Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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

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Chapter 216: Goodbye Evil Fruit

In nearly a thousand years, Qi Xin had never tasted “Panic”. But now, her mouth was filled with the bitter taste of panic.

After a Primordial Elemental matured, it accumulated the corresponding emotion within itself. It was like certain marine organisms in the human world that extract toxins from their food and accumulate them within their bodies.

For Elementals, this was an important means of controlling emotions. The entire process didn’t require subjective consciousness to participate—just like how humans cry when they’re in pain and laugh when they’re happy—it was the most basic instinct.

So if Yin Ren was just “Fear” with a slightly peculiar appearance, there would undoubtedly be a buildup of fear within him.

But Qi Xin couldn’t taste it.

She carefully chewed on that piece of flesh, and the fear in her heart grew stronger with each bite. That fear didn’t seep out from the flesh; it grew from the depths of her own heart, spreading wildly.

Qi Xin did sense a power close to that of a Primordial Elemental, but she couldn’t discern any emotions.

Yin Ren could devour Elementals, but he had never displayed the innate power of “Fear” in any battle. This cub tore and dragged its way through life, relying solely on the “destruction” ability that belonged to Fear.

Something was wrong.

Very wrong.

Qi Xin clenched the wings tightly, and the wings tensed up as if they were trying to fight her.

“Yin Ren, what exactly are you?”

As she asked the question, two answers had already formed in Qi Xin’s mind.

The first one was a naturally mutated and deformed Fear.

Qi Xin had assumed that once Yin Ren matured, he would be able to unleash “Fear” in battle. Although Yin Ren had obtained immunity to emotions, he didn’t possess the ability to “instill fear in all things”. As for what other potential this guy might still have, Qi Xin had no idea.

In this case, Yin Ren could at least be considered a Primordial Elemental. Oh, how she wished it were true.

The second possibility was that Yin Ren was something that had never appeared before—born through the human world, an unknown shadow lurking in the dark.

He reminded her of a cuckoo bird*—a “foreign object” that infiltrated among its kind, destroying and plundering its surroundings as a child, deliberately obtaining guidance from the great Elementals before taking flight.

*Clarity: Some cuckoo birds are brood parasites that lay their eggs in the nests of other species. The chicks are then taken care of by the host’s nest and raised until they can survive on their own.

This possibility made Qi Xin extremely uneasy.

Since the human world could give birth to pests like the Charon, it wasn’t impossible for it to give birth to extremely bizarre monsters. After all, Old Fear only changed its form but still existed in essence, far from being considered “degraded”.

As long as Zhong Chengshuo’s daily needs were met and the quality of life improved, Old Fear couldn’t unleash its true form. In exchange, it gained the ability to roam both sides and an immortal physique. Those pitch-black eyes still retained the unique authority of “Fear”.

But what if the Fear from the Other Side had always been present?

What exactly was this monster before her, born from the flesh and blood that absorbed Fear? It had just completed one transformation, but what would it become afterward?

[What am I?]

To make matters worse, Yin Ren, her opponent, responded quickly. This time, his thoughts carried a hint of amusement.

[A thousand years ago, I wasn’t quite sure. And now, I’m still not quite sure. Shouldn’t you be the one teaching me about this?]

The clump of wings writhed in Qi Xin’s hand. When it was in Zhong Chengshuo’s hands, it would only flatten into a soft and warm bundle, but now it felt like a hot iron, hissing and corroding Qi Xin’s palm.

[But it’s not a big deal. We can put it aside for now. It’s time for you to teach me how to “find people”.]

Before Qi Xin could reply, Yin Ren continued on his own. He used the clump of wings to send Gao Mengyu’s cat back to the courtyard, and the red veil on the sea of wings still fluttered and swayed like a transparent tide.

[I’m counting on you, senior.] He said. [At this point, there’s no turning back for you and me.]

……

During this period, “Fear” wasn’t idle either.

Zhong Chengshuo sat to the side, focusing on watching Meng Huai give a small class to the three cultivators, Ge Tingting, Huang Jin, and Fu Tianyi. Dr. Cat and Lu Xiaohe were busy confirming the details of the operation with Xiao Zheng—logically speaking, that should have been Zhong Chengshuo’s job.

Comrade Xiao Zhong, who had always been dedicated to his work, finally rebelled for once.

He listened attentively to Meng Huai’s explanation of mixing flesh and blood and the little tricks of using the repulsion. From time to time, he recorded carefully on a piece of imaginary paper and pen, looking as serious as a junior high school student on their first day of school.

“Things imagined cannot harm Elementals. But if you mix them with prepared flesh and blood, they can be useful.”

Meng Huai scribbled on the whiteboard.

“Just like Chengfeng’s gun—she’s familiar with the internal structure and operational principles of firearms. As long as she uses blended flesh and blood instead of gunpowder, she can use it to attack. But since you don’t have a deep understanding of the structure and feel of firearms, it’s difficult for you to imagine it precisely, so this technique won’t work for you.”

“Next, you need to imagine the weapons you’re skilled with and enchant them with the Elemental’s flesh and blood—failure is fine, we can separate the flesh and blood without wasting it…”

Zhong Chengshuo listened attentively, recording every word in his notebook with neat handwriting.

“Little brother, you can’t take the things you imagine with you.” Zhong Chengfeng sat down next to her supposed younger brother.

Compared to when they first met, this policewoman had become more cheerful and talkative.

Her younger brother had a handsome appearance and was clearly a well-behaved child. He definitely wouldn’t encounter the kind of trouble she did in the police station. Although her younger brother’s physical age was older than hers, fortunately, he didn’t exude a sense of age in his appearance, which made Zhong Chengfeng feel at ease.

It had been close to thirty years since she had taken care of her parents. Even though Zhong Chengshuo had directly declared his “adopted son” status, Zhong Chengfeng still showed a concern that seemed blood-related.

“I’m used to taking notes. It helps me organize my thoughts,” Zhong Chengshuo obediently replied.

Zhong Chengfeng clicked her tongue. “You’re truly the ideal obedient child for our parents. When I used to sit quietly at my desk for half an hour, they would burn incense in gratitude. It’s good that you’re saving them the worry.”

“They have always missed you,” Zhong Chengshuo said honestly.

Zhong Chengfeng paused, and her expression suddenly filled with a hint of bitterness. “…I know.”

Her gaze shifted to her own knees, and she fell into a brief silence. Zhong Chengshuo decided to bring up a topic to strengthen their familial relationship.

“Actually, recently, I encountered a problem. You’re a police officer and have seen many troublesome things, so I wanted to consult your opinion.”

Zhong Chengfeng turned her head, and her eyes brightened. “Tell me about it. I’ll do my best to help.”

She had spent more time on the Other Side than in the human world. The previous world was like a dream full of wonders, and she wanted to savor every detail.

So she particularly liked these types of questions.

“Well, a long time ago, I used to work at a company…”

Wait, Lu Xiaohe mentioned that her younger brother graduated from a prestigious university and came to Shian for an internship right after graduation. Although Lu Xiaohe’s gaze was always strangely unfocused when she mentioned it, she didn’t seem to be lying.

Zhong Chengfeng kept the question in her heart and listened attentively.

“In my department, I was the only one. Usually, I didn’t socialize with any colleagues. The salary was neither high nor low, just enough to feed myself. Besides sleeping, I only worked and had nothing else to do. At that time, I thought it was good enough to have enough to eat and didn’t consider anything else.”

Zhong Chengfeng: “…” What a miserable job. Even if he had a degree in bioenvironmental science and a master’s from A University, why did he end up like this?

“Later on, a few colleagues didn’t like me. They dragged me into an alley and beat me up, destroying my contract and identification documents. I couldn’t go to work anymore.”

Zhong Chengfeng felt a bit suffocated, and her blood pressure visibly rose a bit. “…Didn’t you report it to the police? What about labor arbitration?”

“At that time, I didn’t know anything,” Zhong Chengshuo said guiltily. “In any case, I left that company. Now I not only have enough to eat but also have my own life, loved ones, and family. I’m much happier than when I was mechanically surviving.”

“Then what do you want to ask me?” Zhong Chengfeng scratched her head. This should be a good ending.

“Now, that company can’t continue operating. They haven’t been able to find suitable people for my position.”

Officer Zhong’s sense of justice suddenly ignited. “They deserve it, right? We should have a celebration feast when it shuts down.”

“To maintain their operations, the company will resort to less decent methods. It will harm many innocent people and even involve my family.” Zhong Chengshuo shook his head. “Even if I want to help, my physical condition is not suitable for that kind of work anymore. That’s the current situation.”

“Um, are you really not considering reporting it to the police?”

“They won’t be able to catch them.” Zhong Chengshuo raised his eyes.

Zhong Chengfeng, being knowledgeable and experienced, didn’t ask further. “But you said your health is not suitable. If you go back, it would be like risking your life as a secret agent. Sacrificing yourself for such a garbage company is not worth it. Finding someone else to take over the position would be a bit unethical.”

“That’s right.” Zhong Chengshuo tightened the grip on his notebook. “And there are some things that… only I can do.”

The situation on the Other Side was delicate, and he didn’t want Yin Ren to become “Fear”.

Furthermore, Zhong Chengshuo had a vague feeling that the path of growth for Yin Ren might not be as smooth as Qi Xin imagined. Even if he was a special individual within the biological population, the difference between Yin Ren and himself was too great.

“In other words, it won’t work without you. But you don’t want to go back, and even if you did, you couldn’t do what you did before.” Zhong Chengfeng toyed with the gun in her hand. “Hmm… I have heard some gossip in the Economic Investigation Bureau. Partners lose trust in each other and go their separate ways, causing a mess.”

“But I don’t know much about these things, so I may not be able to provide a plan. I have only one suggestion—since you have made up your mind to intervene, you should show off your muscles properly.”

Zhong Chengshuo looked at her in confusion.

Zhong Chengfeng gestured in the air. “There are some things that only you can do, and you have to magnify this point. ‘It can’t be done without me.’ That’s a remarkable bargaining chip.”

“Afterward, whether it’s paying you as a consultant to mentor new recruits or bringing up old issues for compensation, it will be a powerful negotiation tool. But abilities are not credible without proof, so it would be best to have some project evidence…”

Zhong Chengshuo fixed his gaze on her. After about half a minute, he looked at Meng Huai, who was still lecturing diligently, and then turned his head to Zhong Chengfeng. The latter felt a little uneasy under his gaze. “What’s the matter?”

“You’re right,” he said. “My idea has become more refined. Thank you.”

Zhong Chengfeng: “…You’re welcome?”

“Next, I want to ask you for a favor.”

Zhong Chengshuo stood up and signaled for Zhong Chengfeng to follow him as he walked towards the slightly ajar door of the “armory”. After Zhong Chengfeng entered the room, he carefully closed the door, making sure no sound would escape.

