Chapter 100

Chapter 100: Communication with the Dead

I had to admit, even among people in the same line of work, the gaps could be ridiculous. Some spirit realm detectives needed two shots of medicine just from glancing at a twisted thing, and later, when they tallied up the profit, their ribs still hurt. Others were like the legendary investigators from old stories—see the otherworld, kick the door open, stroll right in, and beat whatever was inside into a pulp.

But Little Red Riding Hood adjusted fast and refused to take the “Hotel trio” in front of her seriously. According to the Special Operations Bureau’s judgment—and her own—those three “Hotel” members together barely even counted as human. One of them was very likely a high-risk entity. What kind of decent person competed with an entity over “otherworld adaptability,” anyway?

Yu Sheng had no idea what the girl in red was thinking when she suddenly fell silent. He just circled the eerie, terrifying “sacrifice” victim again, trying to find more clues.

Curious, he asked, “If a person did this, how messed up would they have to be? I can understand sneaking in to steal something—since we’re basically here to steal too—but after stealing, they still pulled this stunt. Why?”

“A religious ritual. The sacrifice was probably the real goal. Taking the Weeper statue might’ve just been a bonus,” Little Red Riding Hood said, shaking her head. “People who do this are usually cultists or extremists. They want power, enlightenment, blessings, or the ‘attention’ of some bizarre existence through sacrifice to the otherworld. And judging by how much mental pollution this victim is already producing… whoever did this was an expert.”

“People like that exist?!” Yu Sheng’s eyes went wide. “People actually follow something as creepy as the otherworld?”

“They don’t follow the otherworld. They follow power—things from higher dimensions. The otherworld is just the most convenient path they’ve found to reach the supernatural. And yes, there are plenty of them,” Little Red Riding Hood said with a sigh, revealing another side of the world to Yu Sheng, the clueless newcomer. “Holy Revere Hermitage, Blackpoint Group, Angel Cultists, and that Convert Assembly that wanders the otherworld until it can’t even be sure it still counts as human—any of them might do something like this.”

She paused, her expression turning complicated. “The otherworld… a lot of people suffer because of it. It exists in the Borderland, and it exists in worlds beyond the Borderland too. We can save many people, but even more don’t get saved in time. They fall into… the other side of the world, and never come back.

“Those who aren’t saved but also don’t die either go insane, get taken away by the groups I mentioned, or become something beyond human. The influences in the otherworld can reshape the mind in extreme ways—tempted by power, bewitched by hallucinations, controlled by false memories. It happens all the time.

“If you think about it, you should know this too. With so many strange otherworlds and dangerous entities, once you’ve had enough contact with them, not everyone can stay strong-minded and cling to humanity forever. Some people will always go down the wrong road. It’s just that…”

“Just that?” Yu Sheng asked before he could stop himself.

“It’s just that this kind of illegal intrusion isn’t common in the Borderland,” Little Red Riding Hood said grimly. “The entire Borderland is monitored by the Node Network. So how did the intruder in the museum sneak in?”

“Then the Special Operations Bureau is going to have a headache,” Yu Sheng said, shaking his head as he stepped toward the sacrifice victim on the platform. “The nodes were set up by them. If there’s really a hole in that net, it’ll be a disaster.”

Little Red Riding Hood saw what he was about to do and blurted, “What are you doing?”

“Taking him down,” Yu Sheng said, like it was obvious. “He’s dead. He shouldn’t keep suffering like this. I’ve seen it—I can’t just ignore it.”

“Watch out for a curse! This kind of thing is best left to the Special Operations Bureau’s deep div—” Little Red Riding Hood cut herself off mid-sentence.

A fully geared Special Operations Bureau Deep Diver might not even have higher resistance than the man in front of her.

“Do we need to preserve the scene?” Yu Sheng turned and asked, genuinely curious.

“…Yes.” Little Red Riding Hood thought for a moment, then nodded. “We’d better not touch anything. Leave it to professionals.”

“Oh.” Yu Sheng exhaled, disappointed. He’d already reached the platform, studied how the iron thorns were wrapped, and found an opening. He’d even grabbed a section without barbs, ready to yank hard. But with the reminder about preserving the scene, he let go.

