Chapter 207

Chapter 207: Preparation for Conversation With The Dead

Deep in an old, sealed corridor, the wall had shown the silhouette of the Black Forest, which should only exist in nightmares. The moment he heard it, Yu Sheng knew his wobbling Spiritual Intuition wasn’t a false alarm. [So my Spiritual Intuition really was picking up something.]

Moments later, he had already brought Irene and Foxy to the tunnel Little Red Riding Hood named.

This spot sits a bit west of the Orphanage’s center, directly under the outdoor activity area. The corridor has been abandoned for years. The air smelled strongly of mold.

The lights on the ceiling were dim and blocked by rows of pipes, casting broken shadows. The walls on both sides were filthy and peeling. In places you could still see messy graffiti, clearly the “masterpieces” of Cursed Children who had snuck down here to “explore.”

When Yu Sheng’s group arrived, the suspicious tree shadows were gone.

Little Red Riding Hood pointed at a wall on the left: “I took the photo here. The lights suddenly dimmed a little, and the feeling was like the ‘twilight’ of the Black Forest. I had a bad hunch, so I opened my camera by reflex and caught the shadows. It lasted only a few seconds, then it disappeared.”

Yu Sheng studied the wall, then looked up at the lights and the empty spiderwebs tucked into the corners.

He asked, casual but focused: “What’s above this spot?”

Little Red Riding Hood nodded: “The corner of the outdoor activity area. The old plans show that before the renovation, this was part of the courtyard. We haven’t found a clear trace yet, but since we saw an anomaly here, this should be where Squirrel saw that glowing thing fall.”

Yu Sheng grunted and looked down at his feet.

Irene saw the look and hurried to warn him: “You’re not thinking of digging, are you? Don’t. This is the foundation. Those TV plots where someone digs in a basement and unearths an evil spirit are only for TV. In real life you would bring the whole building down first. The Council’s construction safety people will arrive faster than any ghost.”

Yu Sheng waved her off: “I know, I know. I do have that much common sense.”

He paused, then added, thoughtful: “Even without the foundation problem, digging is pointless. According to Squirrel, the thing ‘melted’ into the ground at once. So Anka Aila likely doesn’t have a physical entity, or it fell into another dimension. You won’t dig anything up.”

Little Red Riding Hood frowned: “Then what do you think I caught on camera? It lasted only a few seconds, but it made me very… uneasy.”

Yu Sheng stayed quiet for a long time, then spoke to the air like he was thinking out loud: “Some kind of ‘leak’?”

Irene muttered under her breath: “That already sounds bad.”

Little Red Riding Hood’s face grew solemn. After a moment of thought, she lowered her head to the tabby cat that was grooming itself: “King, keep a close watch on these tunnels for a while. If possible, station an Adventurers team here. Not the warrior mage healer lineup. Send the team with three assassins.”

The tabby cat gave a deep, magnetic sigh: “Life is too cruel for a little cat like me.”

Little Red Riding Hood sweetened the deal: “I’ll buy you cat stick treats.”

King answered at once: “Deal.”

Yu Sheng watched, surprised. He felt he had learned something new about how members of the Fairy Tale organization got along. He was about to ask if “KingKitty” needed to leave The Door for missions and how a cat handled payment, when his phone rang and broke his train of thought.

He checked the screen. The caller was Song Cheng.

He lifted the phone as he walked aside: “I need to take this. Hello, this is Yu Sheng… what?!”

Every ear in the tunnel pricked up at once. Foxy’s ears pricked the highest.

A moment later Yu Sheng hung up, then looked at the others who were craning their necks to listen: “I have to go to the Special Affairs Bureau. Irene, Foxy, you’re coming with me.”

Little Red Riding Hood stepped forward without thinking: “What happened?”

Yu Sheng answered: “They found the two Angel Cultists’ partners. But when they found them, they were already dead.”

Soon after, Yu Sheng led the fox and the doll into Song Cheng’s office.

Song Cheng was used to Yu Sheng’s habit of appearing at his door right after a call. He looked up at the Hotel trio being shown in by staff, calmly put away the papers on his desk, stood, and said: “Come with me. I’ll take you straight to the Angel Cultists’ bodies. I’ll explain on the way.”