The body of small-scale Elementals hung silently, emitting a chilling aura. Zhong Chengfeng’s smile seemed a bit forced, and her hand instinctively approached the gun handle. “What’s the matter? Why the secrecy?”

“I want you to help me separate the flesh from this weapon,” Zhong Chengshuo said in a low voice.

“I need purer materials; the current ones are not very suitable. This thing is quite special, and it’s inconvenient to show it to others.”

Zhong Chengfeng narrowed her eyes. “Show it to me.”

Zhong Chengshuo took a few deep breaths and pulled out the short knife, the “Evil Fruit”, from his backpack.

When Meng Huai had her accident, Zhong Chengshuo hadn’t “been born” yet, so the Evil Fruit had remained sealed deep in the Shian’s warehouse. Zhong Chengfeng was just an ordinary person. Even though she had been trained like a science post, Meng Huai wouldn’t have taught her this.

In theory, neither of them had seen the real Evil Fruit.

As expected, when Zhong Chengshuo pulled out a short knife, Zhong Chengfeng relaxed her brow. “You want to separate the evil flesh from it? I’ll remind you, once it’s separated, the knife as a base won’t hold up—even if you can substitute it with imagination, it won’t return to the human side.”

“It’s okay,” Zhong Chengshuo said sincerely. “This was given to me by someone else… Sister, when you separate it, don’t touch it. It’s a bit dangerous.”

The term “sister” was particularly sincere, and Zhong Chengfeng appreciated it.

“A self-defense cursed spirit weapon, huh? In that case, put the knife on the ground and imagine a container.”

“Mm.”

Zhong Chengfeng skillfully imagined a set of tools. She used tongs to hold the Evil Fruit and placed it on top of a glass funnel. Then she took the glass bottle that Zhong Chengshuo had imagined and placed it below the funnel.

After completing all this, she took a big step towards the low cabinet in the cold storage and took out a bottle of clear oily substance. “This is extracted from Elemental flesh and can dissolve the Elemental flesh in the weapon.”

She opened the cap and poured half the bottle onto the Evil Fruit in the large funnel.

The Evil Fruit made a hissing sound as it dissolved. It wrinkled and deformed like a thin plastic sheet exposed to fire. The beautiful crimson layer on the blade gradually separated from the knife, flowing down the funnel and dripping into the small glass bottle that Zhong Chengshuo had imagined.

It was a dim red liquid flowing with countless vortices, captivating and breathtaking. As the last bit of the blade dissolved, it lay silently in the glass bottle, beautiful like a dream.

“This is truly…”

Zhong Chengfeng couldn’t help but glance at it a few more times.

“Forget it, let’s first separate the extraction liquid. After the separation, let it settle for a few seconds; it will float above the flesh. After separation, we can reuse it… Hmm?”

That pool of red remained motionless, as if the extraction agent had never existed.

Zhong Chengshuo: “…That extraction agent was made from Elemental flesh.”

“Oh yeah, didn’t I mention that?”

“Then it’s possible it can’t be separated now.” Zhong Chengshuo’s tone became even more sincere. “This flesh is quite special.”

Particularly edible.

Zhong Chengfeng: “…”

Zhong Chengfeng: “…Why do I feel like I’ve been tricked by you?”

Zhong Chengshuo touched the bottle for a while—inside the small bottle, there was the flesh and oath of Yin Ren, and he could feel the surging power within it.

“Thank you. I won’t use it for bad things, I promise.”

“Promises mean nothing. I’m a police officer,” Zhong Chengfeng laughed. “I’ll tell Meng Huai about this matter.”

“Of course.”

Just helping to deal with a “cursed spirit weapon with Evil Force”, even if Meng Huai confirmed it with the others in Shian, they probably wouldn’t say much.

—With “Fear” itself here, whether it was a spirit weapon or not didn’t matter.

The small glass bottle was placed deep in the backpack, surrounded by countless white bones. In the darkness, it still swayed with intoxicating light.

Zhong Chengshuo sat back in Meng Huai’s small classroom.

He probably had an idea of what to do with it. What he lacked most now wasn’t materials but knowledge.

“The method of igniting Elemental flesh, how to control the reaction speed, and expand the effect of spells…” Zhong Chengshuo muttered softly while taking notes.

The pen slid across the paper, depicting something besides words.

His gaze swept over the design, which looked like a blueprint for an object.

……

Huang Jin felt a drumming in his heart as he looked at the design in front of him.

It wasn’t that he couldn’t make such a thing; he had already made something close to what Zhong Chengshuo had requested. But whenever he thought about the material for this thing, his hands couldn’t help but tremble.

At this moment, he stood in the secret underground chamber specially constructed by Zhong Chengshuo.

In front of him was a delicate and beautiful lantern.

Zhong Chengshuo’s snow-white bones had been transformed by Huang Jin into an unrecognizable shape and turned into the main body of the lantern. At first glance, this lantern had a simple and beautiful design, with an ivory-colored lampshade and pole. No one knew how many intricate runes were hidden inside its sleek design.

The exterior of the lantern was painted with a breathtaking red. The red seemed to possess life, constantly flowing on the surface of the lantern, emitting a strange shimmer.

Internally, the lantern had a makeshift glass cover made from imagination to shield it from wind and rain. In the center of the bottom, there was a white bone vessel that securely held the remaining “red pigment”—the cursed flesh of Yin Ren extracted from the Evil Fruit.

Zhong Chengshuo had designed everything regarding the amplification structure of the spell, the area of flesh integration, and more. The only thing they couldn’t find was the right material for the wick. No matter how sturdy the material was, it couldn’t withstand the demands of this exceptional lantern.

If they use Zhong Chengshuo body as the material for the wick for the lantern, the “wick” and the “lamp oil” would repel each other and fail to produce the desired effect.

Huang Jin stared at the lantern in front of him with a distressed expression, his eyes fixated. On one hand, he felt that this thing could potentially make his name go down in history, but on the other hand, he wasn’t quite sure if it would result in a good or bad reputation.

“I’ve done my best, but I really can’t figure it out.”

Huang Jin slumped onto the table, wearing an expression that said, “Just kill me already.”

“It’s been days. Why don’t you go find Yin Ren? He’s at least a spiritual genius as the Great Celestial Master. You can consult him without any risk.”

While Zhong Chengshuo continued to frantically write and draw, he responded, “After all, it’s my bones. I don’t want to make him uncomfortable. I need to succeed at least to… “

“I see. You just don’t want to show him that you’re not capable.” Huang Jin snorted. “King Yama always has a plan, always has ideas, and never finds himself powerless… Isn’t that exhausting?”

Zhong Chengshuo glanced at him thoughtfully.

The exhaustion from consecutive work overcame Huang Jin’s fear. Seeing Zhong Chengshuo remain silent, Huang Jin became more determined. “It’s about time you show some vulnerability. According to Meng Huai’s plan, once everyone else is trained, she wants to attempt a rescue mission.”

“Yin Ren promised to help Lu Xiaohe, so if you’re actively arming yourself now, it’s like helping Yin Ren. He definitely won’t think you’re incapable.”

Zhong Chengshuo continued to contemplate. “You understand these things well?”

“Of course.” Huang Jin lifted his gaze. “After all, I’ve mixed with Nightwalkers before. I have a good grasp of this level of human nature; it’s a piece of cake for me.”

“Then why don’t you confess your feelings to Ding Lizi?”

“…Goodbye. I’m going to train with Meng Jie.” Huang Jin quickly changed the subject.

Just as the words left his mouth, the space suddenly fluctuated. Huang Jin thought that Zhong Chengshuo had become angry and quickly darted to the corner, crouching down to hide. Zhong Chengshuo, on the other hand, furrowed his brow and instinctively raised his arm in a defensive posture.

“A confession? What confession?”

Before the sound of the person even arrived, Yin Ren’s figure appeared from the space.

He was still dressed in red, with his long hair flowing. However, this time, the ends of Yin Ren’s hair swayed gently, and his face showed a hint of relief, indicating that he had achieved some progress over the past few days.

Huang Jin relaxed from his protective posture. “Why is it you?!”

“I was practicing moving between realms,” Yin Ren happily replied. “Qi Xin didn’t deceive me. Not bad.”

They had reached a point where they could only go all the way. Although Qi Xin didn’t know what Yin Ren was, she had some understanding of his nature. As long as Zhong Chengshuo was by his side, Yin Ren and Love would never cooperate. The enemy of an enemy is a friend, and at this point, she could only make do with the situation.

So she taught Yin Ren how to move as a Primordial Elemental—

Don’t use your legs, use your imagination. It was like two people on opposite ends of a network, agreeing to enter the same virtual room to play a game. Instead of searching through the underlying data one by one, which would be an enormous task, as long as they found the “shared imagination”, they could find the place.

Just like that white room.

According to Zhong Chengshuo… When that person intended to do something bad, they would surely imagine that basement. Yin Ren tried to imagine it and actually found it. After several days apart, Yin Ren couldn’t help but take two steps to rush over, giving his beloved a firm embrace.

Unfortunately, there was an additional Huang Jin inside.

“Hey, you brought Huang Jin in specially. Are you secretly doing something?” Lord Ghost King marched straight to the table. “Let me see. Let me see.”

Zhong Chengshuo instinctively blocked Yin Ren’s steps. He looked at Yin Ren, then at Huang Jin, and then back at Yin Ren.

Finally, he hesitated and moved his feet aside, lowering his head. “…My experiment hasn’t been successful yet.”

It was rare to see Zhong Chengshuo in such a state, and Yin Ren’s attention immediately shifted from the table. As a mature Primordial Elemental, he extended a strand of hair generously and gently touched Zhong Chengshuo’s hand.

“What’s wrong?” Yin Ren tried to indicate that his hair was movable while asking with concern.

Zhong Chengshuo looked at that strand of hair, and his eyes gradually lit up.

“Give me one of your hairs,” he said. “The longer, the better.”

Yin Ren: “?”

While he made a questioning expression, the hair had already been plucked. The soft hair lay gently in Zhong Chengshuo’s palm, still carrying Yin Ren’s body temperature.

Then, Zhong Chengshuo plucked a few strands from his own head. He took out a clean and delicate bone and carefully wrapped Yin Ren’s hair around it, intertwining it with a few strands of his own short hair to ensure they were evenly mixed.

With this, there was a connection between them—both intertwined with each other. The “wick” and the “lamp oil” wouldn’t violently repel each other.

Looking at that sparkling bone, Yin Ren’s smile froze, and his complexion changed slightly.

Unaware of this, Zhong Chengshuo placed the brand-new “bone hair wick” on the bone vessel and reassembled the lantern.

“What is this?”

Yin Ren looked at the lantern, his throat tightening.

