I'm doing engineering in the instance.

Wu Ming stood at the door of Xie Chengzhou's personal space for about three minutes before knocking.

He raised his hand, then lowered it, raised it again, then lowered it again. It wasn't because he was unsure whether to go in, but because he was thinking about how to start the conversation. He went over the question in his mind again and again, tried every possible opening line, and then realized that none of them sounded silli. So he raised his hand and knocked three times.

Xie Chengzhou heard a knock on the door. "Come in," he said.

He had just slept for about four hours. After waking up, he sat at his desk, opened his memo, and prepared to sort out the accumulated issues in the "Pending Verification" section. He heard a knock on the door, but wasn't surprised—he hadn't closed the door before going to sleep, and he knew someone might come.

Wu Ming pushed open the door and came in, holding the notebook in his hand. "May I come in?" he said. "If you're busy—"

"Come in," Xie Chengzhou said. "Sit down."

Wu Ming sat down, placed the notebook on the table, and didn't speak immediately. He opened the notebook, glanced at the words inside, then closed it, then opened it again, then closed it again. Xie Chengzhou glanced at him, but didn't urge him, waiting for him to speak.

"I have a question," Wu Ming said, "not about copies."

Xie Chengzhou put down the memo. "Speak," he said.

Wu Ming pressed down on the cover of the notebook. "Are you scared?" he asked.

Xie Chengzhou did not answer immediately.

He went over the question in his mind, not thinking about how to answer it, but trying to confirm what the question was asking. He had encountered this kind of question many times on the construction site, each time after something had happened, after someone had just come from somewhere, and before that person had put that matter behind them.

"What do you mean?" he said.

“Exactly,” Wu Ming said, “were you scared in the dungeon?” He paused, “I’m not talking about that kind of thing—I know you can handle danger, I’m not asking if you have the ability. I’m asking if you were scared in those situations.”

Xie Chengzhou went over the question in his mind.

He placed his right hand on the table and glanced at the shallow mark on the back of his hand—a scratch he had made while running across the wooden beams from Exit P3. It had scabbed over, wasn't deep, but was still visible in the light.

"Yes," he said.

Wu Ming looked up. "Really?" he said. "You look—"

"What do I look like?" Xie Chengzhou said.

“You don’t look like someone who would be afraid,” Wu Ming said.

Xie Chengzhou thought for a moment, then said, "Fear isn't an expression; it's a signal. I sensed it in the instance, and then I used it as a signal—it tells me what I need to pay attention to, what variables I haven't assessed yet."

"So you turned it into data," Wu Ming said.

"It hasn't become," Xie Chengzhou said, "it exists simultaneously. It's still afraid, and I'm still afraid, but at the same time, I'm using it to do other things."

Wu Ming went over the answer in his mind, then lowered his head and wrote a few lines in his notebook.

Xie Chengzhou waited for him to finish writing, then asked, "Why did you ask that?"

Wu Ming didn't look up immediately. He put the pen cap back on, then looked up. "Because I've been scared the whole time," he said. "I've been scared ever since I came in. My hands have been shaking the whole time, and I know you noticed." He paused. "I thought you would tell me not to be scared, or tell me how not to be scared."

"I won't tell you not to be afraid," Xie Chengzhou said, "because that won't help."

"Then tell me what?" Wu Ming said.

Xie Chengzhou thought for a moment, "Your hands are shaking," he said, "but your notebook isn't stopping."

Wu Ming glanced down at the notebook.

He didn't speak immediately. He opened the notebook, turned to the first page, glanced at the words on the first page, then turned to the last page, glanced at the last few lines, then closed the notebook, placed it on the table, and pressed it down with both hands.

His eyes looked a little off, but he didn't say anything.

"That's enough," Xie Chengzhou said.

Wu Ming went over the sentence in his mind, then nodded. "I have another question," he said, "not about the copy."

"Speak," Xie Chengzhou said.

"Those eight people," Wu Ming said, "are you thinking about them?"

Xie Chengzhou went over the question in his mind but did not answer it immediately.

He ran through those eight names in his mind: Wang Bo, Lin Xiao, Zhang An, Fang Yuan, Hu Jian, Dr. Cao, Old Chen, Liu Feng. Not an abstract number, but eight specific people, eight specific ways of dying, eight processes he had seen, heard, or felt at some point in time.

"I want to," he said, "but not now."

"When?" Wu Ming asked.

"When I have time," Xie Chengzhou said, "when I'm in my personal space, when I've finished organizing the data for the current instance, when I've confirmed the direction for the next instance. Then I'll think about them."

