Sendoff Ch37

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/


Chapter 37: Homologous

When the tree roots attacked, Yin Ci was actually able to avoid them.

However, Yin Deng couldn’t. The little girl was still unconscious on the withered lout leaf and was particularly eye-catching with her red dress. The Goddess wanted to choose someone to kill as a warning to others, but it didn’t matter much who she killed.

And he wasn’t so easily killed. Even if he was burned down to a fragment of bone, Yin Ci could still return from the remnants. He had sought death enough times to accumulate a certain cold intuition.

The shallow pond wasn’t deep enough to kill him or trap him. It was better to go along with it and incidentally provoke that fox.

The tree roots pierced through Yin Ci’s chest, pinning him to the bottom of the pool. The liquid was different from the lake in the Ghost Tomb; it was sticky to the touch, but it didn’t corrode his body.

However, it still brought pain.

As soon as he was soaked in that liquid, he came into contact with living flesh pulp and became stuck to it. The process was far more painful than Yin Ci had imagined, as if his whole body was being twisted into minced meat.

Not only did the pain surge, but intrusive thoughts invaded as well.

These thoughts were scattered, more akin to animal instincts than human emotions. Interestingly, Yin Ci was familiar with this state—when people experienced unbearable suffering, their thoughts often shattered, leaving only some instincts.

The white-clothed monsters emerged from the flesh pulp, so it was no wonder they showed no reaction to pain.

However, amidst the chaotic wailing, there was a hint of clarity. Through the connected living flesh, some images flooded into Yin Ci’s mind.

Through countless eyes, “he” saw Bai Wei falling down.

The Goddess didn’t take the honest and weak Bai Wei seriously; she brought him down to the bottom and threw him from a higher place. It ensured he wouldn’t die from the fall and rendered him immobile. Her approach was similar to Yin Ci’s guess—people from Xizhuang were thrown to the outskirts and molded into draft models. The people from Yuanxian Village were more precious; they were put into stone lotus pods, waiting to be sculpted into the true idol.

Fortunately, Bai Wei was resourceful. Before falling into the water, he threw out a climbing tool that hooked onto the withered lotus leaf. His body plunged into the water but stopped just before sinking into the flesh pulp, barely preserving his bodily integrity.

The Goddess headed straight for the central stone platform and picked up the jade scraping tool, meticulously carving the flesh idol.

An hour later, the Goddess left. Bai Wei didn’t immediately escape; he stumbled and climbed up to the middle of the stone platform, staring blankly at the flesh idol for a long time, shedding tears for a while.

…Well, after Bai Wei fell and touched the flesh pulp, experiencing those emotions, he probably could guess a thing or two.

In the end, Bai Wei didn’t leave.

He chose a draft model closest to the idol and slowly embraced it. The draft model slowly engulfed him, swelling up, and the expression of sorrow on his face contorted.

[She’s still alive. She can’t leave. I can’t just leave her alone…]

It was only when this train of thought reached him that Yin Ci completely snapped out of it.

The current situation was troublesome. Half of his body was immersed in the flesh pulp, and while his clothes weren’t corroded, his ghostskin robe, being similar in composition to human skin, had long since been torn to pieces. With more fusion, the surging thoughts became somewhat clearer. Bai Wei in the flesh pulp undoubtedly sensed him, but he was still dazed and unaware of Yin Ci’s specific condition.

[These living flesh are interconnected. Despite being in this state, I can still convey some thoughts… Are you still there? If we cut off the fused parts, you can escape… I’ll help you, but you have to get out…]

A dazzling golden light shimmered on the water, and ashes scattered onto the surface. Yin Ci widened his eyes.

Escape?

He couldn’t escape.

Sword qi surged, cutting through his chaotic body. As his body separated from the flesh pulp, those ethereal thoughts drifted away as well. In the moment of the declining golden fire, Yin Ci tightly grasped the Hanging Shadow Sword and leaped up.

Since he had come, he would go as well.

Shi Jingzhi’s life was far more substantial than this thin layer of window paper.

Emerging from the water, Yin Ci immediately saw Shi Jingzhi in the center of the stone platform. His master stood tall and straight among the ashes falling like snowflakes, descending from the sky. The man exuded a suffocating pressure, as if he were a thorn stuck between heaven and earth.

However, this thorn was fragile and on the verge of breaking.

So Yin Ci naturally stepped forward, embracing the man and sweeping away the attacking tree roots with a single sword strike. Shi Jingzhi was slightly taller than him, but at this moment, his legs gave way, unable to block Yin Ci’s line of sight.

The Goddess formed a tree root platform in mid-air, gasping for breath.

“It’s a pity about my ghostskin robe.”

Having lost a large amount of blood, Yin Ci felt ice-cold all over. Shi Jingzhi leaned against his damp chest, and waves of comforting warmth spread through his body. Yin Ci blissfully narrowed his eyes, and the sword qi became even colder.

“Shizun, since I brought you in, I will definitely send you out… Don’t be angry about this matter, okay?”

Shi Jingzhi’s shocked and exhausted expressions mixed together, and his face paled to the point of fright. He tightly grasped Yin Ci’s wrist, but his voice was too hoarse to be heard clearly, so Yin Ci could only discern his lip movements.

“…A’Ci?”

Yin Ci smiled. “This unfilial disciple arrived late. Shizun is tired, so how about I go and slay that Goddess, to ease Shizun’s boredom?”

He didn’t wait for Shi Jingzhi’s response and simply gently placed him down. Immediately after, Yin Ci stepped on the stone platform and dashed towards the Goddess.

The rivers and seas surged when the deadly blade was unsheathed. The sharpness that had been concealed in the past now emerged with a hint of the power to slay gods and annihilate demons.

The Goddess was horrified. If Shi Jingzhi was still an immature beast, this incoming attack was a genuine god of death. She had witnessed so many immortal potential, yet she had made a mistake with this person.

This person’s appearance was cold like jade, with a fierce and evil aura like a ghost. No matter how she looked at it, they weren’t inferior to the person below.

She hastily summoned tree roots, attempting to use the same trick again to restrain her enemy. Unexpectedly, this time the roots didn’t obey her command and remained still, and the surrounding insect eggs ceased their attacks, revealing a vague hesitation.

For some reason, she could only rely on herself.

The Goddess gritted her teeth and said, “Who are you exactly?”

Before she could finish her sentence, a pitch-black sword tip emerged from her chest. The person completely disregarded her and appeared behind her in an instant, swiftly sending out a strike.

She looked in shock at the wound on her chest. In the next moment, deep cuts appeared on her limbs and joints. The ink-colored sword blades fluttered like butterflies, finally gently stopping at her neck, still carrying her own warmth of blood.

The Goddess sat paralyzed on the platform of tree roots, unable to move even a bit. This person was undoubtedly a seasoned killer, with no unnecessary movements. They were sparing with their words, cutting off all her thoughts from the beginning and leaving her with only a tongue.

The Goddess regretted a bit—this person’s moves showed no inner force, so if she had kept the defensive root coiled around her, she wouldn’t have ended up in such a miserable state. She had been too quick to let down her guard the moment Shi Jingzhi faltered.

Unfortunately, there was no remedy for regret in the world.

Yin Ci stood quietly in front of her with his sword intent as sharp as iron, without a trace of tenderness or reverence for precious things.

“Don’t worry, I won’t kill you just yet. This place is truly interesting, and I have some questions.” Yin Ci’s voice was gentle, but this gentleness, paired with the chilling intent to kill, was particularly terrifying. “Do not answer with falsehoods, do not seal your lips. I know better than anyone in this world how to hurt someone the most.”

As he spoke the latter half of the sentence, within that immensely chilling oppressive feeling, there was a faint sense of desperate self-destruction, as if a jade and stone were both incinerated. The Goddess suddenly felt a bit bewildered—how could someone so filled with sorrow and oppression still be alive?

The Goddess hesitated for a moment, and the sword tip pierced the acupoint in her neck, causing intense pain to surge forth.

Yin Ci: “What is this flesh idol? And what is the giant tree statue?”

The Goddess’s expression changed for a moment, and she laughed, speaking to herself. “Very well. Your talent is exceptional. Combined with the one below, there’s no need to gather materials for the statue anymore.”

“Not the answer I seek.” Yin Ci sighed, and the sword tip moved slightly, revealing another patch of flesh and blood.

The Goddess swallowed a string of screams and looked at him with a sinister gaze. “As an immortal, you naturally endure pain. Boy, disrespecting ghosts and gods will bring you retribution.”

“Retribution? I’ve long since faced retribution… Come, answer again. My little master needs a moment of rest, and we have plenty of time.”

The Goddess smiled, revealing teeth stained with blood. “Is that so?”

This time, she didn’t attack Yin Ci with tree roots. The roots suddenly surged forward, directly striking her own body. The goddess was thrown back several yards and fell onto the flesh idol behind her.

The Goddess didn’t fully merge with the flesh idol like Bai Wei. She only sacrificed half of her body, from the waist down, turning it into flesh pulp and filling the empty skeleton of the statue.

The skeleton was completely concealed, and the flesh statue sat dignified, with half a living person attached to its side. The goddess had translucent white skin, contrasting with the dark red giant statue, resembling a bud on a withered branch.

However, her condition wasn’t quite right.

The Goddess’s face was distorted, her long hair in disarray, and her gaze vacant. Her clothing had been burned by fire and soaked with fresh blood, clinging tightly to her body like decaying skin.

She hung her arms down and spoke hoarsely. “A mere mortal dares to provoke a true immortal. You cannot escape…”

“You’re still able to speak. That’s good.”

As the sword rose and fell, along with half of the statue’s head, the goddess had one of her arms instantly severed. The head and arm rolled down the tree root platform, crashing towards the bottom of the forbidden area.

Hopefully, his cheap master wouldn’t see it, so as not to scare him half to death again.

Yin Ci smiled, swinging his sword, preparing to disable the enemy once more. But in the next instant, his smile froze on his face.

The statue was recovering.

Whether it was the goddess’s arm or the missing half of the head, countless blood-red fine roots extended from their cut surfaces, slowly gathering and gradually restoring their original form.

No one was more familiar with this scene than Yin Ci. Compared to Yin Ci himself, the statue’s recovery was slow and clumsy, but the method of recovery was undoubtedly the same.

In an instant, a certain fear gripped him.

The Bone Sweeping Sword technique rose, and flesh and blood flew.

The Goddess was unafraid of pain, so Yin Ci no longer held back. He crazily slashed at the statue, as if wanting to shatter another version of himself. Severed limbs tumbled and fell, seemingly endless.

The Goddess smiled with a blend of gentleness and bitterness.

She stretched out her hands and repeatedly chewed on Yin Ci’s words. “We have plenty of time.”

She merged with the statue once again, and the root system finally awakened. They gathered with the Goddess’s movements, ready to strike. Yin Ci’s sword gradually slowed down until it stopped.

The Goddess treated his despair as a given. “Giving up is indeed easier. I’ll consume you first and then go find your master…”

A golden flame shot through the air, directly hitting the front of the goddess’s chest.

At some point, Shi Jingzhi regained his strength and gathered the courage to climb up to the high platform.

He clung to the edge of the platform, proudly planting his flag as if demanding an explanation from his disciple. However, when he saw the merged statue so close at hand, Shi Jingzhi’s face turned pale, and he slowly disappeared from the edge of the platform.

“Apologies,” he said sincerely, about to climb back down.

Yin Ci sighed, hooked his sword tip, and brought him up, saying, “Shizun, you came at the right time. I was just thinking of going down to find you.”

Shi Jingzhi glanced over the recovering statue with the scattered chunks of flesh and stopped at his disciple’s unfamiliar face. He made several gulping sounds in his throat, managing to squeeze out a desperate “no”.

Yin Ci embraced his master’s waist once again and held his wrist. “Shizun, take the sword.”

Their body temperatures overlapped, and Shi Jingzhi calmed down slightly, finally speaking in human language once more. “A’Ci, what the hell…”

“The flesh idol has a mechanism on it. It can regenerate, but the speed isn’t very fast. If we timely burn it with yang fire, perhaps we can break its regeneration technique.”

Yin Ci’s voice was calm, as if this matter had nothing to do with him from head to toe. Shi Jingzhi’s movements stiffened slightly, uncertain if he had fully comprehended.

Upon hearing these words, a hint of nervousness flashed across the Goddess’s face. Yin Ci lowered his gaze, feeling a little joy in his heart.

Seeing that it was recovering with difficulty, he wagered that the statue wasn’t yet complete and couldn’t achieve perfect regeneration. As for what kind of destruction would be most effective against “regeneration”, he probably understood it better than the Goddess herself.

Compared to leaving her and forcing her to confess, Yin Ci had found something more valuable—an explicit direction.

He had almost unlimited time and wasn’t worried about not finding any clues. In contrast, he now cared more about another matter.

Could the unfinished flesh idol really be destroyed?

“Shizun, I’ll wield the sword, and you’ll ignite the fire.”

Yin Ci was very close. The warm breath brushed against Shi Jingzhi’s ear, slid down his neck, and carried a hint of temptation.

“Come, let’s completely destroy this place.”


<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Access Denied Ch119

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/


Chapter 119: Moonlit Black Wolf

Several years after the chaos, the relationship between X City and Y City remained strained.

With the retreat of the Erosion Swamps, the continent was left in ruins. Humans were eager to grow three heads and six arms to work tirelessly to make money, fearing that they would miss the golden age. At this critical juncture, the United Government had to allocate a huge amount of expenditure to support the thirty thousand outsiders. Influenced by instigators, the opinions of the citizens weren’t insignificant—

With such a large investment, why not use it for development? Why not use it to build public infrastructure? The thirty thousand “sick seedlings” had grievances among themselves, like wolves that weren’t domesticated. Who knew when they would turn around and bite back?

If it weren’t for the firm methods of Zhu Yanchen, some human factions in Y City would have almost turned hostile.

Fortunately, the influence of the three major families still held sway—Zhu Yanchen, as the new leader of the Zhu family, commanded with no less authority than his father.

Representing the Xia family, Xia Liang, and representing the Tang family, Tang Heyu, both pledged allegiance to Zhu Yanchen. Most of the other major factions had formed rapidly in recent years, with unstable foundations and no means to compete. They could only watch as the benefits flowed to outsiders.

The humans harbored hidden discontent, and the situation was no better for the synthetic humans.

After the Synths Revolution ended, all synthetic humans migrated to X City, and the player system was abolished. The equipment and data that allowed access to the “other world” were transferred to X City.

The information left behind by Zhu Rong had long been made public, and the situation faced by synthetic humans wasn’t simple—while the erosion symptoms were easily treatable, stabilizing the artificially synthesized bodies was a difficult task. Even with the compensatory medical support from Y City, synthetic humans still had to undergo years of long-term treatment to achieve a basic normal life and lifespan.

To make matters worse, as the erosion symptoms improved, all the abilities of synthetic humans were greatly weakened, almost disappearing. The synthetic humans were in their prime, the age when they desired freedom the most. Spending years trapped by medication, feelings of dissatisfaction quietly grew—

“They must have softened up at the top. It’s been so long, and we can’t even find a team for revenge.”

Every week on the designated treatment day, to pass the long two days, the synthetic humans would enter the “other side” during the treatment process, experiencing a special weekend. But just the thought of lying in the real world with tubes inserted all over their bodies, unable to enjoy a good drink, made people feel frustrated.

“Revenge? Not everyone has enemies. Take those top-tier teams; half of them lost their loved ones, only thinking about the losses they suffered at the hands of humans—Zhu Yanchen has a good attitude. He did the necessary publicity, and the compensation he provided isn’t lacking. Even if we were to seek justice from the humans, we wouldn’t get better treatment. Think about it. How could those people risk their lives?”

“That’s easy for you to say. Isn’t it just a matter of showing some courage?” The young man clenched his teeth and slammed his glass onto the table.

On the other side of the bar, the bartender dressed as a one-eyed pirate glanced at him, making the young man’s expression even uglier.

“Opening up the data is definitely a way to corrupt us. Shu Jun’s head is spinning. He was deceived by such a cunning and treacherous person. You’ll see, once humans develop, X City won’t be able to hold on. With over a billion humans in the equation, even the newborn babies on our side need genetic stabilization. Being swallowed up is just a matter of time.”

“You’re just too used to living a comfortable life. I know plenty of people who have settled down and have no intention of fighting. This is how reality is, you either accept it or you don’t.”

“It’s truly humiliating,” the young man scoffed. “Someone needs to wake them up. How about this, once we’re out of here, we gather a few comrades and discuss… “

As he spoke, he glanced at the NPC bartender next to him—X City was currently led by Hu Yan, and the danger detection system from the “other side” program was still in place. If they were to discuss a plan to sabotage here, it wouldn’t take half a day before the Synthetic Human Government would come knocking on their door.

The NPC didn’t issue a warning. He just turned his face away and calmly wiped the glasses.

Only then did the young man breathe a sigh of relief.

In reality, this plan was neither too big nor too small. The next day, he gathered three to five people and reluctantly formed a combat unit to head to the border of Y City. If they caused some commotion, it would undoubtedly prove the malicious intentions of the United Government.

Y City had expanded significantly, and the border had reached the original settlement area. The current settlement area was different from before; clean and tidy, resembling a city.

The group found an inconspicuous inn. Compared to the flashy shops around it, this inn was modest, with barely any customers inside. It was a good place to take a rest. The innkeeper was tall and burly, wearing a hat adorned with two black pompoms, making him hard to miss.

When the guests entered, the innkeeper immediately grinned, revealing a bright smile. “Welcome, newcomers. Would you like to have dinner? Here’s our menu, and we also offer specialty snacks for delivery.”

The young man maintained a cold expression and responded icily.

“Just call me Uncle Pan.” The innkeeper ignored the group’s coldness and continued to smile. “If you need a place to stay, my inn is…”

“I’ll let you know if I need anything. No need for introductions,” the young man interrupted coldly. “…Start with five bottles of sparkling water, chilled.”

“Alright!” The innkeeper filtered out any unfriendliness automatically and happily rubbed his hands.

“The pastries from the delivery service here are pretty good.” The only other customer in the inn turned his head and casually started a conversation. “Eat them with hot soybean paste. They taste amazing.”

The young man furrowed his brow. Not only was the innkeeper troublesome, but even the customers were causing trouble. The signs weren’t good.

He couldn’t help but glance at the person—wearing bulging equipment that obscured most of their face and a peculiar hat on their head, giving them the appearance of a scavenger in the ruins. Their voice was young and cheerful, their complexion difficult to discern under the dim yellow light, with a few strands of gray hair peeking out from under the brim of their hat.

It was unclear whether the gray hair was dyed or a remnant of the sequelae of erosion.

“Gray Claw, helping me attract customers again?” Uncle Pan returned with the sparkling water; the bottle was covered in condensation droplets.

“It’s really delicious.” Gray Claw’s voice was also filled with joy. “That’s why I’m getting it to go. My partner is busy with work and can’t get away, but we both wanted to have a taste, so there’s no other choice.”

Uncle Pan’s smile took on a deeper meaning. “Please give my regards and thank him for taking care of us brothers’ business.”

“Of course, of course.”

The young man wasn’t in the mood to listen to these two humans chatting. He was still calculating tonight’s operation. The instructions for negotiating with the Synthetic Human Liaison Department in Y City should be clear, but he didn’t know if they would be able to gather information from the other side tonight…

The peculiar customer had only spoken that much and didn’t continue to bother them.

But that night, as the group got closer to the Synthetic Human Liaison Department, the surroundings grew increasingly deserted. The young man, leading the way, gradually became restless—his sense of direction had always been good, and as they approached their target, he felt the sensation drifting off course.

“Hey.” Just as the young man’s nerves reached their limit and he came to a halt, a greeting came from behind him.

A disproportionately large black wolf hid in the shadows of a high-rise building; its two gray eyes gleaming with a cold light. Against the backdrop of the sharply angular architecture, the scene before them seemed almost surreal. The young man’s hand trembled as he fired a shot.

“Don’t be so tense.” The bullet grazed the black wolf’s body, but it remained unfazed, speaking in a human voice. “I’m just here to confirm a few things.”

With that, the massive black beast stood motionless, silently giving them time to react.

The air froze for several minutes.

“Shu Jun?” Although the black wolf was smaller than he remembered, the young man still recognized the figure—there was only one person in the world who could transform into this form. He took a moment to adjust his breathing and tentatively spoke. “Aren’t you supposed to be held captive by humans?”