“That is the blood I left on the Evil Fruit, and your… your…”

Once-praised, sturdy, and gleaming white bone.

Zhong Chengshuo didn’t answer.

In his pitch-black eyes, intricate patterns surged—the essence of “Fear” was activated, emanating its unique power. At this moment, that power followed Zhong Chengshuo’s gaze, gathering on the wick.

First, there were small red sparks.

The runes inside the lantern were instantly activated, driven by Meng Huai’s optimized tranquility talismans. The repulsion was contained within a tiny range. Soon, the sparks turned into flames.

Red, gentle flames. They gently blossomed on the bone hair wick, resembling a delicate bud.

In an instant, the red glow illuminated the basement. Like a magnificent sunset, everything was covered in a faint red hue.

But what permeated wasn’t just the beautiful red light.

Under the red glow, Huang Jin huddled in place, clutching his arms tightly. His teeth chattered, and his hair stood on end. Even Yin Ren could sense the slight trembling—

Zhong Chengshuo stood in place, holding the burning lantern, as if holding a setting sun. The red light illuminated his black hair but failed to illuminate his pitch-black eyes.

He stood there, showing a slight smile, exuding an utterly chilling aura that didn’t belong to a human. It was evident that most of that fear had been artificially suppressed. However, its power was still astonishing—like needles piercing the brain. Even though Yin Ren had just experienced a dream training session, his back was drenched in cold sweat.

The most ancient Primordial Elemental… the true “Fear.”

“The prototype has many shortcomings, but the power control is sufficient. Once Huang Jin leaves, we can try high-power operation.”

Zhong Chengshuo announced with satisfaction, raising the lantern slightly.

The principle of this thing is actually quite simple—

Zhong Chengshuo’s essence remained only in his residual eyeball. Previously, he could only exercise limited control by close observation. Now, utilizing the mutual repulsion power of a top tier Elemental, he could spread his abilities in all directions without dead angles.

His innate ability to infect all things with “Fear”.

Whether it was through his gaze or the blade, the range that could be affected was ultimately limited. But what if it was transformed into “light”?

“The experiment is successful.”

Zhong Chengshuo contentedly approached Yin Ren as the flame of the lantern gently flickered.

“Sorry, I used up the ‘Evil Fruit’… As for this lantern, I want to call it ‘Karma’*.”

*Clarity: As explained before, the Evil Fruit’s name comes from the Buddhist term, bitter fruit that arises from the cause of evil… in other words, karma/retribution. So this new name is quite apt.

“Yin Ren, what do you think?”

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

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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

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Chapter 215: Foreign Objects

Since the corruption had been rampant, Li Nian had been living in the Shian Building for the most part.

Superficially, this corruption incident was comparable to an old lady’s foot-binding cloth—long and stinky with no end in sight. But in terms of the severity of the situation, Shian had no need to be so vigilant.

The headache had always laid with the police—under the influence of corruption, the crime rate in Haigu kept rising. Panic was like cracks in porcelain. Once you experienced it, you could never go back to your original state of mind.

Spreading panic was easy, but repairing such damage took a very long time. Nowadays, the past civilization and tranquility had all turned into illusions.

This time, Sunken Society played their hand, and the source of corruption had continuously spread. When the world was in chaos, people naturally turned to seeking gods and praying to Buddha. Many cultivators had seen their businesses thrive, and some had developed ulterior motives. Despite Shian’s repeated warnings, various corruption sources still found their way into the market in various forms.

Some of them had been intentionally spread by unscrupulous Nightwalkers.

At that stage, it wasn’t just a matter of preventing and controlling corruption sources anymore. Fu Xingchuan had returned and acted swiftly, shutting down the night market despite public opposition. The situation had somewhat improved but had still not been completely resolved.

Sunken Society had also been quietly taking action around the surrounding cities near Haigu. Recently, even the neighboring towns gradually experienced chaos. After the chaos had emerged, the “angel’s arm” inevitably followed, offering a buy-one-get-one-free deal.

However, both the subtle urban atmosphere and the entertainment self-media that had exaggerated the “angel’s arm” had not been within Shian’s direct reach. Fu Xingchuan had been busy figuring out how to deal with corruption sources, while Li Nian had repeatedly examined the investigation report of the Coral Reef Group.

When Gao Mengyu’s urgent notification arrived, he had just finished reading the financial report of the Coral Reef Group from the previous year.

“…Don’t get excited, Miss Gao. Please take your time to explain.”

After listening for several minutes, his expression hadn’t shown shock but had gradually become gloomy.

“I understand. Tomorrow’s arrangements won’t change for now. I will personally investigate the ‘angel’s arm’ with you,” he said. “Fu Xingchuan will follow up on the issue you mentioned.”

After ending the call, Li Nian quickly dialed Fu Xingchuan’s number.

“Gao Mengyu’s cat sent a message saying that they had encountered some missing people on the Other Side. There may have been survivors among the remaining missing people, so it would be best to prepare emergency rescue measures at the underground exit.”

“However, considering that the message from Gao Mengyu’s cat is in ‘tablecloth handwriting’, it can also be smoke bombs from Sunken Society.” Li Nian’s tone had remained calm. “We just need to prepare medical resources in advance.”

After saying that, he didn’t wait for Fu Xingchuan’s reaction and abruptly ended the call. A warm dizziness swept over him, and Li Nian unscrewed his thermos and took a few sips of tea—it was as thick as medicinal soup and incredibly bitter that it numbed Professor Li’s tongue.

Did he sleep a total of eight hours in the past three days?

Li Nian pressed his temples forcefully and involuntarily looked towards the window. It was the early hours of the morning, and the city outside was shrouded in a hazy shadow… His position should have belonged to Meng Huai. If that person hadn’t gone missing, she might have been the Minister of the Emergency Management Department.

“Why bother?”

A cheerful voice sounded in his ear.

As the saying went, “one has thoughts during the day and dreams at night*”, but Li Nian hadn’t fallen asleep, and that voice had come out of his dream.

*(日有所思夜有所梦) Proverb that implies one’s mind is occupied with thoughts and ideas during the day that fill your dreams at night.

Meng Huai’s arm rested on his shoulder, and the voice drew closer.

“Xiao Li, be careful not to stay up late all the time, or you won’t grow taller, you know.”

Li Nian tightened his grip on the thermos as his chest heaved dramatically. His other hand barely grasped the phone, and his finger trembled incessantly. It took him a while to steady it on the table.

Then he turned around, and the warm tea splashed out, hitting the figure behind him directly—

Meng Huai was standing right there.

She was wearing the red shirt she had gone missing in, with her hair neatly tied up in a high ponytail. The person wore a delicate bracelet on their wrist, which looked out of place on the scar-covered hand. The ring on the ring finger was identical to his.

The tea splashed onto her, creating a large wet stain in front of her, resembling blood. The aroma of tea permeated the office, and the tea flowed down the fabric, dripping onto the floor, drop by drop.

How real it felt.

The tea splashed onto her, but she didn’t seem annoyed. She stood in the corner of the office, smiling as she looked over.

“It’s an illusion,” Li Nian said in a deep voice. “You’re not her.”

Meng Huai laughed heartily. “Come on, don’t pretend. Little Brother Li, with your personality, how could you easily be influenced by illusions?”

Li Nian stared with bloodshot eyes. He hesitated for a moment, and then he reached out his hand, placing it gently on Meng Huai’s shoulder.

A tangible touch; the warmth of a human being.

“A tangible entity,” he said. “The possibility of an illusion still can’t be ruled out.”

Meng Huai laughed until her laughter caused small creases to form on her nose. “Hahaha! You’re truly something, becoming a minister and still looking so dead.”

Li Nian tried to grab her arm, but Meng Huai dodged as gracefully as he remembered, evading his grasp. Her clothes were still damp and dripping with tea.

Meng Huai made a face at him. “Actually, you guessed right. This is a spiritual perception—thanks to Yin Ren’s communication, I managed to barely project myself from the Other Side. Whether you believe it or not, I will be with you from now on.”

As she spoke, her words softened, carrying a hint of tenderness and melancholy.

“All this time, I’ve been—”

“That’s enough.” Li Nian’s face showed displeasure as he directly interrupted the person in front of him. “You’re not her!”

“The Meng Huai I know would never believe that I joined Shian. Even if there is irrefutable evidence of ‘me becoming a minister’, her first reaction upon seeing me would be to shower me with curses.”

His voice gradually turned cold.

“If you can affect me, you must be something very powerful and dangerous.”

The smiling face of “Meng Huai” twisted slightly. She crossed her arms and calmly interjected, “In your memories, there is no such scenario. What makes you so certain?”

Li Nian remained silent.

“Lao Li!” Fu Xingchuan kicked the door open. “Rare to see you calling for emergency assistance. You—”

“Who are you talking to?” Fu Xingchuan’s expression changed from anxious to perplexed. He looked around, even “sniffed” loudly. “There’s no unusual aura?”

“I’m talking to the ‘angel’s arm’.” Li Nian gazed at the figure standing two steps in front of him. “Meng Huai” was still there, playfully greeting Fu Xingchuan.

Fu Xingchuan’s expression fluctuated, eventually settling on alertness. “Even you…”

“Impressive, Minister Li. You immediately called for backup.”

“Meng Huai” clapped her hands and laughed a few more times. In an instant, her figure flickered, and those warm arms encircled him again, like an embrace between ordinary lovers. The wedding ring on its ring finger shone brightly.

“What a pity—” It blew air into Li Nian’s ear. “From the very beginning, you shouldn’t have engaged in a conversation with me.”

……

The next morning, Dr. Sun left the hospital. But when she left the hospital, she didn’t go home; she went straight to change into work clothes.

Officer Sun, carrying a thermos filled with stewed chicken soup, was waiting near his daughter’s office early in the morning. “Hey, sweetie. Dad stewed the chicken specially last night—be careful, it’s still hot.”

“Where’s Mom?” Dr. Sun took the thermos with both hands.

“The department has been busy lately, but I can find someone to cover for me. She couldn’t leave temporarily.” Officer Sun’s smile was somewhat awkward. “She said yesterday that she can take a break in a couple of days and come to the hospital to see you.”

“She cares.” Sun Qi’an smiled warmly. “Actually, my situation isn’t too bad, and the tumor in my head is stable. The big shots say that as long as I don’t experience severe impact, I might just peacefully coexist with it until the end of my life.”

Officer Sun moved his lips, hesitating for a moment. “Sweetie, please don’t overthink it. Your mother, she…”

“Mom cares about me. Her absence this time has nothing to do with me not being her biological daughter.” Sun Qi’an pushed Officer Sun playfully. “Come on, it’s been so many years. I’m not a grade schooler anymore.”

Officer Sun forced a couple of dry laughs. “Right, my baby girl has grown up.”

