Chapter 207

Chapter 207: Preparing to Speak with the Dead

Deep in the long-sealed, abandoned underground passage, the wall had shown the silhouette of the black forest—something that should have existed only in a nightmare. The moment it happened, Yu Sheng knew his wobbling intuition hadn’t been his imagination.

A short while later, he brought Irene and Foxy to the tunnel Little Red Riding Hood mentioned.

It lay slightly west of the orphanage’s center, directly beneath the outdoor activity area. The section had been abandoned for many years, and the air carried a strong, damp mold smell.

The ceiling lights were dim, and pipes ran along the ceiling, blocking the bulbs and casting uneven shadows. The walls were filthy and stained with peeling paint. In places, messy graffiti scrawled across the concrete—clearly the work of kids who sometimes snuck down here to “explore.”

By the time Yu Sheng arrived on foot, the suspicious tree shadows were already gone.

“The photo was taken here.” Little Red Riding Hood pointed to the left wall. “At the time, the tunnel lights suddenly dimmed. It felt like dusk in the black forest. My instincts said something was wrong, so I reflexively opened the camera—and it happened to catch the tree shadows on the wall. The whole thing lasted only a few seconds, then the shadows disappeared.”

Yu Sheng frowned and inspected the wall carefully. Then he looked up at the lights wedged between drainage pipes and the empty spiderwebs in the corner.

“What’s above us?” he asked casually.

“A corner of the outdoor activity area.” Little Red Riding Hood nodded. “According to the old planning maps, before the renovation, this should’ve been inside the courtyard. We still haven’t found any clear trace, but since we observed an anomaly, this should be the place where Squirrel saw that glowing object fall back then.”

Yu Sheng grunted and looked down at his feet.

“…You’re not thinking about digging down, are you?” Irene demanded, instantly catching his drift. “I’m telling you, this isn’t a joke. On TV, you watch someone dig in a basement and dig up an evil spirit. In real life, you dig and the building collapses first. The councilor committee’s housing and construction safety department will arrive faster than any evil spirit.”

“I know, I know.” Yu Sheng waved her off. “I do have basic common sense.”

He paused, then added thoughtfully, “And even if we ignore the foundation issue, digging would probably be pointless. According to Squirrel, the thing that fell ‘merged’ into the ground on the spot. So Anka Aila likely has no entity at all—or it fell into another dimension. Either way, digging won’t turn anything up.”

“What do you think I caught on camera?” Little Red Riding Hood frowned. “It only lasted a few seconds, but for some reason, I felt very… uneasy.”

Yu Sheng didn’t answer right away. He thought for a long time, then finally spoke, almost to himself.

“Some kind of leak?”

“Doesn’t sound like good news,” Irene muttered.

Little Red Riding Hood’s face stayed grim. After a moment, she looked down at the tabby cat, who was busy grooming himself. “King, keep an eye on the underground tunnels these days. If possible, it’d be best to station an adventurer squad here—not the holy trinity party. I want the one with three assassins.”

The tabby sighed in a low, magnetic voice. “Ah… life is too cruel to a little kitty like me…”

“I’ll buy you the cat stick treat.”

“Deal.”

Yu Sheng stared, gaining yet another layer of understanding about how the fairy tale members got along. He was about to ask whether this “King Kitty” ever went on missions, and how it handled communication and payment with outsiders, when the phone in his pocket started ringing.

He pulled it out and saw Song Cheng’s name.

“I’ll take this,” Yu Sheng said, waving to the others as he stepped aside. “Hello—yeah, I’m Yu Sheng… what?!”

Several pairs of ears snapped upright at once. Foxy’s stood up the highest.

A moment later, Yu Sheng hung up. He turned back to the people craning their necks to eavesdrop, his expression strange.

“I have to go to the special operations bureau. Irene, Foxy—you two come with me.”

Little Red Riding Hood stepped forward. “What happened?”

“They found the accomplices of those two angel cultists from before,” Yu Sheng said grimly. “But when they found them… they were already all dead.”

A short while later, Yu Sheng brought Irene and Foxy into Song Cheng’s office.

Song Cheng was already used to Yu Sheng’s habit of “hanging up and instantly respawning at your doorstep.” He glanced up at the trio being led in by staff, calmly put away the documents on his desk, and stood.