“Just a little trick.” The black wolf’s voice carried a hint of laughter. “It gets boring sleeping all alone. How about it? By appearing like this, I don’t need to prove my identity, right?”

“So, you’ve been lurking here all this time…”

“I don’t answer questions. I’m here to ask questions.” The black wolf tilted its head slightly, skillfully shifting the topic. “Did you come here for revenge or…?”

“It has nothing to do with personal grudges. Some of our fellow beings need to wake up and see the true face of humans. We’ve heard recent talk about ‘burdensome synthetic humans’.” The young man gritted his teeth. “Zhu Yanchen has malicious intentions. He’s boiling us frogs in warm water. He may appear innocent now, but once his term is over and the next leader takes office, the policies will change. We won’t have any good days!”

Under the bright moonlight, the giant black wolf appeared as dark as ink. Its ears twitched, listening attentively.

“…Reasonable concerns.” Shu Jun paused for a moment. “If you came here for this matter, I can promise that as long as I’m here, humans won’t lay a hand on synthetic humans for the next hundred years.”

Dozens of tendrils of erosion extended from the black wolf’s shadow, sliding along the surrounding walls.

“If humans do act, I will be the first one to stand up.”

By now, Shu Jun’s abilities had been exposed to a considerable extent. The young man looked at the tendrils of erosion with some trepidation, muttering softly, “How can we trust you? What if you side with humans… Weren’t you here today to protect this place as well?”

It was true that Shu Jun was originally a synthetic human, but he—or it—was no longer considered human. Moreover, Shu Jun’s relationship with Zhu Yanchen had always been ambiguous. Over the years, he had never appeared in X City, and it was possible that he had turned to protect the United Government…

Countless thoughts raced through the young man’s mind. Looking at the black beast before him, he even felt a hint of instinctual fear.

As if sensing that fear, the black wolf lowered its head. Its movements were extremely gentle, so as not to startle the group. “I am indeed here to protect this place.”

The faces of the young people instantly turned pale.

“…If you are seeking personal revenge, and the target is reasonable, and you have no intention of harming the innocent, then I won’t assist or interfere in the slightest.” Shu Jun maintained his wolf form and spoke with a calm tone. “However, since you desire a sense of security, I will ensure the safety of X City. Please go back.”

“We can’t trust you.”

The black wolf emitted a low chuckle. “You don’t have a choice.”

“You…!”

“There are even more human factions trying to incite conflict. Just as I am here, there are humans on the outskirts of X City working hard to maintain peace. The stability of these years cannot be upheld by a mere contract. Everyone, think carefully.”

“Don’t talk about not obstructing personal revenge.” Someone murmured quietly within the group. “If we randomly point out a person to kill, can you tell?”

“I know the names of each and every one of you, as well as the names of every deceased loved one, and even the date of their death. There is one human who remembers—remembers very well. So, how about it? Do you want to test me?”

Silence once again spread through the night.

“Go back,” Shu Jun said sincerely. “Even if you seek personal revenge, I suggest you take care of your health before coming.”

“…I don’t believe…” After a long time, the young man at the front murmured. “I don’t believe in Zhu Yanchen, and I don’t believe in you. There is no guarantee for the future of synthetic humans…”

“So far, 17 cases of marriage between humans and synthetic humans have been recognized. After the descendants of synthetic humans receive gene therapy, the differences between them and humans will become increasingly minimal. In a few decades, the concept of ‘synthetic humans’ will indeed disappear—not eradicated, but rather you will live your lives well and your descendants will integrate smoothly into the normal human population.”

Then, the voice of the black wolf lowered.

“But if it had been before, the flames of war would have been ignited. The new human factions would try their best to wipe you out, seeking more resources and tranquility.”

“How could I not know that? But we simply can’t trust humans! If we don’t take the initiative and remain vigilant, what’s the difference between that and waiting to be slaughtered? As the former captain of the Blackbirds, do you truly believe the nonsense from humans?” The young man questioned with a tone of disbelief.

“Of course, I don’t believe it,” the black wolf flicked its tail and responded in a cunning tone. “That’s why I’ll protect everyone.”

“…But we don’t trust you either!”

The black wolf twitched its ears again and narrowed its eyes in amusement.

As the conversation went back and forth, the team fell into a stalemate. They were infuriated by the situation—a former captain of the Blackbirds stood before them, smiling and spouting nonsense, exuding a ruffian-like touch.

However, the difference in strength was too great; they couldn’t defeat Shu Jun, and they couldn’t stay stuck in the same dialogue either. After a few hours, the team returned to the inn in frustration and ordered five servings of pancakes with sauce, looking exhausted.

Command center, rooftop restaurant, the leader’s private room.

“Someone came again tonight?” Zhu Yanchen rubbed the tendrils of erosion on Shu Jun’s back—Shu Jun had arrived in a hurry and didn’t have time to retract all his tendrils, so they were still trembling in the air.

“Sorry for being late. Those young ones are too quick.” Shu Jun scratched his head with his claw. “Yesterday, Yu Jin overheard them discussing it on ‘the other side’, and today they came running here—they’re still staying at Uncle Pan’s inn. It’s fortunate that you placed the Synthetic Humans Liaison Department there; I caught them one by one.”

“You’ve worked hard.” Zhu Yanchen lightly kissed the corner of Shu Jun’s mouth. “Recently, Yu Jin also intercepted a few saboteurs near X City… Those emerging factions haven’t been very honest.”

“They need to be dealt with.”

“We can take this opportunity to compare tactics,” Zhu Yanchen stated earnestly.

“Alright, this time, I will definitely win against you.” Shu Jun lightly bit Zhu Yanchen’s lower lip with his sharp teeth as his eyes curved with a smile. “On another note, my esteemed Chief Advisor, since we made plans to have a meal, let’s discuss official matters later.”

With that said, he took out a bag of pancakes from his pocket. “While they’re still warm, let’s eat quickly. Uncle Pan specially prepared them, and the crust is still crispy.”

“Mm.”

“Wait, wait, A’Yan, hold on, don’t kiss… Since we’re going to compare tactics, do I have to come over again tomorrow?”

“Yes, I’ve already arranged the schedule in advance.”

“So, you planned this in advance? I suspect you just wanted to see me more.”

Zhu Yanchen curled his lips. “Of course.”

Shu Jun took a big bite of the pancake, feigning a look of hesitation. Unfortunately, he couldn’t keep up the act for even five seconds before completely breaking character—Captain Shu swallowed the bite in his mouth, and his eyes sparkled with delight.

“Alright, A’Yan, see you tomorrow.”


<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Criminal Psychology Ch235

Author: 长洱 / Chang’er

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/


Chapter 235

“I’m not sad about that.”

Wang Chao interrupted the conversation.

Lin Chen was taken aback and asked, “What do you mean by ‘that’?”

“That refers to what you just said to comfort me. You mentioned that although there are bad people in this world, there are also many good people.” Wang Chao sighed, sitting in the shade of the camphor tree, holding the plastic lunch box, and staring at the dumplings inside. “I don’t have the tendency to generalize. It’s meaningless to judge the moral level of society based on a small-scale event.” The teenager spoke with a proud tone.

Lin Chen glanced at Xing Conglian in surprise. Just a second ago, this teenager seemed on the verge of tears, but now he was analyzing social psychology. Before Xing Conglian could react, Lin Chen directly flicked the back of Wang Chao’s head and prevented the teenager from using his dirty hands to pick up the dumplings.

“You have chopsticks.”

Wang Chao rubbed the back of his head and looked at him with an extremely incredulous expression. Then he said word by word, “A’Chen Gege, you hit me! You hit me!”

“What else should I do? Kiss you instead?” Lin Chen said irritably.

“You can only kiss me.” Xing Conglian chimed in.

With the two gentlemen causing a commotion, Lin Chen felt that the previously brewing atmosphere of sadness had dissipated a lot.

Of course, Lin Chen didn’t truly believe that these two individuals were unaffected by the hidden secrets of decades ago.

Clearly, the smile on Xing Conglian’s face wasn’t genuine. His eyes were cold and devoid of amusement, and even Wang Chao, holding the bowl of dumplings with trembling fingers, seemed to be trying to conceal his true emotions.

Lin Chen unwrapped a pair of disposable chopsticks and handed them to Wang Chao, then asked, “So, what is the reason you’re actually feeling sad?”

“I think Shen Lian is a pervert.” Wang Chao paused before emphasizing, “a psychologically disturbed one.”

“Mm.” Lin Chen emitted a short and concise syllable. “Go on.”

“But according to your analysis, so many people indirectly caused the death of the old man. Why is it that, in the end, it was Shen Lian who mustered the courage to reveal the truth? It doesn’t feel right. Shen Lian should have been the worst one.”

“You’re still simplifying things by categorizing people as either good or bad. In reality, humans are complex beings, and there are no simple categories of good or bad people, simply right or wrong people, especially in this case.” Lin Chen patted the back of Wang Chao’s head. “One simple question, even if she was truly sexually assaulted, why did she never mention it, even when facing the police?”

“Yeah, it’s strange. Why did she lie?!” Wang Chao slapped his thigh. “Because she said it before, but her parents didn’t believe her?”

“I tend to believe that Shen Lian didn’t tell the truth from the beginning in order to protect her own interests, indirectly leading to the death of the old homeless man,” Lin Chen said.

Wang Chao opened his mouth, his expression turning from confusion to panic.

Just then, Wang Chao’s phone rang.

The teenager scrambled to retrieve his phone, seeing an unfamiliar number. He paused for a moment, quickly searched the caller on the laptop, and nearly threw the phone away.

“Why would that dumbass Huang Ze call me?”

“Because we both blocked him,” Xing Conglian stated matter-of-factly.

“You guys are setting me up!”

Wang Chao held the phone as if it were a hot potato, unsure whether to answer or not. In the end, Lin Chen said, “Answer it. Put it on speaker.”

Sure enough, Huang Ze’s gloomy voice came through the receiver.

“I heard you guys were chatting outside the dumpling restaurant?”

The atmosphere in the high-level office of the city bureau was obviously tense. Led by the provincial department, an official task force had been formed.

The round table in the meeting room was filled with laptops, and the room was filled with suffocating smoke. In just two hours, the ashtray on the table had been emptied several times. Not to mention the numerous phone calls and video conferences, countless leaders wanted to hear the details of the case that even he regretted reporting the incident for a moment.

He couldn’t reveal what he knew, so he could only talk about some trivial details and claim that a large number of police forces were already conducting a thorough investigation. At that moment, he mentioned Xing Conglian and Lin Chen.

Due to the wide-ranging and far-reaching implications of the case and the need to consider various opinions, he could only use “under investigation” as an excuse. But just a moment ago, a certain officer he wasn’t on good terms with mentioned that the so-called investigators were leisurely chatting outside a dumpling restaurant. This made Huang Ze burn with anger, but he couldn’t express it.

The previous meeting had come to an end, and he walked out with his phone in hand. What was even more infuriating was that Lin Chen and Xing Conglian had blocked his number, so he had no choice but to call Wang Chao’s phone.

This was no longer a simple matter of frustration.

Lin Chen sat on the flower bed, quietly listening to Huang Ze vent his anger and drift off-topic on the phone. It had turned into obvious complaints. Lin Chen felt that Huang Ze had vented enough, so he interrupted him.

“We came here to investigate the case. Doesn’t Inspector Huang want to hear the latest progress in our case report?”

Huang Ze was stunned, and there was a sudden silence on the other end of the phone. Huang Ze sarcastically said, “You’re still willing to talk to me?”

The statement carried an ambiguous meaning.

Xing Conglian propped his legs up and took out a cigarette, raising an eyebrow at him.

Lin Chen handed the phone over to Xing Conglian.

Xing Conglian took the call without greeting Huang Ze and simply summarized the key points of their investigation, including the tragedy that happened in Xiaolin Lane years ago.

On the other end of the phone, Huang Ze sneered again. “So, this is Lin Chen’s way of handling the case. You dig into Shen Lian’s past, but does it help with dealing with the most difficult current situation?”

Lin Chen glanced at Xing Conglian.

Xing Conglian made a gesture to him, indicating that this person was too annoying.

“Shen Lian is also psychologically unstable.” Lin Chen stared at the bustling street not far away. The more Huang Ze questioned these meaningless analyses, the calmer and more meticulous he became. “Not only Shen Lian’s parents, but even other adults on that street believed that Shen Lian had ‘mental issues’ before. And based on Shen Lian’s current condition of retaliating against society, she was likely born this way. People like her probably have a probability of 2% among the general population.”

Wang Chao shuddered. On the other end of the phone, Huang Ze remained stubborn. “And then? Does labeling Shen Lian as a psychological abnormality have any meaning for us in apprehending her?”

Lin Chen patted the back of the teenager’s head and continued, “This is a normal phenomenon within the entire human race. Since birth, Shen Lian’s brain functions, serotonin, dopamine, and monoamine neurotransmitters have naturally been at an abnormal level, different from ordinary people. This predetermined her to exhibit obvious differences from normal children in many sudden moments, causing panic in her parents.”

Lin Chen paused, remembering Shen Lian’s appearance with double ponytails when she was a child. Although she stared into the camera, it was as if she was looking into the distance through it.

Although he couldn’t gather too much specific information about Shen Lian’s upbringing from the data, even from small details, it was evident that Shen Lian’s parents were not the type to care for and protect their child diligently and unconditionally. And in school, her peculiarities led to her being out of sync with the overall environment.

As a result, Shen Lian’s academic performance had always been average.

That was the basic state of Shen Lian before experiencing that cold winter night.

And then…

“At that time, the homeless man who saved Shen Lian from danger must have had a conflict with Chen Jianguo. The argument escalated. As the person involved and a middle school student with full narrative ability, if Shen Lian had clearly stated what exactly happened at the time, there wouldn’t be so many people in the world that would blindly defend a neighbor who tried to molest a young girl.” When he thought of this, Lin Chen couldn’t help but feel a chill, and he said, “So the most likely possibility is that on that night, Shen Lian didn’t say anything.”

Although Huang Ze kept urging, Lin Chen couldn’t help but ponder.

What was Shen Lian thinking in her mind?

First of all, she couldn’t have been frightened. Based on Shen Lian’s repeated statements to the police about the incident while deliberately avoiding mentioning the molestation, it could be seen that Shen Lian was intentionally hiding this fact. Therefore, she made the choice that was most beneficial to herself after weighing the pros and cons.

The old man was shouting, and the silent Shen Lian was taken away. It was originally an incident caused by people who were only trying to maintain neighborhood harmony but ended up inflicting harm on others due to certain irreparable flaws in human social behavior, resulting in an extremely dehumanizing event.

When Lin Chen reached this point, he finally couldn’t continue.

He stopped and felt that the summer sunlight seemed to have lost its effect. Under the camphor tree, the wind felt cold and piercing.

But Xing Conglian continued the topic. “So, what you’re saying is that everything Shen Lian did was only to protect her own interests?”

Lin Chen nodded.

Xing Conglian sneered, “She wasn’t seeking justice for the old man; she just wanted to punish those who had hurt her. As Lao Bian just mentioned, the relationship between the Shen and Chen families was strained, which indicates that Shen Lian’s target for revenge was always clear—Chen Jianguo. When she realized that her personal power was insufficient, she began seeking external help. First, her parents, and then the police. She persisted tirelessly until she suddenly discovered that she herself had become one of the murderers. She’s like an extremely dangerous combustible material ignited by a spark and has been burning ever since.”

“That’s probably it.” Lin Chen nodded, looking at Xing Conglian approvingly. “Captain Xing, if you keep going like this, I might end up unemployed.”

“Unemployment is good. I’ll support you.”

Lin Chen shook his head helplessly. Police officers began to enter the dumpling restaurant, but Xing Conglian nonchalantly hooked his shoulder, with a comforting expression. If they weren’t discussing an extremely dangerous individual and dark matters, Lin Chen would even have the illusion that they were enjoying aimless love under the sun, with the wind blowing.


<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Evil As Humans Ch188

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/


Chapter 188: Experimental Accident

Yin Ren had become accustomed to Zhong Chengshuo’s horror-inducing behavior by now.

Zhong Chengshuo, sleep-deprived and groggy, climbed out of bed and squinted as he changed his clothes. Yin Ren pulled out a linen shirt from the wardrobe, put it on, and made two cups of chilled fruit juice from the apples in the refrigerator, considering it a refreshing drink.

In just a quarter of an hour, the windows of the living room were wide open. Yin Ren held Zhong Chengshuo tightly, and the two flew towards the secret base in the old city district.

Zhong Chengshuo’s secret basement remained the same as before. Compared to the summer, the indoor air felt cooler and drier.

As Yin Ren touched the steel frame along the wall, he couldn’t help but feel a bit sentimental. There were memories of intimacy and sweetness mixed with sorrow and despair about this place. His gaze swept over the interrogation chair, where they first experienced an intimate melding of body and soul, and then turned to the storage room hidden behind the clamp, where the sweetness and bitterness in his heart merged into a rich chocolate-like flavor.

His gaze finally landed on Zhong Chengshuo, who had entered the room ahead of him.

The room’s layout was as cold and rigid as before. It truly needed Zhong Chengshuo to walk around in it to avoid feeling lifeless.

Zhong Chengshuo immediately headed for the refrigerator, attempting to find some chocolate or juice for Yin Ren. Unfortunately, they had indulged here for an absurd amount of time, exhausting their energy, and all the food and drinks had been emptied at once.

So Comrade Xiao Zhong could only hang his head, with a stern face, and walk towards the shelves.

He took down a stainless steel canister and carefully moved it to the table. He called Yin Ren closer, and then verified his fingerprint at the top of the canister. With a slight hissing sound, the canister emitted a strange-smelling gas. The contents inside rose on their own, revealing their true nature.

It was a human brain.

Yin Ren’s pupils contracted, and then he looked at Zhong Chengshuo in shock.

Embedded in the stainless steel canister was a glass container, and floating inside it was a human brain. The brain had a full and rounded shape, with a fresh grayish-pink hue on its surface, as if it were still alive. With Zhong Chengshuo’s movements, it gently swayed inside the glass container.

“Zhong Ge… What is this…”

Even though Lord Ghost King’s biological knowledge was close to zero, he still knew that a person couldn’t survive without a brain.

Zhong Chengshuo blinked and tapped on the glass canister. Suddenly, the brain inside the canister became semi-transparent, shimmering with countless subtle streams of light.

“This is the refined modeling method I’ve found. In terms of microscopic structure and level of detail, it is no different from a living brain.” Zhong Chengshuo solemnly introduced. “Unfortunately, this technology is not suitable for exposure at the moment. To obtain accurate information from the brain’s interior, a significant amount of stimulation is required, and the methods are somewhat inhumane.”

He pushed up his glasses on the bridge of his nose. His tone was devoid of guilt, as if it were more like making some kind of judgment.

Yin Ren silently looked at the colorful brain model. “I have indeed been curious. What did you do to Guo Laifu back then?”

He had seen Guo Laifu’s memories. That beast who sacrificed his own son had been driven mad by Zhong Chengshuo. Unfortunately, the memories lacked the process, leaving Guo Laifu’s mind shrouded in darkness.

Zhong Chengshuo pondered for a moment, took a deep breath, and lifted his eyes. “Yin Ren, look at me.”

Yin Ren subconsciously looked at those familiar eyes, and the next moment, those crimson irises slightly widened.

Just like the pitch-black ocean beneath the cliff back then, Zhong Chengshuo’s eyes were not truly “black”.

Upon closer inspection, it was unclear whether this person’s pupils were too dilated or his irises were too dark, but Yin Ren couldn’t find the boundary between Zhong Chengshuo’s irises and pupils. However, he could see clearly that something was squirming, squeezing, and rotating within those eyes, revealing vague contours.

That refined and elegant face seemed to transform into some kind of exquisite container in that moment. This body called “Zhong Chengshuo” only resembled a human in appearance but lacked a crucial “living human” aura.

Just through their gaze, every hair on Yin Ren’s back stood up, overwhelmed by an unprecedented sense of repulsion.

Just like a fierce tiger sensing another.

As time passed, a bone-deep fear, directly penetrating his soul, seeped into Yin Ren. It bypassed the steps of “perception” and “thought” and went straight to the depths of his heart, like instinct. Fortunately, the intensity of this fear was relatively mild, equivalent to “discovering that the usual late-night snack shop was closed”.

Zhong Chengshuo was about to avert his gaze when he felt a not-too-light, not-too-heavy pulling sensation on his cheek.