Bidding farewell to her father, Sun Qi’an glanced at her phone—the inquiry arranged by Shian seemed to be at 9 in the morning, so she had time to finish the soup. Officer Sun had also specially packed soft pancakes. If they were left for too long, the steam would ruin them.

So she found a lounge, pulled out a soft and fair chair, and wiped the warm tabletop that looked like living skin. The window was slightly open, and rows of arms by the bed swayed in the breeze, casting soft shadows.

Sun Qi’an carefully rolled up her sleeves, attentively tore open the pancake, and dipped it bit by bit into the chicken soup. Halfway through her meal, she wanted a sip of water. A hand appeared beside her, and the water in the cup became perfectly warm.

The touch of the cup was pleasantly warm, although the wall of the cup was a bit thick. Fortunately, the nails forming the cup’s rim were neatly trimmed, revealing a healthy color.

After finishing the chicken soup, she packed up the thermos and stretched lazily in the sunlight.

It was a beautiful day outside, with many translucent arms floating in the air, soft like jellyfish tentacles. ‘Another calm day,’ she thought.

In the dial with blood vessels, the beautifully shaped thumb, middle finger, and pinky finger rotated leisurely. Sun Qi’an looked up at the time, and at that moment, she suddenly felt a vague sense of something strange.

Something is off.

What exactly is wrong?

Oh well, maybe it’s just the weather. Sun Qi’an patted her slightly aching head and felt quite content.

When the hour hand reached 8:50, Sun Qi’an straightened her collar and stepped out of the door.

“Shian’s inquiry.” She clasped her hands tightly. “I need to handle it seriously.”

“Yes.” Her mother—her real mother who had long passed away—wrapped her arm around her shoulder and whispered warmly in her ear. “You need to handle it seriously.”

Sun Qi’an skillfully tied up her hair, held her head high, and walked forward. On the opposite side, behind Li Nian, Gao Mengyu walked with her head slightly lowered, and the two sides coincidentally met.

Sun Qi’an blinked.

On Li Nian’s shoulder, there was also a beautiful arm at rest.

Indeed, she was just being overly anxious. The world was still functioning normally, without anything unusual.

“I actually feel pretty good.”

Once seated, Sun Qi’an smiled gently and beautifully, as always.

“Well, I haven’t encountered anything strange again, nor have I seen any abnormal arms… Maybe you should go and ask others?”

……

At this moment, Lord Ghost King was still suffering inside “Satisfaction”.

If there was a recording device on the Other Side, Yin Ren guessed he must look like a peppermint candy thrown into a carbonated drink. He was being tortured to death by these damned bubbles.

Question: In a snowy landscape, surrounded by blades from all directions with no way to dodge, what should you do?

Answer: Crouch down and protect your head.

After regaining consciousness, Yin Ren didn’t grow taller or bigger, as Qi Xin had hoped. He curled up even tighter than a startled clamshell. Unfortunately, even with less contact with the bubbles, the pain continued to assault him endlessly.

It was too painful.

An old person dreaming of endless artillery fire, a stray dog dreaming of swinging blades, a child dreaming of chasing after their abandoned parents, and a young person dreaming of holding the body of their loved one tightly. From being displaced to the death of a beloved pet, the dark emotions brewed into a pot of porridge, and each burst of a bubble was a mournful cry.

It was too joyful.

A patient dreaming of a day of recovery, a bird dreaming of a warm southern place, a parent dreaming of their deceased children, a middle-aged person dreaming of fantastical encounters that defied reality… Countless satisfactions came pouring in.

Like ice and fire, they alternated the torment. Each emotional bomb exploded on Yin Ren, leaving him bruised and battered.

He had lived hundreds of years in the human world, but here he was like an infant, forced to navigate through the minds of countless young and old souls. Billions of emotions intertwined in chaos and intensity, and he was about to be submerged and crushed by countless minds.

To withstand all this, there were precedents—either, like Zhong Chengshuo a thousand years ago, abandon all emotions, or, like Zhong Chengshuo a thousand years later, use scientific willpower to fortify oneself.

He couldn’t take the second path, but abandoning emotions…

Indeed, incomprehension and indifference may be the only solution to deal with this chaotic mess. It was like being human and not caring about the joys and sorrows of cockroaches. It was also like tender flesh festering and forming thick calluses, rendering it less susceptible to stimuli.

Yin Ren supported his shattered consciousness and suddenly felt a bit sad.

Evil being, Great Celestial Master, Evil Spirit… The cub of Fear. Stripping away the layers of shells, he was just a mortal born of his mother, a flesh-and-blood human. And his opponent was the emotional chaos that had accumulated over billions of years on the Other Side.

No wonder he always had that sense of powerlessness before. Now, completely dispelling the clouds, he truly understood that he was a mere mayfly challenging a giant tree, an insignificant force. To confront enemies far beyond human capabilities, he himself had to become something far beyond human—how fair it seemed.

But he couldn’t make that decision.

Countless dreams flashed by, so beautiful. Yet if he were to abandon the eyes that could understand them, in his eyes, they would be no different from the filthy foam that surfaced from the sewers. In the future, whether it was the life or death of the members of Unit 9, or the subtle emotions on Zhong Chengshuo’s face, it would all turn into trivial dust and no longer stir even the slightest reaction from him.

Yin Ren didn’t like that.

So should he give up? Slipping away dejectedly, resigning himself to fate, living with a sense of powerlessness?

Or should he accept everything completely? If he continued to endure this pain, not even a year, a month, or a day would pass before he lost interest in life.

It was truly maddening. When he first arrived in this era, all he wanted was to enjoy some fresh food and live one day at a time.

“I’m not used to thinking about this…” Yin Ren bitterly mumbled in his mind.

If Zhong Chengshuo were here, he might be able to come up with some fantastic ideas from a Primordial Elemental perspective. No, that wasn’t right either. That guy himself wasn’t very good at handling emotions…

Thinking of this, Yin Ren suddenly froze for a moment.

When did he initially encounter this difficult problem?

[I’m only used to thinking about how “I” can come out unscathed… This is the first time I’m attempting to think about “us”.]

When he was wrapped layer by layer by the “Attachment” Elemental inside the Corpse Cage, Zhong Chengshuo had said that.

[Yin Ren, I will come up with a more suitable solution.]

A more suitable solution.

Yin Ren’s tensed body loosened slightly.

At that time, he first alleviated his loss of control through battle, and then resolved the “Attachment”. There must have been something in that process—something he seemed to grasp…

Either give up humanity, or give up becoming stronger, or endure the pain until it drives him insane.

Why wasn’t there a fourth option?

[…Battle is the best way to release pent-up emotions…] Fragments of memories whispered in his ears.

The Elementals rarely empathized with humans, which was why there was a natural barrier. “Satisfaction” and “Fear” didn’t have brains, so naturally, they couldn’t think on this level.

Various emotions exploded in his mind, and he had always tried to deny them, to dominate them, to manipulate them. What would happen if he gave up resistance and tried to accept these emotions?

Feeling cornered, with no way out, he resorted to desperate measures, shouting for Qi Xin to save him if things didn’t go well!

Yin Ren took a deep breath in his mind and suddenly relaxed his entire body.

An old person dreaming of endless artillery fire, a stray dog dreaming of swinging blades—he squatted beside them, sobbing along with them; a child dreaming of chasing their abandoned parents, a young person dreaming of embracing the corpse of their loved ones—Yin Ren stood nearby, crying louder than them.

A patient dreaming of a day of recovery, a bird dreaming of warm southern lands—he smiled along with them; a parent dreaming of their deceased children, a middle-aged person dreaming of fantastical adventures that defied reality—he recorded these fleeting moments for them.

Yin Ren no longer put up his defenses. He traversed through unordered consciousness, not hiding his own fears and satisfactions. Truly, this was training—a perfect opportunity to temper his spirit. He even began to actively approach those dreamscapes, experiencing the various emotions of the dreamers.

At the beginning, it was indeed painful.

As a powerful Primordial Elemental, a terrifying evil, or a revered Great Celestial Master, he shouldn’t have been affected by these messy emotions. The strong seemed to be expected to trample over thorns barefoot and carve out a path drenched in blood.

But as a mortal, Yin Ren allowed himself to be defeated, tormented, and submerged in the countless ups and downs of human existence. He cried when he felt sad and laughed when he felt happy. Anyway, his skin was thick enough—why not indulge in love, hatred, passion, joy, sorrow, and separation for a while?

He insisted on enduring it.

Gradually, the dam that Yin Ren had built so frantically began to crumble. The water no longer turbulently muddied but instead flowed gradually and gently, forming several clear streams. After an unknown time, the pain brought by great joys and sorrows became more bearable.

Yin Ren closed the eyes of the old person, held the hand of the child, and touched the soft fur of animals. Life in all its diversity, all living beings—that was all there was to it. Having seen so much and understood so deeply, he allowed himself to freely express joy, anger, sorrow, and happiness, as they were nothing major.

Negative emotions could still circulate within him, but he could now accept satisfaction with ease.

Countless illusions brushed by, and in the end, Yin Ren discovered that he was immersed in many bubbles. They only left him with a very small stinging sensation, just like a hug from Zhong Chengshuo.

Those emotions continued to surge, but they no longer engaged in a tug-of-war with him; they swiftly passed through him, like a breeze from the unknown.

He had won.

He didn’t know if this counted as passing, but he knew for sure that he had definitely grown a bit.

Yin Ren stretched himself out triumphantly; with “Satisfaction” being so big, why not expand himself to the fullest? He didn’t know if Qi Xin was watching, but he hoped to annoy her.

He kept stretching, even with fear and caution, still displaying a righteous and confident attitude like a fearless calf not afraid of tigers. He felt as if he had been released from a vacuum-sealed package, ready to expand to the ends of the earth.

Finally, “Satisfaction” seemed to notice something.

Like any undigested organism, countless bubbles separated, and countless vortices merged, forming a large mouth with tremendous suction force. Before Yin Ren could react, he was cruelly vomited out.

He lay sprawled on the tunnel of the Other Side, flapping his wings in dissatisfaction. At this moment, those clusters of wings had turned pitch black, with intricate and obscure patterns swirling within them, resembling Zhong Chengshuo’s eyes.

Yin Ren deliberately grew an eyeball and solemnly examined himself for a while.

New, not bad.

Unfortunately, Ms. Qi Xin’s thoughts clearly went against his.

Qi Xin had followed him throughout the whole process, and now she was floating above the wriggling Yin Ren on the ground, with a face even longer than “Love’s” arms.

Before Yin Ren could open his mouth to speak to her, Qi Xin descended slowly. Her hands scooped up two clusters of wings with a casual gesture, as if she was a customer buying cabbage in a vegetable market. She looked at the flapping soft wings on the ground and her eyes filled with strong disbelief—normally, this great Elemental rarely displayed such intense emotions.

