Chapter 100

Chapter 100: Talking with the Dead

It had to be admitted that even in the same line of work, skill levels were very different: some Spirit Realm Detectives would faint at one look at an evil thing and later clutch their ribs when counting their pay, while others were like the legendary Investigators in stories, who kicked open the Door to the Otherworld, strode in, and beat the Entity inside to a pulp.

Little Red Riding Hood quickly adjusted her mood and decided not to measure herself against the “Hotel trio” in front of her, because, based on the Special Affairs Bureau’s judgment and her own, the three “Hotel” members added together still did not make one normal person. One of them was very likely a high risk Entity, and no decent person compares “Otherworld adaptability” with an Entity anyway.

Yu Sheng did not know what thought made the red clad girl fall silent. He only circled the horrifying “sacrificer” one more time, trying to spot more clues, then asked with real curiosity: “If a human did this, how twisted do they have to be? I get coming in to steal things, since we are basically here to steal something too, but why do all this after stealing? What’s the point?”

Little Red Riding Hood shook her head and answered: “This looks like an evil ritual. The sacrifice was the real goal. Taking The Weeper might have just been on the way. People who do this are usually cultists or extremists. They hope that by offering sacrifices to the Otherworld they’ll gain power, enlightenment, a blessing, or the ‘attention’ of some strange being. Judging by the strong mental pollution this ‘sacrificer’ already gives off, the one who did the ritual was an expert.”

Yu Sheng’s eyes widened: “There are really people like that? People actually follow a creepy thing like the Otherworld?”

Little Red Riding Hood sighed and explained: “They don’t follow the Otherworld. They follow power and things in a higher dimension. The Otherworld is just their easiest path to the supernatural. Of course they exist, and there are many of them. Holy Revere Hermitage, Blackpoint Group, Angel Cultists, and the gatherings of converts wandering in the Otherworld who may no longer count as Human at all, any of these groups might do this.”

She paused, her look turning complicated as she said: “The Otherworld harms many people. It shows up in the Borderland and outside it too. We can save a lot of people, but even more fall into the world on the ‘other side’ before we reach them and never come back.

“Those who aren’t rescued but also don’t die either go mad, or get taken away by the groups I just named, or turn into something other than Human. The Otherworld changes Human minds in huge ways. People are tempted by power, fooled by illusions, and controlled by false memories. That happens all the time.

“Think about it. With so many strange Otherworlds and dangerous Entities, it’s impossible for everyone who deals with them to keep a loyal heart forever. Some will stray from the path. Only…”

Yu Sheng was listening carefully and spoke when she stopped: “Only what?”

She answered in a graver tone: “Only, this kind of ‘illegal intrusion’ is rare inside the Borderland. The whole Borderland is monitored by the Node Network. How did the ‘intruders’ in the Museum sneak in?”

Yu Sheng spread his hands and replied: “Then the people at the Special Affairs Bureau get to worry about it. They set up the Nodes. If those things have a hole, that’s a huge mess.”

He shook his head and walked toward the high platform where the victim was bound for sacrifice.

Little Red Riding Hood cried out at once when she saw what he was doing: “What are you trying to do?”

Yu Sheng answered naturally as he reached up: “Get him down. He’s dead. We can’t let him keep suffering like this. I’ve seen it. I can’t just leave it.”

She blurted a warning and then shut her mouth halfway through: “Watch out for curses. It’s best to leave this to the Special Affairs Bureau’s Deep Dive…” [Honestly, a fully equipped Deep Diver might not have more resistance than this man.]

Yu Sheng looked back and asked, curious: “Do we need to protect the scene?”

Little Red Riding Hood thought, then nodded: “Yes. We’d better not touch anything. Let the professionals handle it.”