After hesitating, he nodded toward the kneeling victim. “Sorry, brother. I’m not a pro either. When we get out, I’ll report to J— I mean, the Special Operations Bureau, and have them send someone to take you down.

“Hang in there a little longer.”

Little Red Riding Hood stared at him with a strange expression. Yu Sheng noticed and turned back. “What?”

She almost blurted, I didn’t expect you to be so human, but she forced herself to change it. “…I didn’t expect you to have so much heart.

“Too many things happen in the otherworld. A lot of people get used to it. When they see a victim, they mourn for a second, then go report it so the Special Operations Bureau can send a corpse collector. Hardly anyone cares as much as you do… or even talks to the dead.”

Foxy frowned. “Isn’t that a little cold?”

Little Red Riding Hood sighed. “In the otherworld, even a corpse can become a danger. It’s common for a victim’s remains to turn into the next attacker.”

Yu Sheng waved it off. “I can’t help it. I’m a rookie. I don’t know this stuff.”

As he spoke, his fingertip brushed the edge of the platform.

He touched nearly dried blood.

Everything went quiet in an instant.

It happened all at once. Yu Sheng didn’t even understand it at first—he just saw Little Red Riding Hood, Irene, and Foxy freeze in place. Then the entire hall rapidly lost its color. Black, white, and gray washed over the exhibits, turning the space dim and oppressive.

Yu Sheng stood there blankly for two or three seconds. Then he heard a faint creak behind him.

It sounded like stiff joints forcing themselves to twist. In the silence, the noise was almost piercing.

Slowly, Yu Sheng turned his head.

The corpse on display—wrapped in iron thorns, drained of blood—turned its neck too.

One face tightened in horror. The other was smeared with blood.

“Wha—” Yu Sheng started, then stopped, because the corpse spoke.

“The one who killed me…” Its lips moved with a hoarse, scraping sound. “The one who killed me was… was…”

Yu Sheng still didn’t understand what was happening, but the hesitation nearly drove him insane. “Get to the point! Stop worrying about grammar!”

The corpse suddenly sucked in a breath.

“The ones who killed me were Angel Cultists. Two men. One was about 1.7 meters tall—short and heavy, black hair, crew cut, glasses, in his thirties, with a mole on his forehead. The other was about 1.8 meters tall, very thin, bald, high nose bridge, in his forties, wearing a silver watch on his left hand. While they did it, they kept repeating things like ‘you will help His descent’ and ‘save the savior from the sea of suffering.’ Their accent was thick—Five Pines River area in South City. They didn’t take the Weeper statue. They threw it into the corridor across from here. They weren’t interested in that. They came to do the sacrifice ritual. It hurt so much…”

The corpse rattled off the words at an unbelievable speed, like a machine gun. It even seemed to bite its tongue once or twice. Then, abruptly, its whole body relaxed.

It lifted its head slightly, gazing toward the ceiling of the white hall, and murmured like someone drifting into a dream. “Ah… eternal peace has come to take me…”

Slowly, it lowered its head, returned to the Weeper pose with its face covered by both hands, and went completely still.

Yu Sheng stood beside the platform, stunned. The speech had been so fast he hadn’t even processed it. When the silence crashed down again, he couldn’t help it.

“Hey, wait! Can you say that again?!”

The corpse didn’t respond.

Instead, the black-white-gray world vanished in an instant. The hall snapped back into color. Irene, Foxy, and Little Red Riding Hood moved again—as if nothing had happened at all.

Irene was the first to notice Yu Sheng’s expression. She tilted her head. “Huh? What is it? Why do you look so serious all of a sudden?”

Yu Sheng jolted like he’d been yanked awake. He sucked in a breath and turned to Little Red Riding Hood.

“The killers were Angel Cultists. Two guys. One was about 1.7 meters—short and heavy, black hair cut short, glasses, thirties, a mole on his forehead. The other was about 1.8 meters, skinny, bald, high nose bridge, forties, wearing a watch on his left hand. They kept saying stuff like ‘help His descent’ and ‘save the savior from the sea of suffering’—I don’t remember it perfectly, but that’s basically it. Their accent was thick, from South City—something about a river, Five Pines River. They threw the Weeper statue into the corridor across the way… I almost forgot that part.”

Little Red Riding Hood stared at him, completely blank.

“…Huh?”