Chapter 188: The Angel’s Name
Yu Sheng’s vision was once again violently shaken, accompanied by a series of chaotic exclamations and piercing noises. It seemed that the Heretic Cultists, who were trapped in the Dream Entry state, were being overwhelmed by intense emotional turmoil. Yet, despite the violent shift in emotions, Yu Sheng was stunned to see that the dream did not collapse immediately. Instead, it began to reveal something…
Something unimaginable, something horrifying and unnerving.
The abandoned warehouse before him collapsed, along with the ground and sky gradually cracking apart. The dark silhouettes that had surrounded the ritual site began to dissolve one by one, merging into the air, transforming into massive, swelling clouds. Something deeply hidden within the subconscious of the Heretic Cultists had been forcibly unearthed, unleashed by the imbalance of the dream—unfurling wantonly before Yu Sheng’s eyes, as if reveling in its release.
He saw a colossal projection—a gigantic egg—floating amidst the fragmented ruins left after the warehouse had been torn asunder. The egg’s surface glinted with a metallic sheen, countless flickering micro-lights resembling eyes embedded within its ridges and grooves, winking sporadically. A low, humming vibration emanated from within, as if some vast mechanical structure was operating inside.
In the next instant, the massive egg suspended in mid-air ruptured, and from its core, a torrent of flesh erupted, grotesque tendrils sprouting from the fissures, blindly groping through the air like grotesque appendages. From the sky, the tendrils drooped down, writhing aimlessly. Then came a new sound—a baby’s cry…
Shaking, trembling, and shrieking. Yu Sheng suddenly felt his consciousness plummeting, a feeling akin to a rapid descent. At that moment, he heard Irene’s voice in panic: “Holy crap, this guy woke up!”
Reality snapped back in an instant. Yu Sheng gasped deeply, as though a drowning man had just breached the surface. Almost simultaneously, he turned his gaze and saw the Angel Cultist—who had also just opened his eyes wide and was gasping for breath.
Fear and fury twisted the bald man’s face, gone was his previous air of detached enlightenment and superiority. His gaze was fixed upon Yu Sheng, as if ready to leap at him in the next moment.
Yu Sheng calmly rose and looked at him, then spoke in a deep voice, “An-Ka-Ai-La—what does that word mean?”
Unexpectedly, upon hearing the word, the Heretic Cultist burst into a furious roar, struggling against the electric shocks from the restraining device as he lunged forward: “Your filthy mouth is not worthy of uttering His…”
Before he could finish his sentence, a silver-white tail lashed through the air and struck him with a brutal impact, sending him crashing against the wall. Yu Sheng barely had time to react before Foxy, a blur of motion, pounced and grabbed the cultist by the leg, slamming him repeatedly into the ground. Finally, she tossed him aside like a broken doll. Realizing the man was barely breathing, she hurriedly cast a healing spell, her previous haughty demeanor replaced by frantic panic.
Irene, standing nearby, stared in disbelief. “Wow… you’re pretty quick with your hands.”
“Just heal him enough to keep him alive—the rest is up to the Special Affairs Bureau,” Yu Sheng remarked, gently patting Foxy’s head. Then he gestured towards the surveillance camera on the wall. “All done here.”
Moments later, the heavy security door creaked open with mechanical sounds, revealing Song Cheng and Bai Li Qing, accompanied by several armed guards.
Yu Sheng approached with Foxy and Irene, and before Song Cheng could speak, he said in a grave tone, “We need a quiet place. This is a big problem.”
Bai Li Qing gave him a long, thoughtful look before nodding. “My office.”
After a maze-like journey through winding corridors, elevators, and desolate rooms, they finally reached their destination—the most enigmatic part of the Special Affairs Bureau: Bai Li Qing’s office.
Contrary to Yu Sheng’s expectations, the office was not opulent or imposing. Though spacious, it was almost bare, with only essential filing cabinets lining the walls and a few monitors. At the center of the room stood a large oval table, while the enormous floor-to-ceiling window behind the desk was the most striking feature. The view beyond the window was shrouded in eternal mist, occasionally shifting to reveal city silhouettes, distant mountains, sprawling fields, or even endless oceans.
The guards and secretaries swiftly left the room at Bai Li Qing’s command, leaving only Yu Sheng, Foxy, Irene, Bai Li Qing, and the reluctant Song Cheng behind.
“You may speak now,” Bai Li Qing said calmly, her gaze fixed on Yu Sheng.
Yu Sheng took a deep breath and spoke with measured urgency, “I’ll get straight to the point—the Heretic Cultists appear to be worshipping a Dark Angel who is either asleep or trapped. If I’m not mistaken, that ‘angel’ is likely imprisoned within the ‘Fairy Tale.’”
