Chapter 197

Chapter 197: Squirrel’s Story

“You. Which Little Red Riding Hood are you?”

Yu Sheng didn’t blink as he stared into Squirrel’s eyes. His voice was calmer than ever—and far more serious.

Squirrel swayed anxiously, shifting its weight, then scratched at the fur on its face. “I… I’m Squirrel.”

Yu Sheng didn’t move. “Fine. Then which Little Red Riding Hood is Squirrel?”

Squirrel went still.

“Answer me,” Yu Sheng said, steady. “You should’ve noticed I’m bringing changes to the Black Forest. If you truly want to help Little Red Riding Hood, this might be your closest chance.”

The palm-sized animal finally stopped fidgeting. It stared at Yu Sheng for a long time, as if weighing the last place it could retreat to.

At last, it lowered its head, defeated.

“The zeroth.”

Yu Sheng’s brows snapped together. “…What does that mean?”

“You’ve already seen it,” Squirrel said, voice small. “The first Little Red Riding Hood brought the first fire and candlelight. The Black Forest slowly evolved into what it is now.”

Its paws twisted together hard.

“But have you ever thought about what came before? Back when the Black Forest didn’t even exist yet? Maybe… all of this had a beginning.”

Yu Sheng didn’t speak. He only watched it, telling it to continue.

“I…” Squirrel swallowed. “I was the original mistake. Everything started with me.”

Each word sounded like it scraped on bone.

“I was the Squirrel in the Black Forest. The first living thing on the stage. I was… the bad child who handed out the fairy tale book that night. I—I didn’t know it would turn into this…”

Yu Sheng felt like lightning had struck his skull. “You handed out the fairy tale book?”

He leaned in, voice sharp. “To whom?”

“I don’t know,” Squirrel said, flinching, but it didn’t run. “I don’t know what they were, or where they came from. I can’t remember clearly anymore.”

It squeezed its eyes shut as if trying to force the memory into shape.

“I only remember something falling from the sky. It was after lights-out at the orphanage. Everyone was asleep. I should’ve been asleep too, but I wasn’t.”

Its voice trembled.

“They fell into the yard without a sound, like they melted into the ground. I was terrified. I didn’t dare move. I hid in bed.”

Squirrel’s breathing sped up.

“Then a glowing thing floated over to the windowsill. It swayed in front of me. They said they came for help. Their child was in a terrible state and needed soothing. They came to a place with many children, hoping someone could help…”

Squirrel’s paws clenched.

“I was so scared I didn’t know what to do, so I gave them the fairy tale book by my bed. I told them to read stories. When a child couldn’t sleep, Teacher would read to us…”

Its voice broke.

“I should’ve been asleep. I shouldn’t have looked out the window. I…”

The words dissolved into a dull, desperate mumble.

“If only I’d fallen asleep. I should’ve just gone to sleep… I should’ve just gone to sleep…”

Yu Sheng finally understood.

Squirrel had once been a child from that orphanage—so long ago it predated the deep-dive operation from seventy years ago, even before the first outbreak of Fairy Tale.

And from what Squirrel had just confessed, there was so much more you could infer.

Yu Sheng steadied himself, set the guesses aside for now, and gently touched Squirrel to pull it out of the spiral.

“I have more questions,” he said. “What did the thing that ‘fell from the sky’ look like?”

Squirrel jerked as if waking from a loop. It wrestled with its memory for a long time before it managed, “It was hard to see. It was glowing. I only remember an oval shape inside the light—like an egg with strange patterns.”

It swallowed.

“At first it was huge. When it fell, it felt like it could flatten half the orphanage. But it shrank quickly. By the time it landed in the yard, it was only about the size of the little tin shed where the tools were kept.”

Squirrel’s voice dropped to a whisper.

“It dove into the ground in one go. No dust. No sound. At first I thought I was imagining it.”

Yu Sheng listened, mind racing.

Glowing. Oval. Strange patterns.

He didn’t know why Squirrel described it as growing and shrinking, but he recognized the outline.

“Did the voice ever tell you its name?” Yu Sheng asked.

Squirrel scratched at its cheek fur hard. “I… I don’t remember. But they probably said it. It’s been too long. I can’t even remember what Teacher taught…”

It hesitated, eyes unfocused.

