Could it be that a miraculous coincidence had occurred in one of the cycles? Perhaps none of the nine of them had heard the {Reverberation}, leading to the simultaneous loss of all their memories.

And if that were the case, it meant the other {participants} they once knew hadn’t triggered their {Reverberation} either. This would explain why, no matter where they went, they so rarely encountered any {familiar faces}.

While such a scenario was possible, it seemed extraordinarily unlikely.

“Infinite monkey theorem,” Qi Xia muttered to himself.

If an infinite number of monkeys were given an infinite amount of time to strike keys at random on a typewriter, one of them would almost surely, at some point, type out the complete works of William Shakespeare, verbatim.

Though the probability was infinitesimally small, it was still conceivable.

At that moment, Qi Xia couldn't help but see the parallel. He felt caught in just such a scenario. If they had cycled through enough times, it was almost certain—by the faintest of chances—that the event of {everyone losing their memories} would occur.

This would leave them with no recollection of the past, making them believe they had only just arrived in this place.

But if that were true... was it not terrifying?

As the {White Tiger} had grimly declared, they were trapped—life after death, death after life... an unending loop. No one could escape.

"Chu Tianqiu, what is the way out?" Qi Xia asked, his voice edged with desperation. "Do the three thousand six hundred {Dào} even mean anything in the end?"

"Qi Xia, I’m glad our conversation has finally reached the crux," Chu Tianqiu said slowly, rising to his feet, his expression equally grim. "What I’m about to tell you is classified information." He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in before continuing, his voice heavy with despair. "Three thousand six hundred {Dào}, no matter how you look at it, is an impossible goal. Even if we gather them through countless cycles, {Judgment’s Domain} still exists in this world. They will do everything in their power to stop us. So, while it looks like we {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} are collecting the {Dào} on the surface, in reality, we are carrying out our own plan."

"Yes," Yun Yao added, her expression just as serious as Chu Tianqiu’s. "We have many enemies."

"So, what exactly is your plan?" Qi Xia pressed. "The people from {Passage to Heaven} keep saying the goal is to {break through all the games}—what does that even mean?"

"Perhaps you’ve already noticed..." Chu Tianqiu murmured, his voice low. "We can reincarnate, but the {Earthly Branches} in the city cannot."

Qi Xia's mind immediately flashed to the lifeless form of Mortal Mouse.

"What does that mean?"

Chu Tianqiu adjusted his glasses, his tone grave. "It means that, given enough time, we can ultimately stake our lives to eliminate all of the {Earthly Branches}."

"What?" Qi Xia froze, realization dawning. "I see... No wonder it’s about {breaking through} all the games, not just {clearing} them."

"Exactly," Chu Tianqiu nodded. "If all the {Earthly Branches} in this city die, the {games} and {Dào} would lose their meaning. The powers that be—the ones pulling the strings from above—would have no choice but to step forward and confront us. That would be our chance to escape."

"So, you’re suggesting..." Qi Xia began, disbelief coloring his tone, though reluctant intrigue glimmered beneath it, "that the ultimate goal of {Passage to Heaven} is to directly confront the {Organizers}?"

The enormity of the plan strained his mind. On the surface, it seemed absurd. Yet, there was conviction in the air—a glimmer of possibility that perhaps, just perhaps, it might work.

"To achieve that goal, we might die many times," Chu Tianqiu continued. "But, as you yourself mentioned with the {infinite monkey theorem}... persistence is the key. If we continue, eventually, we will succeed."

Qi Xia nodded slightly, his perception of {Passage to Heaven} shifting.

"I am still curious about one thing," Qi Xia said. "I’ve participated in two {Terrestrial}-grade games, but I couldn’t find any opportunity to {stake my life}. In a {Terrestrial}-grade game, death lurks at every corner—how do you plan to deal with those {Earthly Branches}?"

Chu Tianqiu and Yun Yao both fell silent.

They seemed to know the answer, but from their expressions, it was clear the words were difficult to utter.

At last, Chu Tianqiu spoke, his voice heavy with regret. "We only {staked one’s life} in a {Terrestrial}-grade game once. After that attempt, it was suspended." He shook his head. "In that game, death was all but certain. For now, we’re not considering staking against {Terrestrial}-grade until we find the right method."

