support. "These are the ones." He paid promptly, threw his worn-out leather shoes into the store's trash can, and put on the new boots.

Feeling grounded, Zhang Su walked out of the shoe shop and headed straight for the nearby public carriage stop.

He flagged down a carriage, opened the door, and got in.

The driver asked lazily, "Sir, where to?"

Zhang Su recited the place name that was widely circulated among the lower classes, yet avoided by respectable people:

"Rusty Ditch. A place near the 'Clean Water River'."

The driver was clearly taken aback. He carefully examined Zhang Su's clothes through the small window of the carriage. After confirming that he hadn't misheard, he muttered the price: "Where to... The road is difficult to travel and there are many people with dirty hands, so I'll have to add 5 pfennigs as a risk fee, making it 1 sora and 20 pfennigs in total."

“Okay, let’s go.” Zhang Su nodded, leaned back in his chair, and closed his eyes.

The carriage slowly started moving, heading towards the slums, the darkest and most 'dirtiest' area in the city of Miguel.

The public carriage stopped at the entrance of an alleyway that reeked of a strong stench and was filthy. The driver refused to go any further.

"Sir, we've reached Rusty Ditch. This is the best we can go! My carriage will get stuck if I go any further in!" The driver's voice was filled with obvious fear, not just because of the road conditions.

Zhang Su paid the fare, and as soon as he got off the carriage, it turned around and sped away as if fleeing for its life, splashing mud everywhere.

Before he could even take a good look at his surroundings, a group of figures emerged from the shadows of the low, dilapidated shacks on either side, like hyenas that had smelled blood.

Most of them were dressed in rags, their clothes greasy and blackened, their original colors almost unrecognizable. Their faces bore the pale complexion of long-term malnutrition, yet their eyes were fixed on Zhang Su—this "fat sheep" who stood out from his surroundings, dressed decently (though he had changed his shoes). A withered hand was stretched out in front of him, and indistinct begging sounds came from his mouth, his voice a mixture of despair, greed, and a hint of numbness.

"Sir, please have mercy..."

"Please give me some money, the child is starving to death..."

"Kind person, please give me a penny..."

Zhang Su had anticipated this.

He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a handful of pre-prepared change, mostly pennies mixed with a few solas. Instead of scattering it haphazardly, he carefully placed a coin in each of the outstretched hands that reached out to him.

However, his actions did not disperse the crowd; instead, they were like throwing more bait into murky water.

More people poured in from deeper alleys and from behind windows covered with oil paper!

Shouts, pleas, and shoving blended into a suffocating wave of sound, surrounding him and making it almost impossible for him to move.

The coins were rapidly dwindling, while the frenzy among the crowd intensified.

Zhang Su frowned slightly, pondering whether to use unconventional methods to escape—

Suddenly, a dirty but incredibly strong hand shot out from the crowd and grabbed his wrist tightly!

Immediately afterwards, a shrill voice rang out: "Someone's being assaulted! Outsiders are assaulting people! Run!!"

The shout was like cold water being poured into boiling oil, instantly igniting chaos! The crowd's begging instantly turned into panicked pushing and shoving, and the scene was completely out of control!

Zhang Su's heart stirred, but he did not resist. He let the hand pull him, and like a nimble fish, he plunged into the chaotic crowd and then quickly turned into a narrower, darker alley.

The owner of that hand clearly knew this place like the back of his hand, dragging him through the maze-like slums at breakneck speed.

Even while being pulled along at high speed, Zhang Su's enhanced dynamic vision allowed him to clearly perceive the tragic scene in this area: