Chapter 116: The Struggle Against “Them”
From Beyond the World, they descend—Intruders, known as the Dark Angels.
Their heralds, the Angel Cultists, are Human in form no longer—mad zealots, utterly stripped of reason, reshaped under the guidance of the Dark Angels. Their faith has twisted them into reflections of their masters, echoing their impossible nature.
These entities defy natural law, grotesque in form and cursed in essence. They bring with them wide-scale contamination, wielding powers no current science can contest. Even to study them is to court corruption. Yet ignorance offers no hope of survival against such foes.
Yu Sheng, deep in thought, pieced together fragmented images within his mind—attempting to draw the silhouette of the Dark Angels and their wretched followers, hypothesizing on their true nature.
Song Cheng halted their march, allowing silence to cocoon Yu Sheng’s contemplation. Minutes passed before Yu Sheng finally broke it:
“So… if I’m hearing this right, none of you have ever successfully killed a Dark Angel?”
Song Cheng exhaled wearily and spread his hands in helplessness. Beside him, Xu Jiali nodded grimly, voice muffled with frustration: “We’ve tried everything. Every power, every organization has made attempts. But the Dark Angels… they are wrong. They don’t entirely exist where they are observed. Any attack veers off-course when nearing them. And if, by some miracle, you do strike true, it hardly scratches them. Some aren’t even physical. How do you kill a shadow? A beam of light?”
The burly man—nearly two meters tall—clicked his tongue in vexation, then continued: “Our closest brush with success came a decade ago, during the Angel’s Descent operation in the Frontier Sector of the Alglade Star System.
“We had intel—early signs that the angel known as the Goddess of Beauty was about to descend. A heavily armed force was assembled on the plains, injected beforehand with Sanity Blocking Agent, clad in heavy-duty power armor. When the descent began, they unleashed everything—carpet bombing, coordinated assaults, and one final measure: a gravitational bomb, designed to counteract the displacement effect that surrounds angels.
“The surveillance equipment confirmed it worked. The Goddess and her throne were directly hit. For the first time, we gathered data on an angel’s physical durability. At first, she withstood everything. But as the bombardment continued, her form began to crack… to unravel.
“But that’s all we got.
“When the damage reached a certain threshold, the Goddess of Beauty vanished from the battlefield. Our traps, our restraints—useless. Years later, she returned, fully restored.”
Yu Sheng stared, stunned into silence.
The image painted by Xu Jiali went beyond any standard Special Affairs Bureau mission. This was war. An entire civilization—Alglade—united in warfare against a single descending being. And despite the overwhelming firepower, the outcome amounted to nothing more than a temporary banishment.
“This,” said Song Cheng at last, breaking the silence again, “is the maximum harm we’ve ever dealt to a Dark Angel—wound it grievously and force it back. But even that… depends entirely on luck. Most of the time, we don’t even know where or when one will descend.”
He sighed. “And even with all our countermeasures, nearly a thousand soldiers were affected during Angel’s Descent. Hundreds were converted into the Goddess of Beauty’s worshippers. They now live under permanent psychological containment.”
Irene blinked as she absorbed all of this, then murmured in awe, “…This sounds like a battle you can’t win.”
“No,” Xu Jiali shook his head, firm and unwavering. “That mission, despite failing, was a revelation. We hurt her. These things might not bleed, but they can be harmed. They’re not the ‘lords’ the Angel Cultists claim. Our weapons can repel them. One day, we will develop a way to kill them. Maybe we already have the firepower—what’s left is to understand the principles of their descent, and find a way to predict and trap them. If we do that, they’re done.”
Listening to his serious and impassioned rebuttal, Irene opened her mouth, then offered a sheepish grin: “…You Humans are terrifying in your optimism and grit.”
Song Cheng added quietly, “The good news is, the Dark Angels rarely descend into the Real World, and they don’t seem interested in direct ‘invasions’. They don’t seek out cities or densely populated zones. Most often, they descend randomly within the Civilized World—sometimes the Frontier, sometimes even farther. When that happens, the damage is… containable.”