First, she directly infused a state of sorrow.

Yin Ren smoothly accepted it, allowing tears to flow from the small wings nestled at the bottom. He remained expressionless—now he had become a mature Primordial Elemental that could embrace joy, anger, sorrow, and happiness while retaining his rationality. He wouldn’t be shaken by such tricks.

Seeing that Yin Ren didn’t struggle or collapse, Qi Xin quickly plucked off a small wing and chewed on it.

Yin Ren: “?”

How could she start eating them? Did she really think they wouldn’t fight each other?

“Wrong.”

Qi Xin grabbed her hair with her fingers, messing up her previously neat bun.

“Wrong, wrong, wrong—! There’s no taste of Fear! Why is there no taste of Fear?”

……

Qi Xin did witness the whole process.

At first, when she saw Yin Ren stretching his body, she was delighted—this guy had finally figured it out. As the saying went, “It’s survival of the fittest, and if you want to protect yourself, strength is the most precious thing.”

But Yin Ren’s reaction gradually became somewhat strange.

During those long days and nights, he began rolling around, making contact with those bubbles, and diving into whichever dream was more abundant. In the end, that black mass floated and swayed within the bubbles, even emitting a sense of contentment.

The “Fear” she knew didn’t behave like this!

“Fear” should be more silent, colder, like the night in the human world. Long ago, when Qi Xin discovered that Yin Ren possessed the power that annihilated the Primordial Elementals, she was certain that he was the “Fear” cub she had been seeking.

Even if his birth was a bit problematic and his form was strange and peculiar; even if he had too much humanity… a cub was a cub. It was just a matter of training. After all, no one knew what Old Fear looked like when it was young. When the cub grew up, everything would fall back into place.

But now she wasn’t sure anymore.

Yin Ren’s state was indeed that of a mature Primordial Elemental. He stretched his body, exuding a depth that seemed bottomless, but his form didn’t resemble “Fear” at all.

Old Fear was pure blackness. It didn’t have the flapping black wings on the ground, nor the delicate and slightly dazzling thin red veil that gently floated above the wings. It danced gracefully, never ceasing, with its wings fluttering gently.

Swish, swish.

The “Primordial Elemental” in front of her was undoubtedly warm.

“…Yin Ren, what exactly are you?”

---

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

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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

---

Chapter 214: Weakness

Meng Huai’s bodily sensations were beyond the grasp of everyone present. However, the feeling of being completely exposed to the other side, except for Zhong Chengshuo, was clear to everyone else.

It was enough to make one feel disoriented—an unbearable torment even for a second.

Meng Huai was fortunate. As a long-time employee of Shian, she had the means to quickly calm her emotions. Perhaps by a stroke of luck, she imagined the office area in the afternoon—it might be the safest place in the world for her.

Her imagination was hurried and chaotic, and what she imagined was blurry. The entire office area was far less real than what they had previously seen, filled with various distortions, blurriness, and incompleteness, like a crude model with rendering errors.

In the center of this absurd model, Meng Huai held Zhong Chengfeng tightly. She was like a person climbing onto a broken plank in a raging flood, uncertain how long the current situation could be sustained. She didn’t know where they were headed either.

If it were someone else, they might have been crushed by this helplessness. But Meng Huai clung to this lifeline like a drowning person, using an almost terrifying intuition to desperately imagine perfecting this office area. The others watched as the floor became even, the walls became clear, but there were countless damages in the corners, revealing the chaotic movements of the damaged exterior.

This chaos was different from before—a group of predatory Primordial Elementals passed by, enveloping this unfortunate little room. Following these Elementals from the Other Side, the surrounding space changed repeatedly, flipping the world upside down dozens of times.

Meng Huai wedged herself tightly in the doorway of the restroom, preventing herself from losing consciousness due to the turbulence. After an unknown amount of time, this small space finally stabilized again, like a grain of sand settling down after being carried by a school of fish in the current.

It was at this moment that Zhong Chengfeng opened her eyes.

……

“If it weren’t for the fact that we could take care of each other, I would have gone insane long ago,” Meng Huai’s voice came from behind the others.

The imaginary office area gradually peeled away, revealing the present perfect reality of the office area. The imagination dispersed, and the others realized they were still in the same place, not having moved an inch.

Zhong Chengfeng’s nose was still red, but her emotions had already calmed down. She cleared her throat and took over from where Meng Huai left off. “It took us a full four years just to find a safe course of action. During that time, we also had breakdowns.”

Zhong Chengfeng walked to the whiteboard, picked up a red pen, and made a mark as well.

This time, the scene was still the real office area, but outside the window was pouring rain instead of the setting sun.

The interior view was real, making it even more terrifying.

The monitors on one side of the wall were all blacked out, and the white wall was filled with various incomprehensible words written in black and red ink. Meng Huai and Zhong Chengfeng sat facing each other, on the verge of madness.

They carried many “things” within them.

Meng Huai’s skin was embedded with various stone talismans, like growths on her flesh. The inanimate objects seamlessly merged into her skin without leaving a trace. She barely maintained a sitting position with her spine deeply bent.

On the other hand, Zhong Chengfeng had all sorts of miscellaneous objects embedded in her. Picture frames, notebooks, pens, medals—they penetrated beneath her skin, making her resemble a realistic doll, inflated and on the verge of bursting at any moment. She curled up in pain, and her body trembled slightly.

Behind Meng Huai stood a young-looking Li Nian—a college student. He appeared handsome, with relatively plump cheeks and no signs of the thinness and sharpness left by time. One of his hands rested on Meng Huai’s shoulder as he repeated a phrase.

“Meng Jie,” he reluctantly addressed her.

And behind Zhong Chengfeng stood her parents.

“Fengfeng,” they softly called.

Meng Huai lifted her gaze with half of her face swallowed by the stone talismans, and only one bloodshot eye remained. “I can’t imagine it anymore, Chengfeng. I have a terrible headache.”

Zhong Chengfeng bitterly smiled. “I told you we’re already dead. This is hell… and you still don’t believe it.”

Zhong Chengshuo remained silent—he might not understand the subtle emotions involved, but he knew that under immense pressure, people inevitably fantasized about their “cherished ones”.

Just like his own “death”, Yin Ren made a mock flesh puppet of him.

They had been confined in this room for four years, unaware of the outside world and ignorant of their own situation. Even without food and water issues, it was likely more mentally challenging than being stranded on a deserted island. The transformations occurring in these two individuals were somewhat reminiscent of Jiao Lian and Fu Wuya, who were once Charons, most likely subjected to some form of corruption.

At that time, Shian knew next to nothing about the Other Side. These two people might have been wandering on the Other Side with their physical bodies. They had touched what they shouldn’t have touched, consumed what they shouldn’t have consumed, unknowingly violated numerous taboos.

The two deformed figures sat motionless in the center of the room, while their cherished ones stood behind them, mechanically calling out, as if summoning spirits.

Perhaps that was the final thread suspending their consciousness.

“No… we can’t.” Meng Huai struggled to clench her fingers tightly. “If we give up like this, everything will truly be over…”

Zhong Chengfeng blinked her eyes, almost obscured by the objects beneath her skin, revealing a trace of sorrow.

She didn’t speak, but her thoughts were evident in her eyes—by now, they were finished. Time had passed for who knew how long yet their bodies hadn’t aged, and the outside world was filled with endless nightmares. Unknowingly, their exploration outside had led them to become like this.

She lay still, and it seemed that even more objects were accumulating beneath her skin. They piled up on her body, threatening to bend her spine.

Meng Huai reached out her hand, and gradually, a sharp scalpel appeared in her hand.

“Come on, Chengfeng.” She pointed to her legs and feet filled with talismans and stones. “Cut them all off.”

“But you…” Zhong Chengfeng hesitated.

Meng Huai clenched her teeth, and the surgical knife in her hand gleamed coldly. “I don’t know what the situation is here, but I know this is a predominantly psychological space… Perhaps all these things on our bodies are manifestations of mental breakdown. When a person… When their mind is trapped in a dead end, they need external assistance…”

Her tone was extremely difficult.

“If my guess is correct… If you remove these things, I won’t die from loss of blood or anything. If things go smoothly on my side, I’ll help you…”

Zhong Chengfeng extended her deformed arm, “And if it doesn’t go smoothly?”

Meng Huai smiled.

“Then we’ll die together,” she said. “We have each other, so we won’t be alone on the road to the beyond.”

Zhong Chengfeng also smiled with a hint of tears in her laughter as she tightened her grip on the scalpel.

The blade pierced the boundary between the stones and the skin, causing Meng Huai to let out a cry of pain. She exerted all her strength, forcing herself not to struggle or resist. Meng Huai shifted her position, turning her head to look at the upright Li Nian behind her.

“Xiao Li.” She struggled to reach out her hand. “I know this isn’t like you, but… but…”

The imagined “Li Nian” crouched down, grabbing her hand.

“Meng Jie,” he repeated like an exquisitely crafted human repeater. “Meng Jie.”

Meng Huai closed her eyes.

……

Zhong Chengfeng promptly stopped the scene—no one wanted to witness their colleagues or loved ones being tortured.

“In any case, by the tenth year, we were able to freely move outside. Meng Huai will tell you about the methods and procedures later.”

She coughed twice.

“In the following time, we were constantly searching for that white space. According to Meng Huai, there seem to be many people inside. Then, rescuing people became the pillar that sustained the two of us…”

“And then they rescued me.”

The person named “Xiao Zheng”, who was the rear commander, said.

“I accidentally entered here two years ago, not inside that white space. If it weren’t for their timely discovery, I would have probably died in madness.”

“What happened to you?” Huang Jin asked cautiously.

Xiao Zheng’s expression turned bitter. “That day, I was in a hurry to go home for my child’s birthday… I wasn’t paying attention to my surroundings and walked through a door that shouldn’t exist.”

Xiao Zheng’s account seemed familiar. He said that beyond that door was an endlessly looping Shian building, devoid of anyone. He couldn’t find his way back or figure out how to leave. After enduring a week, Xiao Zheng couldn’t bear it any longer. He pried open the elevator doors and intended to jump down the elevator shaft to commit suicide.

Zhong Chengshuo: “Interstitial space.”

Similar structures exist within Sunken Society’s stronghold.

Xiao Zheng forced a smile. “That’s what you call it? It’s more or less the middle ground. Anyway, after I jumped down the elevator shaft, I fell for several days before landing in this place… Haha, at that time, I was almost half-crazed. It was pure luck that they found me.”

“Later on, we also encountered unlucky individuals like me. Most of them were drained by the Elementals after going mad, leaving only a faint impression.”

Xiao Zheng gestured vaguely.

