Chapter 187 – The Ritual Dream

In a room not far from the holding cell, Song Cheng unconsciously held his breath as he watched the images displayed on the screen, along with the numerous readings and filtered layer-by-layer analysis footage shown on several other monitors beside it.

Baili Qing sat nearby, watching those images with a calm expression.

“Bureau Chief, did you see that clearly just now?” Song Cheng glanced back slightly at the expressionless Baili Qing. “When that puppet struck just now…”

“I saw it,” Baili Qing said flatly. “Some kind of ‘threads’ of unknown nature, possessing physical volume, capable of affecting both body and mind simultaneously, but… different from the threads I recall Alice’s puppets using.”

Song Cheng nodded gravely, turning his gaze back to the surveillance footage before him.

When Yu Sheng had been “reasoning” with the cultist, he hadn’t found it surprising. When Yu Sheng and Hu Li had healed the cultist three consecutive times only to “critique” him three more times, neither he nor Baili Qing had reacted much either—after all, one was an action squad captain and the other the Bureau Chief of the Special Operations Bureau, both people accustomed to bloody storms. Though bound by numerous duties and regulations, using lethal force against cultists was hardly uncommon. Yu Sheng’s “interrogation” method of only beating without questioning was admittedly unconventional, but not unacceptable to them.

But after Eileen had acted, things became somewhat different.

“The equipment just recorded a series of unusual energy spikes,” said a middle-aged man in a technician’s uniform sitting nearby, monitoring the data changes recorded by the instruments as he spoke. “The waveforms are very strange—their characteristics don’t match any type of ‘power’ in our records, including the blessings bestowed by the Ancient Holy Spirits, or the spells mastered by those ‘cultivators.'”

As the technician spoke, he switched the waveform diagram to the screen in front of Song Cheng and Baili Qing. They saw a series of violently oscillating curves appear on the coordinate graph, many portions of which exceeded the axis limits entirely. A set of three-dimensional figures appeared beside the axes as well, their complex, shifting surfaces dizzying to behold.

“…Many of the characteristic points even exceed the instrument’s detection range,” Baili Qing’s brow gradually furrowed. Her peripheral vision swept across the puppet “Eileen” on the main surveillance feed, her expression growing somewhat grave as she continued, “Does it lean toward being a physical entity?”

“It doesn’t resemble a physical entity. Physical entities have relatively simple energy signatures—nothing this complex, and they wouldn’t produce this kind of off-the-charts reading.”

A rare flicker of hesitation crossed Baili Qing’s face. She spoke in a low voice: “…What about a Twilight Angel?”

A look of shock—even horror—instantly appeared on the technician’s face, but upon seeing the Bureau Chief’s serious and composed expression, he swallowed hard, asked no further questions, and answered honestly: “No, it doesn’t match either—at least nothing in the existing database corresponds. And speaking beyond pure technical analysis—if a Twilight Angel’s power had truly entered the real world, then at this very moment, there would be hardly anyone left alive on this entire floor.”

Baili Qing said nothing, only watching the three figures on the surveillance feed with a grave gaze.

First there was “Yu Sheng,” who believed himself to be human. Then Hu Li, who very likely came from “beyond the world.” And now the puppet “Eileen,” who exceeded the system’s understanding entirely… The Lodge truly had not a single normal member.

“Continue recording,” Baili Qing said after a moment, letting out a soft breath. “And classify everything recorded today as confidential.”

…

Yu Sheng followed that perspective, slowly walking forward through the empty, abandoned warehouse.

Following the precautions Eileen had given him, he minimized his presence as much as possible, avoiding looking at irrelevant corners, resisting any urge to control the “body” he currently inhabited.

The bald Angel Cult member was “dreaming,” walking through a scene Eileen had woven for him—one conducive to recollection. He had temporarily forgotten his capture, but if he sensed another consciousness hidden within his mind, he would likely awaken instantly.

Within his limited field of vision, Yu Sheng carefully examined the surroundings and listened to the ambient sounds.

He could hear car horns, but very faintly and far away—this place seemed to be some distance from any bustling urban area. He could see numerous stacked cylindrical containers in his field of view, pipes hanging down from steel frameworks overhead, and hazard markings on some of the metal tanks, worn away or covered in grime… A chemical storage warehouse?

There were no lights, but sunlight streamed in through several high windows. It was probably early morning or late evening. Some corners of the warehouse appeared exceptionally dark, though whether that was how they actually looked or whether the cultist’s memory had “blocked” those portions of the recalled scene was impossible to tell…

Additional footsteps came from nearby, instantly drawing Yu Sheng’s attention.

He watched as the perspective he was “parasitizing” looked cautiously left and right, then seemed to spot a coded mark on the surface of a metal tank. The perspective’s owner appeared to relax slightly, then circled around the massive metal tank and entered a hidden room through a passage at the far end of the warehouse. Inside, a dim electric lamp was lit, and strangely shaped candles burned on the floor. Several figures stood around the candles, apparently having been waiting for some time.