The audacious Lord Ghost King approached, tugging at his face.

The situation was similar to his speculation. Zhong Chengshuo hadn’t completely merged his body into a human form; he retained some of his original structure within his eyeballs. Just like the venomous fangs of a venomous snake—as long as they were used appropriately, they could transform into a terrifying weapon at any moment.

It was fortunate that Zhong Yude and Cheng Xuehua had adopted this guy. Zhong Chengshuo had no sense of belonging to the “human” race. If he had been raised by Sunken Society, the consequences would have been unimaginable.

It was great that before him, there was still the pure and naive “god” from back then.

“You held back with me, right? It’s true that seeing your true form would be enough to scare an ordinary person to death,” Yin Ren sincerely remarked.

“Yes.” Zhong Chengshuo’s voice was strained as his face was still being tugged. “Mmm… I will test their limits of fear.”

Yin Ren took the opportunity to give him a kiss, then released his hand. Seeing that Yin Ren had no other reaction, Zhong Chengshuo adjusted his askew glasses, and his brows and eyes softened quite a bit.

He started moving around the secret base again. Before long, the entire table was filled with highly detailed models of human brains. Countless brains flickered with subtle lights, neatly arranged on the table. Zhong Chengshuo sat down in front of the computer and started typing on the keyboard.

Yin Ren, on the other hand, lay idle on the table, gazing at the mesmerizing flow of lights from the brains before him.

It was truly fascinating how these models, obtained from heinous serial killers, could be so beautiful. They emitted a faint glow within their glass containers, resembling some kind of bizarre-shaped deep-sea jellyfish.

Yin Ren clenched the wooden rabbit talisman in his hand, but these brains showed no peculiar reactions.

All he could hear was the tapping of Zhong Chengshuo’s keyboard, mixed with the crisp clicking sound of the mouse. Yin Ren tightened his grip on the wooden rabbit talisman, and his eyelids grew heavier.

In the next moment, Yin Ren was abruptly awakened by an overwhelming killing intent.

The source of the killing intent was numerous, coming from all directions. And at this moment, he was no longer in the familiar underground basement but floating amidst chaos. At the end of the killing intent, countless shimmering and translucent “brain jellyfish” floated around him, radiating intense malice and killing intent.

Yin Ren instinctively suppressed his aura.

He could sense that the killing intent didn’t stem from hatred or anger but purely from “pleasure”. Those flickering brains were like sharks catching the scent of blood, lingering around him.

And in the distance, Yin Ren couldn’t see clearly. His senses were exceptionally chaotic, as if submerged in murky seawater. The brain jellyfish gradually faded away, sinking deeper into the sea, while more indistinct entities appeared around him.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

The chaos was filled with rhythmic vibrations, and its sensation was difficult to describe. Unrelated to hearing, unrelated to touch, but Yin Ren just knew that the collision sound never ceased.

What kind of place is this?

Boom! Boom! Boom!

The rhythmic vibrations were irregular, with subtle variations in rhythm. If forced to describe, it was as if someone was manually striking something.

Yin Ren couldn’t help but move his body, quietly approaching the source of the strikes. However, this place was bizarre. He wandered in place for a long time, unable to make any progress or successfully move even a bit.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

The “sound” became clearer, causing discomfort throughout Yin Ren’s body. Just as he was about to further investigate, something suddenly grabbed hold of him. It possessed a formidable aura, pulling him in the opposite direction of the pounding sound.

Yin Ren wanted to confirm the identity of the assailant, but the perception remained chaotic, and he couldn’t glean any further information about the “attacker.”

Who could it be?

Before Yin Ren could fully comprehend the situation, a warmth pressed against his shoulder. He instantly opened his eyes and found himself back in the basement, bathed in the cold light.

“…Yin Ren.”

At some point, Zhong Chengshuo had stopped his search. He gently shook Yin Ren’s shoulder and called out in a low voice.

“Yin Ren, wake up. I’ve almost finished the search.”

Yin Ren pressed his slightly throbbing temple, abruptly transitioning from a dream to reality. The sensation of weightlessness threatened to swallow him whole.

“What?”

“Twenty-eight years ago, the missing people from the Divine Descent.” Zhong Chengshuo displayed his computer screen, and beside the computer, a stack of thick paper documents appeared out of nowhere. “I’ve observed some families and recorded more detailed information than the Shian officials. It’s a fact that most of the missing individuals had good personalities.”

Yin Ren momentarily set aside the inexplicable dream and perked up his ears. “You said ‘most of them had good personalities’?”

“Yes, unfortunately, there were a few individuals with not-so-good reputations.” As he spoke, Zhong Chengshuo brought up some data.

Yin Ren glanced at them briefly. Several were local troublemakers, while others were notoriously stingy vendors. Their information was very ordinary, lacking any earth-shattering positive deeds.

No matter how he looked at it, these individuals had no connection to the so-called “good personality”.

Zhong Chengshuo asked Yin Ren to sit in the chair while he wrapped his arms around the back of the chair and manipulated the mouse.

“You know, as long as there are exceptions, Fu Xingchuan’s speculation doesn’t hold. But he raised an interesting perspective: most of the missing individuals had good personalities, and that can’t be a mere coincidence.”

Yin Ren stared at the dense explanatory text on the computer screen.

Zhong Chengshuo’s investigation was incredibly detailed. Over the years, in order to determine the cause of Zhong Chengfeng’s disappearance, apart from basic elements like gender, age, and occupation, he even looked into the family composition and reputation of other missing individuals, compiling their “character profiles”.

Regardless of gender, regardless of age, regardless of occupation…

Unlike Zhong Chengshuo, Yin Ren’s memory of the modern era was limited. He looked at the seemingly unrelated data, and suddenly something flashed in his mind.

“…Zhong Ge, do you remember the series of disappearances involving Bai Yongji? The case where the victims were fused into furniture?”

“I remember.”

“His criteria were ‘enduring suffering while maintaining optimism’.” Yin Ren looked at the data in front of him, trying to organize his thoughts. “But it doesn’t have much to do with psychological reasons. It’s just because he wanted to send half of the victims’ bodies to the Other Side. Judging from his intentions, individuals with that personality trait would last a bit longer on the Other Side.”

Zhong Chengshuo hummed in response on his shoulder.

“Of course, these people disappeared entirely during the Divine Descent, and the circumstances aren’t entirely consistent. But I wonder… I’m just speculating—could this practice have something to do with ‘preservation on the Other Side’? All the Elementals we have encountered so far feed on emotions, and emotions arise when people are alive.”

Zhong Chengshuo released the chair.

He pondered for a moment and connected the numerous brains on the table to the computer.

“If your speculation is correct, these people disappeared because their ‘shelf life’ is longer and their ‘nutritional value’ is higher. It works perfectly.”

“These brain models belonged to serial killers, and their mental intensity is more than enough. Now, I will use them to simulate some common emotions. If your speculation is correct, there should be some useful data to be obtained if there is a corruption source from Evil Force nearby.”

……

The next day, Ge Tingting and Huang Jin saw dark circles under the eyes of the other three, indicating lack of sleep.

Lu Xiaohe’s insomnia was understandable, and Yin Ren’s sleeplessness could be attributed to coincidence. As for why the “flesh puppet” also had dark circles, that was a matter not worth pondering. For some reason, Ge Tingting felt a subtle sense of unease from Yin Ren today.

“Do you have any progress on your side?” Despite knowing that Yin Ren’s expression wasn’t good, Lu Xiaohe couldn’t help but ask. “Anything, really anything.”

“I have some speculations, but it’s not going smoothly.” Yin Ren evaded the question.

It wasn’t just going smoothly; it was causing big trouble.

That night, Zhong Chengshuo retrieved the emotional measurement scale from within Shian’s Archive. It was said to be the emotion data observed and analyzed by the Shian Observation and Analysis Archive, a meticulously revised and reasonably categorized scale—

Under the two basic categories of “fear” and “satisfaction”, there were subdivisions of “sorrow” and “hatred”, “joy” and “love”, as well as countless smaller, more subtle emotions extending further down the scale. It felt like it would take a hundred years to try them all.

So they started from the top with “satisfaction” and slowly proceeded along the positive emotions. The rabbit talisman was surrounded by brains on the table, and there was no change on either side.

The night ended, and the sun rose. The two Primordial Elementals went from being enthusiastic to bitter. Zhong Chengshuo started to yawn, and Yin Ren slipped out to buy breakfast. The faint smell of medicine in the room was overpowered by the aroma of deep-fried dough sticks and soy milk. Zhong Chengshuo finally decided to abandon the “quiet pleasure” according to the emotional data from Shian and switch to the “fear” category for another experiment.

This time, Zhong Chengshuo even wrote an emotion simulation script for this experiment.

A large amount of simulated fear emotions succeeded, but there was no response.

Yin Ren and Zhong Chengshuo each had a dough stick, dipping it in soy milk and eating bite by bite.

A large amount of disgust emotions were successfully simulated, but there was no response.

Yin Ren started to savor a tea egg slowly, and Zhong Chengshuo bit into a row of corn, occasionally glancing at his watch.

“It’s morning.” Zhong Chengshuo announced the time on the hour.

“Yes, it’s dawn.” Yin Ren wiped his mouth, his face filled with melancholy.

Zhong Chengshuo finished the corn, wiped the corners of his mouth earnestly, and leaned in to kiss Yin Ren’s forehead. “Good morning.”

At that moment, the program automatically simulated “sorrow”.

The rabbit talisman suddenly emitted a dazzling light, and sparks of electricity and magical brilliance erupted simultaneously. After a series of explosions, the surrounding brain models were destroyed one by one.

Amidst the smoke and broken glass, the space slowly cracked, and a familiar figure appeared before the two of them.

When Qi Xin appeared in this basement, Zhong Chengshuo hadn’t had the chance to finish kissing Yin Ren’s forehead. More than a dozen shards of glass fell into the steaming soy milk.

Qi Xin: “…” She stood on the table with her flat shoes, stepping on the wet glass and emitting squeaking and creaking sounds. All the brain models were completely damaged, and King Yama’s years of hunting records turned into nothingness in an instant.

Zhong Chengshuo and Yin Ren: “…”

The air was so quiet that one could hear a pin drop.

“I thought there was food.” Qi Xin glanced at Yin Ren, casually adjusting her hair. “Sorry for the interruption. Maybe we’ll meet again.”

“Wait!” Yin Ren spoke up. “I have something to discuss!”

“You did well in thwarting Mr. Qiu.”

Qi Xin looked down at Yin Ren from a high vantage point, and under the pale light, the faint red at the corner of her eyes appeared particularly striking.

“You have grown quickly, and I am pleased… In terms of power, you may have matured. But right now, you have no fighting skills. With your current level, there is nothing for us to discuss.”

She kept her gaze on Yin Ren as if Zhong Chengshuo on the side was just a decoration in the room.

“Maybe we’ll meet again, cub. Remember not to approach if you hear knocking sounds next time.”

Thinking of the inexplicable dream just now and the force that pulled him away, Yin Ren was taken aback. “Was it you just now…”

Qi Xin smiled lightly, and her figure began to fade away.

But this time, before Yin Ren could make a move, Zhong Chengshuo rushed forward like a cannonball and grabbed Qi Xin’s wrist. There was no expression on his face, but strangely, Yin Ren knew that his lover was displeased.

Qi Xin paid no attention to it. However, after a few seconds, all the profound and unfathomable expressions on her face turned into question marks.

Her body disappeared up to her wrist, and then, as if a skill had been interrupted, she solidified once again. Qi Xin and Zhong Chengshuo remained silent, staring at each other, and she slowly shook her wrist.

Zhong Chengshuo didn’t let go.

Qi Xin exerted more force to shake him off.

Zhong Chengshuo remained unmoved, and his expression turned even colder.

“What is this?” Qi Xin narrowed her eyes, and the aura of killing intent gradually intensified around her.

Yin Ren gasped for breath, his hand forming a seal, and a thin layer of sweat appeared on his back.

Qi Xin was a mysterious figure, one of the strongest Primordial Elementals they had encountered. With Lu Xiaohe’s mother’s life hanging in the balance, this was indeed a rare opportunity. If they could keep her here, they could join forces to suppress Qi Xin.

However… there was an obvious difference between Qi Xin and Zhong Chengshuo. Although she was a Primordial Elemental, she possessed emotional intelligence close to that of an ordinary person.

He needed to choose a more suitable means of communication.

“That is… cough, I made a flesh puppet, from my own flesh and blood.” Yin Ren coughed loudly.

Qi Xin: “You call this a flesh puppet? Do you think I’m stupid?”


<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Access Denied Ch118

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/


Chapter 118: Birthday Gifts

Xu Kan sat in his favorite café for a long time.

As one grew older, the mind became less sharp than it was in youth. He had forgotten many things—he couldn’t remember when his wife had left, whether the accident had happened before or after his retirement. All he remembered was waking up and not seeing his wife anymore.

A blurry-faced doctor informed him that they had been in a car accident abroad and his wife had tragically passed away.

And his daughter… She was studying in another city. Unable to bear the pain of losing her mother, she had made up her mind to wander elsewhere. It had been a long time since she last came to see him, only occasional voice calls and brief videos.

Xu Kan touched his own hair—for someone approaching fifty, he still looked relatively young, with not many gray hairs and a sturdy physique. But when he calculated the time, his daughter was about to turn twenty-five.

Time passed so quickly.

From retiring from the Blackbirds to the occurrence of the accident, Xu Kan’s memories had become jumbled. However, over time, he gradually became accustomed to a life affected by the aftermath. His life wasn’t complicated—reading books, keeping up with the news, occasionally going to his favorite café to enjoy tea and coffee, exchanging a few words with strangers—and he was content.

Time had passed for too long, and his former comrades were scattered across the world, with only short greetings exchanged in writing.

The café was adorned with glass windows that were almost transparent to the point of nonexistence. The afternoon sunlight was warm and gentle. Xu Kan suddenly felt an inexplicable sadness. Everything in front of him seemed too unreal, and he felt disconnected from this scene.

He had thought about leaving this place, but every time he had that thought, his daughter’s messages would conveniently arrive, delicately expressing her hope that he would wait for her in their hometown. When he considered going to be with his daughter, she would always use the excuse of being busy with “studying and life.”

This year’s Reunion Festival, he couldn’t be sure if he would have to spend it through a video call. Xu Kan flipped through the book in his hand, unable to focus on a single word.

He had struggled for so many years in <Erosion>, but he had no one by his side. Today was his daughter’s birthday, and Xu Kan had deliberately chosen the best corner of the café, dressing up before leaving—just in case she had time for a video call, he wanted to be a cool father.

The café door opened, and the sound of high heels tapped on the floor. Xu Kan didn’t lift his head until those red high heels stopped in front of him.

“Dad,” the young woman said.

Xu Kan straightened up as if electrified and raised his head in disbelief.

After years of separation, his daughter’s appearance had become somewhat unfamiliar. She had exquisite makeup, a cold and sharp demeanor, and every movement she made was decisive. Xu Kan felt a bit dazed—his daughter seemed like a seasoned warrior.

“Dad, long time no see.” The woman sat across from him. “Do you like this surprise?”

A sour feeling surged in Xu Kan’s throat. “You little brat, you finally know to come back and visit your old man.”

Whether it was tears blurring his eyes or not, the woman’s expression instantly became complex—a mix of sadness and relief. She seemed sadder than him.

“…I found a job nearby, so it’s very convenient to see you from now on.” The woman sniffled. “You’ll probably find me annoying by then.”

Xu Kan wiped his face and let out a long breath. “My girl has grown up. Sijing, what kind of job did you find?”

The woman fell silent for a while. “Before we talk about that, there’s something I need to tell you.”

“What is it?”

“I changed my name, Dad. I don’t want to be… constantly bound by the past anymore, and you should let go too.”

Xu Kan was taken aback. “A perfectly good name, and you changed it just like that? Your mom—”

“‘Xia Jing’ definitely loved you. Now I can be sure that until she passed away, she never truly let go of you.” The woman took a deep breath. “But that’s all in the past, Dad. <Erosion> is closing down, and everything should come to an end.”

“Silly child, what are you saying? ‘Xia Jing’ was just the NPC name your mom was in charge of in <Erosion>. But since you don’t like it, well, that’s fine too. You’re grown up now and have your own thoughts… What name did you change to?”

“Xiaoxiao.” The woman curled her lips, her smile still tinged with a hint of sadness. “Dad, I became a doctor.”

This time, Xu Kan was even more stunned. He pondered for a while and then burst into laughter. “Indeed, you’re my daughter.”

“….?”

“I really like the name ‘Xiaoxiao’. Ah, it was back when I named you, wanting to commemorate my meeting with your mom… Maybe I should have called you ‘Xiaoxiao’ a long time ago. Don’t doubt it. Back when I was in <Erosion>, I met a very obedient little girl, and I gave her that name—”

Ai Xiaoxiao managed to maintain a smile, holding back her tears.

“I believe you,” she said. “…Dad.”

“Hm?”

“It’s nothing, I just wanted to call you that.”

“Oh, look at me, too caught up in talking. Now that you’re back, later I’ll take you to pick a gift. Whatever my girl wants, Dad will buy it for you, as a celebration for finding a good job.”

“I have something I want,” Ai Xiaoxiao said with reddened eyes. “Dad, can I take a photo with you? It’s been a long time since we… our family took a picture.”

Xu Kan was delighted, almost losing his bearings. He immediately stood up and shifted in his seat, making room in the best spot with sunlight. “Come, come, come. Dad couldn’t ask for anything more.”

The two of them squeezed into the corner of the café where the light was the strongest, closely huddled together, making the photo overflow with warmth.

“Dad.” Ai Xiaoxiao looked at Xu Kan frantically setting the screensaver and spoke with a hint of tears. “Thank you for the gift.”

“…I will accompany you for a lifetime.”

Two hours later, Ai Xiaoxiao stepped out of the hibernation pod. The photo remained in her database, and she projected it in the most prominent position in the medical hall.

“This is the first time I’ve seen you cry like this.” Seeing the other person shed tears, Xia Liang didn’t dare joke anymore. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

“That photo… um, the face on it is a bit different from yours. Are you sure you want to display it outside?”

“It’s just a virtual image. I’ll adjust the data gradually. His daughter never existed from the beginning, so there won’t be a problem.” Ai Xiaoxiao took a tissue and wiped her nose. After drying her tears, she looked at the hibernation pod beside her.

The real Xu Kan in the real world—a quiet, liquid-like organism—was sleeping peacefully. Its body had a bit more color, but its form remained largely unchanged.

After the war, she tried countless methods. With the assistance of the command center, she could cure humans severely affected by erosion, stabilize the synthesis of human DNA, and let them live healthy lives. However, she couldn’t save the synths who had completely lost their forms.

She could only let them live a normal human lifespan, nothing more.

Ai Xiaoxiao raised her head, observing the modified “Bellflower” working quietly. Once today passed, the machinery in the command center would officially stop running. Starting from today, more than a hundred people, including Xu Kan, would officially return to synth society.

Handling intelligence might be a bit troublesome, but fortunately, the current leader had an efficient assistant—Tang Heyu had become the head of the research institute in the command center, and the old man loved tinkering with these things.

“After all this effort, synths still prefer this setup.” Xia Liang took a sip of her drink. “With the improved environment, I thought they wouldn’t immerse themselves in the virtual world anymore.”

“These hundred-plus people can only live on ‘the other side’. For the remaining thirty thousand, this can be considered a kind of farewell.” Ai Xiaoxiao caressed the lid of the hibernation pod. “The construction of X City will take time, and returning to ‘that side’ can also be seen as a form of decompression activity.”

“True. At least this time, the game is a true game.” Xia Liang finished her drink and smacked her lips.

“…I was just about to ask, are you so free? I don’t have time to fool around with you. Go back quickly.”

“Don’t be mean. I don’t have to perform now.” Xia Liang feigned tears. “You’re my only friend for life. Can’t I come and visit you?”

“I know you don’t need to pretend, but now the Xia family is under your control, right?” Ai Xiaoxiao clicked her tongue. “Marshal Xia, if you continue to loaf around, Zhu Yanchen will definitely take you down.”

“Tsk. I’ve checked his schedule. Mr. Zhu is having a sweet date outside, so why can’t I come out to hang out—”

“Hang out?” Ai Xiaoxiao’s gaze instantly sharpened.