“It’s like the shadows of people after an atomic bomb explosion, stuck on the tunnel walls, not easily noticeable if you don’t look closely.”

After listening to his account, Huang Jin became even more cautious. “Wait, are you really from Shian? You disappeared only two years ago. You must know that Li Nian is the Minister, so why does Meng Huai seem unaware?”

Xiao Zheng looked at Huang Jin in shock. “Brother, I had just joined Shian not long ago, as a C-level investigation team. I only knew the higher-ups with the surname Li… It’s not like you guys don’t know what C-level tasks are like. It’s all similar to stiff like in <Approaching Science>. How could you possibly have encountered the Emergency Management Department?”

Huang Jin, Ge Tingting, Lu Xiaohe: “…”

Indeed, it seemed they hadn’t encountered an actual C-level task before.

What was a C-level task supposed to be like? Why couldn’t they remember? They only remembered meeting Fu Xingchuan every day, and Li Nian would be there tomorrow, so much so that Unit 9 even had two reserved seats for the two leaders.

Whose fault was this, exactly?

Since the Great Celestial Master wasn’t present, they all turned to Zhong Chengshuo, who met their gaze with an innocent expression.

“So, you’ve been investigating the whereabouts of the remaining missing individuals all along.” Zhong Chengshuo skillfully changed the topic.

Meng Huai curiously glanced at the subtly nuanced Shian personnel, but fortunately, it seemed she didn’t want to continue discussing “Li Nian becoming a Minister”. “Yes, and just last year, we found that white space. However, it was different from when I first escaped. There were many powerful Elementals guarding the outside now. If you try to go out, it’s no different from sending yourself to be captured.”

She shook her head, her expression turning solemn.

“This brings us to the key question—why did we attack that group of ‘Lonelies’? All of you, come with me.”

Dr. Cat climbed onto Fu Tianyi’s head in three swift movements and patted the back of his head with its paws. Zhong Chengshuo ran even faster, quickly catching up to Meng Huai.

Meng Huai walked straight to the entrance of the restroom and pushed the door open.

Instantly, the damp air turned icy cold. Zhong Chengshuo took a quick glance, and his expression froze for a few seconds.

Behind the restroom was a massive cold storage room, the product of someone’s imagination. And within this huge cold storage room hung the bodies of small Elementals, packed tightly together. One side had dark-colored organs, while the other side had pale-colored organs, arranged neatly and distinctly, resembling a slaughterhouse cold storage.

Zhong Chengshuo thought silently, ‘…It’s a good thing that Dog Thing is still with Yin Ren and didn’t come here. Otherwise, its power might have been scared into negative numbers right away.’

“Welcome to ‘Shian’s Temporary Branch Armory’,” Meng Huai said.

All the bodies emitted varying degrees of Evil Force. Fu Tianyi silently lowered Dr. Cat’s paw pad and covered his own eyes—it was the first time he had encountered a corruption source of this magnitude, even on a farmer’s market level.

“I saw earlier that you mixed the flesh and blood of two different Elementals together.”

Only Zhong Chengshuo still maintained his complete interest.

Meng Huai nodded. “Yes, you should know that these things can be divided into two categories—Fear represents the initial branch, while Satisfaction represents the other. They can roughly be classified as negative emotions in black and positive emotions in white.”

Meng Huai casually took out two small packets, each containing a small bag of Elemental flesh.

“For example, this one, the black one represents ‘Contempt’, and the white one represents ‘Longing’. When they are mixed together, there will be a clear repulsion reaction.”

She dabbed a bit from each side and vigorously rubbed them together, murmuring to herself. In the next moment, the mixture emitted a faint red light.

“By utilizing the power of this repulsive reaction, I can create some simple spells… The ones from the human world, you don’t even need to think about them. They won’t work.”

Zhong Chengshuo, who didn’t understand, asked, “Why?”

“The spells in the human world are built upon the circulation of evil qi, just like burning firewood,” Meng Huai explained concisely. “Tools designed specifically for burning firewood cannot be directly used to burn gasoline.”

After speaking, Meng Huai revealed a sense of relief.

“Thankfully, I can use this method. Unfortunately, they are all basic things—very simple and primitive. But now that so many cultivators have returned, I finally have a way to discuss optimization.”

When it came to his area of expertise, Huang Jin became enthusiastic. “These are all small Elementals, right? If we obtained the flesh and blood of larger Elementals, would the effects be stronger?”

Meng Huai bared her teeth at him. “Little brother, are nuclear weapons powerful?”

“Uh, powerful?”

“Then should we give every police officer a nuclear warhead?”

Huang Jin: “…”

“It’s just that I got lucky… That white room was undoubtedly made by a big shot. Even just that bell, with a bit of Evil Force can produce such a strong effect. If it were true body parts, Chengfeng and I would have been reduced to ashes long ago.”

Meng Huai clapped her hands.

“By the way, if it’s two big shots of equal strength, even if they are of the same kind, there would still be this repulsion reaction. But it’s difficult to determine such a situation. We can’t beat the big shots, so it’s safer to use the black and white combination.”

Huang Jin quickly moved his steps, distancing himself from Zhong Chengshuo.

Zhong Chengshuo secretly played with the phalanges in his hand. “Whether it’s the repulsion between positive and negative, or the incompatibility between strong individuals of the same kind, does the state of the flesh itself also matter for the reaction to be intense?”

Zhong Chengfeng was startled by her own cheeky brother’s insight. “How do you know that?”

Zhong Chengshuo remained uncharacteristically silent for a while before speaking. “I’m just guessing too. If the reaction appeared randomly, with Primordial Elementals constantly fighting each other internally, the Other Side would have been blown to pieces long ago.”

In fact, it wasn’t just a guess.

He and Yin Ren had indulged in wild and absurd nights several times, inevitably involving biting and kissing. If mere physical contact would cause an explosion, Haigu would likely be leveled by the two of them.

Unfortunately, Meng Huai didn’t know the secret behind it and simply thought the young man had a quick mind. She nodded approvingly. “It’s a pity. If you weren’t a science post, you would have great potential.”

The members of Unit 9 looked at the sky and the ground.

Meng Huai snapped her fingers. “Next, I will teach you how to use the flesh and blood of the Elementals.”

“Can I listen in?” Zhong Chengshuo asked, squeezing his knuckles.

“Of course.”

……

“Next, I will teach you how to survive on the Other Side,” Qi Xin said.

Yin Ren leaned against the soft pile of cats and nodded solemnly.

Qi Xin made an effort not to look at the “Lonelies” scattered all over the place. “Your weaknesses, in my opinion, are laughable—your emotions are unstable, and you have too much humanity.”

“‘Lacking humanity’ is an insult,” Yin Ren retorted. Without any companions around, he was unable to hold back.

“But you’re not human,” Qi Xin replied coldly. “’Disgust’ and ‘Love’ thrive on human emotions, and they are the ones most affected by human influence, yet they haven’t turned into an indecisive mess like you.”

“According to your own words… the first time, in the Fu Residence corpse cage, you nearly lost control due to the influence of ‘attachment’. The second time, you took the poorly made ‘Innocent Thoughts’ created by humans, and your behavior went completely out of control. The third time, you fought against ‘Joy’ and, in order to avoid the influence of the other party’s emotions, you handed control of the battle over to Old Fear.”

Indeed. Yin Ren shrunk his neck.

Qi Xin’s tone grew colder. “You should be the Fear that devours all emotions, yet you have managed to reach this point where even a random cat or dog can make you lose control—separating emotions to a certain extent is an innate skill of all Primordial Elementals. Your condition, if compared to humans, is similar to having an ‘immunity deficiency’.”

Perhaps because he wasn’t created by the heroic mother, “Satisfaction”, but rather as a result of Zhong Chengshuo cutting up half his body, he might even be a premature Elemental. However, looking at the intimidating Qi Xin, Yin Ren suppressed his inner thoughts and asked, “So what should I do?”

Qi Xin had mentioned that her training would be painful and dangerous.

Based on the TV melodramas Yin Ren had seen, at this point, he should either go for a realistic approach like “bone marrow transplant for leukemia” or take the fantastical route of “bidding farewell to the mortal world on the path of ruthlessness”. Yin Ren straightened his back nervously, no longer using the cat cushion.

Qi Xin smiled with that creepy smile again.

“It’s simple,” she said. “Just wait here.”

…The fewer the words, the more significant the matter, and Yin Ren became even more nervous. “Wait for who?”

“Wait for ‘Satisfaction’.”

Qi Xin crossed her arms and had a slightly gloating expression on her face.

Oh no, it seems like it’s not a TV melodrama but Animal World.

Those birds that kicked their offspring out of the nest and forced them to learn to fly on their own might have a similar expression to Qi Xin’s right now.

“You just need to break free from Satisfaction, then you’ll pass.” Qi Xin’s smile grew wider and wider. “Fear and Satisfaction are evenly matched and naturally antagonistic. There is no better training ground than this.”

[I’ll go with you!] Gao Mengyu’s cat, draped in a tablecloth, approached. [I need to pass through it to continue warning Gao Mengyu.]

Yin Ren didn’t object anymore and gripped the soft paw of the cat. “Will I die?”

Qi Xin shook her head. “No, at most, you’ll go insane. By then, I can only try my best to eat you and go find Love for a one-on-one duel.”

Yin Ren: “…”

“You better prove yourself. Don’t make me do those superficial activities.” Qi Xin’s eyes narrowed, and her entire face resembled a mask with narrow slits.

If he wanted to avoid these troublesome matters, now was probably the best chance, Yin Ren instinctively thought.

“I understand. When do we start?” Yin Ren asked.

He just recalled the previous sense of powerlessness, but in an instant, the thought of escape vanished like a dewdrop on a lotus leaf, rolling away.

[It’s coming soon.]

This time, the cat answered Yin Ren.

As native Elemental, for Qi Xin and the cat, the existence of “Satisfaction” might not be much different from a gentle morning breeze. Since “Satisfaction” would come on its own, Yin Ren could only strive to keep his emotions stable and stand quietly in place.

Disgust, Joy, Love, Sorrow. He had the fortune of experiencing the essence of these four.

Speaking of which, he seemed to have never seen the true original appearance of Zhong Chengshuo. In his memory, there were only endless black lakes in the cliffs and the chaotic rabbit jumping and crawling beside the lake. But at that time, Zhong Chengshuo’s body was already torn apart, in a state of struggling for survival.

He had never seen his lover’s true form.

So what would “Satisfaction”, which corresponded to Zhong Chengshuo, look like?

Suddenly, the cats in the courtyard stopped lounging around. They stood up one by one, hastily folding their own tablecloths and hugging them in their soft paws. In the previously silent space, a soft rustling sound suddenly emerged, like the waves of the sea. The sound wasn’t loud, but juxtaposed with the previous silence, it was like a thunderclap.