Yu Sheng sighed with regret: “Oh.” He had already found the gap in the iron thorns and grabbed the spot without spikes to pull down, but with “protecting the scene” in mind, he let go. After a short hesitation, he nodded to the kneeling victim on the platform and murmured: “Sorry, brother. I’m not the right person to handle this. Once we get out, we’ll report to the Special Affairs Bureau and ask them to send people to bring you down. I’m sorry you have to stay here a little longer.”

Little Red Riding Hood stared at him with an odd expression until he noticed and turned to ask: “What?”

She almost said what she was thinking, then forced the words to change: “Didn’t think you were so considerate. In the Otherworld, too much goes wrong. People get used to it. Most folks just bow their heads inside, make a note, and report so the Special Affairs Bureau can send a body collector. Not many care like you do, or even talk to the dead.”

Foxy frowned and asked softly: “Isn’t that a bit cold?”

Little Red Riding Hood sighed: “In the Otherworld, even a ‘corpse’ can turn into a danger. The number of times a victim’s remains become the next attacker is not small.”

Yu Sheng waved a hand: “Can’t blame me. I’m a newbie. I don’t know the rules.” As he spoke, his fingertip brushed the edge of the platform.

He touched the nearly dried blood.

The world went still in an instant.

Everything happened so fast he didn’t understand at first. Little Red Riding Hood, Irene, and Foxy froze where they stood. Color drained from the grand hall until it turned dim and heavy. Black, white, and gray flooded the entire Exhibition Hall. After two or three seconds of dazed silence in this still world, Yu Sheng heard a faint creak behind him.

It sounded like stiff joints forcing themselves to move, so sharp in the calm that it made his ears ache.

Yu Sheng slowly turned his neck.

The corpse on the display, wrapped in iron thorns and drained of blood, also slowly turned its neck.

One face grew more horrified. One was smeared with blood.

Yu Sheng blurted half a word and then choked it off, because the corpse spoke first: “The one who killed me… who killed me is… is…”

Yu Sheng still didn’t understand what was going on, but he got anxious at once and urged the corpse: “Get to the point. Forget grammar.”

The corpse suddenly drew in a breath and rattled off fast: “The ones who killed me were Angel Cultists, two men. One was about 1.7 meters, heavyset, dark skinned, short hair, glasses, a mole on his forehead, a little over thirty. The other was about 1.8 meters, very thin, bald, high nose bridge, a little over forty, a silver watch on his left wrist. While they worked they kept saying things like ‘you will help His Descent’ and ‘save the Savior from suffering.’ Their accent was strong, from South City, the Five Pines River area. They didn’t take The Weeper. They threw it into the opposite corridor. They didn’t care about that. They came to do the sacrifice. It hurt so much…”

The words poured out so fast he seemed to bite his tongue once or twice. Then the corpse’s body relaxed. It lifted its head slightly to look at the white ceiling of the Exhibition Hall and whispered as if dreaming: “Ah… eternal peace has come to take me.”

It lowered its head again, returned to the hands covering face pose of The Weeper, and became still.

Yu Sheng stood there stunned. The speech had come so fast that he hadn’t kept up. After two seconds he couldn’t help calling out: “Wait. Can you say that again?”

The corpse didn’t answer. Color washed back through the Exhibition Hall, and Little Red Riding Hood, Irene, and Foxy all moved again as if nothing strange had happened.

Irene noticed first that Yu Sheng’s expression and the air around him had changed. She looked at him curiously and asked: “Hey, what’s wrong? Why so serious all of a sudden?”

Yu Sheng snapped back to himself, drew a breath, and turned to Little Red Riding Hood: “The killers were Angel Cultists, two men. One was about 1.7 meters, heavy, short hair, glasses, in his thirties, a mole on his forehead. The other was about 1.8 meters, thin, bald, high nose bridge, in his forties, a watch on his left hand. They kept saying things like ‘help His Descent’ and ‘save the Savior from suffering.’ The accent was heavy, from South City, from, uh, Five something River. They tossed The Weeper into the corridor across the way. I almost forgot that part.”

Little Red Riding Hood stared blankly and said: “Ah?”