“Just come out for a stroll—a stroll.” Xia Liang smiled brighter than flowers. “Oh, it’s been over half a year. Why are they still so clingy! It’s outrageous, let me tell you—”

Xia Liang’s gossip didn’t reach the ears of the people involved.

Zhu Yanchen had his eyes blindfolded, sitting in the back seat with a bewildered expression. Shu Jun happily hummed a tune, almost causing the car to take off in place.

Most of the erosion had retreated underwater, and the eroded land gradually recovered. Wild grass gradually covered the ground, mice scurried around in the bushes, and colorful birds perched on branches. The sky was a brilliant blue without a trace of clouds, and all the colors seemed more vibrant.

But there was a cost—the ground beneath the tires was no longer soft muddy soil but uneven terrain. The car sped like a crazy dog, and Zhu Yanchen, despite his extensive battle experience, almost vomited from the dizziness.

Leader Zhu clutched his pocket in pain, struggling to maintain an upright posture. He missed the time when the two of them could freely fly, but unfortunately, Shu Jun was technically in hibernation, and the surrounding surveillance stations were dense. They had to travel in a conventional manner.

“We’re almost there,” Shu Jun comforted him. “I, uh, I drove a bit fast. A’Yan, bear with it for a few more minutes.”

“Mmgh…”

Finally, the car came to a stop. Zhu Yanchen lay in the back seat for a while in a position reminiscent of a coffin, then got up.

Shu Jun didn’t remove the blindfold, instead gripping Zhu Yanchen’s hand tightly and leading him forward. “A’Yan, on your last birthday, resources were limited, so I didn’t give you a gift… Do you remember?”

“I remember.” Zhu Yanchen’s voice was serious. “I remember very clearly.”

Shu Jun took a sharp breath. “Don’t make it sound like you’re holding a grudge, okay? Come, come, come, let me make up for the gift.”

He happily removed Zhu Yanchen’s blindfold, spreading his arms to showcase—

…A muddy field.

Zhu Yanchen’s gaze shifted from the left to the right of the field, then from the right to the left. He carefully examined it for a while, but only saw a large expanse of bare mud.

Shu Jun’s face twitched. He turned around in place, then carefully moved his body aside.

Just as Shu Jun moved, Zhu Yanchen’s gaze locked onto it—the center of the brown-black mud, two bellflowers bloomed. Whether it was the variety or the color, they resembled the ones they had raised in their childhood.

“I originally wanted to show you a field of flowers.” Shu Jun scratched his head in embarrassment. “Ai Xiaoxiao improved the seeds and shortened the growth period. I cleaned up the erosion from this area, but I failed because I lacked experience in planting… This thing isn’t as reliable as data in the virtual world, and in the end, only two plants survived.”

He stole a glance at Zhu Yanchen’s expression and cleared his throat on purpose. “If we replant another batch, your next birthday will have already passed! Then you’ll miss out on a gift for no reason. So, I…”

Shu Jun didn’t manage to finish his sentence.

Zhu Yanchen embraced his waist and kissed him earnestly. The kiss lasted long enough for Shu Jun to start making muffled sounds from his throat, and his hands became restless.

However, Zhu Yanchen firmly gripped his wrist.

“A’Yan?”

“I happen to have a gift too.” Zhu Yanchen released Shu Jun’s waist and took out a prepared small box from his pocket, handing it to Shu Jun with solemnity.

Shu Jun raised an eyebrow and opened the unremarkable box, then gasped—

Inside the box lay two rings in silence. The two rings were exactly the same in style, without any gemstone embellishments. One of the rings was entirely black, with a warm hue, while the other had been carefully polished and emitted a radiant white light.

Zhu Yanchen reached out and took the black one, wearing it on his left ring finger.

Shu Jun: “…”

Shu Jun: “Wait, what does this mean?”

“It’s a formal response,” Zhu Yanchen replied seriously. “Didn’t you confess to me in front of all the humans back then?”

“No, this…”

“You’re not agreeing?”

“It’s not a matter of agreeing or not!” Shu Jun picked up the ring, his expression somewhat dazed. “Is this it? Is it over? A’Yan, not to say anything, but when I confessed, I made a big scene—”

“Mm.” Zhu Yanchen carefully dug out the two bellflowers and headed towards the car.

“Hey, hey, why are you leaving? How could I possibly not agree? Even if we become an old married couple, we still need some sense of ceremony—”

“Come with me.” This time, Zhu Yanchen got into the driver’s seat and glanced at Shu Jun. “I won’t blindfold you.”

The car started, and it was a long journey once again. Zhu Yanchen drove the car extremely steadily, while Shu Jun gazed at the ring on his ring finger throughout the entire journey, occasionally murmuring to himself. Eventually, he fell asleep.

When the car stopped silently, Shu Jun woke up in a daze, with the sound of waves rolling into his ears.

On the cliff by the seaside stood a beautiful small house. Judging from its style and paint, the house was probably recently built. Monday proudly stood by the seaside, its size having grown significantly, almost matching the size of the house.

Shu Jun guessed most of it in his heart and quietly followed behind Zhu Yanchen. He mentally prepared himself, but when the door opened, he still almost exclaimed in surprise—

The interior decoration and items in the house were almost identical to their home on “the other side”.

“When the reconstruction of Y City was nearing completion, I secretly modified a few construction machines,” Zhu Yanchen said softly as he placed the two bellflowers into an empty flowerpot and put it on a sunny windowsill. “I restored the furniture and electrical appliances one by one… with the help of Mr. Tang and the others. In short…”

His voice grew smaller, and he spun the black ring on his finger round and round.

“I had Ai Xiaoxiao examine my body. Part of my body is sustained by erosion, and it will age, but the process will become very slow.” It seemed like he had made a decision, and his voice became clear again. “Shu Jun, we can still be with each other for a long time. In another ten years, when I step down from my position as the leader, this place will be our…”

His ears turned red, and his voice took another roller coaster-like dip.

“…Our home.”

Shu Jun covered his eyes with his hand and suddenly laughed. “I was wondering what it was… A’Yan, with your proposal turning out like this, could it be that you’re shy?”

“It’s true that I’m a bit nervous,” Zhu Yanchen admitted with a serious expression.

“This isn’t just nervousness; we call it being shy.” Shu Jun decisively took off the ring and removed the one from Zhu Yanchen’s finger. “Come on, let me demonstrate—A’Yan, marry me. Next year, I will definitely make the flower field happen.”

Zhu Yanchen’s expression became somewhat subtle. Before he could speak, Shu Jun continued in rapid succession, “If you don’t want to marry, it’s okay. Just marry me.”

“Ten years, right? By then, I’ll retire with you. As for during work, this place is a great vacation spot. Mm, it would also be suitable for holding a wedding. We can have a belated celebration then.”

With that said, Shu Jun narrowed his eyes and kissed the back of Zhu Yanchen’s hand. “So, what do you say? Will you spend the rest of your life with me?”

Zhu Yanchen pursed his lips, gently prying Shu Jun’s hand open. He reclaimed his own ring, swiftly slipped it back onto his finger, and carefully put the white wedding ring on Shu Jun’s finger.

“Of course,” Zhu Yanchen said with utmost solemnity.

“It’s a pity we don’t have any food; otherwise, we could have cooked a meal. Ah, right, there’s food in the car. Let’s go and get it.” Shu Jun waved his hand with the ring, lowering his voice. “After we finish eating… we need to test the bedding here. The backseat of the car is too narrow.”

Zhu Yanchen’s gaze remained fixated on the ring, and he lifted his head, revealing an incredibly satisfied smile.

However, they weren’t the only ones hungry.

Seeing its two guardians at the door, Monday couldn’t contain its excitement, opening its mouth, eagerly waiting for some erosion candies. But those two scoundrels entered the house and started talking to themselves, completely ignoring it.

Monday’s anticipation gradually turned into anger.

It extended one of its erosion tendrils, sneaked onto the balcony, and began chewing the leaves of the two bellflowers one by one. Chewing here, biting there, it was quite satisfied.

On that day, the observers at the coastal monitoring station reported that the newborn Sigma emitted a loud scream for unknown reasons. Shortly after, the scream turned into a whimper of grievance. After a wave of chewing sound waves passed, the whimper transformed into contented murmurs.

What happened to the newborn Sigma that day remains a mystery to this day.


The author has something to say:

The main story has come to an end (:D 」∠)

This is my first attempt at writing a story of this length, and the pacing was faster than before. I learned a lot from this experience and also stumbled into some pitfalls (?) I will take the lessons and continue to work hard! XD

Lastly, I apologize for the significant delay in updates due to my recent health issues. (:з」∠)


Kinky Thoughts:

This marks the end of the main story. If you like the author, I have done other works by her (Stray, Happy Doomsday, and Evil As Humans) that you should check out. I highly recommend Stray, as that is the work I discovered her from.

It seems that Nian Zhong tried a new writing style with Access Denied. I can’t say if I like it or not. Compared to her other work, this one I felt was too rushed, and many things were glossed over and smoothly resolved within a few paragraphs (very unlike her other work where plotlines are slowly developed).

I also think due to this, character development (especially for the side characters) wasn’t very fleshed out. Having read her other works, this certainly had a different style that I can’t say I like.

Overall, I did like the story, though not as much as her other works. The story was quite action-packed and definitely a page-turner. I just wish things were more detailed and developed more slowly. I could’ve read over 50 chapters just about their childhood past. I’m a sucker for childhood sweethearts.

Nevertheless, if you enjoyed it, please consider supporting the author by buying the raws. I used Google Chrome with their auto translate and this guide on how to buy novels on jjwxc. Remember, only with your (financial) support can artists continue to produce more great works.

I would also like to thank everyone for your comments, encouragement, help with my translations, and ko-fi donations. It in part fuels my motivation to release so frequently and try to finish this novel as soon as possible.

With that, there are still a few extras left.


<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Sendoff Ch36

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/


Chapter 36: Fire of Retribution

The roots of the tree formed a towering statue that looked down upon them. Shi Jingzhi had a strange illusion at that moment—they resembled crickets trapped in a jar, being observed from the outside.

Fortunately, none of the statues, regardless of which deity they represented, showed any signs of movement. Shi Jingzhi trembled in place for a while and gradually resigned himself to the situation.

He might as well see it to the end*. He took a few steps and reached for the lantern.

*(一不做二不休) Idiom referring to being determined and resolute in pursuing a course of action without hesitation or compromise (AKA to be in for a penny, in for a pound).

The scene before them was horrifying, and the young girl’s legs went weak from fear. Finally encountering a living person, she immediately clung tightly to Shi Jingzhi’s thigh, crying so hard that she almost fainted.

Since seeing the root statue, Yin Ci had been frozen in place. It was only when he heard the terrified cries of the young girl that he managed to regain his composure.

“That Great Goddess is a liar,” Yin Deng cried hoarsely. “Sister is here, and brother is here too. They never ascended to immortality.”

Shi Jingzhi and Yin Ci exchanged glances.

Shi Jingzhi: “Don’t cry… Yin Deng, how did you come down? Do you remember?”

“I… I dreamt that my sister was crying, and I wanted to comfort her. But it seemed like she couldn’t see me, so I wanted to get closer, even closer.”

Summoning up her courage, Yin Deng lifted her head slightly and pointed to the stone platform closest to the statue.

“When I fell, I woke up. Brother saved me. He’s here…”

Previously captivated by the giant root statue, the two finally noticed the stone platforms around them.

Each small platform still had a flesh idol standing on it.

They all faced the central stone platform, resembling a hundred birds facing a phoenix. Compared to the one in the middle, they were much smaller and less exquisite. The small statues were also supported by human bones, but they were crudely made, with many distorted and deformed details, almost like…

“Trial versions,” Yin Ci whispered softly. “They are the draft of an idol.”

The situation became much clearer now—someone had built flesh idols at the bottom of this forbidden area, and they had put in a lot of effort. These statues were based on the giant root statue, and countless idols were made during the production process to ensure a flawless final product.

Thick white cloth was piled under the trial versions, and several chains were coiled around them. No wonder Su Si said the “white-clothed monsters” had their internal organs exposed; they were originally made of living flesh. The deformed flesh statues weren’t presentable, so they were wrapped in white cloth and tightly bound with ropes.

After being used as draft models, they could also serve as puppets. This “immortal” scheme was well thought out.

Considering that the residents of Yuanxian Village were completely unaware of all this, there was only one person who could have done such a thing—

In this situation, undoubtedly, it was the work of the Goddess.

But why did she create such monstrous images? What was the purpose of the flesh statues? The giant root statue was covered in climbing vines and seemed to have a history of hundreds of years, but where did it come from?

Yin Ci had wandered the mortal realm for over three hundred years, and instead of everything becoming clear, it only grew darker. Apart from monsters and Monster Material, he seemed to know nothing about the “other side” of the world.

The current scene was more absurd than his nightmare.

Thinking of the nightmare, Yin Ci couldn’t help but touch his face. This time, his facial features were intact, and there were no strange roots on his face. The familiar sensation of the ghostskin robe came through his fingers.

Shi Jingzhi remained silent for a long time. Finally, he squeezed out a bit of composure from the depths of his bones, half-squatted down, and placed his hands on Yin Deng’s shoulders.

“Yin Deng, you just said, ‘Sister is here, and brother is here’… Can you communicate with them?”

Yin Deng vigorously shook her head, wiping away the tears on her face. “They can’t—they can’t speak. But I just know.”

She pointed to the flesh idol on the central stone platform and then pointed to a draft model not far away. “That’s sister, and that’s brother. I can feel that they are here.”

Perhaps this was what people referred to when they said that human children had spiritual senses that weren’t completely closed. It was unclear how this child could recognize the statues, as all of them were bloody and indistinguishable.

Yin Ci quickly calculated in his mind.

As long as they brought Yin Deng up and exposed one of the white-clothed monsters in public, the villagers would undoubtedly notice something was wrong—then they could ignite the situation, and at least someone would willingly help them get out.

That was also one way.

…But the problem they had to worry about at the moment wasn’t that.

The Goddess knew the secrets beneath the forbidden area, yet she still allowed them to enter. It might not be so easy to leave if they wanted to.

Shi Jingzhi was evidently considering similar matters. He paced in circles, trying his best to ignore the flesh statues around them.

“A’Ci, let me carry you on my back, and you hold onto Yin Deng. Let’s try climbing back up… and see…” His eyes caught something in the corner, and he froze in place. The latter half of his sentence trembled more and more as he spoke, eventually ending in a groan.

Following Shi Jingzhi’s gaze, Yin Deng let out an inhuman scream and fainted in fright—

The giant root statue slowly moved—no, it wasn’t the statue itself, but a massive worm monster emerging from within the roots. The giant worm twisted and slid around the statue, causing a cascade of soil and stones. After a moment, it settled in place, with its head hanging down towards the group. At first glance, it looked like rotten intestines coiled around the giant root statue.

Who the hell knew which rule they had broken to disturb this thing.

Being closer, the master and disciple had no choice but got a clearer view.

The body of the giant worm was reddish-brown, with a rough and tough outer skin that resembled old tree bark. It had three pitch-black holes on its head, devoid of eyeballs. The gaps between the holes were split into three segments, resembling the divisions of a human head. Within the gaps, uneven and densely packed yellowish teeth grew, resembling human teeth. Muddy yellow saliva mixed with soil dripped down steadily.

The giant worm coiled around the tunnel, sealing off the rock wall tightly. The long, hand-like objects were scraped off, allowing them to finally see their true nature.

They were worm eggs.

The insect eggs were about half the size of a person, with hard spindle-shaped shells. One end could easily penetrate the soil and rocks, while the other end was connected to long, arm-like structures that allowed them to crawl freely. They numbered in the thousands and were quietly embedded behind the root deity statue. Now, swept away by the giant worm, the insect eggs fell continuously into the water.

The insect eggs seemed uninterested in the flesh in the pool. They surged in groups, piercing into the thick skin of the giant worm, and the deformed hands flailed about randomly.

Unfortunately, this heartwarming reunion of parent and child didn’t touch Shi Jingzhi. Fox Shi’s eyes darted around, as if he wished to end it all right there.

In comparison, the white-clothed monsters seemed quite pleasant.

But it was too late; they had long lost their way out.

Shi Jingzhi attempted to use his yang fire to cover the flag, but he himself felt like a damp matchstick, unable to produce a single spark. The giant worm opened its mouth full of teeth, and Shi Jingzhi looked like he was about to vomit again.

Yin Ci was helpless. “Shizun!”

Hearing his disciple’s cry, Shi Jingzhi regained some clarity. He gritted his teeth, wrapped the unconscious Yin Deng and the Hanging Shadow Sword together, and handed them to Yin Ci. “Since you don’t have inner force, take good care of her and hide!”

This was indeed a reasonable plan.

Faced with such a huge monster, the lack of inner force could be fatal. Shi Jingzhi could still rely on brute force to fight it, but until they discovered the giant worm’s weakness, Yin Ci could only make superficial attacks on it.

Yin Ci held Yin Deng in one arm and wielded his sword in the other, quickly jumping off the stone platform.

Shi Jingzhi, on the other hand, awkwardly leaped up and barely clung to the surface of the giant worm. In the next instant, countless insect eggs reached out towards him, visibly exploding.

The yang fire blazed, instantly igniting the long arms of the insect eggs. With a series of popping sounds, they emitted an indescribable stench. The giant worm was burned by the yang fire and struggled against the cave wall.

Shi Jingzhi inserted his flag into its thick skin, barely stabilizing himself. Yin Ci took advantage of the geography and hid beneath a withered lotus leaf in the corner, ensuring that Yin Deng wouldn’t be affected by the giant worm.

The insect eggs suffered heavy casualties, but the giant worm only sustained minor injuries. Shi Jingzhi pitifully poked at the worm’s body, resembling an ant trying to bite an elephant to death. The giant worm grew annoyed by this persistent ant. Seeing that scraping against the rock wall was ineffective, it began to curl its body and vigorously strike the wall, intending to crush the bothersome ant.

The entire forbidden area shook and rumbled as it struck, causing more intact insect eggs to fall, nearly pushing Yin Ci into the water.

It was a pity.

If Shi Jingzhi’s external martial arts were sufficient or if he could control his power with ease, this giant worm wouldn’t be his opponent. However, Shi Jingzhi had limited combat experience and was still at the stage of begging for food while holding a golden bowl*, completely unaware of how to wield his strength.

*Metaphor for having good conditions but not making good use of them and doing nothing.

After contemplating for a long time, Yin Ci couldn’t find the weakness of the worm monster either. One had the will but not the power, while the other had the power but not the will—they would only be consumed by this creature.

Yin Deng’s injuries were peculiar, and she was an important witness. She absolutely must not die down there.

In order to ensure that everyone survived, there was only one path left to take—Yin Ci had to provoke this fox.

From Yin Ci’s observation, Shi Jingzhi was most afraid of two things. First, being unable to survive, and second, losing his disciple. Currently, his fear of death was having the opposite effect, causing Shi Jingzhi to hesitate and not take action.

He needed to administer a strong stimulus to ignite that madness once again.

Just at that moment, Shi Jingzhi couldn’t hold on any longer and crashed onto the stone platform. He fell heavily and immediately coughed up a mouthful of blood. The giant worm had no intention of letting him struggle for his life, and it was about to crush him.

Yin Ci placed Yin Deng on a withered lotus leaf and rushed towards the stone platform. He held onto Shi Jingzhi, tiptoed, and both of them hung onto the stalk of an outer lotus leaf, barely stabilizing their bodies.

The giant worm brushed past the master and disciple, crashing into the stone platform where Shi Jingzhi had originally been, shattering the pillars. The broken stones shot into the shallow pool, and blood mixed with dust floated up. The draft model idol that originally stood on the stone platform was crushed into flesh and mud by the creature. It slipped back into the pool miserably, leaving a trail of blood, making the shallow pool even murkier.

“A’Ci?” Shi Jingzhi hadn’t come to his senses yet.

“Shizun, look, that thing only dares to attack the white-clothed monsters and doesn’t dare to touch the central flesh idol.” Time was of the essence, so Yin Ci got straight to the point. “Remember where you landed earlier.”

Shi Jingzhi deeply glanced at him and didn’t dawdle any longer. He grabbed the flag again and rushed out.

With a foothold, his attacks gradually became more systematic. The giant worm had been harassed by Shi Jingzhi for a long time, sustaining more and more burns on its body. It couldn’t bear it any longer, and it was growing more and more restless. Yin Ci took Yin Deng farther away and intentionally moved closer to the center of the battlefield. He made up his mind to act as a lively fish in the pond, waiting to be affected by Shi Jingzhi’s actions.