What was it?

Yin Ren turned around and looked towards the source of the sound.

Then he was rendered speechless.

In Yin Ren’s imagination, Satisfaction might be something like the waves of the sea. It might be much larger than an ordinary Elemental, flooding every corridor and covering the entire Other Side. However, reality proved that his imagination was still conservative.

It was like the line between day and night.

…There was no gradual submersion, but in an instant, it irresistibly and indiscriminately covered everything. The texture of “Satisfaction” appeared to be countless melted brains and nerves, radiating a pure white color, like swirling clouds.

Like the rising sun, the white light instantly engulfed Yin Ren’s vision.

Unstoppable, unavoidable, and impossible to escape. It was like no one could escape the rising sun, capable of covering the first rays of dawn.

In an instant, Yin Ren understood many things, such as why billions of years ago, they would have an infinite fear of “Fear”, and why the creatures of the Other Side didn’t think that “Fear” would be conscious thousands of years ago.

Just a being that governed birth, “Satisfaction” made even someone like him who had experienced storms and waves feel instinctive awe. How could something of this scale, something so close to a natural phenomenon, possess consciousness?

If… If the previous “Fear” was also like this, then his current self could only be described as a cub.

Next, the suffering would begin.

According to Qi Xin, “Fear” and “Satisfaction” were naturally antagonistic, and in the realm of competition, there was always someone stronger. As an ignorant cub, he would undoubtedly be rejected by “Satisfaction”. Yin Ren cautiously closed off most of his senses, waiting for the impending ordeal.

It was like averting one’s gaze and waiting for a nurse to administer an injection—the feeling was truly agonizing.

One second passed, nothing happened, and Yin Ren relaxed his perception a little.

Five seconds passed, still nothing happened, and Yin Ren once again relaxed his perception a bit—his current state was like looking through the cracks between his fingers.

Surrounding him was an expanse of white, with extremely low visibility. Gao Mengyu’s cat was still by his feet, holding his wrist with soft paws. Qi Xin wasn’t far away, and she seemed to have used some technique to prevent the coverage of “Satisfaction”.

In a slightly further distance, mist spun out of nowhere, forming milky white whirlpools.

The whirlpools spun faster and faster, with the central white part gradually darkening and solidifying. After a few seconds, several fist-sized “Lonely” cats trembled and appeared. They stood confused in place, and their sticky limbs reached out in disarray. Some larger cats with tablecloths draped over them crawled over, bundled them up with the tablecloths, and dragged them back to their group.

Newborns.

Gao Mengyu’s cat vigorously waved its soft paws, creating a huge white vortex in the space. It tightly grasped the still-dazed Yin Ren and rushed toward the vortex like a jellyfish.

Before Yin Ren could express his opinion, suddenly, a pile of jumbled and scattered bones appeared behind him. That pile of bones forcefully pushed him, almost stuffing him into the vortex. The force was so strong that if they were in the mortal world, Yin Ren suspected he would have been pushed out of the atmosphere.

That was definitely Qi Xin’s true form.

Yin Ren: “…” What if he successfully transformed into an adult Fear? Wasn’t she afraid of him holding a grudge?

Before he could finish pondering, countless “bubbles” squeezed in. They flashed with a soapy sheen within the white brain matter, incredibly beautiful. However, as they lightly brushed past, the pain was almost enough to make Yin Ren want to dig out his brain.

Those were pieces of information, condensed to the extreme—chaotic information. If the Other Side was a well-ordered internet, then these bubbles were like compressed packages containing countless chaotic consciousness. They expanded and burst in his mind, pouring out numerous emotions like surprise blind boxes.

In just a second, Yin Ren almost fainted.

The cat seemed to be unaware of everything. It clung to Yin Ren with its soft limbs, anxiously navigating through the squeezed bubbles. This time, the frequency of brain explosions increased. Amidst the onslaught of emotions like a gusty storm, his consciousness was like a flickering candle flame that could extinguish at any moment.

No wonder… the previous Fear… lacked emotions…

Only a vegetative-like void could contain so many, so complex…

“Dream.”

Qi Xin’s voice rang out from behind Yin Ren.

“Human beings cannot handle the information of the Other Side; it is said to be a realm of chaos. But in reality, the Other Side is simply too rich in information, and humans don’t know how to deal with it. The Other Side has always operated within order, and it is here that true chaos exists.”

Countless creatures’ dreams, which was the only way for the spirit to self-repair.

Without reason, without logic, only boundless, kaleidoscopic projections of emotions.

[It’s her!]

The cat discovered something, exclaiming in joy. It released Yin Ren’s wrist and swam towards an ordinary-looking bubble. When it reached its destination, it tightly embraced the bubble, attempting to squeeze its eyeballs inside.

[You go ahead, I need to focus.] It solemnly declared.

“Wait…”

Amidst the collision of countless dreams, Yin Ren forcibly held onto his consciousness.

“Is… it Gao Mengyu’s dream… Can you help me… convey a message…”

Finishing his words, he mustered his strength and imprinted a series of words into the cat’s mind.

Just as he completed this task, a dream collided directly with his face. The infinite emotions within the dream exploded in his mind, and Yin Ren completely lost consciousness.

“That’s enough.”

Qi Xin coldly floated in the distance.

The most primal, most chaotic emotions didn’t give any chance for logical understanding and digestion. All they could do was provide repeated and intense stimulation.

Like a whetstone, they could quickly grind away the least important parts. Qi Xin casually tapped on a bubble, causing it to burst into tears at her fingertips.

“Cub, ‘humanity’ is your biggest weakness,” she said.

“To survive as a top-tier Primordial Elemental, you must discard it. Choose between ‘maturity’ or ‘humanity’… If you want both, all that awaits you is madness.”

At the same time.

Gao Mengyu abruptly woke up from her dream, sweat covering her forehead. Barefoot, she ran to the telephone and dialed the Emergency Management Department’s number directly.

“The dream has changed. I’ve received information from Unit 9,” she urgently said.

“I need to see Li Nian. It’s urgent!”

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Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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

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Chapter 213: Escape Method

Meng Huai was quite tall, while Lu Xiaohe, standing near her, appeared petite.

Lu Xiaohe’s mental and physical energy couldn’t hold on for long against the overwhelming memories. They melted and shattered like wafers, revealing the scenes behind her.

The “Lonely” cats took the opportunity to huddle together openly, hiding behind the group of people. Huang Jin and Ge Tingting stood still, with Huang Jin tightly holding Ge Tingting, whose face turned red. They both looked at Qi Xin. Fu Tianyi held Dr. Cat tightly in his arms, nervously holding his breath.

The expressions of Yin Ren and Zhong Chengshuo were different, as if their souls had been exchanged—Yin Ren’s lips were tightly pursed and his mouth turned downward, while Zhong Chengshuo fixedly gazed at Lu Xiaohe’s back with eyes filled with a questioning look.

Meng Huai crossed her arms and still stood at the forefront of the trio. She narrowed her eyes and carefully observed Lu Xiaohe for a while.

“Alright.” She ruffled her hair. “I believe you’re not a person from Sunken Society.”

Upon hearing this, the man behind her immediately showed a hesitant expression. Meng Huai seemed to have eyes on the back of her head as she responded without turning around, “What’s the matter, Xiao Zheng? Do you have any objections to my judgment?”

“I just thought it would be better to be more cautious…”

Meng Huai: “People from Sunken Society wouldn’t be able to show these emotions. If we’re talking about cognitive pollution, I don’t have that much imagination. These arguments seem a bit subjective. Well, let’s say they’re sixty percent accurate.”

The man’s eyebrows twitched, but he remained silent. Yin Ren was familiar with this helpless expression. It was the same expression that Professor Li wore every time he faced the various “intuitions” of Fu Xingchuan.

Being recognized so quickly, even Lu Xiaohe herself showed a trace of disagreement on her face.

Meng Huai didn’t waste any more words. “Miss Lu, let me answer the question you care about the most. I haven’t seen your mother but given that you came here to search for missing people, I probably know where she is.”

After finishing her sentence, she added succinctly, “No one has died or gone insane in the past month, so your mother is definitely fine.”

Her tone was sharp and domineering, making these words sound genuine and convincing.

Lu Xiaohe felt her whole body sway as if a force had been sucked out of her. However, she still stood her ground, trying hard to suppress the relaxation on her face. “But you…”

But she was still unsure if the people in front of her were genuine.

“They are human,” Qi Xin said disappointedly when she realized there would be no fight. “If you don’t intend to fight, don’t waste any more of my time.”

She glanced somewhat regretfully at Yin Ren. Yin Ren pretended not to understand that look—anything that couldn’t force Yin Ren to take action was considered a waste of time in Qi Xin’s eyes.

In a sense, “Sorrow” wasn’t any better than “Love”. Ms. Qi only wanted to train her cub; she genuinely didn’t care about the life or death of humans.

Meng Huai glanced at everyone and beckoned with her finger. “It’s not convenient to talk here. Miss Lu, Mr. Zhong… You, you, you, and that cat, come with me.”

Her finger smoothly pointed at Ge Tingting, Huang Jin, and Fu Tianyi holding the cat, deliberately skipping Yin Ren and Qi Xin.

Yin Ren couldn’t sit still anymore. “Ms. Meng, what’s the meaning of this?”

Meng Huai smiled slightly. “I’ll only take humans to the stronghold of humans. Sorry, but something feels off about you two.”

Qi Xin was quite satisfied with this outcome, and her tone became relieved. “Take them all, they’re yours.”

Mr. Zhong, pretending to be clueless, pondered for a moment and decided to play dumb. He comfortingly squeezed Yin Ren’s hand, took two steps, and walked to Ge Tingting and Huang Jin’s sides.

“I’ll be back soon. It’s a good opportunity to gather information,” Before leaving, Zhong Chengshuo said with a serious expression. “Take good care of yourself.”

Yin Ren: “…” Meng Huai’s intuition was quite remarkable, but unfortunately, she missed the biggest one.

Yin Ren: “Alright, I’ll wait nearby.”

Yin Ren wasn’t too worried about the safety of these people. Although Qi Xin didn’t care about humans, at least she wasn’t foolish—if anyone from Unit 9 died due to Qi Xin’s judgment, he would definitely turn against her. Since Qi Xin voluntarily vouched for them, there shouldn’t be any problem with the identities of these people on the Other Side.

Meng Huai didn’t want to reveal the true identities of the humans to a Primordial Elemental, which was understandable. At least the members of Unit 9 who went along would learn some self-defense skills. Meng Huai had managed to survive on the Other Side for nearly thirty years, so her methods must be quite formidable.

…Zhong Chengshuo might even be safer over there.

This thought was like a thorn that pricked Yin Ren as soon as it emerged. He couldn’t help but hold his breath and look at the retreating figures of his companions.