“Come with me. I’ll take you straight to see the angel cultists’ bodies. I’ll explain the details on the way.”

Yu Sheng followed behind Song Cheng with his two sidekicks, once again weaving through the time-maze-like corridors of the bureau headquarters. In his head, he automatically jotted down route markers as Song Cheng spoke.

“After you interrogated that angel cultist last time, we arranged for professionals to conduct a second, surprise interrogation. This time we used stronger mental intrusion and hypnosis. We finally got him to talk.

“In his subconscious, we dug up clues and finally found the hideout of other angel cultists lurking in the city—only the Anka Aila branch, of course. They were hiding near an old factory district, right under the councilor committee’s nose.

“The arrest operation started this morning. The intelligence was accurate. The location was accurate. Everything went according to plan… except the cultists were already dead.”

Song Cheng stopped in front of a white door and gestured for Yu Sheng to enter with him.

Inside was a morgue. Aside from the many surveillance devices on the ceiling and the strange symbols embedded into the walls, it looked no different from an ordinary morgue.

Of course, the armed special operations bureau agents posted inside and outside were less ordinary. Live weapons. Quiet eyes. No wasted movements.

Yu Sheng walked in, then glanced near the entrance and spotted a paper listing morgue rules: avoid physical conflict with the deceased, and forbidding the deceased from leaving the room at will.

Perfectly normal, as far as the bureau was concerned.

By now, Yu Sheng wasn’t surprised by signs like that. After all, if you spent more than thirty minutes in a bathroom stall here, a fully armed security team would come fish you out.

The angel cultists brought back by the arrest team now lay on several tables in the center of the room. Six bodies total, arranged neatly in a row.

“There are no wounds anywhere,” Song Cheng continued. “Initial checks show no internal injuries or signs of poisoning. They were found collapsed in the living room in a rough circle, and the floor was covered in a spirit-summoning pattern meant to contact Anka Aila. It was clearly a sacrifice ritual, but the offering was themselves. With no injuries inside or out, they directly offered their lives to their lord.”

Yu Sheng stared at the pale bodies. “…Self-sacrifice, huh. That really fits the cultist vibe.”

Song Cheng shook his head. “No. It’s actually the opposite. Among the angel cultists we’ve encountered, self-sacrifice is rare. Most of the time, they sacrifice other people, not themselves.”

Yu Sheng blinked. “Really?”

“Because they truly have a lord,” Song Cheng said, voice low, “and that lord directly affects their ability to think rationally. Angel cultists usually have a clear goal. Even if that goal is driven by madness, it’s still something they believe must be done. So most of them won’t give up their lives easily, unless…”

“Unless what?”

“Unless they believe their lord needs them to die right now.”

Yu Sheng’s brow tightened. He looked at the six bodies and drew a quiet breath.

“I need to talk to them,” he said softly.

Song Cheng, of course, knew about Yu Sheng’s “conversation with the dead.” He immediately waved at the guards near the entrance, signaling unrelated personnel to clear out. Then he turned back to Yu Sheng, serious.

“What ritual materials do you need? The bureau can give you the best conditions. As long as you can make these cultists speak after death—ask for anything.”

Yu Sheng almost waved it off out of habit. He wanted to say his ability ran on instinct and needed no props.

But then he caught Irene in the corner of his eye, and his thoughts shifted.

“Fine,” he said. “Write this down.”

Song Cheng immediately pulled out his phone and opened a notes app.

“Rose oil for the ritual—extra-large bottle. Tea powder for mediumship and alchemy, the kind in a four-jin tub. Purified spices and crystal dust, plenty of those. Oh, and ritual candles—six bundles for six bodies…”

Yu Sheng paused, then glanced at Foxy. “Also two roast chickens, eight grilled sausages, twenty lamb skewers, twenty chicken skewers, thirty chicken skin skewers, and two bags of steamed buns.”

Foxy raised a hand. “And—and grilled mushrooms!”

Yu Sheng nodded gravely. “Right. And twenty grilled mushroom skewers.”

Song Cheng looked up, face unreadable. “…No drinks?”

“No alcohol during the ritual,” Yu Sheng said, adopting the poise of an otherworldly expert. “But you can bring a few cans of cola.”