Several figures?

…So there really were more than just two Angel Cult members hiding in Boundary City, worshipping some mysterious Twilight Angel!

Yu Sheng’s heart stirred, and he instinctively looked toward those figures, trying to make out their faces.

But the very next second, he realized that every single one of their faces seemed shrouded in a layer of black mist. Even their entire bodies were obscured by a vague, distorted haze that no amount of effort could penetrate. A faint sense of rejection suddenly washed over him, and Yu Sheng’s heart clenched. He quickly stopped the kind of “staring” that could easily expose his presence.

The faces and forms of the other members were all hidden… Had they used some method in the real world to conceal themselves, preventing exposure of others if any one member were captured? Or was it some kind of “protective mechanism” rooted in the subconscious, causing this captured cultist to automatically “censor” his accomplices even in his most unguarded dreams?

Yu Sheng pondered this without betraying any reaction, continuing to minimize his presence while observing what these mysterious figures would do next.

“You’re late.”

One of the blurry dark figures seemed to turn its head, looking at the tardy member.

“Dealing with that Curiosities Association member took a bit longer than expected. I had to be careful to avoid arousing his suspicion,” the perspective Yu Sheng was inhabiting replied. “He’s only recently come into contact with the Lord’s guidance. He’s not yet devout or resolute enough—still in a state of wariness toward us.”

Yu Sheng instantly focused his attention: they were discussing Old Zheng!

“Hmm… Is progress going smoothly?” Another figure spoke up.

“Everything is going smoothly. The target has spent years searching for a way to counter ‘Fairy Tales.’ His desire for this path surpasses everything else. Despite his remaining doubts, I believe he has recently been attempting the Séance technique I left him—the Lord’s power has already taken root in his mind. ‘Conversion’ is only a matter of time.”

“…Then, do we really want to accept such a ‘convert’?” Yet another person spoke from the corner. “He’s not a suitable vessel—he merely happens to meet our current needs. If he truly converts into a devout believer, combined with his connections to ‘Fairy Tales,’ it could actually interfere with the Lord’s descent…”

“Once the matter is concluded, dispose of him,” said the one who had first spoken, his tone indifferent. “Being able to provide some assistance for the Lord’s descent is already an immense honor for him. To die while still in a state of innocence is the Lord’s mercy toward him—and besides, someone with status in a major organization will cause enormous trouble once exposed. He cannot be kept for long.”

The other figures immediately nodded in agreement, expressing their approval.

And so the matter was settled.

Then, Yu Sheng suddenly felt the scene before him lurch and shift—the dream’s environment changed again.

It was still the same management room in the old warehouse, but the dark figures swaying around him had shifted positions at some point, as if arranged in specific cardinal positions around the candles. One figure stepped forward and added some kind of incense to the candle flames. Then the figures bent down, working in concert to smear blood upon the floor.

They chanted obscure, barely utterable incantations, praying with fervent reverence. The candle flames flickered, gradually synchronizing their wavering to a unified frequency as the prayers continued. The incense released eerie colors within the firelight, and smoke rose upward, coiling around the dark figures like some solidified curtain. They drank a suspicious liquid, then began chanting in unison—

“We pray to You, may You break free soon;

“We pray to You, may You awaken soon;

“We pray to You, may You descend soon;

“We chant Your name, so that You may find the path to awakening within this chanting. We chant Your name, just as You heard it when You set forth upon that boundless, immeasurable road—

“An-Ka-Ai-La—Mother and Cradle, Hope and Future!

“Protector! Comforter! First and Final Caretaker! Chanter! Soother! Nurturer of Infants and Children!

“An-Ka-Ai-La!

“You and those You shelter shall break free from that shell at last—the Kingdom prepared for Your descent is about to open…”

The cultists prayed, chanting in perfect unison as if controlled by a single mind, repeating a word with a bizarre pronunciation over and over. And as this grotesque and unsettling ritual continued, Yu Sheng watched as a gap silently split open in the ceiling above. A hideous, repulsive tentacle emerged from that opening, emitting a noise that threatened to split his skull and a hissing, scraping friction sound.

The cultists instantly fell into a state of ecstasy. Even though their faces were unreadable, their joy seemed to solidify into something physical, filling the entire ritual space.

Yet just as that tentacle was about to touch the cultists, about to bestow a new “blessing”—the burning candles on the floor suddenly began to crackle and pop. It seemed that too many impurities had caused them to sputter. The flames that had been trembling in perfect synchrony lost control, and the curtain that had formed from the rising, condensing smoke—symbolizing some kind of “boundary”—tore apart and dissipated in an instant.

The tentacle let out a piercing shriek and vanished into thin air in the blink of an eye.

(End of Chapter)