The two groups of humans met at the gate of the small courtyard.

Yin Ren watched as Zhong Chengshuo rushed to Zhong Chengfeng’s side, urgently saying something, and towards the end, the female officer cried and laughed. Meng Huai kept chatting non-stop with Lu Xiaohe, most likely confirming the situation at Shian.

The remaining rear commander seemed enthusiastic as they chatted with Dr. Cat—this person had only disappeared two years ago, so they must have heard about their famous feline colleague.

On the Other Side, even if the visual distance wasn’t far, Yin Ren still couldn’t hear what they were saying or read their lips. In the end, he could only withdraw his gaze dejectedly.

Gao Mengyu’s cat approached cautiously and rubbed against his hand with its soft limbs.

Yin Ren: “What’s the matter?”

“You smell delicious,” the cat said. “The person who used to feed me would occasionally emit this scent. At those times, she would always come to hug me. Do you want to hug me?”

Yin Ren gently touched the sticky and brain-like limbs of the cat. “Thank you, but no need.”

He watched as Zhong Chengshuo waved at him, and then the group disappeared into the vortex. Silence returned to the vicinity of the small courtyard, and the cats once again pulled out their tablecloth and started lounging on it.

In the vast courtyard, besides the “Lonelies” lying everywhere, only Yin Ren and Qi Xin remained.

Qi Xin: “Cub, what are you thinking?”

“I feel lonely, sad, and afraid, and I’m hungry, like a little match seller.” Yin Ren’s face drooped. “I hate this kind of quiet environment the most.”

“Those humans won’t die.” Qi Xin clumsily comforted. “The woman in charge knows what she’s doing. It was only just now that I realized the existence of those three humans.”

Yin Ren’s face drooped even more severely. “I understand the reasoning.”

Qi Xin fell silent for a moment, then gave up on the “comforting” route and instead asked straightforwardly, “So what’s your plan?”

Only then did Yin Ren turn his head. “I plan to do as you wish and gain power as soon as possible—to become strong enough to easily find those people and go to their side.”

“Oh, I like that.”

Qi Xin revealed that awkward smile again, seeming human yet not quite.

“I’ll say it upfront. The process will be painful and extremely dangerous—without Old Fear around, are you sure you want to try?”

Yin Ren didn’t hesitate for a second. “It’s precisely because he’s not around that I want to give it a try as much as possible.”

“Quite the ambitious bunch you all are,” Qi Xin rolled her eyes and muttered to herself.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing.”

……

Meng Huai’s way of traveling was completely different from the cat legion.

She led everyone out of the tunnel, then took out some fresh black and white minced meat from her personal belongings. She mixed them together, put on a ring on her right hand, and pressed it firmly onto the mixture, drawing a simple symbol.

Compared to the exquisite and elegant magical rituals in the human world, this method was rough, like an ancient ceremony.

But it was effective.

In an instant, the surrounding space cracked like fish scales. Zhong Chengshuo’s vision was filled with wild colors swirling, and his footing shifted between solid and empty. When he stabilized himself, the scene before him had completely changed.

He had never seen this room before, but the door plaque was clear—Emergency Management Department’s dedicated office area.

The details of the room were vivid, and the view outside the window was beautiful. At first glance, Zhong Chengshuo even thought they had returned to the human world.

Under the afternoon sun, the tables and chairs were arranged haphazardly, and several whiteboards were filled with densely packed battle plans. Three camp beds were placed in the corner of the room, with a few pieces of clothing scattered on them. The door to the bathroom was ajar, emitting a damp smell.

On one side of the room, the screen wall in the office area continuously played various scenes.

If this was the real Emergency Management Department, it would probably display images of severe accidents or the latest data analysis from the science division. But at this moment, the scenes on the screen were heartwarming.

A young Zhong Chengfeng showed her parents her first police uniform with a face still carrying a hint of innocence. Young Meng Huai and Li Nian sat on the couch, snacking and watching horror movies. One laughed heartily, while the other remained expressionless. The man who had been missing for two years held a newborn baby, leaning forward to kiss his wife’s cheek, his eyes filled with unwavering love.

One event after another, one moment after another, all the best people and the best times.

They looped on the display screen, occasionally switching to another segment. Each segment was vivid and resembled a recorded video.

“After staying in this hellhole for a long time, we need something to reminisce about,” Meng Huai explained generously when she saw Zhong Chengshuo constantly looking at the screen. “Have a seat. As long as it doesn’t involve electricity and signals, we can imagine and use things—oh, right, don’t imagine food, and definitely don’t touch anything outside that resembles food.”

Huang Jin silently put down the mini shelf he was holding.

Meng Huai smiled at him, grabbed a whiteboard, and quickly wiped it clean. “I’m sure you all have a lot of questions, so ask away. Ah, it’s been a while since I had this kind of mission briefing!”

Ge Tingting was about to speak but was stopped by Zhong Chengshuo.

He may not be familiar with social etiquette, but he knew how to negotiate with “mission targets”.

Although everyone was friendly now, Zhong Chengfeng had basically believed in his identity as a member of the Zhong family. However, her gun was still not put away, Meng Huai maintained a low center of gravity, and the rear commander stayed in a safe corner. These people had been on the Other Side for a long time, so it was impossible to give them complete trust easily.

In this situation, the first question was crucial. It wouldn’t be appropriate if Ge Tingting opened her mouth to ask “How to gain power for battle” or “Do you have any other companions”.

“You said you know the situation of the other missing individuals—where are they? How are they doing now?” Zhong Chengshuo was the first to ask.

Meng Huai raised an eyebrow with a hint of approval on her face. “Honestly, I thought something was off about you, boy. But with that statement, you have a bit of the scent of Shian.”

She casually picked up the pen next to the whiteboard and lightly tapped it on the clean surface.

This moment was like throwing a stone into a lake, causing countless ripples to spread through the space. The images on the display wall paused momentarily, then a blinding white light emerged from the front wall and pressed towards everyone.

Zhong Chengshuo managed to raise his hand, but the white light dissipated before reaching him.

When he opened his eyes again, the other three members of Unit 9, Fu Tianyi and Meiqiu, were all still by his side. However, they were no longer in the Shian Office in the afternoon; instead, they were in a vast white space.

In the white space without any visible boundaries, it was filled with densely intertwined translucent white threads, creating a narrow and crowded environment resembling a white rainforest covered in vines. These threads were everywhere, winding around and forming nest-like structures with graceful arcs.

Zhong Chengshuo glanced at the nearest nest. Within each nest, several translucent white arms gently embraced a white cocoon, which, despite being thickly wrapped, still showed a human shape. Soft and gentle murmurs flowed out from the openings of the nests.

At first glance, it resembled the white world full of giant feet created by “Joy”.

An enemy attack?

No, it didn’t seem like it. There was no hostility around, nor the presence of a colossal being. Compared to the special space constructed by the Primordial Elementals, this place seemed more like…

More like a flashback.

And what happened next quickly confirmed Zhong Chengshuo’s speculation—

“There!” Meiqiu’s tail exploded.

Zhong Chengshuo immediately shifted his gaze, and behind him was a vortex hanging in the air.

Meng Huai, holding the unconscious Zhong Chengfeng, shouted desperately with a hoarse voice, struggling madly within the vortex. “What kind of damn place is this? Comrades, put in more effort! We’re about to drag innocent people into this! We’ll face punishment!!!”

Countless ghostly hands surrounded her, and those fierce ghosts were working together, apparently intending to pull her back to the human world. Unfortunately, the vortex continued to slowly and irresistibly engulf her.

Judging by her appearance, she was wearing the same red shirt, but her hair wasn’t yet disheveled. Meng Huai was covered in sweat and mud stains, and the clothes on her body were twisting and changing, gradually transforming into a police uniform.

“Ah, fuck me. Ahhhhhhhh—”

In the midst of Meng Huai’s sorrowful and angry screams, the vortex seemed like a mouth spitting out two watermelon seeds. It spat out both of them into the space with a “pff” sound. In the next instant, it simply vanished.

The white threads gave her no time to react as they swiftly entangled her from all directions. It was as if countless invisible spiders were spinning around the two of them, determined to wrap them up into two white cocoons.

Yes, two cocoons.

This meant that they needed to separate the two individuals first. The white threads patiently wrapped around their feet, pulling them in opposite directions.

As a candidate for the Minister of the Emergency Management Department, Meng Huai’s reaction speed was extremely fast. She held the unconscious Zhong Chengfeng tightly and quickly cast her spells. The moment she realized that her magic had failed, she reached for her bag of spirit weapons.

Huang Jin sighed on the side. Inanimate objects couldn’t enter the other realm, so it seemed that Ms. Meng Huai’s equipment was more of a liability than a blessing.

Sure enough, she came up empty-handed.

With two failed attempts, Meng Huai’s face twisted in frustration. At the same time, her legs were tightly wrapped by the white threads, and the shape of the entanglement was somewhat similar to the “nest cocoon” that surrounded them from all directions.

However, Meng Huai didn’t give up. She sneered and reached into her bosom.

This time, she pulled out a small ball sealed with a talisman. After tearing it open in three swift motions, a small, aged silver bell appeared, with its silver oxidized to a near-black color.

Meanwhile, the Evil Force surged violently, and the speed at which the white threads entangled them suddenly slowed down, as if they were wary of something.

Zhong Chengshuo: “…”

He recognized this item. It was the silver bell Yin Ren used to wear around his ankle.

During his time as the Great Celestial Master, Yin Ren used the silver bell to warn others, allowing the public to retreat. However, due to its fragile material, the silver bell was lost several times during Yin Ren’s fights against the Evil Spirits. Later on, he replaced it with a bone bell made from his own bones.

In theory, these items should be in the location where the Evil Spirits were sealed, inaccessible to ordinary people. But considering they were excavated by Shian, it seemed quite reasonable.

A typical corruption source of Evil Force, and the Evil Force on it belonged to “Fear”.

Meng Huai successfully brought it into the Other Side.

“Eat shit!”

Meng Huai held Zhong Chengfeng tightly with one hand and tightly clenched the bell with the other, pressing it against the white threads on their feet. Her movements were swift, and the white threads couldn’t avoid it in time, coming into close contact with the black bell.

Crack!

Like a flame igniting a fuse, the white threads immediately caught fire, desperately trying to escape. The black bell also quickly melted, emitting a burning red light, forcing Meng Huai to let go.

The black remnants fell to the snowy white ground. Like a drop of strong acid, it instantly corroded a huge hole, revealing the chaotic gray-black exterior.

On the other side, as the bell shrank smaller and smaller, the surrounding threads began to stir again.

Taking advantage of the bell not being completely corroded, Meng Huai embraced Zhong Chengfeng and, without hesitation, jumped into that chaos.

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