"Isn't it too late to think that way?" Wu Ming said.

"It's not too late," Xie Chengzhou said, "there's an order to it."

Wu Ming went over the answer in his mind, then closed the notebook. "Mr. Xie," he said, "I have something I want to tell you."

"Speak," Xie Chengzhou said.

“This isn’t my first time in a dungeon,” Wu Ming said. “I’ve been in twice before, both times solo, and I cleared both times. But I’ve always been alone and have never met anyone like you.” He paused for a moment. “I mean, I know your clear record. I’ve seen it on the bulletin board in Yuan City. I know your speedrun data. I know who C-0047 is.”

Xie Chengzhou went through the information in his mind, then turned his gaze to Wu Ming and looked at him again.

It wasn't caution, it was a reassessment—he had assumed Wu Ming was a novice entering a dungeon for the first time, a third-year civil engineering student, someone who could still take notes despite his fear. Now he knew another layer: this person knew who he was before entering, and his note-taking wasn't just out of fear, but also because he was observing what C-0047 was doing.

"You'll know who I am when you walk in," he said.

"Yes," Wu Ming said, "I knew when I entered. So I was taking notes on the sidelines, wanting to see what you would do." He looked up. "You don't mind, do you?"

"I don't mind," Xie Chengzhou said. "Your record is useful."

"Then," Wu Ming said, "can I continue to work with you in the next instance?"

Hsieh Cheng-chou went over the question in his mind. "The group experience," he said, "is not something I decide; it's assigned by the constitution."

"I know," Wu Ming said, "but if we're assigned together, can I continue to be your recorder?"

"Sure," Xie Chengzhou said, "but being a recorder isn't a safe position; you need to assess the risks yourself."

"I know," Wu Ming said, then he stood up, put the notebook in his pocket, "I have one more thing," he said, "Wang Bo."

Xie Chengzhou remained silent, waiting for him to continue.

“He’s someone I know,” Wu Ming said. “We’re not very close, but we talked in Yuan City. He told me he was a programmer and that he was useless in the dungeon. He asked me if there was anything he could do.”

He paused for a moment.

"I told him I could help record the data."

Xie Chengzhou ran through Wang Bo's image in his mind. It wasn't a mourning, but the kind of process of solidifying a person's image in one's memory—he remembered Wang Bo's first step onto the pier, the sound of that step landing, the speed at which the buzzing engine leaped forward at that moment. He hadn't had time to call out to him at that moment.

He knew it wasn't his mistake. He also knew that this wouldn't make the voice disappear.

"He didn't have a chance," Xie Chengzhou said.

"Yes," Wu Ming said, "he didn't have a chance."

He walked towards the door, paused at the door, and without turning back, said, "Thank you, Mr. Xie."

"What are you thanking me for?" Xie Chengzhou said.

"Thank you for saying 'That's enough,'" Wu Ming said, and then he left.

---

Xie Chengzhou sat at the table for a while, going over Wu Ming's words in his mind.

"That's enough," he said without much thought, following the logic he'd seen on construction sites—if your hands are shaking but you're still working, keep going until your hands stop shaking. He'd said similar things to many people: new workers, people going up to an aerial work platform for the first time, technicians who didn't know what to do after finding cracks in the foundation.

He didn't expect Wu Ming to thank him.

He opened the memo and wrote a line on the last page:

"Wu Ming, C-0091. Third time experiencing the realm. Two solo experiences, both completed. Met Wang Bo in Yuan City. His recording ability is a real asset, not accidental. He knew C-0047's identity upon entering—meaning he was choosing his observation subjects, not just randomly following them."

He paused after this line, then added a parenthesis: "(To be verified: What is his purpose?)"

Then he flipped to the "Pending Verification" section of the memo and added a note at the end:

"Designer's Symbol - Part Three. Three copies, three markings, all within the same system. Who is the designer? Why leave these markings in the history books? What do these markings point to?"

He added a parenthesis after this: "(This is not a coincidence.)"

He then closed the memo and focused his gaze on the metal container on the table—the target object #003, placed there alongside his memo.

He picked up the container, turned it over, and looked at the designer symbols on the surface.

Three copies, three symbols, but the same system.

He'd seen many things on the construction site, many things that shouldn't have been there, many things that remained unexplained. An engineer's habit is: something unexplained doesn't mean it lacks logic; it just means the logic hasn't been found yet.

He put the container down.

He will find it.