Chapter 206: Shadows

Beneath the West Building of the Orphanage, there are two underground levels. The first basement is half-below ground, housing a storage room, a mechanical room, and a multi-purpose classroom. The second basement, however, contains an old passage leading to the East Building, as well as numerous structures that have long since been abandoned. Despite being called “new buildings,” both the East and West wings have already stood for decades. In the oldest corners of these wings, even the Orphanage “Guardians” rarely set foot.

Little Red Riding Hood only vaguely recalls being taken down to this western basement by a few older kids back when she was very young. Even then, the place was already dirty, disordered, and forgotten. Now, more than ten years later, it seems nothing has changed. The grimy concrete floors and the peeling, mottled walls give off the feeling that they have always been this way—when the building was first raised, and someday when it collapses, it will remain the same.

Yet Little Red Riding Hood knows that every part of this building does receive at least some maintenance, even these spots that appear forgotten. Volunteers sent by the Council come regularly to inspect all the Orphanage’s facilities, fixing electrical, plumbing, and drainage systems. The adults, within their abilities, do what they can to look after the children. If something truly uncanny had occurred in these old basement corridors, the staff would have noticed.

After all, any “volunteer” assigned here must have training related to the Doors.

Since there haven’t been any reports, that means the change must have happened recently—at least after the most recent routine inspection, these passages were presumably still normal.

“Rats…cockroaches… Huh, not even a single ant.” King, perched lazily on a heavily armored mercenary’s shoulder, sounded casual, yet his catlike pupils seemed to “scan” the entire area. “Use that good nose of yours, Little Red Riding Hood. The air smells musty, but aside from that moldy odor…everything else is way too ‘clean.’”

A faint silhouette of Wolf flickered in the shadows beside Little Red Riding Hood. She furrowed her brow and glanced around at the mildewed walls of the basement corridor. “Were there rats here before?”

“What a dumb question—of course,” King replied, glancing at Little Red Riding Hood as though she were clueless. “Rats and roaches are the best survivors on this earth. Even if all humans died off, those two wouldn’t go extinct. I’ve come here many times, and it was always ‘lively.’”

Little Red Riding Hood fell silent, her expression grave as she surveyed the corridor that looked perfectly normal on the surface. The spectral Wolf pack prowled around her, appearing and disappearing in uneasy, whining motions.

“Let’s keep going,” she suddenly said to King. “I want to check out the connection tunnel between the East Building and the West Building.”

“Alright.”

…

A fully armed task force slipped silently through the shadows between buildings, drawing closer to a structure that appeared quite ordinary at first glance.

Located on the edge of the old southern factory district, the area around it mostly consisted of residential blocks built three or four decades ago. Normally, at this time of day, there would be people outside, but for some reason it was eerily quiet.

It was as if an invisible force had driven the residents away from the streets. Even if someone at a far-off intersection happened to glance toward the block—spotting the unfamiliar vehicles and strange devices set up in the open space—they would shift their gaze swiftly, as though this entire zone had been wiped from their awareness.

A Special Services Bureau Commander in a black uniform stood at the residential entrance beside a mobile “node” device. He looked toward the target building not far ahead: a white-walled, blue-roofed, six-story structure that stood out clearly against the sky. A few inconspicuous “birds” circled its exterior, now and then approaching a certain window on the third floor. Meanwhile, the task force that had moved in was already inside the building, reporting through headsets on what they found.

“This is Hunter,” crackled a voice in the Commander’s earpiece. “We’ve reached the designated floor. The surroundings are secure. Awaiting further orders.”

The Commander told them to hold position, then turned to the operative by his side.

A young Special Affairs Bureau Operative stood with head slightly bowed, focusing on the birds’ shared field of vision.

“Can you confirm what’s going on inside the room?” the Commander asked.

One of the little birds landed lightly on the windowsill of the third floor, craning its head to peer in.

“I can’t see the interior,” the young Operative said quickly, “but I sense leftover traces of spiritual energy. There is definitely a supernatural presence in there. Further perception is blocked, though—there’s some sort of interference in place.”

“Classic Heretic Cultists trick,” the Commander said with a slight curl of his lip. “As long as we know they’re in there… Hunter, prepare to breach.”

“Copy!”

…

A sudden ring cut through the room, interrupting Song Cheng’s work. He grabbed the phone, eyes sharp at the caller ID.