“Strangely enough,” Song Cheng murmured, “the damage caused by their descent into the Otherworld tends to be even more severe. Once parasitized by a Dark Angel, an Otherworld’s danger level typically increases by at least one rank. Even the most stable and harmless realms can become treacherous traps—or worse, we’ve witnessed cases where the very laws of an Otherworld were rewritten, momentarily allowing a Dangerous Entity to slip into the Civilized World… For a force like the Special Affairs Bureau, that’s nothing short of catastrophic.”
Yu Sheng’s gaze drifted once more to the documents scattered across the table.
After a pause, he refocused, steering the conversation back to the case in Boundary City.
“So… those two Servants of the Angel in the Museum—what exactly were they planning?”
“To summon their ‘Lord’ to this place,” Song Cheng replied darkly.
“…They’re insane!” Irene blurted.
“Exactly,” Xu Jiali shook his head. “No one of sound mind would follow the Dark Angels. They’re fanatics—obsessed with their so-called sacrifices inside the Otherworld. Since Dark Angels descend more easily there, they believe defiling a realm through twisted rites will draw their Lord’s attention.”
Yu Sheng couldn’t help but ask, “Does that actually work?”
“Most of the time, it’s just a waste of blood and lives,” Song Cheng replied, waving it off. “Dark Angels rarely respond directly to their cultists’ prayers. But the danger lies in the law of probability. The more chaotic and vile the Sacrifice Activities get, the louder the beacon they send. Eventually—just once is enough—one of them might succeed. History has recorded multiple such Angel’s Descent events.”
“That’s why preemptively eradicating any emerging Angel Cultists is a crucial tactic in containing the spread of Dark Angel incursions. We might not be able to slay an Angel outright, but we can choke out the summonings before they take root. Killing the cultists also slows the spread of informational contamination.”
Song Cheng paused, composing his thoughts before continuing.
“Our operatives will enter the Museum tonight. Their objective is to cleanse the leftover sacrificial grounds, identify the victims, and conduct a thorough sweep—of both the Museum and the connected Old Theater—in case the cultists planted more traps or residual curses.”
“They infiltrated through the Otherworld, bypassing the node surveillance,” Yu Sheng interjected. “Did you ever figure out how?”
“We’re investigating,” Song Cheng said, shaking his head. “The node monitoring system has been fully operational, and with the cultists’ capabilities, they wouldn’t have been able to tamper with the Borderland’s infrastructure unnoticed. Especially not under the Director’s gaze. Our leading theory is they found another entrance—one that’s undocumented, unknown, a hidden path into the Museum.”
Yu Sheng’s eyebrows arched. “There are other entrances?”
“Highly unlikely—but not impossible,” Song Cheng nodded. “After all, an Otherworld is a structured phenomenon constrained by strange laws, partially overlapping with our world. If the rules of entry are met, anywhere can become a doorway. Normally, these entry points are tightly bound to fixed locations, all of which in the Borderland are monitored by the Bureau. But as always—there’s no such thing as perfect certainty.”
Yu Sheng rubbed his chin, mumbling, “So even the ‘unexpected’ gets an open invitation, huh…”
From the corner, Li Lin—silent until now—finally spoke. He looked up at Yu Sheng and muttered, “You opening a Door was our ‘unexpected.’”
Yu Sheng immediately straightened, posture rigid and solemn, as though he hadn’t just spoken those careless words.
Song Cheng cleared his throat, choosing to ignore the exchange. “We came here today mainly to brief you on these matters. Since you’ve already encountered the Dark Angels, you now stand at a higher risk of meeting them again. Better to build up your knowledge early—it might just save your life.”
He stood, preparing to leave, then added, “And of course, if you ever need assistance—from the Special Affairs Bureau, whether for your Spirit Realm Detective work or anything involving the Otherworld and its Entities—don’t hesitate to contact us. We take care of our partners.”
Yu Sheng actually paused to think—seriously think. And just as Song Cheng turned to leave, he remembered something.
“Actually, there is one thing you might be able to help with…”
Song Cheng blinked. “Oh? What is it?”
Yu Sheng looked mildly embarrassed. “Can you do anything about… the food delivery ban at Wutong Road No. 66? Like, couriers can’t open the Door.”
“…Excuse me?” Song Cheng replied, completely thrown off.