Following behind, Yu Sheng and his two “assistants” once again wound through the maze-like halls of the Special Affairs Bureau headquarters. As he walked, Yu Sheng marked coordinates and listened.

Song Cheng explained: “After your ‘interrogation’ of that Angel Cultist, we had specialists conduct a second, surprise interrogation with stronger mental intervention and hypnosis. We finally pried open his ‘mouth.’ We pulled some clues from his subconscious and found the hideout of the other Angel Cultists in the city, specifically the Anka Aila branch. They were hiding near an old factory area, right under the Council’s nose. The raid started this morning. The intel was solid. The address was accurate. Aside from the fact that the cultists were already dead, everything went according to plan.”

They stopped before a white door. Song Cheng gestured for Yu Sheng to enter with him.

Inside was a morgue. Aside from the cameras on the ceiling and a few strange symbols set into the walls, it looked like any other morgue.

Of course, several heavily armed Special Affairs Bureau guards stood inside and outside, which was not normal for a regular morgue.

Yu Sheng stepped in, then glanced back at the doorway. A sheet of paper was posted there with morgue rules, such as avoiding physical conflict with the dead and forbidding the dead to leave the room at will. These were the kind of notices that felt normal inside the Special Affairs Bureau. Yu Sheng no longer found them surprising. [In this building, if you stay in a restroom for more than thirty minutes, a fully armed security team will pull you out of the stall.]

The Angel Cultists brought back by the capture team lay quietly on tables in the center, six bodies in all, lined up in neat order.

Song Cheng went on: “There are no external wounds, and the first check found no internal injuries or signs of poison. They were down in the living room, roughly forming a ring. On the floor they had drawn a Spirit Summoning Technique used to communicate with Anka Aila. It was obviously a sacrifice, and the offerings were themselves. With no visible injuries inside or out, they simply ‘offered’ their lives to their lord.”

Yu Sheng muttered as he looked at the pale bodies: “Self sacrifice. That really fits the cultist style.”

Song Cheng shook his head: “No. In fact, it’s the opposite. Among the Angel Cultists we deal with, self sacrifice is rare. Most of the time, they prefer to sacrifice other people, not themselves.”

Yu Sheng blinked: “Really?”

Song Cheng explained: “Because they truly do have a ‘lord,’ and that lord directly affects their rational thinking. Angel Cultists usually have a clear ‘goal.’ Even if that goal is driven by madness, it is still something they must carry out. So most of them won’t give up their lives easily, unless…”

Yu Sheng prompted him: “Unless?”

Song Cheng’s voice dropped: “Unless they believe their lord needs them to die right now.”

Listening to that, Yu Sheng’s brow tightened. He looked around at the six bodies and drew a slow breath.

He said quietly: “I need to talk to them.”

Song Cheng knew about Yu Sheng’s ability, Conversation With The Dead. He waved the guards at the door to clear the room, then looked at Yu Sheng with a straight face: “What ritual materials do you need? The Special Affairs Bureau can give you the best setup. As long as you can make these cultists ‘speak after death,’ name it.”

Yu Sheng almost waved it off to say his Conversation With The Dead runs on instinct and needs nothing. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Irene, and a thought clicked: “All right. Take this down,” he said.

Song Cheng whipped out his phone and opened his notes.

Yu Sheng listed them: “Ritual rose oil, a big bottle. Tea powder for communion and alchemy, the four-pound tub. Purified spices and crystal dust, prepare plenty. Oh, and ritual candles. For these six bodies, prepare six bundles.”

He glanced at Foxy and went on: “Also two roast chickens, eight grilled sausages, twenty sheep skewers, twenty chicken skewers, thirty chicken skin skewers, and two bags of steamed buns.”

Foxy lifted a hand: “And grilled mushrooms!”

Yu Sheng nodded: “Right, twenty skewers of mushrooms.”

Song Cheng looked up silently: “No drinks?”

Yu Sheng waved a hand with the air of an expert: “Alcohol is not suitable during the ritual. But you can bring a few cans of cola.”