In the end, Yin Ci was indeed drawn into the battle, but it didn’t go exactly as he had planned—

Shi Jingzhi’s battle was reaching its climax. With one final blow, he could kill this worm monster.

The creature, fed up with Shi Jingzhi’s constant harassment, sustained more and more injuries. It couldn’t bear it any longer and was about to unleash a devastating strike, but suddenly, it froze in midair. After a moment, it curled up into a ring and rigidly crashed down, narrowly avoiding hitting the central stone lotus blossom in the forbidden area.

“I wondered why it was shaking so violently. It’s quite impressive that you survived for so long under the protection of the root burrower.” A cold voice resounded.

Just before the worm monster went berserk, the Goddess descended from the sky.

The insect eggs intertwined with each other, forming a net of hands that held her in mid-air. She glanced at the chaotic bottom of the forbidden place and raised her hand, releasing a spell. A tree root shot out from the stone wall, poking a large hole in the giant worm’s body.

“These foolish creatures truly lack intelligence. They almost ruined my plans.”

The giant worm screamed in pain and didn’t dare to move. The insect eggs seemed to have received some instruction. They swarmed together, intertwining their arms and hoisting the central flesh idol in mid-air, suspending it in a safe position.

Shi Jingzhi had been locked in a battle with the giant worm for a long time and had reached the end of his strength. He gasped for breath as the yang fire on his flag flickered, ultimately failing to stop those arms.

With the flesh idol gone, only a pool of living flesh remained by Shi Jingzhi’s side. Without any vulnerabilities, the Goddess’s killing intent spread like a tidal wave.

Fortunately, compared to the giant worm, the Goddess looked completely normal, and Shi Jingzhi’s courage returned somewhat. He glanced at Yin Ci’s hiding place and provocatively said, “So you decided to come down after all. Why bother? If you had come earlier to save Yin Deng, everything would have been fine.”

The Goddess sneered. “You little brat certainly have a sharp tongue. At the brink of death, you still want to protect others?”

Another tree root sinisterly pierced out, directly aiming for Shi Jingzhi. Just as he was about to adopt a defensive stance, the root suddenly changed its trajectory, accelerating abruptly and crashing into the edge where Yin Ci was hiding, forcefully pushing him into the depths of the pool and burying him in the flesh mud.

Bubbles emerged from the murky pool bottom, releasing a burst of blood, and then everything fell silent. The water surface quickly returned to calm, but Yin Ci didn’t resurface. He couldn’t struggle, not even a little.

Shi Jingzhi hadn’t anticipated that she would target his disciple. His entire being froze like ice.

The sound of water had long ceased, the giant worm no longer screamed, and there was silence all around. Shi Jingzhi felt somewhat lost. This moment was too abrupt, too fast for him to react or even confirm what had happened.

He tightly grasped the flag in his hand—although he had burned the giant worm all over, just a little more effort and they would have won. Then he could have dragged Yin Ci back to the ground, scolded him thoroughly, or perhaps even given him a beating. After dealing with this disobedient disciple, the Kushan Sect could find another way out…

They were so close to victory.

But the appearance of the Goddess completely shattered Shi Jingzhi’s joy. It was like climbing to the mountaintop in a blizzard, exhausting all his strength, only to be pushed down into the abyss by a single step.

Shi Jingzhi felt chills all over his body.

If only the Goddess had arrived a step earlier, he wouldn’t have entertained such unrealistic illusions. If she had arrived a step later, they would have already escaped from the giant worm and could have found another path. Why? Why did she have to come at this very moment?

Why did she have to casually destroy his things in front of him?

That uncontrollable emotion surged once again. Resentment, grievance, fear, and hatred mixed together, and Shi Jingzhi was too exhausted and too heartbroken. This time, he let go of the reins and no longer tried to control it.

Finally, the desire for survival ignited madness, intertwining together. A strong aura of malevolence burst forth from the depths of his weary bones.

The golden flames turned into spears, soaring into the sky.

The web of hands instantly turned to ashes. The Goddess was caught off guard, narrowly avoiding being consumed by the sea of flames. A thin root promptly caught her, saving her from being directly scorched by the flames.

Shi Jingzhi stood on the central stone platform with a blank expression and disheveled hair. The unparalleled oppressive sensation erupted once again, like a young dragon venturing into the sea or a young tiger roaring in the mountains. The draft model idols on the stone platform were pushed by the wind and fell into the water, creating numerous dazzling water splashes.

Fortunately, Shi Jingzhi remembered Yin Deng, and the whirlwind around him scattered but didn’t harm the edges.

It was said that one force could suppress ten*. Shi Jingzhi didn’t use any spells or martial arts techniques. With this almost terrifying strength alone, he indiscriminately destroyed everything above the forbidden area.

*Metaphor referring to a single individual’s power or ability is so exceptional that they can easily overcome or dominate a group of ten opponents.

The flames burned fiercer and fiercer.

The forbidden area was narrow, and the golden flames were at their peak. The Goddess struggled to evade, looking quite miserable. The heat in the air was terrifying, making it impossible to breathe normally. Her hair ends were charred, and her ethereal sleeves and skirt turned into ashes. However, with the flesh idol by her side, she didn’t dare to abandon it and escape. Instead, she futilely erected layer after layer of barriers, attempting to gain a moment of respite.

Finally, the golden flames reached the upper half of the goddess’s body. Just when she had no retreat, she opened her mouth and shouted loudly, seemingly calling for help from someone invisible. However, Shi Jingzhi’s senses were in chaos, and he couldn’t catch a single word.

All he saw was more tree roots curling over, separating the Goddess from the flames. Strangely enough, the golden flames also struck those roots, but the roots remained unscathed.

The giant worm wasn’t as fortunate. It couldn’t withstand the overwhelming golden flames. Its surface turned charred black and cracked, half-roasted while still alive.

Unfortunately, no matter how extraordinary Shi Jingzhi’s talent was, he was ultimately a mortal with a physical body. The uncontrolled yang fire had burned for a long time and gradually weakened.

But the Goddess didn’t fall.

“I underestimated you.”

Confirming that the flesh idol beside her was also protected by roots and unharmed, the Goddess disregarded her own damaged body and let out a sigh of relief. At this moment, half of her body was swollen with a dark red color, devoid of any divine aura and instead resembling an evil spirit that had infiltrated the mortal realm.

“…Humans are not gods, and their energy is limited. Even if you can still stand after using that move just now, it’s worth praising.”

Shi Jingzhi held the “Medicine Cures Illness” flag, but he couldn’t move an inch. His face was as pale as gold, sweat was pouring down, and his lips were devoid of color.

She wasn’t wrong. This time, he had almost depleted all his energy, and even breathing became extremely difficult.

However, despite suffering such a great loss, the Goddess didn’t show any resentment on her face. Instead, a hint of strange joy appeared. “Although you’ve turned this place upside down, you have quite a strong connection to the divine. Can’t you handle that pool of materials by yourself?”

Shi Jingzhi stared at her with anger, unable to muster the strength to speak. He could only exert his last bit of strength, straighten his posture, and force himself to stand.

The Goddess didn’t expect him to answer. She snorted coldly, lifted her right hand, and several tree roots surged towards them like living creatures. It seemed that they were about to entangle around him—

Ding.

The tree roots collided with a sword blade, producing a somewhat crisp sound.

An arm hooked around Shi Jingzhi’s waist, pulling him backward. The black blade flashed once again, sweeping away a malicious tree root. Shi Jingzhi slowly turned his head and saw a face that was both unfamiliar and familiar.

As cold as snow, peerlessly beautiful.

Underneath the Ghost Tomb, they had met once before.

Shi Jingzhi understood. The person in white was neither an “enemy” nor a “senior” he had caught a glimpse of. At this moment, the person used a voice that he was familiar with, but the warmth in the voice had vanished, leaving only ruthlessness and arrogance.

“It’s a pity about my ghostskin robe.”

The person whispered in his ear.

“Shizun, since I brought you in, I will definitely send you out… Don’t be angry about this matter, okay?”


The author has something to say:

Demonic Lord Yin: As long as I have the initiative, this layer of my little vest is not considered to be taken off*! (?

*Clarity: It’s an online term referring to “stripping the vest”. When someone has more than 2 IDs on a registered forum, the most commonly used or well-known ID is called the main ID, while the other IDs are called vest IDs. || In this case, Yin Ci has revealed his true form to Shi Jingzhi, but he’s not revealing his true identity so it’s not considered “stripping the vest”.

Fox Shi: ?????

Fox Shi: (Takes out a little notebook and starts recording the number of lessons owed by the disciple)


<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Sendoff Ch35

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/


Chapter 35: The Idol

At present, the master wasn’t going mad, and the disciple wasn’t drowning either. Shi Jingzhi suppressed his anger, refraining from even grabbing Yin Ci’s hand as they walked into the pitch-black forbidden area.

Yin Ci remained vigilant, sensing the trembling in Shi Jingzhi’s footsteps, but he felt that the level of caution was somewhat exaggerated.

Now, he didn’t care about inquiring into the origins of his cheap master; he was more interested in knowing what kind of being his cheap master was.

The two of them remained in this tense atmosphere, each standing a step apart, neither uttering a word.

The forbidden area at night had no trace of light and was even darker than the Ghost Tomb. The stone steps under their feet were covered in moss and were incredibly slippery. Yin Ci had obtained a lantern from the villagers and walked cautiously. It was difficult to imagine how a child could walk with closed eyes in such a place.

When performing a play, one must act the part convincingly. Yin Ci would take a step and then pause, shining the light on each stone chamber on the cave wall.

The small chambers were almost empty, with at most some remnants of clothing or gold and silver jewelry. Not to mention corpses, they couldn’t even find a single bone.

Last time, there were too many people during the funeral, and they couldn’t observe carefully. But now, upon closer inspection, even the Paper Figurine Street was infested with bugs and rodents, yet the forbidden area was devoid of even half of a creature.

It was unclear whether it had a connection to the outside world or if spells didn’t work here, but the entire deep pit was cold and silent, like newly formed thin ice on the water’s surface, with the air frozen solid.

There was no trace of light anywhere.

The two of them wandered around, walking until they reached the end of the stone steps. The end of the steps was particularly cold, with a thin layer of ice forming on the surface of the stone, making it even more difficult to walk.

Yin Ci specifically glanced at Auntie Liu’s stone chamber, and indeed, it was empty. Only a few pieces of clothing were haphazardly mixed together, exuding a hint of sorrowful coldness.

“Neither Yin Deng nor Bai Wei are up here.” Shi Jingzhi cleared his throat. “The situation downstairs is strange. You should follow me back… Huh?!”

Suddenly, the last few stone slabs sank downward, disappearing into thin air. A cold sensation came from behind the two, and their feet were suspended in mid-air as they fell straight down.

Yin Ci leaned closer to the rock wall, grabbing Shi Jingzhi’s wrist with one hand and reaching for the edge of a stone chamber with the other.

He didn’t care about himself, but if Shi Jingzhi were to fall, he would become a lump of fox meat. Yin Ci might be seeking death, but he hadn’t planned on dragging another companion along on the journey to the underworld.

Besides, he might not necessarily die.

Yin Ci firmly held onto the stone platform, gradually regaining his strength, when he suddenly felt an unfamiliar sensation on the back of his hand.

Something was caressing his hand.

Yin Ci raised his head abruptly, squinting his eyes. The lantern had fallen not far above, and there was still a flicker of fire, allowing him to vaguely make out the situation—

A hand reached out from within the stone chamber.

…They had just checked a moment ago, and all the stone chambers were empty.

But that hand did exist. It was extremely withered, resembling a dried corpse, and its shape was quite peculiar, with fingers longer than those of an ordinary person.

The touch of the hand was icy cold and dry, without a hint of warmth.

The hand stretched out from the depths of the stone chamber, resembling the delicate legs of a spider. It bent at an angle that didn’t conform to human structure, gently prying open Yin Ci’s fingers.

Yin Ci remained silent as he slid down quietly. He feared that if Shi Jingzhi saw this thing, he would be frightened out of his wits, and saving him would be even more troublesome.

Shi Jingzhi simply assumed that Yin Ci couldn’t bear his weight. Taking advantage of the situation, he adjusted his posture and thrust the flag forward. The clear silver bamboo pole lit by the yang fire was inserted into the stone wall like a block of tofu.

The two of them descended for a while, awkwardly suspended in mid-air. They had an intimate encounter with the white-robed creature hanging on the wall. As they drew closer, the stench of blood and flesh became even more pronounced. The white-robed creature remained motionless, yet possessed a warmth reminiscent of a living person, making them extremely uncomfortable.

Shi Jingzhi’s expression fluctuated, seemingly wanting to let go and be done with it.

On the other hand, Yin Ci firmly held onto the chain, suspending himself together with the white-robed creature.

“Shizun, what should we do?”

With the situation urgent, Shi Jingzhi no longer held a grudge against his disciple. After steadying his emotions for a moment, his whole body burst into yang fire, illuminating the area above them.

His original intention seemed to be to illuminate the surroundings, figure out how far they had slipped, and calculate the distance to climb back. However, as soon as he shed light on the situation, Shi Jingzhi saw it too clearly.

Numerous long and slender hands extended from various stone chambers, forming a web above them, clearly indicating that they were not meant to ascend.

Now things were even worse. Shi Jingzhi, who was unprepared, trembled all over. He slid down a section of the bamboo pole, almost falling straight down. Yin Ci grabbed him and said with great seriousness, “Since we can’t go up for the time being, we might as well go down and take a look.”

Shi Jingzhi gulped and swallowed his saliva. “A’Ci, are you serious?”

The forbidden area was within reach, and Yin Ci couldn’t be bothered to act or beat around the bush. He got straight to the point. “The Goddess has become wary of both of us. Even if we manage to escape now, it will be difficult to obtain any other information. Shizun, since we’ve come…”

Shi Jingzhi couldn’t decide whether the terrifying aspect was the hand web above or his disciple saying “since we’ve come” in the face of this situation.

However, what Yin Ci said was indeed reasonable. If they didn’t enter the tiger’s den, how could they catch the tiger’s cub? Shi Jingzhi didn’t want to spend the rest of his life in Yuanxian Village. He looked up at the hand web and took a deep breath. “Lend me the Hanging Shadow Sword.”

The two of them awkwardly switched positions in midair. Shi Jingzhi held the “Medicine Cures Illness” flag in one hand and the Hanging Shadow Sword in the other, alternating between inserting them into the rock wall, steadily descending. Yin Ci embraced his master’s neck, keeping a vigilant eye on their surroundings.

The further down they went, the more white-robed creatures there were. They hung silently at the ends of iron chains, varying in size from dozens to hundreds. As they delved deeper, the stench of rotting flesh grew stronger, making them nauseous.

It was unknown whether Fox Shi’s nose could withstand it.

After climbing down for an unknown length of time, the two of them finally caught sight of a faint glimmer.

They had reached the bottom of this bottomless forbidden area. From a distance, they could see countless peculiar-shaped objects at the bottom of the pit, resembling enormous withered lotus leaves. A jade-green liquid flowed out from an unknown source, winding its way down and forming a thin layer of water at the bottom of the forbidden area, reflecting a soft shimmering blue light.

The bottom of the water was covered in dark-colored silt, seemingly mixed with something, but from their distance, the two couldn’t make out the details.

In the center of the shallow pond, surrounded by these numerous “lotus leaves” stood a deformed “lotus pod” made of stone.

Its convex and concave shape was opposite to that of an ordinary lotus pod. It resembled an empty bowl, filled with a luminous green liquid. Several cylindrical stone platforms stood within the bowl with their tops protruding above the liquid surface, varying in size. From top to bottom, they vaguely resembled dark “lotus seeds”.

Occasionally, liquid overflowed from the edge of the stone lotus seed. It flowed intermittently, cascading into the water below, creating a gurgling sound like a waterfall.

This was the only lively scene in the pit. Everything else was desolate and stagnant, enveloped in a peculiar sense of tranquility.

Having witnessed the man-eating lake in the Ghost Tomb’s second level, Shi Jingzhi didn’t want to touch any unknown liquid. Leaning on the flagpole for leverage, he pushed himself up the wall, rushing towards the outermost stone platform of the “lotus pod”. Compared to their first encounter, Shi Jingzhi’s movements were more coordinated this time. He even found the time to change his posture, holding Yin Ci horizontally in his arms.

However, his landing wasn’t ideal.

It took more than a day to freeze three feet of ice*. Despite diligently practicing his external martial arts for a few days, Shi Jingzhi still lacked proficiency. If it weren’t for his disciple acting as a cushion below, Shi Jingzhi would have nearly stopped abruptly with his face.

*(冻三尺非一日之寒) Proverb that emphasizes the idea that significant achievements or profound change require time, effort, and perseverance (AKA Rome was not built in a day).

The two of them barely stopped at the edge of the stone platform, with less than a yard of space. They narrowly avoided rolling down.

Yin Ci, cushioned by his master’s flesh, couldn’t move and was firmly squashed. Rarely, golden stars flashed before his eyes, and for a moment, he didn’t want to say anything.

Shi Jingzhi, who almost flattened his disciple like a dumpling wrapper, felt embarrassed as he climbed up. “A’Ci, just now… urgh!”

He didn’t finish his sentence as his complexion changed, and he turned his head to vomit.

Yin Ci quickly got up and saw the reason behind Shi Jingzhi’s vomiting—

There were people.

Underneath the translucent liquid resembling jade, numerous people lay. Dozens of individuals were in the lotus stone bowls, while there were hundreds more in the shallow ponds surrounding them.

Well, perhaps “lay” wasn’t quite accurate. Those people no longer resembled humans. They were naked, as if molded from the softest colored wax and slowly melted, their bodies turning into a viscous paste. Their flesh sank underwater, with dark red muscles protruding outward, mingling with their internal organs, forming a strange and grotesque red mud.

Yet they were still alive.

Many eyeballs hadn’t completely melted and were slowly rotating within the gaps between bones. Twisted hearts floated above their flesh, beating laboriously. Blood flowed extremely slowly through the deformed skin.

Yin Ci didn’t know if these people still had any consciousness, and he hoped they didn’t.

This wasn’t the kind of death he sought.

Shi Jingzhi vomited for a long time before finally recovering his composure. Under the pale light, his complexion wasn’t much different from that of a dead person.

“I smell Auntie Liu.” Shi Jingzhi trembled. “I’ve given her medicine before, so I remember its scent.”

At this moment, Yin Ci didn’t have the mindset to tease him. Shi Jingzhi was only twenty-seven years old, not some mentally twisted lunatic. Seeing such a scene suddenly was naturally overwhelming.

Even someone as knowledgeable as Yin Ci was momentarily horrified.

The Ghost Tomb was strange, but all those peculiarities were still within the realm of “humanly desires”. However, what lay before their eyes was different. Whatever it was, it certainly wasn’t made by human hands.

Yin Ci silently approached and let Shi Jingzhi bury his face in his shoulder. It seemed as if Shi Jingzhi had found a lifeline as he held onto his disciple tightly, taking deep breaths for quite a while before barely calming down.

Knowing the true nature of the red mud in the shallow pond made the stench in the air particularly nauseating.

“Shh.” Yin Ci patted his back. “I have a strong destiny, capable of overcoming evil spirits. Remember, Shizun?”

“I remember.” Shi Jingzhi wiped the corner of his mouth and weakly smiled. “Now I understand what happened to the acacia bean. Bai Wei… he might be here.”

Neither alive nor dead, the acacia bean couldn’t turn to ashes and couldn’t maintain its original form.

As if hearing their conversation, a small sob suddenly emanated from the chaotic shadows. Shi Jingzhi stiffened, unsure, and raised his voice slightly, “Yin Deng?”

The sob immediately turned into a mournful wail, and now both of them heard it clearly. It was indeed the voice of a young girl. The voice came from the central stone platform, not too far from where they stood.

The master and disciple were standing on a small stone platform at the edge. Shi Jingzhi staggered to his feet and began moving toward the center of the stone lotus.

The fluorescence was weak, and at such a short distance, shadows could easily engulf the appearance of things. From this perspective, there were figures standing on the other stone platforms. Those things remained motionless, standing at about nine feet tall, certainly not the size of a little girl.

If they wanted to reach the central stone platform, the two of them couldn’t avoid them.

