After sending the message, Brian Carter opened the bridge software. Unexpectedly, Victor happened to be online this time and quickly replied.

　　[Victor: Want to play a round? I happen to have some time.]

　　[磨糖: Sure [smile]]

　　Brian Carter invited Victor into the room, and the game started soon after.

　　Brian Carter had been playing bridge for five years. Back in his freshman year, a roommate was obsessed with bridge, claiming it was a game that really tested intelligence and had a certain flair, and dragged Brian Carter into it. But within a month, that roommate got hooked on something else, while Brian Carter quietly kept playing bridge—for five years straight.

　　Midway through the game, Brian Carter spotted a chance for a game contract. His eyes flashed, but before he could play his card, Victor suddenly played a club King. Brian Carter was taken aback. With that card, Victor killed his chance at the contract.

　　Did Victor make a mistake?

　　Bridge is a 2v2 game. Brian Carter had met Victor online a year ago, and the two had great chemistry; Victor's skills were at least as good as Brian Carter's. But for the past six months, Victor had been very busy, and in the last two months hadn't played at all, so it was possible he was a bit rusty.

　　Brian Carter glanced again at the number of tricks on both sides and suddenly realized: "Does he want a grand slam?"

　　A faint smile tugged at his lips, and Brian Carter calmly played a card.

　　Half an hour later, the game ended, and Brian Carter opened QQ.

　　[磨糖: GJ, still as good as ever.]

　　[Victor: GJ.]

　　[磨糖: [smile]]

　　There was no reply from Victor for a long time. Brian Carter guessed he was busy again and didn't say anything more, starting a solo bridge game. When he finished and came back, he saw a message from Victor: [I remember you once said there's a black tower right next to where you work?]

　　[磨糖: Yeah, about two hundred meters away. Why?]

　　[Victor: Try to avoid going there lately, there might be some issues.]

　　Seeing this, Brian Carter suddenly remembered the fortune-teller this morning, pointing at the black tower with a crazed look, swearing "the god is coming." Victor and the fortune-teller...

　　Brian Carter couldn't help but laugh out loud. He laughed for a while before holding back and sending a message: [Didn't expect you to be a "black tower danger theorist" too? But I work nearby, so it's hard to avoid.]

　　Victor didn't insist, just chatted a bit more, then suddenly said he had something to do, and they said goodbye and logged off.

　　The next day at work, the fortune-teller didn't show up. Director Smith was very surprised and pulled Brian Carter aside, saying, "That fortune-teller actually didn't come today? He clocks in more diligently than I do. If he didn't show up, something must have happened, right?"

　　Brian Carter: "Maybe something came up at home."

　　Director Smith waved his hand. "Ah, who cares about him. It's better if he doesn't come, otherwise someone has to keep an eye on him. Little Brian, Little Scott, you two will have to work a bit harder today. Find some time to organize the G-category books."

　　Sorting books is a daily task for librarians; this job isn't as leisurely as outsiders imagine. Little Scott had a blind date that evening. The young woman looked at Brian Carter with pleading eyes. Brian Carter said, "You go ahead, I'll handle it myself."

　　Little Scott gratefully said, "Thanks, Brian Carter. Next time I'll cover your overtime."

　　Brian Carter nodded lightly and said nothing more.

　　After working overtime until ten at night, Brian Carter left the library and caught the last bus.

　　There were very few people on the last bus—besides the driver, only Brian Carter and a middle-aged man. The man was snoring away in his seat. Brian Carter's phone was dead, so he propped his chin on his hand, staring out the window in boredom.

　　Most malls in the city center were already closed by this time. November nights were bitterly cold, the streets nearly empty, and the moonlight cast a cold, clear glow. Brian Carter watched the neon signs flickering with colorful lights. The bus turned a corner, and the massive black tower suddenly came into view.

　　After seeing it for half a year, Brian Carter, like many others, had lost all interest in the tower and just looked at it calmly.

　　Suddenly, he saw a small bug—or maybe a bird, it was too far to tell. In the moonlight, the little dark thing fluttered through the air toward the shadowy giant tower. Brian Carter watched absentmindedly as the creature flew up to the black tower, foolishly kept going, and crashed headlong into it.

　　Then, as if it hit something, it suddenly plummeted to the ground.

　　Brian Carter just watched as the bus turned another corner and the black tower disappeared behind him.

　　The next stop was announced over the bus speakers. Brian Carter leaned his left hand against the window, idly wondering what to eat tonight. Suddenly, his eyes widened, and he quickly turned his head, pressing himself against the window to try to catch another glimpse of the black tower. But the bus had already gone too far; with the black tower behind the bus, it was impossible to see it anymore.

　　Brian Carter's heart was pounding, thumping so hard it felt like it would leap out of his throat. After a long while, he calmed himself down.

　　"...I must have seen it wrong, right? The black tower is just an optical illusion caused by light pollution, it doesn't have a physical form."

　　That's the mainstream view in society right now. Many people don't believe it, but at least the black tower really has no physical substance—you can see it, but you can't touch it.