Escape Filming Location - Chapter 2 - Starting with a Codename

Qian Cang Yi breathed a sigh of relief, mocking himself:

“Good thing it was just a hallucination…”

Given the current circumstances, he’d rather have a mental issue than to actually see those words.

If the words were real, it could mean he was encountering ghosts.

Although Qian Cang Yi wasn’t a staunch atheist, the idea of ghosts… he had never considered that he might actually encounter one.

“Maybe it’s due to staying up too late? It seems I really do need some good rest.”

Qian Cang Yi was not sure, and the words on his sclera still worried him.

“3 p.m. If it doesn’t specify which day, it’s probably today.”

“What will happen at 3 p.m. today?”

He sincerely hoped nothing would occur.

…

On the pristine white walls, as the clock’s second hand jumped past the number 12, it struck 3 p.m., and the long wait finally came to an end.

Qian Cang Yi held his breath, his heart involuntarily started to race.

Everything in the room was normal; no bloody words appeared on the walls, nor any other strange occurrences.

A smile gradually emerged on Qian Cang Yi’s tense face:

“I should really rest well in the coming days. Staying up late is indeed a big no-no.”

Just as he was about to stand up, he suddenly froze in place, his body uncontrollable.

What… what’s happening?

Qian Cang Yi wanted to call for help, but now he couldn’t even open his mouth.

In that moment, Qian Cang Yi’s heart seemed to jump to his throat, and he recalled the words on his eyeball, suddenly realizing that everything before was an illusion.

His body, uncontrolled, walked towards the door.

Although Qian Cang Yi indeed wanted to go out, the entire process was against his will; his body was being controlled by a mysterious force.

His uncontrolled body descended the stairs as usual, attracting no attention, and after exiting the apartment building, he turned left and continued forward.

Can you hear me? Can you hear me?

Qian Cang Yi attempted to ask passersby for help, but still, he couldn’t make any sound; despair enveloped him like a thick fog.

He felt like a puppet on strings, every move controlled by someone else.

It wasn’t until he reached a nearby bus stop that he finally stopped walking.

Someone… please help me?

Qian Cang Yi called for help internally, but it was still ineffective.

The sky was overcast, and at the bus stop, only Qian Cang Yi stood alone.

Half a minute later, a pitch-black bus slowly rounded the corner and approached.

The bus was oddly shaped, with only one door and no windows or front windshield, resembling a moving coffin from any angle.

No matter how he thought about it, there was no way a human was driving that bus.

Intense fear made it difficult for Qian Cang Yi to breathe; he wanted to run, to scream, but it was futile, his body still not under his own control.

The black bus accurately stopped in front of Qian Cang Yi, and the door opened.

Looking through the door, the inside was filled with thick black fog, obscuring everything.

Qian Cang Yi walked towards the front door of the black bus, and a few seconds later, he stepped onto the bus.

Throughout this process, no matter how much he commanded his body, his commands fell on deaf ears, lost without a trace.

The moment the door gently closed, control of his body returned to Qian Cang Yi.

Qian Cang Yi took a deep breath, breathing heavily, and looked towards the driver’s seat.

The driver, wearing a black hood, was shrouded in black fog, his features indiscernible.

Just as Qian Cang Yi was about to speak, asking the driver to stop, a calm male voice interrupted him.

“Stop yelling, it’s useless.”

Qian Cang Yi turned towards the source of the voice-the bus cabin.

A round fluorescent light illuminated the cabin, where there were supposed to be seats, two black sofas faced each other, with a black rectangular coffee table in between.

The man sitting on the sofa to the left, wearing a black trench coat with short hair, was the source of the voice.

“What did you just say?” Qian Cang Yi had heard him clearly but wanted to confirm again.

The man on the sofa turned his head, his features rugged, and his gaze as sharp as a hawk’s.

Seeing Qian Cang Yi’s disbelief, he continued from where he left off:

“From the moment you were chosen, you lost the right to refuse.”

“I’m not your narrator; I don’t know why this is happening. Whether you believe or not is up to you.”

Qian Cang Yi didn’t respond immediately; instead of dwelling on whether to believe or not, he decided to try for himself.

It’s better to rely on oneself than on others.

Qian Cang Yi turned to look at the mysterious driver, his right hand reaching out. As his hand approached the black fog, the flesh on his fingertips began to disintegrate, leaving only bone, yet without any pain.

This!

This horrifying scene scared Qian Cang Yi into quickly retracting his hand, which returned to normal soon after.

Now, he had no choice but to believe.

Qian Cang Yi stepped up and sat on the sofa on the right, his gaze sweeping over the black coffee table, looking for any clues.

The edge of the table had intricate bright red diamond patterns, but beyond that, there were no significant markings to identify the manufacturer or place of origin.

Next, his gaze swept over the sofa, which, like before, bore no distinctive features or patterns.

Even now, deep inside, Qian Cang Yi still harbored a sliver of hope.

That all of this was just a prank.

Qian Cang Yi sighed lightly and looked up at the man in the trench coat, asking:

“What should I call you?”

As he inquired, he also sized up the man in the trench coat.

The man had short hair, and his black trench coat was clean, though the cuffs were slightly worn. He wore black trousers and black boots, his aloof demeanor combined with his black attire giving off an unapproachable vibe.

Likewise, the man was also observing Qian Cang Yi.

The man in the trench coat met Qian Cang Yi’s eyes and answered:

“You can call me ‘Hawkeye’; that’s the codename I’ve chosen for myself.”

“I suggest you also pick a codename for yourself; it makes communication easier.”

Qian Cang Yi looked down at the coffee table for a moment, and although he didn’t know the exact reason, using codenames for communication seemed better than using real names.

Several usernames flashed through his mind, and after a moment, he confirmed his own codename and responded:

“Call me ‘Cangyi.'”

Hawkeye nodded, leaning forward slightly, and said:

“Cangyi, you must be curious why we use codenames.”

“This is something the other Actors told me; I don’t know the exact reason.”

“Anyway, we just do as those before us did; it’s kind of an unwritten rule.”

Qian Cang Yi nodded, not replying as he waited for Hawkeye to speak.

Hawkeye had resolved some of his confusion and might tell him more.

Ranting on the first meeting would only annoy anyone.

In other words, there’s a limit to how many questions one can ask.

Given the current situation didn’t seem dangerous, it was better to let the other person clarify the critical issues first, gaining some initial understanding before asking further questions.