The master and disciple seemed to reach a silent agreement and refrained from acting rashly. Shi Jingzhi didn’t dare ignite his yang fire, afraid of alarming them. Both of them held their breath and carefully avoided each eerie silhouette, relying solely on the faint fluorescence as they stealthily made their way towards the center of the stone platform.

Upon reaching the central stone platform and confirming the silence around them, Shi Jingzhi finally breathed a sigh of relief.

Located in the center of the pit, where the fluorescence was slightly brighter, they finally got a clear view of the central stone platform.

Standing on the platform was an unfinished towering statue of a deity, and Yin Deng was sobbing at its feet. She curled up into a dark red bundle, motionless, like a fallen fruit for offerings.

Not to mention the young Yin Deng, even Shi Jingzhi hesitated to move after getting a clear look at the deity.

The deity was approximately thirteen feet tall—quite massive—and of a common size seen during the Yun Dynasty. They even recognized the appearance of the statue, which was also very common—it depicted the national deity of Great Yun’s state religion, the Imperial Celestial.

However, it wasn’t an ordinary clay statue.

Its framework wasn’t made of iron or wood but of genuine human bones.

Countless human bones were used in its construction, forming a delicate and symmetrical structure. Rows of arm bones, bundles of leg bones, neatly assembled pelvic bones, and interwoven rib bones. Different-sized skulls were strung together, stacked in an orderly manner. Even human teeth became part of the sculpting props, densely embedded together.

The bone surface was covered in flesh membranes, with blood vessels and tendons inseparable, tightly binding the skeletal structure of the deity. Viscous flesh paste was layered on top, compressed, and molded into the divine body and garments. To ensure the flesh remained intact, tiny light green fibers were mixed into the flesh paste, identical to those emanating from Yin Deng’s eyes.

Within the intricately constructed skeleton, a large mass of hearts was intertwined, beating lightly and slowly. Some deformed eyes could be seen within the flesh paste, their gazes scattered as if lost in a dream.

…A living flesh idol.

Currently, only half of its flesh body had been sculpted, with one side vivid and the other skeletal. The finer details weren’t deeply carved, indicating that it was clearly an unfinished work. Its head had not been sculpted with distinct features; only a rough structure was outlined, with the flesh paste loosely stretched over it, and delicate blood vessels clearly visible.

The deity slightly bowed its head with its movements exuding a bone-chilling sense of compassion, similar to the Goddess.

Yin Deng lay at the foot of this colossal entity with her left arm deformed from some impact, with traces of the flesh paste’s texture showing through.

Shi Jingzhi took two steps forward, attempting to hold her. Suddenly, a green light flashed, and he unknowingly activated some kind of spell, instantly flooding the entire underground space with light. Bright beams came from all directions, dazzling their eyes.

All shadows disappeared into nothingness, and the complete view of the underground space appeared before them.

Yin Ci didn’t have a chance to observe the details around them. Previously, the darkness was dense, and they could only see where the fluorescence illuminated. Now that everything had taken form, it added the final straw to everyone’s nerves, pushing them to the brink of collapse.

After the flesh idol, a truly colossal idol was revealed.

The statue was embedded in the cave wall, with only its massive head and part of the upper body exposed. If it weren’t for the fact that half of the head was embedded in the wall, this statue could completely block the pit.

It was undoubtedly not formed by human hands—this statue was composed of countless intertwined tree roots, showing no trace of deliberate intervention.

The deity slightly leaned forward, as if observing the people, and the bright light illuminated its facial features formed by the intertwined roots.

The Imperial Celestial had a face that appeared somewhat androgynous, with a beautiful and plump appearance. However, unlike the statues worshiped in temples, there was no trace of compassion between its eyebrows; only boundless indifference. The slender arms hung at the edge of the statue, twisted and contorted like dying ghost spiders.

Shi Jingzhi supported himself with the flagpole as he stared in disbelief. His whole body seemed about to collapse, but he managed to stand firm, avoiding sitting on the ground.

His face turned pale, and he murmured, “We came too early. We should have let Yan Qing divinate first. At the very least, we should have brought that goose along.”

Yin Ci remained silent.

He stood directly in front of the flesh deity. From this angle, the two statues complemented each other, creating an extremely eerie beauty.

In front, scattered bones and flesh; behind, countless plants and trees. The scene was no different from the myriad of creatures in the world.

For some unknown reason, a subtle sense of familiarity arose in Yin Ci’s heart. This place was clearly not his place of burial, yet it felt like some kind of destiny.

How absurd.


The author has something to say:

Shi Jingzhi: If I am guilty, the law should punish me instead of taking me on a tour of the underworld attractions _(;з」∠)_

Yin Ci: This master worship is too lively, but it’s lively in the wrong direction _(;з」∠)_ 


<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Access Denied Ch117

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/


Chapter 117: When Kings Meet

Facing the request for peace talks from the new leader, the synthetic humans agreed quite readily. Considering that Y City was still in the process of recovery, the humans first dispatched a team of medical experts to the synthetic humans as a gesture of goodwill.

Apart from external personnel like Ai Xiaoxiao, the medical team consisted mainly of synthetic human doctors from the border outpost, which didn’t hinder the post-disaster reconstruction of Y City. The United Government didn’t throw obstacles in Zhu Yanchen’s way—in fact, no one dared to obstruct Zhu Yanchen now.

During peacetime, this person had abandoned a comfortable life and personally engaged in highly lethal research on the erosion substance. Now, while the chaos in the city hadn’t yet subsided, this person promptly launched a coup d’état, killing his own father and directly obtaining the leadership of the United Government.

The elders of the three major families also wanted to make a fuss in this murder case, but unfortunately, according to regulations, the leader of the United Government did have special authority for execution during special circumstances. When Zhu Sheng was killed, there was not a single confidant in the room. The conversation between father and son was not facing the camera, making it difficult to discern the content. In the end, with no one making waves, everyone could only listen quietly to Zhu Yanchen’s instructions.

Xia Liang vividly recounted these events, and Ai Xiaoxiao’s ears were almost deafened by her.

“Why did you follow along?” Ai Xiaoxiao rubbed her ears in frustration.

“After all, he’s quite famous.” Xia Liang innocently blinked her eyes. “I have a performance to attend, so this is also the humans’ sincerity, right?”

“…Why do I feel like it’s more like escapism?” Ai Xiaoxiao rolled her eyes.

“You’re being too harsh! Zhu Yanchen will definitely reorganize the Xia family. It’s awkward for me, so it’s better if I’m not present.” Xia Liang shrugged her nose, trying to put on a cute expression, but the girl opposite her wasn’t buying it.

“We’re not here to have fun. Just stay put and don’t cause trouble.”

“At least I’ve made some contributions during the war…”

“Well, your command was good. Truly impressive,” Ai Xiaoxiao sarcastically interrupted, lacking sincerity. “At that time, we were busy saving people and didn’t get to witness your heroic appearance.”

Saying that, she half-leaned on the reclining chair, about to close her eyes for a nap.

“Tsk. I don’t believe it. You must have some gossip you want to hear!” Xia Liang’s voice sharpened, filled with pent-up frustration.

Unable to bear it any longer, Ai Xiaoxiao sat up straight, sighed for a moment, and took out a coffee-flavored lollipop, carefully unwrapping the candy wrapper. “…How is Yi Ning doing?”

Xia Liang’s expression froze for a few seconds. “Ah, him…you know, right? His right eye couldn’t be saved, and his right arm is also crippled. He’ll have to use a prosthetic for the rest of his life.”

“I know about that.”

“I heard that he wanted to go to the synthetic humans’ side but was refused by Zhu Yanchen, who said he hadn’t fully recovered… I don’t know what he’s thinking.”

“…Who knows.” Ai Xiaoxiao looked up at the sky above.

This time, Xia Liang couldn’t help but roll her eyes. This conversation was a disaster. Despite just starting to develop some favorable impressions of Ai Xiaoxiao, her enthusiasm was about to be chilled by the other person. “Fine, tell me. The weather seems to have improved recently? Do you know what’s going on?”

“It has improved a bit.”

These days, the erosion substance around the city was gradually dissipating. The city had suffered heavy losses, and Zhu Yanchen hadn’t had time to clean up the erosion yet. However, the erosion was spontaneously retreating and flowing towards the outskirts.

The new Sigma inherited the information from the previous one, but its mind seemed to be lacking something. Compared to the previous one, Monday was much lazier, and there was a vast difference in logical thinking. It clearly didn’t intend to fully adopt its predecessor’s understanding.

“Monday has a very simple mind. To give an analogy, you can’t make a dog spontaneously understand philosophical works.”

“But the previous Sigma wasn’t intelligent either, right? The information is the same.” Xia Liang sympathized with Monday for a few seconds.

“The previous Sigma was born and grew from the death and hatred of the synthetic humans. It had a natural sensitivity and affinity for ‘hatred’… Well, how should I put it, the original Sigma was like a ‘participant in the events’. Do you understand?”

“…I guess.”

“But Monday is different. It was born naturally. And after acquiring consciousness, it was pampered by certain people. The information transmitted by Sigma hasn’t changed, but Monday now has its own thoughts and stance. It’s more like an ‘observer of the events’ and won’t be so stubborn. The land environment was never suitable for the growth of the Erosion Swamp. These substances are spontaneously leaving, probably in response to Monday’s call… The damp, dark, and high-pressure underwater environment is more suitable for them.”

“Sigma…”

“The original Sigma followed its instincts to come to the seaside, and reason told it that hatred is advantageous for survival. It wanted to eliminate humans as a threat and then settle peacefully underwater.”

“Wait, wait. So, if humans hadn’t developed synthetic humans in the first place…”

“In less than two hundred years, the erosion would have dispersed on its own.”

“…”

“The farce of two hundred years is finally over.” Ai Xiaoxiao still looked at the sky. “Be happy. Our generation might be able to see the blue sky.”

The thick clouds gradually thinned, bringing more brightness to the sky and the earth.

…However, it couldn’t make someone’s mood any better.

Yi Ning stood near the central square, with the bandage on his right eye already removed. His pupil had turned into a murky gray, almost blending with the eyeball itself, and there were scars around the eye socket caused by erosion. His right side was more seriously injured, still wrapped in numerous bandages, making him look somewhat bloated. The sleeve on his right arm hung empty, fluttering in the wind.

He stood in silence at the spot where Luo Duan had died. Luo Duan had completely transformed into a shower of erosion, and even if there were witnesses, they could only point out a rough location.

Yi Ning’s right cheek was covered in scars, and he wore a face mask. People coming and going were busy with post-disaster reconstruction, and no one noticed him.

Except for a certain professional slacker.

“Why are you here? Ah, I’m Xia Yufeng, who assisted Zhu Yanchen a while ago.” Xia Yufeng wiped his nose.

He still wore his disguise and calculated how to ask Zhu Yanchen for some cooperation fees. In the end, he had helped in some way, so he deserved some money. After all, he had saved quite a few people from the settlements!

Thinking about it, Xia Yufeng felt particularly satisfied, wishing he could puff his chest even higher. Perhaps he was a genius like Zhu Yanchen, but he excelled at discerning people’s identities and reading their expressions. Yi Ning was still a marshal, so it wouldn’t hurt to build a good relationship.

“I once sheltered him for a while.” Yi Ning glanced at Xia Yufeng and said calmly.

“Him?”

“Luo Duan. For a period of time, I hid him in the command center. To put it bluntly, I believed he was involved in the synthetic humans’ rebellion and had some utilitarian value. But to tell you the truth, he had helped me a lot before, and we were superiors and subordinates for many years. I thought I understood him… I thought we were friends to some extent.”

Xia Yufeng took a controlled breath.

“When the conflict erupted, I believed that it was Shu Jun’s doing. Luo Duan was old enough and had a stable personality, so it was impossible for him to be involved in such things… Even if he knew the truth, his fiancée had died a long time ago. They hadn’t seen each other for a long time, so he wouldn’t have strong emotions. After all, such things are not uncommon among synthetic humans… Was I being self-righteous?”

‘I shouldn’t have talked to him,’ Xia Yufeng thought sorrowfully. This topic was too heavy, and he didn’t know how to respond.

“I became soft-hearted towards him, even fantasizing that we could have a good collaboration.” Yi Ning spoke slowly, touching the empty sleeve. “How should I put it? I bear half the responsibility for this war.”

“You’re being too harsh on yourself. It’s just that Luo Duan was too cunning. No one could have done anything about it.”

“I almost became the leader. ‘Not noticing’ is negligence, ‘misjudgment’ is a sin… I think the reason why Zhu Sheng chose death was also for this reason. We are guilty.”

“Oh, no one would blame you for that. You performed exceptionally well in this war, and everyone was moved…”

“Is that so?” Yi Ning asked quietly.

“Of course! Luo Duan went crazy, and the way he went mad, anyone would…”

“Zhu Yanchen couldn’t perceive it either?”

Xia Yufeng choked for a moment and couldn’t continue. Yi Ning smiled.

“I don’t care about people’s evaluations. I just regret… Why couldn’t I have discovered it earlier? As Luo Duan’s superior, if I had understood him as an individual or joined forces with Zhu Yanchen earlier, could this war have been avoided? If I had played a bigger role, would the number of casualties have been lower?”

“Just being pushed into this position as a figurehead for the Tang family, I thought my behavior was already correct. Isn’t it ironic?”

Xia Yufeng searched his mind but couldn’t find comforting words. Yi Ning was stating facts, and he could tell.

But what could he say? No one can condemn you?

Seeing Xia Yufeng fall into silence, Yi Ning didn’t continue speaking. He just stared deeply at the square after the erosion rain, his gaze sweeping over the mottled marks on the cobblestones, as if he wanted to engrave them in his mind.

Finally, he lifted his head and looked at the cloud-filled sky.

“The clouds are dispersing,” he said. “It’s nice.”

“Yeah, you…” Xia Yufeng hurriedly seized onto this relatively positive statement, but before he could finish, Yi Ning took something out of his pocket—

It was a small bottle filled with dark, viscous liquid, with a sample label from the command center. Yi Ning swiftly opened the cap and poured it onto his remaining left eye. Xia Yufeng was so frightened that he froze in place, unable to even extend his hand.

The erosion substance made a hissing sound as it made contact with the eyeball. Yi Ning covered his eye, bending over in pain, his face turning red—yet he didn’t utter a word.

Yi Ning silently crouched there for more than ten minutes. When he raised his head again, his left eye was in a similar condition to his right eye. The pupil became opaque, turning into a murky grayish-blue color.

“I’m going to trouble you next, Mr. Xia,” Yi Ning said softly, extending a hand. “Can you take me to the command center?”

“Please, please, please don’t do something reckless!”

“No, I still have a lot to learn and a lot of work to do.” Yi Ning wiped off the erosion from his face, unconcerned. “I just want to remember these few days forever. Memories will fade when I see too many clear skies in the future.”

Xia Yufeng stared blankly at the person in front of him, suddenly losing his enthusiasm for self-promotion.

“I understand,” he said softly. “I’ll take you back.”

The reconstruction of Y City took a full month.

As the new leader, Zhu Yanchen nearly drained the resources of the three major families. Fortunately, after a month, the square regained its tidy appearance. The houses weren’t yet fully built, but the outskirts of the city were filled with sturdy temporary structures. About half of the war wounded had recovered, and many people returned to their homes.

In terms of food, the military hunted a large number of mutant beasts in the surrounding areas, processing them with suppression and purification devices to produce protein bars for the population. Vitamins were supplied through medication, and combined with the government’s food reserves, there was no famine.

Most importantly, the clouds that had lingered for two hundred years finally dispersed by more than half. The translucent blue sky appeared, and the sunlight painted the gray ruins with a warm golden hue. As the erosion receded, verdant shoots emerged from the wreckage. With hope in sight, few people complained about the post-disaster living conditions; they were even more motivated than before the disaster.

Hope was more effective than anything else.

However, when the synthetic humans entered the city, the atmosphere became noticeably tense. The wounds of war weren’t as painful anymore, but they were still glaringly open. Whether it was Zhang Duan or Luo Duan causing the trouble, it was the synthetic humans who were seen as the culprits, and that was undeniably true to the public.

Shu Jun spent a month in the synthetic humans’ territory and his complexion improved significantly. He still wore the uniform made of erosion, with his gray-white hair and eyes exposed without any concern for the whispers of the residents of Y City.

The reconciliation negotiations were broadcast live in their entirety.

“Oh, is that who I think it is?” Uncle Pan almost dropped the cup in his hand, muttering to himself. “Gray Claw is so impressive? What about Smoke? Oh no, could it be…”

With lingering fear, he glanced at Zhu Yanchen’s figure, then at the nameplate of the current leader, and decisively decided to play dumb.

“Gray Claw? He’s quite formidable.” Uncle Xiong was sitting at the counter, drinking, completely unaware of his brother’s mental activity. “But, to say… the new leader’s explanation of the war is too straightforward, isn’t it? Even if it’s humanity’s fault, we still need some face, right?”

“Hey, believe it or not, there are still people who refuse to believe it, even when it’s put in front of them like this.” Uncle Xiong started wiping the glasses again, making a squeaking sound against the glass. “But at least the situation has improved a bit. Smoke… Young Master Zhu is quite impressive, with the elite of Y City supporting him. They shouldn’t cause too much trouble.”

“They’re still considered elites.” Uncle Xiong snorted. “We have medicine now, and the erosion has receded. The erosion zone is buried with a lot of treasures that won’t be fully excavated for ten or twenty years. In a few more months, we’ll be able to dig all the way to the seaside. Brother, you need to expand the inn. The number of guests will surely increase. If we act early, we might even become richer than those people in Y City—now they’re begging me to go to Y City, but I won’t!”

“Why are you so smug? Tone it down.”

“Boss, give me some pancakes with a side of sauce!” The person on the other side of the counter hiccupped. “And also, cut me another plate of meat. I just finished running the goods. Money is not an issue!”

“Alright!” Uncle Pan put down the cup and had a big smile on his face.

“Oh my goodness.”

The customer who ordered the pancake was also watching the live broadcast of the reconciliation meeting. When he saw the compensation agreement part, he suddenly became sober.

“This is too exaggerated, right? We didn’t benefit much from it, so why should we compensate so much? Compensation for goods and people, and lifetime guarantees?! No, this Zhu guy is just a bully, acting tough on the inside but too soft on the outside, isn’t he?”

“Well, it’s the United Government who’s paying.”

Uncle Xiong was still considering his money-making plans, not concerned at all.

“Taking care of thirty thousand people until they die of old age isn’t that exaggerated. The synthetic humans already said it, right? They won’t live with humans anymore. They want to claim a piece of land in the ruins of X City. How we lived before is how we’ll live in the future; no impact.”

“That’s what they say… Tss, they even got the hibernation pods?”

“Why do you care? Have you used them?”

“They look valuable, so I can’t care about them? How much could one of them be sold for? If you ever come across one, don’t dig it up. Leave it for me—”

“You wish.”

“I’m just not comfortable with it! Even if it was humanity’s fault for the situation with the synthetic humans, looking at this war alone, they didn’t suffer much damage, did they? So many ordinary people died in Y City. Even Zhu Lao himself died. It seems like humanity is the one who suffered more. The synthetic humans are taking advantage of the situation…”

“Shh, shh! It’s better to be polite before resorting to force. Humanity is raising objections! Be quiet and listen!”

On the screen, Zhu Yanchen intertwined his fingers with an expressionless face. “…The above is the compensation proposal we put forward, but this proposal comes with a condition.”

“Please.” Shu Jun sat with a somewhat slouched posture, looking a bit like a troublemaker.

“There is currently a large amount of erosion seeping into the seabed, and we have discovered traces of the new Sigma. Based on its actions, it still intends to return inland. It used to obey the synthetic humans, and we must consider the risks involved.”

“I raised Monday, that’s right.” Shu Jun smiled like a sated fox. “So?”

“As a precondition for compensation, both sides need to maintain a balance of power. With you and Sigma, humans are at a clear disadvantage.” Zhu Yanchen’s blank expression fluctuated slightly, revealing a hint of helplessness in his eyes.

Beside Zhu Yanchen, representatives from the three major families let out a collective sigh of relief, showing expressions of approval and reassurance.

“Speak your mind, Mr. Zhu.” Shu Jun spoke slowly, his smile deepening.

Zhu Yanchen made a gesture, and a glass container resembling a coffin appeared on the screen in the conference room.