“But there was a sound. It started with An. Like An-something…”

“Anka Aila,” Yu Sheng said, careful and slow.

The moment the name left his mouth, his muscles tensed—then he realized the forest didn’t react, and the small box in his hand stayed quiet. Only then did he breathe again.

“Was it that name?”

Squirrel froze. Then it jumped in shock. “…Yes! Yes! That’s it!”

Its eyes went wide. “But how—how did you know?”

“I’ve traced things this far already,” Yu Sheng said, pressing a hand down gently to steady it. He could feel Squirrel trembling all over, like it might panic itself into snapping.

“Relax. I still have questions.”

Squirrel shrank by instinct, but it didn’t pull away. “Squirrel doesn’t want to answer anymore. Squirrel is tired.”

“One last question,” Yu Sheng said.

“…O-okay.”

“That voice you spoke to—what was its child like? Did you see them? Or did it describe them to you?”

“No.” This time Squirrel answered instantly. “I’m sure. I didn’t see them, and I didn’t hear any description.”

Yu Sheng held its gaze for a few seconds, then nodded once.

“All right. I understand.”

Squirrel sagged with relief.

It paced along the windowsill, then sat down. From somewhere, it produced a thin little stick, flicked a flame from the tip of its tail, lit it, and sucked on it like a cigarette.

Yu Sheng had seen it smoke before. He sighed and let it be.

Squirrel wasn’t that child anymore. Now it was Squirrel of the Black Forest—cute enough to make you forget it was a creature of nightmares.

Yu Sheng opened the wooden box again to check the angel umbilical cord.

It lay quietly on the velvet, with no sign of reviving further.

He started to close the lid—

And felt a wide, stunned stare from the side.

Yu Sheng looked up.

Squirrel was staring at the box as if it had seen a ghost. It didn’t even notice the cigarette slipping from its paws and dropping to the floor.

“How… how do you have that?!” Squirrel shrieked.

“You know what this is?” Yu Sheng jolted. “Do you know what it is?”

“Umbilical cord!” Squirrel shouted—then, as if afraid of disturbing something, it dropped its voice to a hiss. “I’ve seen it. But I can’t remember when. It must’ve been very early, when the Black Forest had just appeared.”

It swallowed hard.

“Later… later Anka Aila lost it. They kept searching, but couldn’t find it. And then they stopped showing up. They hid somewhere very deep…”

Yu Sheng’s frown tightened. He believed Squirrel, but the question wouldn’t go away.

If Anka Aila lost the umbilical cord, then why had Old Zheng gotten one during a ritual?

Squirrel crept forward on the windowsill, gathering its courage. It leaned in and stared at the cord for a few seconds.

Then it made a small, confused sound. “Huh? N-no… that’s not right. This looks different from what I’ve seen.”

“Different?” Yu Sheng asked.

“Yeah.” Squirrel hesitated. “It looks similar, but it feels more like… an imitation. The real umbilical cord was longer. Not shriveled. And even though it was soft, it felt like metal. The one you have… is a fake.”

“A fake?” Yu Sheng blinked. “Are you sure?”

“It feels that way,” Squirrel said quickly, backpedaling. “I’m just Squirrel. I can’t remember a lot of things…”

Yu Sheng fell quiet, then looked to Irene and Foxy.

Neither of them had spoken, wary of startling the already twitchy little animal.

“Old Zheng prayed to the Dark Angels, and they gave him a fake umbilical cord…” Irene murmured, her expression strangely complicated. “Why does that feel so wrong? What’s the point?”

Foxy frowned, thinking hard. “Maybe they made a fake sample and had Old Zheng help them search.”

Irene stared at her. “…You seriously think that?”

“Yeah.” Foxy nodded earnestly. “If I lost something, I’d get people to help me look too.”

Then she turned to Yu Sheng. “Right, Benefactor?”

Yu Sheng thought for a moment, then nodded. “Sounds reasonable.”

Irene’s face twisted. “…You’re both insane.”

“Either way,” Yu Sheng said, not getting stuck on it, “even a fake has power. Maybe carrying it is why we saw what we saw today—the earliest echo the Black Forest ever left behind.”