"Absolute certainty?" Qi Xia’s disbelief was palpable. The idea of a game where death was inevitable was almost beyond comprehension. From everything he had seen and endured, the stakes had always been perilous, but there was always at least a sliver of hope.

"Qi Xia, the {Mortal-grade Earthly Branches} number between nine and twelve representatives per animal, while the {Terrestrial-grade Earthly Branches} are far fewer, with only a handful per animal. We have already suffered severe losses fighting the {Mortal-grade} Earthly Branches," Chu Tianqiu said gravely. "We’ve moved from the city center to here, clearing the {Earthly Branches} as we went, but we’ve only managed to eliminate half of the {Mortal-grade} ones. Three months ago, we established ourselves in this school, intending to use it as a base before venturing outward again."

Upon hearing this, Qi Xia’s expression shifted, realization dawning.

He had visited the city center, where {Earthly Branches} were indeed rare—only the native inhabitants remained common.

So, this was the work of {Passage to Heaven}?

Chu Tianqiu noticed the disbelief flicker across Qi Xia’s face and quickly added, "We once had a teammate who risked her life against a {Terrestrial Horse}..."

"What happened afterward?" Qi Xia asked, curiosity sharp in his voice.

"Afterwards..." Chu Tianqiu’s expression darkened, sorrow weighing his words. "She lost. And she never returned."

"Never... returned?" Qi Xia blinked, a chilling thought creeping into his mind. "You mean she..."

"She didn’t revive," Chu Tianqiu murmured. "That one {game} she lost took her from us... forever."

Qi Xia's eyes slowly widened. "You mean... she was truly {eliminated}?"

"Yes," Chu Tianqiu replied quietly. "She came from the same room as I did. After losing to that {Terrestrial}-grade, no matter how many cycles passed, her seat remained forever vacant."

At these words, Qi Xia drew in a sharp breath.

It seemed that joining {Passage to Heaven} had been the right decision after all. Not only had he gained a clearer understanding of this cursed place, but he now also possessed a more defined purpose for the path ahead.

"Could you tell me in detail what happened to her during the game?" Qi Xia asked.

"Of course." Chu Tianqiu nodded, then began to recount the story.

The courageous maiden’s name was Xu Liunian.

She, along with Chu Tianqiu, Yun Yao, and Kim Wonhun, had come from the same starting room.

Their {probation games} were overseen by the Mortal Pig, Mortal Horse, and Mortal Ox.

The overall difficulty hadn’t been too high, but not until the third cycle could they ensure the survival of at most eight people.

By then, the {Reverberatees}—Chu Tianqiu, Yun Yao, and Xu Liunian—had begun to reveal their exceptional talents, guiding the group through increasingly difficult challenges.

Xu Liunian was, at heart, an ordinary girl, yet she nurtured an extraordinary dream—she longed to become an actress.

To chase this ambition, she moved to Hengdian[1] at sixteen, where she would spend years. Due to her unremarkable appearance, she was relegated to the most mundane roles, often cast as a corpse.

Her daily wage was a mere forty yuan, and she would spend eight hours lying still each day. If the crew worked overtime, she earned an additional five yuan per hour.

In those years, Hengdian was far from the bustling hub it is today. Even securing a role as a corpse wasn’t always guaranteed, and Xu Liunian soon found herself grappling with the harsh realities of survival. She only earned a few hundred yuan a month, and even on instant noodles, it was barely enough to cover her rent.

In time, she decided to change her approach. She took up martial arts training online and, on a whim, auditioned for a stunt role. There were few female stunt performers at the time, and whether as a stand-in or part of a crowd scene, the pay was far better.

Xu Liunian managed to earn a modest sum from her stunt work.

She once hoped to follow in the footsteps of many seasoned veterans in the industry, gradually rising from minor roles to leading parts. But life had other plans. During one stunt, a scaffolding struck her lower back with force, leaving her with a severe injury.

The blow nearly damaged her spine, pushing her to the brink of paralysis.

From then on, her body could no longer endure long hours of standing, and her dream of becoming an {actress} was irreparably shattered. Yet, despite everything, she couldn’t bring herself to leave Hengdian. At twenty-four, she used the money she had saved over the years to purchase a taxi and became a driver in the area.