“Yes, this is Song Cheng—what’s the situation?”

A quick, urgent report poured from the receiver. Immediately, Song Cheng stood up behind his desk.

“What do you mean by ‘they’re all dead’? Clarify—are you saying all those who were taken by the Angel Cultists were killed? Were innocents sacrificed, or the original residents of that building…?”

The command officer on the other end spoke a few tense sentences. Song Cheng’s expression grew grim.

“…You’re telling me those TM* Heretic Cultists are the ones who are all dead?!”

[*Translator’s note: “TM” here is an expletive abbreviation in Chinese slang.]

…

Yu Sheng sat on the second-floor balcony of the East Building, gazing through the window at the children playing in the courtyard. The older kids led the younger ones across the yard in a wild chase, their laughter echoing. A faint smile rose on his face.

He sensed a subtle connection forming between himself and these children, as if he could faintly perceive their carefree moods rising from the courtyard below.

[This is wonderful,] he thought, [like the clear sky overhead.]

“It’s lovely,” Irene said. She had climbed onto the windowsill beside him to watch the scene outside. There was a wistful note in the little doll’s voice. “Kids’ happiness is so simple. I just wish they’d stop chasing me all over the courtyard.”

“They really like you,” Yu Sheng replied with a chuckle, glancing at the doll’s disgruntled expression. “I saw it just now in the classroom—two little girls wanted to help you do your hair, right?”

“That’s what terrifies me!” Irene nearly slipped off the windowsill. “I watched them rip a doll’s head off to comb its hair. It freaked me out!”

Foxy had been standing nearby with a thoughtful look. She now broke her silence. “So now, because of the Benefactor’s witch-blood spell, all the Cursed Children in this Orphanage are under your protection, correct?”

“Yep,” Irene said, swinging her legs over the windowsill. “Seventy-odd kids in total, all under Yu Sheng’s…well, let’s just say they’re connected to him now…”

Yu Sheng shot the doll an exasperated look. “You could phrase that better than ‘all landed in my hands.’”

But Foxy ignored Irene’s teasing and went on seriously, “This is only a temporary measure—right now the Benefactor’s power protects the children already under the Fairy Tale’s influence, but eventually new children might be affected too. We still have to find a fundamental solution.”

“Exactly. We need to address the root,” Yu Sheng said with a sigh. “I wonder what Little Red Riding Hood has uncovered. [I’ve been feeling unsettled for a while now,]” he added, glancing at the sky.

Irene’s expression turned serious. “We can’t ignore a hunch like that—could it be your Spiritual Intuition sending a warning?”

“It’s not that strong,” Yu Sheng answered after a moment’s thought, giving a cautious nod. “I’d say it’s around the point where my Spiritual Intuition ‘wavers slightly.’ It hasn’t escalated to ‘pounding away like crazy.’”

Irene looked at him in disbelief for a moment before blurting, “You have the weirdest way of describing things—who could possibly know what you mean by that?”

Yu Sheng scratched his head, but before he could speak again, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed along the corridor. All three on the windowsill turned to look and saw Little Red Riding Hood striding toward them, the chubby tabby Cat trailing behind.

By the look on the girl’s face, Yu Sheng could tell she had discovered something important.

“What did you find?” he asked immediately.

Little Red Riding Hood raised a hand to pause his questions, speaking quickly, “The rats and roaches have vanished from the West Building’s basement.”

Yu Sheng froze, glancing at Irene for a moment. “Uh…congratulations?”

“Is that something to celebrate?” Little Red Riding Hood snapped, clearly annoyed. “It’s obviously a sign of something abnormal! Anyway, I wasn’t finished. King and I followed the tunnels all the way down, and near the ventilation shaft that links the West Building to the East Building, we found something…”

As she spoke, she pulled out her phone and brought up a photo for Yu Sheng to see.

He took the phone, curiosity piqued. The picture, taken in the dimly lit corridor, was somewhat blurry. Even so, he could make out layer upon layer of overlapping silhouettes on the wall.

Yu Sheng frowned, trying to decipher these shadowy shapes. After a few seconds, he drew in a short breath.

“They’re trees,” Little Red Riding Hood said softly. “Faint light passing through a forest would cast those patterns. In the West Building’s underground passage, the walls now bear the shadows of a black forest.”

(This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation.)

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