“Our proposal is to construct a ‘hibernation chamber’. We have developed devices that can keep the erosion in a prolonged state of dormancy. We hope that you will enter it and go into a state of deep sleep. The entrance keys to the hibernation chambers will be divided into two, with one held by humans and the other by synthetic humans.”

“Surname Zhu, you fucking—!” Hu Yan stood up abruptly, his neck veins bulging with anger. He seemed eager to rush out and beat Zhu Yanchen, but he was reluctantly held back by two synthetic humans beside him.

“If you are willing to do this, we agree to allow you to retain control over Sigma and faithfully fulfill the previous compensation agreement.”

“We are only thirty thousand people, and Monday is just something that eats without doing anything. Zhu Yanchen, you’ve gone too far in bullying us!” Hu Yan gritted his teeth.

Meanwhile, at Uncle Pan’s inn.

“…I’m starting to sympathize with the synthetic humans.” The customer who ordered the pancake took a sharp breath and took a bite of it. “The Zhu family is still the Zhu family, but this is too ruthless. Going directly for their leader?”

“It’s a situation that couldn’t be helped. Did you see that black wolf that day? It was incredibly strong. If he hadn’t gone after Shu Jun, the three major families would have found an opportunity to overthrow him sooner or later. Not to mention the three major families, wouldn’t you be afraid if you were in his shoes?”

“That’s true… Haa, the synthetic humans have no choice but to agree. But, no matter how you look at it, it’s too much, you know? It’s clearly a feeling of being bullied. They did save us, after all…”

“Haa…”

The smile on Shu Jun’s face froze for a few seconds as he stared deeply at Zhu Yanchen, not saying a word for a while.

“A’Yan.” When Shu Jun spoke again, he changed the topic while maintaining his casual posture. “When Blackbirds and Groundwater had their final match, do you know what I was thinking the moment I jumped into the Erosion Swamp?”

Zhu Yanchen remained silent.

“At that moment, I thought, we’ve known each other for so long, and I haven’t even seen your face… After the competition, I wanted to meet you, and have a nice meal together. If you were similar to what I imagined, and if you didn’t have a partner, I wanted to confess my feelings to you.”

The customer who ordered the pancake almost choked on it, coughing violently and nearly falling off his chair.

“What the fuck is going on here?” After catching his breath, he almost shouted. “What’s the relationship between those two? Our leader and the other side…are they in that kind of relationship?”

This time, Uncle Xiong didn’t have time to pay attention to him. With one hand holding the wine bottle at an angle, he stared at the screen without blinking, unaware that the alcohol was overflowing from his glass.

“Before I knew who you were, I already liked you a bit.” Shu Jun stood up, leaning on the edge of the table, still wearing a smile on his face. “Although this isn’t a restaurant and the environment is relatively formal…listen carefully, I still like you.”

Zhu Yanchen’s expression became extremely complex for a moment.

“I feel the same way,” he softly responded after a while.

“That’s all I wanted to say.” Shu Jun sat back in his chair. “Your conditions are good, and I agree. Also, I will make sure Hu Yan and the others train Monday well, so you don’t have to worry.”

“Captain—!”

“Lao Hu, humans won’t be at a disadvantage. Didn’t you already know that?”

With Shu Jun suddenly making this move, no one had the mood for further discussion. Not only the attendees on the human side, but even the representatives from the synthetic humans were all in a daze. Only Shu Jun, the directly involved party, remained composed, wearing a smile as if nothing had happened.

The humans fulfilled their promise. Under close supervision, Shu Jun stayed for three days, watching the representatives of the synthetic humans depart. Afterwards, he was carefully escorted into the hibernation chamber and laid down in the glass container without uttering a word.

Only when he closed his eyes did a faint smile remain on his face. The footage from the hibernation chamber was also being played in real-time for the high-level officials of both sides to observe.

In the partially reconstructed X City.

“Damn it!” Hu Yan looked at Shu Jun sleeping in the glass container and pounded the table with force. “Zhu Yanchen is really a bastard, so this is where he set the trap…couldn’t he just keep Monday as a hostage? Can’t he show a bit of gratitude? Our captain, he—”

“So what?” a cheerful voice interrupted.

“So what?!” Hu Yan angrily exclaimed, then realized that something was off—the voice that asked the question seemed somewhat familiar.

“Oh, A’Yan almost drove me crazy,” Shu Jun said, holding a large bag of egg cakes with half of one stuffed in his mouth. “Those lines we discussed before didn’t have all that. The atmosphere was too good, and I couldn’t resist.”

Hu Yan: “…………”

Hu Yan glanced at the screen showing the hibernation chamber, then looked at Shu Jun, and then looked back at the screen.

“Don’t keep looking, Lao Hu. I’m afraid you’ll twist your neck off. Here, take this. It’s a specialty I brought from Y City. It’s delicious.” Shu Jun placed the bag of egg cakes on the table and stretched lazily. “There’s no way I would leave you guys unattended. Look, the captain of the Blackbirds is still trembling. How can you take over so many people all at once? I haven’t had enough of being captain, so how could I let you take advantage of me first?”

“Captain…”

“Considering that I’m officially in ‘hibernation’, I’ll have to hang it over your head for now. Don’t worry about it.”

“Captain!”

“Yes?”

“…Did you even deceive your own people?!”

“The people of the three major families are all smart. I can still pretend to be mysterious when I’m alone, but if all of you knew, it would be too easy to slip up. Forget about it, just to keep it from them, A’Yan practiced with me for three days and nights.” Shu Jun touched his face, still feeling a lingering fear. “My face hurt from all the smiling, haa.”

Hu Yan’s eyes were red. He sniffled, stood there feeling helpless for a while, and tremblingly took a small cake.

“I’m sorry.” Seeing that Hu Yan was about to cry, Shu Jun stopped joking around and honestly lowered his head. “Considering the pressure from the three major families and the attitudes of the human population, we believe this is the best course of action. Also, don’t spread the fact that I’m still active outside… I imagine many people here wouldn’t be able to accept the fact that I’m a large-scale Erosion Swamp.”

“Never mind, later you have to let me beat you up properly.” Hu Yan took a bite of the cake, trying his best to hide the choked-up sound in his voice. “What about the one inside the hibernation chamber?”

“It’s a shell made of erosion using the ability of the Mirror Erosion Swamp,” Shu Jun quickly explained. “Stop sobbing, ah.”

“Captain.”

“Hmm?”

“Your public confession wasn’t just for the sake of confessing, right?”

“Huh?”

“Are you afraid that Zhu Yanchen’s age will cause humans to have doubts? You’re urging him to make you the First Lady or something.” Hu Yan chewed the cake and glanced sideways at Shu Jun. “By making such a scene, I bet no one dares to bring up that topic. You wish to have Smoke remain single his whole life, and ensure the humans understand it—being overshadowed by the head of the Erosion Swamp, if someone wants to pursue him, they’d better think twice.”

“Oh, why are you being so blunt?” Shu Jun stuffed the cake into Hu Yan’s mouth, pretending to be coy and shy. “After all, he’s mine, so of course, no one else is allowed to have thoughts about him.”

Hu Yan couldn’t bear to look at him and turned his head away.

“Don’t we have a reunion hug?”

“Get lost!”

“Alright, alright, I’m leaving.”

“Wait, where are you going?” Hu Yan wiped his eyes and quickly swallowed the cake in his mouth.

“A date!” Shu Jun crouched on the windowsill. “I just came back to explain it to you so you wouldn’t be heartbroken. Remember to tell the Blackbirds few cadres not to get emotional.”

“…Didn’t you just come back from Y City?”

“I’m going to pick up Monday! That troublesome thing is still craving for erosion candy and crawled back on its own. If it runs to Y City, it will cause chaos again. A’Yan has been busy lately, and he finally found an excuse to slip out. It’s not easy for us either.”

Shu Jun smiled brightly.

“I’m not very good at managing a city. I have to learn more from him in this aspect, and also…”

“Go, go, go. Get out of here quickly.” Hu Yan waved his hand in despair. “Don’t show off here. It’s infuriating.”

Shu Jun adjusted his uniform hat made of erosion and waved to Hu Yan. He leaped off the windowsill and quickly disappeared into the night sky.

Hu Yan walked to the window, intending to close it. However, when his hand reached halfway, he slowed down.

The dark clouds hadn’t completely dispersed, covering most of the sky. But above the dispersed portion of the sky, the stars twinkled, and the moonlight was exceptionally gentle.


The author has something to say:

One is in the light, and the other is in the dark XD

Marshal: Why do you like improvising so much, why?

Shu Ge: Just coming out of the closet.jpg


Kinky Thoughts:

The title of this chapter (王见王) is an idiom referring to a situation where two highly skilled or powerful individuals encounter each other, often resulting in a confrontation or competition to determine the superior one.


<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Evil As Humans Ch187

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/


Chapter 187: Once Upon A Time

The night was deep, but the lights in the Shian building were brightly lit.

Li Nian sat in his seat, pinching the bridge of his nose. Xiang Jiang sat across from him, silently playing with his phone.

Li Nian wasn’t unfamiliar with Xiang Jiang’s state. Since Xiang Jiang became the Minister of the Emergency Management Department, they had never cooperated on a mission again. Even when they discovered a branch of Sunken Society below the abandoned building of the hospital, they didn’t have a true “battlefield collaboration”.

Since returning from Gengsheng Town, Li Nian had been having Hao Wenzhe keep an eye on Xiang Jiang’s communications. Unfortunately, there was no trace of any problems in this person’s communication records.

If it weren’t for Fu Xingchuan insisting that he had a hunch that this person would cause trouble, Li Nian himself would have given up.

Xiang Jiang’s work state was very peculiar. Besides never taking the initiative, he handled daily work without making any mistakes, even doing it neatly and efficiently. But if one were to say that he would willingly take the initiative to discover clues and work diligently like Fu Xingchuan, it was far from the truth.

It was like a machine devoid of personal emotions.

For example, at this moment, Li Nian was working overtime until past two in the morning, and this person was just keeping him company. He didn’t even touch his computer; he was just immersed in playing games.

“Have you read today’s report?” Li Nian took the initiative to speak.

“The cases of minor corruption caused by Evil Force have increased by 5.7%. Someone’s deliberately spreading corruption. According to the feedback from various investigation teams, the sources of corruption are small objects with auspicious signs, and according to the regulations, investigation teams of B-level or higher shouldn’t be deployed.” Xiang Jiang answered while staring at his phone, not even moving his eyes.

However, when he mentioned “according to the regulations,” he paused subtly.

Li Nian made a sound of acknowledgement.

According to Shian’s explicit regulations, this level of corruption indeed didn’t warrant the deployment of an A-level investigation team unless the higher-ups actively requested it. In the past, Fu Xingchuan would have taken a step forward and jointly applied with him to completely suppress this subtle doubt. But judging by Xiang Jiang’s reaction, it would be troublesome to apply for the intervention of a stronger individual in advance.

Sometimes, a passive individual who strictly follows the rules and avoids making mistakes was more difficult to deal with than an intentionally disruptive villain.

…But looking at it now, it was truly a blessing in disguise.

Thinking about the powerful individual surnamed Yin who had secretly taken over the case, not a single trace of emotion appeared on Li Nian’s face.

“We recently dismantled the stronghold of Sunken Society, so they will probably try to cause trouble in retaliation. The timing is sensitive, and Unit 9 is inexperienced, so I’ll send two B-level investigation teams to other areas for investigation,” Li Nian said lightly. “I sent you an email. Reply to it.”

Xiang Jiang finally looked up and glanced at Li Nian. In the end, he didn’t say anything and simply added “agree” to the email request.

Li Nian didn’t pay any attention to him either. Professor Li opened his book under the cover of the night and lowered his gaze.

The quiet atmosphere lasted for less than three minutes when Xiang Jiang’s phone vibrated. He answered the call expressionlessly. “Hello, Director Zhou.”

It was Director Zhou from the Municipal Public Security Bureau. Li Nian continued flipping through his book, holding his breath, and listening.

“There have been frequent incidents of small-scale conflicts and injuries in the city? Well, we have discovered someone spreading harmful substances. No, it’s not dangerous. We can handle it.”

Xiang Jiang responded in an official tone.

“Sorry, Director Zhou, based on our comprehensive judgment, the situation hasn’t reached a point where Shian’s intervention is necessary. As for public opinion matters, we can’t help.”

After speaking, Xiang Jiang hung up the phone directly.

“I’m leaving first.” Li Nian closed his book, stood up, and said, “You should go back early too.”

Xiang Jiang nodded but showed no intention of moving. As the office door closed, he continued to sit in the empty office, half-closing his eyes, playing a flashy mobile game.

In the unseen world for Li Nian, Xiang Jiang’s twin brother, Xiang Hai, was crouching behind Xiang Jiang. His pitch-black eye sockets were slightly tilted downward, staring straight at the colorful screen of the mobile phone.

……

In the early hours of the morning, Li Nian parked his car in front of an old residential complex.

Outside the vacant security room, there was a sign at the entrance that read “Qingzhu Jiayuan”.

Qingzhu Jiayuan was located in the old city district, with only five-story buildings and a style reminiscent of the previous century. Most of the residents here were elderly. The paint on the buildings was mottled and cracked, resembling the weathered back of an old person’s hand. The trees around the buildings were withered, and the flower beds were filled with weeds. The stench from an uncovered drain emitted a suffocating and peculiar odor.

In the early hours of the morning, all the windows were darkened. Looking from the entrance of the residential complex, the compact buildings resembled heavy tombstones.

After stopping in front of his home’s entrance, Li Nian didn’t immediately take out his keys.

He turned around and looked at the door opposite his own.

“I’m back,” he said.

The hallway was old, with the cement floor covered in dust, resembling an unfinished, rough construction site. Under the flickering lights, the security door of the door opposite his was slightly ajar, and inside was dark.

There were numerous scratches on the security door, and the walls were filled with graffiti, undoubtedly the work of children. There was also some partially removed sticky residue on the door, with remnants of yellow talisman paper clearly visible.

However, they were all coated with a layer of gloomy colors by time.

Li Nian stood silently in place, dressed in formal attire that seemed out of place in this setting. After nearly a minute, Professor Li turned around. He effortlessly opened the door with his keys, and the living room lights illuminated as Li Nian stepped into his dwelling.

Li Nian’s home was almost like a different world from the outside. The room was small, but the interior design appeared sleek, sophisticated, and aesthetically pleasing. The furniture and fixtures used high-quality materials. If a few pictures were taken inside this house and presented as a high-end apartment in a metropolis, it would likely deceive many people.

“You finally came back. How did it go?” Fu Xingchuan climbed up from Li Nian’s sofa in one swift motion.

On the coffee table in the living room was a thermal casserole containing a light stew that was still warm. Next to the casserole lay an empty bowl with rice grains, clearly indicating that someone had already eaten.

“Not great. Xiang Jiang still only knows how to follow the rules. We’ll have to rely on Unit 9 for this matter, and you have to assist them wholeheartedly.” Li Nian took off his coat and served himself a bowl of rice. “What about your end?”

“I made sure it wasn’t discovered by anyone.” Fu Xingchuan respectfully saluted.

“You didn’t need to come personally. The risk is too high if Sunken Society finds out,” Li Nian remarked.

“There’s one thing I need to ask you in person.” Fu Xingchuan’s tone unintentionally turned serious. “You had them investigate Meng Huai’s case under the pretense of a decoy operation. Li Nian, what were you thinking?”

Li Nian’s chopsticks paused.

“It was a decoy operation. With so many missing people back then, it wouldn’t appear natural to investigate only Zhong Chengfeng, an unrelated individual.” Li Nian set down his chopsticks and responded in a flat tone. “Now, there are also missing cases. Whether to merge the cases or how to prioritize them, Lu Xiaohe has it under control.”

“You know that’s not what I’m asking.” Fu Xingchuan crossed his arms, wiping away all the smile from his face.

“Why so serious today?”

“Regardless of whether it was a decoy operation or not, as long as you inserted this case into their considerations, Yin Ren and the others will take a comprehensive approach. Compared to Minister Meng, two elderly people also went missing from the nursing home back then. Their situation is more closely related to Zhong Chengfeng than Minister Meng.”

Li Nian pondered for a moment before picking up his chopsticks again.

“Meng Huai’s disappearance is valuable intelligence for reference. With an unclear situation, this case with significant deviations from similar missing persons cases can better illustrate the problem… It’s a logical deduction on my part.”

Li Nian picked up a piece of tofu with his chopsticks and spoke with a calm and composed tone.

“But if you ask me whether there are personal feelings involved in this decision, what would you do if I say ‘yes’? Give up working with me or report the situation to Shian?”

Fu Xingchuan’s gaze became complex.

“So troublesome. That’s why I said I’m not good at dealing with science posts.”

After a while, Fu Xingchuan also picked up a piece of tofu to eat.

“All of you are the same, coming with a purpose and leaving once the purpose is fulfilled. It’s true for the lowest-level employees, and even at your level… Haa.”

“Now that you’ve got the answer, it doesn’t matter. There’s no need for you to ask me.” Li Nian’s words were devoid of emotion.

“Who said that?”

Fu Xingchuan snatched another piece of tofu from the casserole.

“If you let it go, I’ll fully assist our Great Celestial Master. If you don’t let it go… I can’t reach Yin Ren’s level, but I’ll keep an eye on the progress and assist you as much as I can. At this point, I don’t want the most steadfast ally of Shian to be distracted.”

Li Nian fell silent for a moment. “There’s beer in the fridge. Help yourself.”

“I never would have guessed. I’ve been partnering with you for so long, and I didn’t know you could drink. When did you learn?”

“I knew you would come sooner or later,” Li Nian replied without answering the question.

As Fu Xingchuan opened the beer bottle with a “pop”, Li Nian had almost finished eating. He held the bowl, consuming the last piece of cabbage, and a faint glimmer reflected off the ring on his finger.

Fu Xingchuan instinctively glanced towards the direction of the living room door.

He had met Meng Huai.

Over twenty years ago, he was working in the A-level investigation team at the Shian Haigu branch. At that time, Meng Huai was being considered for the position of Minister of the Emergency Management Department. She was only two or three years older than him.

Fu Xingchuan, at that time, was in the prime of his youth and was rumored to be a genius of the Fu family. Suddenly encountering someone who was even more recognized, he felt somewhat dissatisfied with this unconventional sister.

However, contrary to her exaggerated appearance, Meng Huai was lively and talkative. Before Fu Xingchuan could display his own youthful awkwardness, Meng Huai approached him.

“Xiao Fu, I heard you are also a ghost master and a corpse servant? Impressive! When I was your age, I could never quite get the hang of controlling corpses. Even now, in the assessment for promotion to ghost general, I’m still lacking compared to other corpse servants… How about exchanging ideas?”

Her tone was particularly cheerful, making it hard to refuse.

At that time, Fu Xingchuan wasn’t even twenty yet, and he was particularly receptive to this “equal” style of conversation. After a few exchanges, he felt hesitant to express his “dissatisfaction” in front of Meng Huai—

After a few more exchanges, he realized that Meng Huai did indeed lack proficiency in controlling corpses, but she was indeed stronger than him. Every time she genuinely learned something from him, Meng Huai sincerely thanked him. More often than not, it was Meng Huai subtly guiding him, helping him avoid detours in the corpse servant field.

That girl truly had no airs about her.

Compared to Shen Mo, the mentor assigned to him by Shian at the time, Meng Huai felt more like a genuine elder. After completely resolving his internal conflicts, Fu Xingchuan had asked Meng Huai face-to-face why she had concerns about him, who wasn’t her subordinate. Meng Huai simply smiled in response.

“Because you are talented—more talented than I was initially. And you have a good character; one day, you will become a responsible boss. Also…”

“What else?”

“I also have a younger brother living next door to me. We grew up together. I’ve been eating at his house for more than ten years. What do boys your age possibly mind? Don’t you think I don’t know?”

“Which family is he from?” Fu Xingchuan suddenly became cautious—someone who had known Meng Huai, a genius, from childhood couldn’t be too far behind.

Meng Huai burst into laughter and ruffled his dyed hair. “Hey, don’t believe that.”

Through their frequent interactions, Fu Xingchuan learned more or less about the mysterious “younger brother neighbor” from Meng Huai and roughly understood Meng Huai’s situation.

Meng Huai’s parents were Nightwalkers and died in a gray transaction. Meng Huai became an orphan at the age of four or five and lived with her slightly senile grandfather. Two teachers lived next door to them, and they started taking care of their unfortunate neighbors, sending them food every day—

“Xiao Li actually doesn’t appreciate our ancestral profession of ‘ghost and divinity’,” Meng Huai had said. “I guess he’ll become a professor or something in the future. He’s extremely rule-bound. When I initially went to their house for a meal, he would lock himself inside his room and not come out.”

