I created the Anomaly Control Bureau

Chapter 909, Section 904: The Invincible Divine Fist
Eastern Federation, Victor Sanatorium.

The cold, white iron table stood like a gate between Marne and the sanatorium, and the nurses with ballpoint pens were like guards of this gate, scrutinizing every little thief trying to sneak in.

She suddenly looked up at the middle-aged man in front of her:

"Mr. Liu, Mr. Wang is ready to see you. Are you sure you don't need us to show you the way?"

Having completely disguised himself as someone else, Ma En smiled and waved his hand:

"No need, I've been here before, and I'd like to have a more private conversation with Mr. Wang."

This wasn't even his first time back here, but unlike before, this time Marn had an unprecedented feeling as soon as he approached Victor's Sanatorium.

Even when the sanatorium was still buried on the distant horizon, Maren had already vaguely sensed something huge and all-encompassing in front of him.

It's like a flawless bubble.

He could clearly sense that he couldn't break it with brute force.

If it weren't for the control bureau's ability to teleport, Ma En would never have returned here.

“Okay, if you don’t know the way, you can always ask a nurse along the way for help. I’ve written the address on this piece of paper.” She smiled, tore off a piece of paper, and handed it to Ma En.

Marne politely accepted it, nodded slightly to her, and then walked past her into the sanatorium.

As soon as he stepped into the corridor of the sanatorium, looking at the pale green walls and the patients and nurses coming and going, Ma En felt a strong sense of familiarity, as if this was the neighborhood where he had lived and grown up since childhood.

Although he didn't remember spending much time here, and it was even possible he had never been to this area before, he still remembered it.

Although this sense of familiarity made Ma En feel comfortable, he did not stop walking or waste any attention on his surroundings. Instead, he went straight to his destination.

Although he had completely changed his appearance, even disguising himself on a psychological level, Maren was still not confident that he could completely deceive the Unmemorable One—if he still wanted to attack him.

He wasn't going to take risks in useless places.

He soon arrived at the address written on the paper.

As an extremely wealthy sanatorium, the meeting place that Maren could book was not a small room, but a recreation room that was usually used for activities.

Marne pushed open the door to the recreation room.

The room had been prepared in advance, with two beautiful and comfortable sofas in the spacious room, and a high-end black wooden table in the middle that looked like it would be found in a villa.

On the sofa directly opposite Marx and Eng, sat the thin old man from the photo, his eyelids slightly drooping, as if he had fallen asleep, and he did not lift his eyelids when Marx and Eng were present.

It seems he was completely unaware of Marne's presence.

ordinary.

A graying hairpin, a face full of wrinkles, withered arms, and a weary expression...

An ordinary old man, as ordinary as can be.

For a moment, Maren even had the illusion that he had entered the wrong room.

"Mr. Wang," he called softly as he stepped into the room.

Wang Sheng tilted his neck back slightly before opening his eyes to look at Ma En.

He looked at Marx and Engels with an apologetic gaze:
"Young man, if we knew each other before, I apologize to you first. The doctor said that I can't remember many things, and I can't remember my old friends either."

His voice was gentle yet firm. “Mr. Wang, you don’t need to feel sorry. We probably don’t know each other before,” Ma En immediately explained politely. “Although we may have met a few times before.”

Wang Sheng nodded slightly, showing no sign of doubt or curiosity:

"So, what do you want with me, old man? Is it about my grandson?"

Marne shook his head and sat down opposite him:
"No, I don't know your grandson."

While speaking, he took the opportunity to observe the old man in front of him again.

Still utterly ordinary.

Marx and Engels paused before speaking frankly:
“Mr. Wang, before coming here, I felt that I had many important things to ask you, but now that I am looking at you, I don’t know what to say.”

While speaking, Ma En was also paying attention to the old man's reaction.

These words seemed to puzzle him somewhat.

But the old man still spoke slowly and kindly.

"It's nothing, young man. You can ask me anything you want. I'll tell you anything I remember. By the way, has my grandson run into any trouble outside?"

Although Maren had already said he didn't know his grandson, the old man still raised the question.

Marx and Engels did not point this out, but nodded in response:
"As far as I know, he shouldn't be in any major trouble. If you'd like, I can help look after your grandson for a bit. I can help him with anything that isn't too serious."

Upon hearing this, the old man sat up in surprise and then reached out to pat Maren's hand:

"Thank you so much. That guy is the one I'm most worried about right now."

Marx and Engels also showed a sincere expression:
"You're welcome, it's all I should do. Mr. Wang, may I ask you a question?"

The old man nodded, his voice trembling slightly.
"Of course, you can ask me anything."

Although he already knew the situation before coming in, Marne still asked:
Do you understand the problems you have?

Wang Sheng smiled and nodded:

"Of course, I just have Alzheimer's. The doctor said I often can't remember things, and I can't recall my past life. I'm also often confused and talk nonsense. Please don't take offense."

"However, I feel pretty good today, so you can take this opportunity to ask me more questions."

Wang Sheng is indeed in relatively good spirits right now, and he specifically chose this date for our meeting.

According to the information obtained by Ma En, Wang Sheng's main problem was indeed a relatively severe case of Alzheimer's disease. However, in addition to this, the doctor also mentioned that he might have some other related symptoms, but these were only mentioned briefly.

After all, the services provided to him by Victor Sanatorium were not treatment, nor were they the recuperation they claimed to offer. Rather, it served more as a nursing home, with the real purpose of allowing him to enjoy his later years in peace.

He was brought in.

"Hmm," Maren said kindly, "Then, sir, do you remember what you used to do?"

The old man's expression showed a hint of difficulty:
"Before, I think I was, I think I was..."

As he spoke, his brows furrowed tightly, as if he were facing some enormous challenge. His already thin body looked stiff, like a withered tree that might break at any moment.

After a moment, he relaxed his brow and revealed an awkward smile:

"I'm sorry, I really can't remember."