I will burn books and slay gods.

The road surface of the ramp began to twist and writhe like melted gummy candy.

The guardrails transformed into soft, swaying tentacles.

The sky became a mirror, reflecting the repeated images of countless nights and countless cars.

The region is fighting back.

It reinforces the concept of "cycle" and wants to make Chen Ye a part of it as well.

Chen Ye felt the karma monitoring device start to heat up.

The cognitive model in my mind is under pressure, and the eight anchor symbols are swaying.

It gritted its teeth and thought quickly.

Fighting the "cycle"... What's more powerful than the cycle?

Linear progression?

No, linear loops can also be included in loops.

Uniqueness?

Mog's unrepeatable nodes...

He had an idea.

Chen Ye took out a psychology reference book from his pocket and quickly flipped to the chapter on "memory solidification".

It mentions that the strongest human memories are often tied to intense "first-time" experiences—the first time winning an award, the first time feeling moved, the first time losing something.

The first time is non-repeatable.

Because time is irreversible, experiences cannot be completely replicated.

Every "first time" is a unique coordinate in space and time.

Chen Ye pressed the book to his chest, extracting the concept of "the first time".

It's not an abstract definition, but a concrete and vivid example—the shock he felt when he first read Kant, the vigilance he felt when he first saw Lin Su's flames, and the sense of accomplishment he felt when he first rescued the citizens.

These memories are strongly personal, carrying with them time, place, and emotion.

They are the only nodes anchored in an individual's history.

He scattered these fragments of "first time" memories throughout the entire ramp area like seeds.

Instantly, the area began to "lag".

Cracks appeared in those repeated mirror images, because Chen Ye in each mirror image began to be subtly different—in this mirror image he was contemplating philosophy, in that mirror image he was watching the flames, and in another mirror image he was smiling.

They are no longer perfect copies; they have differences.

The cycle almost broke.

The road surface stopped crawling, the tentacle-like guardrails froze, and the mirror-like sky shattered.

Chen Ye seized the opportunity and rushed towards the second car.

This time it was a young couple; the girl was crying, and the boy was pounding on the steering wheel in frustration.

"Where did you have your first date?" Chen Ye asked directly.

Both of them were stunned for a moment.

The girl instinctively replied, "The viewing platform by the river... there were fireworks that day..."

Chen Ye immediately reinforced this concept: "Now, imagine you're driving there, watching the fireworks again."

He used his ability to package the "observation deck," "fireworks," and "date souvenir" into a cognitive package and instill it into the consciousness of the two of them.

Their eyes immediately lit up, and the vehicle turned and rushed out of the loop without hesitation.

One after another.

Using the same method, Chen Ye found a "unique, non-repeatable moment" in the lives of each trapped person—their mother's signature dish, the first time their child called them "Dad," the sunshine on graduation day, or the afternoon of their successful startup.

Each node is like a nail, driven into the straight line of time, pulling the trapped person out of the cycle.

By the fifteenth car, Chen Ye felt he had reached his limit.

His soul fire was burning fiercely, and the karmic fog was so thick that the flames were almost invisible.

Cracks appeared in the cognitive model in my mind, and two of the eight anchor symbols began to dim—that was the backlash from overusing conceptual abilities.

But he can't stop. There are still two cars left.

The sixteenth car belonged to an old man.

Chen Ye knocked on the window, and the old man looked at him blankly, "I...where am I supposed to go?"

"Are you going to see someone important?"

Chen Ye asked, his voice already somewhat hoarse.

The old man thought for a long time, then slowly shook his head: "There's no one here... My wife is gone, my children are in another city... I just... drive around..."

There was no strong "first time," no important agreement. What to do?

Looking into the old man's empty eyes, Chen Ye suddenly understood.

Some people live not because there is someone they want to meet ahead, but because there is a place they came from behind.

"Then where are you from?" Chen Ye asked in a different way.

"From...the old house. We lived there for forty years, and it was demolished last month."

A glimmer of light appeared in the old man's eyes. "I want to go back and take a look... even though it's just an empty lot now."

enough.

Chen Ye packaged the concepts of "old house," "forty years," and "home" and infused them into the consciousness of the elderly.

The old man nodded, and the vehicle slowly drove away.

The last one.

It was an empty taxi.

The driver fell asleep in the car—no, not asleep, but his consciousness had fallen into a deep, cyclical numbness.

Chen Ye opened the car door and shook the driver: "Sir! Where are you going to pick up your passengers?"

The driver mumbled, "The airport... I picked up one last fare... and then I stopped driving..."

"Who is the guest?"

"I don't know... The reservation slip just says 'someone rushing to catch a flight'..."

No specific information is available.

Chen Ye frowned, but then realized: the taxi driver's "destination" was not his own, but the passenger's.

What is his "non-cyclic node"?

It is a promise.

"You promised to pick him up," Chen Ye said. "If you promised, you have to keep your word. It's your job, and it's your promise."

He infused concepts such as "commitment," "responsibility," and "professional ethics" into his work.

The driver's eyes regained their sharpness—the look of a seasoned driver.

"Yes, we can't let the guests miss their flights!"

He started the car and drove off smoothly.

All vehicles were removed from the loop.

Chen Ye stood on the empty ramp, panting heavily.

The field began to collapse, peeling away piece by piece like a faded oil painting.

The elevated highway reappeared, with the morning sun shining on the concrete road surface.

He succeeded. Alone.

But just as he was about to leave, a line of glowing words suddenly appeared on the ground beneath his feet.

It is not Chinese characters, nor any known script, but a distorted pattern that resembles both a circuit diagram and runes.

The pattern flashed with images of the Three Gorges, then formed a sentence he could understand:

"Test data record: Individual cognitive anchoring method, efficiency assessment: good. Looking forward to the performance in the official show. —Short circuit"

Chen Ye stared at the line of words, a chill running down his spine.

This Nightmare Time was a test that was being observed from the very beginning.

His entire combat process was recorded and analyzed by that mysterious "short circuit".

The writing quickly faded away.

Chen Ye stood there, looking at the ramp that had returned to normal, and at the people who had just regained their senses and were at a loss, stopped in the emergency lane.

He took out his communicator and reported to the ruler instructor: "Mission accomplished. But..."

"But what?"

"The cult is watching us," Chen Ye said. "We're testing them, and they're testing us too."

There was a few seconds of silence on the other end of the communicator.

"Come back first," Instructor Guichi said. "Lin Su and Wang Xiaoming have finished their tasks. We need to have a meeting."

Chen Ye hung up the call and took one last look at the ramp.

The sun is shining brightly, and the city is beginning to awaken. But more and more eyes are appearing in the shadows.

He turned and walked towards his car.

He passed the trial, but he didn't feel relieved; instead, he felt an even greater weight pressing down on his shoulders.

This is just the beginning.