“I came to Shian right after graduating from high school, and we even had an argument about it. That kid doesn’t even recognize Shian. He probably thinks that not going to college would lead to imprisonment. He even said that I will suffer sooner or later because I engage in feudal superstitions every day.”

To be honest, as soon as Fu Xingchuan heard that the younger brother was an “uninteresting ordinary person”, he lost interest.

Meng Huai had a keen eye for people. Seeing Fu Xingchuan’s lack of interest, she rarely mentioned this childhood friend and neighbor again. But even without mentioning him, the image of this person would occasionally flash through Meng Huai’s words.

For example, one day, Meng Huai suddenly had a bracelet on her hand that completely didn’t match her style.

“Oh, this? It’s a birthday gift from Xiao Li… I guess he was idle in college and decided to learn from others in giving gifts. You have no idea how grumpy he looked when he gave it to me, as if I owed him a great debt.”

“Love? Impossible. That guy is solely focused on academia. I also don’t have the conditions for love here. In our line of work, who knows, one day we might not even be around.”

But shortly after that, Meng Huai had a ring on her finger.

“Xiao Li’s parents had an accident. Uncle and Auntie are like half-parents to me. They don’t have much time left, and we want to put their minds at ease. This is just for show. After the act is over, I’ll return it to him.”

“But occasionally, I do think that marrying Xiao Li wouldn’t be bad at all.”

When this extravagant genius uttered the word “marriage” for the first time, Fu Xingchuan was startled. Unable to resist, he asked, “Why?”

“Because even if I die one day, my brother Xiao Li won’t be heartbroken. You haven’t met him; his only hobby is skipping grades, and he has a face that wants to be dedicated to academia for a lifetime.” Meng Huai made a funny face. “And maybe I like him a little bit.”

“You can confess your feelings.” Fu Xingchuan offered sincere advice as someone who was still single.

“No, that won’t do. That guy takes everything seriously. I won’t bring harm to him. What if I die early for real?”

“Um, Meng Jie, you keep mentioning ‘death’ a lot…”

“…Fu Xingchuan, I know you want to climb up. Avoiding this matter is useless. On the contrary, you must firmly remember this fact.”

In Fu Xingchuan’s impression, it was the first time he had seen Meng Huai with such a serious expression.

“With your abilities, you can completely choose an easier path. The high positions in Shian are not trophies for you to prove yourself… Death is not as simple as you think.”

At that time, Fu Xingchuan only considered it as a general statement. Haigu had good public security and a peaceful atmosphere. During the night, there were only some ordinary evil creatures wandering around, causing minor disturbances. The six Evil Spirits had been sealed for a thousand years. Even if there were one or two accidents, how severe could they be?

He didn’t expect at that time that it would be the last time he saw Meng Huai.

The day after that conversation ended, the “Divine Descent” that hadn’t occurred for a thousand years appeared once again.

And on the two-hundredth day after that conversation ended, he met the “Xiao Li” mentioned by Meng Huai.

That young man had a proper appearance but a face devoid of expression, like facial paralysis. He was dressed in a suit, with even the top button of his shirt buttoned up, resembling a real estate agent.

“Li Nian, double major in history and folklore at B University, still studying,” the person said, extending his hand to the leader of the previous C-level investigation team. “Please take care of me in the future.”

Fu Xingchuan stood several steps away. The sunlight shining on the young man who called himself “Li Nian” reflected a dazzling light.

In a daze, that glimmer of light coincided with the reflection of the ring under it. Fu Xingchuan woke up from his memories, finishing the last sip of beer. Li Nian had already started tidying up the table, still maintaining that indifferent appearance as if the sky could collapse and it wouldn’t matter.

At a glance, this person really hadn’t changed at all.

If Meng Huai really married this guy, he had no idea what kind of life they would have together.

Unfortunately, Meng Huai made him think it through, and she herself was no different. She could command ghosts and control corpses, and she had the awareness. But if she chose a different path, such as becoming a detective, it would be safer than being in Shian after all…

Detective…

A wave of sweat broke out, and the alcohol in the beer completely lost its effect. Fu Xingchuan immediately took out his tablet and quickly browsed through the missing persons files from twenty-eight years ago.

Names, genders, ages, past occupations, level of involvement in metaphysical matters…

As he looked through the information, Fu Xingchuan wiped the sweat off his face.

With one hand scrolling through the screen, he took out his phone with the other hand and dialed Yin Ren’s number directly.

……

When Yin Ren was awakened by Fu Xingchuan’s call, he felt a sense of desolation in his heart.

He had just fallen asleep with Zhong Chengshuo, and the bed was still not warm when they were abruptly awakened by the intrusive ringing. To make matters worse, Zhong Chengshuo, who had only just fallen asleep, was now wide awake with a head full of question marks.

Looking at his disoriented and sleepy lover, Yin Ren hugged him by the neck and answered the phone with a hint of killing intent.

“Mr. Fu Xingchuan, you better have an explanation for this.”

Lord Ghost King spoke in a cold tone.

“I rarely work overtime voluntarily, and we had just fallen asleep. If this isn’t urgent, I’ll demand overtime pay from Li Nian tomorrow.”

“It’s about personality.”

Fu Xingchuan said, and Zhong Chengshuo tilted his head, leaning in to listen.

“…What?” Yin Ren didn’t understand for a moment.

“Whether it’s twenty-eight years ago or the ‘corruption material obtained from Old Dog Peng’s place’ that you reported tonight. Not everyone who comes into contact with Evil Force corruption will go missing. Among the missing persons, there must be some commonality.”

“I have also studied every missing person’s case from twenty-eight years ago when I was the department head… Broadly speaking, the missing persons varied in gender, age, occupation, and beliefs. At that time, we never found a common thread among the missing people.”

Yin Ren became completely awake. He let go of Zhong Chengshuo and switched the call to speakerphone.

“Go on.”

“I know Meng Huai, and you know Zhong Chengfeng’s situation. I have a vague understanding of He Huan’s condition from Lu Xiaohe. It’s difficult to obtain this kind of information from unfamiliar missing people. Considering the current situation… their commonality might be their ‘personality’.”

Fu Xingchuan repeated it once more.

“At that time, there were also two elderly people missing from the nursing home. One of them was a highly respected retired teacher, and the other was unemployed but known for their kindness.”

“Among the missing people at that time, volunteers, doctors, teachers, and other professionals accounted for a high percentage. I know it’s ridiculous to judge people’s morals based on their occupation, but they can indeed reflect some traits of the missing people. When analyzing the source of the Evil Force corruption, you can consider it from this perspective.”

Yin Ren became fully awake. He got out of bed and sat up straight.

“I understand, thank you.” Yin Ren said solemnly, “I will consider it.”

With that said, he attempted to get out of bed and continue his research in the middle of the night. However, as Yin Ren approached the edge of the bed, he felt a warm resistance against his abdomen—Zhong Chengshuo extended his arms and hugged Yin Ren’s waist.

Encountering such clinginess from King Yama, Yin Ren didn’t know if he was more surprised or frightened.

“W-What’s wrong with you?” Yin Ren tried his best to remain calm.

“Just wait for me.”

Zhong Chengshuo buried his face against Yin Ren’s back, and the fluffy edge of his nightcap brushed against Yin Ren’s skin.

“I want to go too…”

“I’m researching the nature of the Evil Force, so you won’t be able to help.” Yin Ren tried to pry Zhong Chengshuo’s hands apart. “Our physical conditions are different, so it’s better for you to get enough sleep.”

“Human personality is closely related to the brain and its physical structure.”

Zhong Chengshuo was now fully awake. He finally released his grip on Yin Ren’s waist, and his speech became clearer.

“I happen to have data in this regard.”

“Then you can send it to me, and we can discuss it tomorrow…”

“No, the data isn’t here. We need to go to my base, and we can only do it now.”

Zhong Chengshuo rubbed his eyes and took off his nightcap.

“After catching so many serial killers, what have I done to them… Yin Ren, haven’t you been curious about it at all?”

Yin Ren slowly turned his head. In the darkness, Zhong Chengshuo’s eyes were pitch black and lifeless, like two perfect circles cut out of black paper.

“In my base, there are more than just specimens of evil beings.”


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Criminal Psychology Ch234

Author: 长洱 / Chang’er

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/


Chapter 234

The police officers dining downstairs hadn’t decreased in number.

Lin Chen and Xing Conglian descended the stairs quietly. They crossed the misty and stuffy dining area, lifted the plastic curtain, and walked outside the restaurant.

The summer sunlight was bright, and the gloom of the winter night had dissipated slightly.

If they counted the unfinished last story, Shen Lian changed her testimony a total of four times.

From the perspective of criminal investigation, Shen Lian wasn’t considered an adult at that time, but she was also not a child. The factors influencing the truthfulness of her testimony were likely internal physiological factors and external motivational factors. For example, trauma-related suppression of memory, memory retrieval failure, or external factors that confused her memory were internal physiological factors, while external motivational factors could be simplified as the presence of certain motivations that led her to provide false testimony.

Lin Chen sat down by the small flower bed outside the restaurant and didn’t immediately answer the question. Instead, he said to Wang Chao, “Are the dumplings we ordered still in the restaurant? Can you go and get them?”

“Ah! A’Chen Gege, do you want to eat outside? It’s too hot, and there’s a lot of dust.” Wang Chao shuddered, as if suddenly awakened from the previous cold atmosphere.

Lin Chen looked at the police cars speeding by from time to time and said, “You don’t have to remind me again.”

Xing Conglian kicked Wang Chao and said, “Hurry back inside and do your job. Who gave you the right to question?”

Wang Chao ran back into the restaurant in a gloomy manner. Xing Conglian also sat down, and the shade from the trees wasn’t very dense, so most of their bodies were bathed in the scorching sunlight.

Xing Conglian let out a long sigh. “What a mess.”

“In fact, when you asked that question, you already had a sense of what kind of situation this is,” Lin Chen said.

“So, why did Shen Lian repeatedly modify her testimony and entangle the death of the old homeless man?” Xing Conglian leaned against the tree trunk, pretending to know nothing, as he asked.

“Clearly, Shen Lian is paranoid, but the reason behind her actions isn’t simply because she’s paranoid. Shen Lian has much more serious issues than that. She is adept at lying and has a habit of using deception to manipulate others in order to achieve her own desires,” Lin Chen tilted his head slightly and looked at Xing Conglian.

“It reminds me of Li Jingtian.”

“The people we have to face have always been a certain type, haven’t they?”

“Continue,” Xing Conglian said. “Based on your analysis, what exactly happened that night, and what was Shen Lian trying to achieve?”

“The purpose she was trying to achieve was undoubtedly to protect her personal interests,” Lin Chen said. “Of course, you might ask why she didn’t directly tell the police the truth of the matter and instead chose a very roundabout way to gradually correct her testimony. That is because the truth conflicted with her personal interests, and she chose to conceal it for the sake of her own interests.”

Xing Conglian asked, “Then why did little Shen Lian still go to find the police uncle?”

“Because concealing the truth would allow the people she hated to go unpunished, which would also contradict her personal interests.”

“It seems like a struggle between the evil in human nature, pushing people to worse outcomes,” Xing Conglian said, pulling out a cigarette.

“Your statement is very consistent with the life experiences of most antisocial personalities.” Lin Chen redirected the topic. “But regardless of how many times Shen Lian changed her testimony, we can separate the truth from lies through certain techniques.” Lin Chen shook the case file in his hand.

Just as Lin Chen finished speaking, Wang Chao happened to come out of the restaurant holding a disposable lunch box. The teenager stood by the plastic curtain and grinned at them, making everything feel warm.

However, Wang Chao quickly became immersed in his impending heavy workload.

SVA* was a procedure used to assess the truthfulness of statements. It was based on the assumption that memory statements from real experiences were different in content and quality from those based on creation or imagination. Although it was commonly used to determine the truthfulness of testimonies, it required a structured interview with Shen Lian to be conducted face-to-face. However, now wasn’t the time to focus on these standard procedures. Using the recorded testimonies that Shen Lian gave to Lao Bian back then, they could still achieve the goal of separating truth from lies, albeit with some difficulty.

*Statement Validity Assessment. It’s a tool designed to determine the credibility of child witnesses’ testimonies in trials for sexual offenses. You can read more about the methodology here. Overall, they conduct interviews with the child and assign scores based on what they think is true or false.

Wang Chao squatted by the flower bed and opened his laptop while Lin Chen flipped to the first page of the testimony. He said to Wang Chao, “We will divide the events described by Shen Lian into several parts and analyze the corresponding contents of these testimonies based on standard foundational content analysis. We will use a scoring system to calculate the truths and lies within them.”

Wang Chao’s eyes lit up. “That’s so scientific. I like it!”

Lin Chen turned to the first page. “First, all of Shen Lian’s testimonies are obviously disorganized narratives. She first describes the core event of ‘Chen Jianguo killing the old homeless man’ and then goes back to describing what happened at the beginning. Victims who have been sexually assaulted tend to present their accounts in an unorganized and incoherent manner.”

Wang Chao paused at that moment. “What the hell? Shen Lian was sexually assaulted?!”

“Now that you brought it up, let’s look at Shen Lian’s description of the main triggering event in the case,” Lin Chen said.

Wang Chao nodded vigorously.

“In the second version of the testimony, Shen Lian described the encounter between Chen Jianguo and Li Wanru like this: ‘The two of them were hugging against the wall. I don’t know what they were doing. Chen Jianguo took off his pants, and Li Wanru was moaning.’ However, in the third version, this part of the testimony changed to ‘The girl told Chen Jianguo to back off, but Chen Jianguo covered her mouth tightly and smiled. The girl’s pants button was undone, and she started crying.'” Lin Chen spoke calmly. “The latter version includes more descriptions of interactions between the victim and the perpetrator, which can be deemed relatively truthful and given a score of 1.'”

“Why is it 1 point instead of 2 points?” Wang Chao was puzzled.

“Because this is not her eyewitness testimony. She claims to have witnessed Chen Jianguo doing those things to the girl, but her perspective is subjective.”

Wang Chao pushed the laptop away. “Shen Lian was the victim of assault by Chen Jianguo?!? Why didn’t she report it to the police?”

“Because there’s no evidence.” Lin Chen shook his head. “Next, let’s evaluate her next statement. Regarding the details of the old homeless man interrupting Chen Jianguo’s attempt to harm the girl. Shen Lian said she was very scared, and luckily the old homeless man arrived, dropping his bag of garbage like a god descending. The old man had a dirty face and smelled of leftover food, but it made her feel safe.” Lin Chen paused and continued, “In this segment of the testimony, there are many details, including the sense of smell, and many aspects of her subjective psychological description that score 2 points.”

“So, Chen Jianguo didn’t succeed because the old homeless man saved Shen Lian?” Wang Chao said. “Shen Lian wasn’t truly harmed, so she didn’t tell anyone that Chen Jianguo wanted to harm her that night?”

Lin Chen lowered his eyes. “In fact, I really think she didn’t tell anyone that Chen Jianguo wanted to molest her that day. I also think that no matter how many times she repeated this incident, no one believed her. Therefore, when faced with the police at the end, she changed her testimony.”

As they spoke, Lin Chen felt a weight on his shoulder as Xing Conglian rested his hand there. “Don’t overthink it,” he said.

Lin Chen nodded and continued, “Now we come to the most crucial point: how did the old homeless man die? I’ll give you the conclusion directly. Shen Lian mentioned that many neighbors witnessed the dispute between the two, which is true. It’s difficult to determine whether Chen Jianguo intentionally sought revenge and killed the old homeless man. It’s also difficult to determine whether Chen Jianguo accidentally pushed the old homeless man and caused his death. But among all the possibilities, there’s one thing that is true—she did see the ‘corpse’ of the old homeless man that night.”

“So we can’t determine for sure if Chen Jianguo actually committed murder?” Xing Conglian asked.

“I would say that I can’t determine that from Shen Lian’s testimony. I tend to believe that she only knew the outcome of the old man’s death but didn’t witness the actual crime taking place.”

Xing Conglian rubbed his chin and said, “That makes more sense. The old homeless man had a dispute with Chen Jianguo, and neighbors heard the commotion and came out to watch. In such situations, adults would surely send children back inside. So Shen Lian didn’t know who actually killed the old homeless man, and she could only deduce, based on her own reasoning, that Chen Jianguo was the culprit…”

Lin Chen continued, “Therefore, the reason why Shen Lian became so agitated upon learning the true time of the old man’s death also has an explanation. She thought the old man had died, but in reality, he didn’t die on the spot; he lay in the cold rain for several hours before finally succumbing.”

When Lin Chen finished speaking, Xing Conglian didn’t say anything more. They looked at each other, and all the speculation came to a halt. No one wanted to ask the next question.

However, in that moment, they both forgot that Wang Chao was there, a vibrant teenager who, unlike them, didn’t have such a keen sense for these ugly and dark matters.

“What the heck! Did the residents of Xiaolin Lane intentionally ignore and not save him? That’s too cruel! Why?!” Wang Chao exclaimed.

Lin Chen raised his hand, wanting to tousle the teenager’s hair, but in the end, he didn’t, as Xing Conglian pulled his hand away.

Surrounded by bustling police officers, Xing Conglian didn’t care about the gazes around him when he wanted to do something.

So, Xing Conglian held Lin Chen’s hand and answered Wang Chao’s question on his behalf. “Because all the residents of Xiaolin Lane are the culprits.”

Xing Conglian’s voice was low and hoarse, tinged with sorrow.

“Yes, of course, they are all culprits!” Wang Chao shouted, but he suddenly stopped at the last syllable.

Xing Conglian patted the teenager’s head with his other hand. “You just helped us find so many files about Xiaolin Lane, but you didn’t read them yourself. Many of them are complaints about that old homeless man. The old homeless man, you see, likes to sing in the middle of the night and shout at thin air. His makeshift dwelling often emits a foul smell and has scared passing children. There’s even a history of him throwing bricks at residents’ windows when he’s in an agitated state. Imagine if someone like that lived near your home and even the police had a hard time dealing with him. How would you feel?”

Although the sunlight was the same, with Xing Conglian’s narration, Lin Chen felt the surroundings gradually becoming colder. The damp and chilly atmosphere of a southern winter night emerged once again.

That day, Shen Lian was sent back into her house, and no matter what the little girl said before, none of the adults believed her.

One was a well-regarded and helpful neighbor, and the other was a mentally unstable old homeless man. When these two had a dispute, all the neighbors knew whose side to take. Except for the parties involved, no one knew what had really happened at that time. But the only possibility that could align everyone’s testimony was if these people became a community of fate. Perhaps Chen Jianguo pushed the old homeless man, or maybe it was Li Wanru who pushed him. It was even possible that the meddlesome old lady from next door, who was getting on in years, became the killer. No one knew who truly struck the blow, but when everyone came to their senses, the old man was already lying in a pool of blood.

The water in the river emitted a foul stench, black like ink.

People started to blame each other, shifting responsibility, but no matter how they argued, no one could clarify who had actually acted.

Silence fell upon these people, and at this moment, the most influential person would express their opinion.

They would say, “Since everyone dislikes this old man so much, and now we can’t determine who did it, let’s disperse. Tomorrow morning, I’ll report to the police, and we’ll all agree that the old man fell on his own, and we were all sleeping, unaware of what happened.”

This was just a suggestion, and with a suggestion came choices, and the subsequent choices would question human nature.

Numerous psychological studies have shown that, under immense social pressure, people tend to choose conformity.

Some agreed to the choice of distancing themselves from the incident, and as a result, no one made the choice to continue living for this annoying, mentally unstable old homeless man.

Wang Chao grabbed Xing Conglian’s pant leg with a grim expression as if he was about to cry. “But I can’t just let him slowly die in the cold rain just because I dislike this old man.”

“Even if it was an accident and you accidentally pushed him, so you would have to bear the legal responsibility and hefty medical expenses?” Lin Chen interrupted the conversation between Wang Chao and Xing Conglian.

“Yes!” Wang Chao said firmly.

The shadow of the tree fell on the teenager’s face, and the bright spots on his face resembled tears.

“So, you know.” Lin Chen wiped away something that might not have been tears beneath the teenager’s eyes and said to him, “You’re a good kid. There are many people like you, so don’t be too sad.”


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