Song Cheng’s expression visibly stiffened, his lips twitching a few seconds later. “…Your ‘mountain’ came a bit too suddenly…”
Yu Sheng, as if not hearing Song Cheng’s muttering, continued speaking to himself, “I infiltrated the dreamscape of that Angel Cultist—since I found a loophole in his willpower, he had virtually no defenses within his dream.
“I witnessed one of their gatherings and a typical prayer ritual. Apart from the two you’ve captured, there are still several members hiding in the shadows. When they mentioned their ‘Messenger,’ they described it as being in slumber, needing to be ‘rescued from the abyss.’ They also spoke of ‘shedding the shell,’ which is why I suspect their ‘Master’ is trapped within the ‘Fairy Tale.’
“Additionally, I heard them speak of a ‘vessel’—it seems crucial for their Master’s successful arrival or liberation. The requirements for this vessel are extremely stringent. That member from the Association of Strange Objects, who had already been influenced by the Dark Angels, would have gradually transformed into a devout believer. However, since he didn’t meet the criteria of the ‘vessel,’ they ‘disposed of’ him, claiming that a non-conforming believer would interfere with the Master’s arrival.”
Yu Sheng spoke rapidly, each word sinking in as Song Cheng’s brows furrowed deeper, and even Bai Li Qing, normally stoic, showed a hint of gravity in her gaze.
The mere mention of the ‘Dark Angels’ was enough to make even the Director of the Special Affairs Bureau tense.
“Did you manage to discern which specific Dark Angel those cultists are following?” Bai Li Qing asked abruptly, her tone stern. “Any names or distinctive traits?”
“They kept repeating one word during the prayer ritual. The pronunciation is roughly like this…” Yu Sheng cleared his throat, recalling it carefully. “An-Ka-Ai-La—something like ‘Anka Aila,’ though there’s a faint vibration and echo in the middle that I couldn’t quite reproduce. I’m not sure if that’s the actual pronunciation or just the Heretic Cultists adding some theatrical flair to the ritual—for all I know, their ritual failed in the end, possibly because they used some counterfeit incense candles…”
Song Cheng: “…?”
Song Cheng was completely lost at the last comment, having no clue what Yu Sheng meant.
Bai Li Qing’s attention remained fixed on that peculiar word, her brows knitting as she unconsciously repeated it, “An-Ka-Ai-La… Anka Aila…”
“Does the name ring any bells?” Yu Sheng asked, curiosity piqued.
“No, it doesn’t, but this is the first time we’ve heard a Dark Angel’s ‘name’,” Bai Li Qing replied seriously. “Until today, every known Dark Angel has only been identified by a ‘code name’—like ‘Goddess of Beauty,’ ‘Heka’s Star,’ or ‘Forest Angel.’ These names were assigned by the first recorders based on their traits upon arrival. But ‘Anka Aila’… it doesn’t sound like a code name at all.”
Yu Sheng immediately grasped Bai Li Qing’s point.
He frowned slightly. “Then how do other Angel Cultists refer to their ‘Messenger’? You mentioned the ‘Goddess of Beauty’ and ‘Heka’s Star’—they should have their own believers, right?”
“They also just use the code name,” Song Cheng interjected. “Like directly calling it ‘Goddess of Beauty.’ Initially, angel followers were just ordinary people driven insane. Though they fervently claim to hear their Messenger’s voice, as far as we know, no Dark Angel has ever rationally communicated with a believer, let alone revealed their own ‘name’… We’ve never even considered that Dark Angels might have names.”
Yu Sheng pondered for a moment, then raised his head. “So, it’s possible that these Angel Cultists lurking in Boundary City have genuinely ‘contacted’ a communicative Dark Angel and even learned its true name?”
“Or it could just be those lunatics hallucinating again,” Song Cheng dismissed with a wave. “Maybe they just heard some cryptic whisper after overdosing on whatever substance, took that noise, and fantasized it into a ‘Messenger’s name.’”
Yu Sheng remained serious, not entirely convinced by Song Cheng’s theory.
“Later, you might want to interrogate that bald-headed cultist again,” he suggested. “His mind has already been broken once, and the secrets of his dreamscape have been exposed. A second breakdown should be easier. Maybe we can learn more—like his accomplices or the origin of the word ‘Anka Aila.’”
“We’ll leave that to the Special Affairs Bureau,” Bai Li Qing nodded. “We’re more experienced with standard interrogation procedures.” Her gaze shifted back to Yu Sheng. “And you… what will you do next?”
“The Orphanage,” Yu Sheng exhaled softly. “Those Angel Cultists won’t just stay dormant. If their ‘Master’ is truly trapped in the ‘Fairy Tale,’ they’ll definitely strike again—Little Red Riding Hood’s encounter with that trap might have only been an ‘initial test.’”