absurd deduction game.

effective.

Yu Xing tasted the gatekeeper's flavor on his tongue and knew this trick would work, so he simply used a branch to wrap the swaying green vine around its waist and moved it aside. Then he stretched more branches toward the gatekeeper.

The dark branches wriggled and intertwined like living creatures, and the cage they formed gradually contracted, tightly binding the pitch-black mirror image. The dark energy on it thinned at a visible speed.

The guardian's image emitted an even more piercing, yet gradually weakening, spiritual shriek. It struggled frantically, wildly waving its paper cutter, but could not sever the shackles originating from a higher level of existence.

The dark energy that constitutes its body melts and disintegrates rapidly, like ice cubes thrown into strong acid!
Edgar, leaning against the machine, suddenly opened his eyes wide. His turbid pupils reflected this unbelievable scene. He could clearly feel that the close connection between himself and the mirror image was being forcibly severed and devoured by a domineering and cold force. The creation that had embodied his fear for thirty years was being completely erased by a force he could not understand!
“This is…” A hoarse sound came from his dry throat, a mixture of relief and a primal fear of the unknown power.

What Yu Xing displayed was not any power he knew of. It was neither a righteous god known to the public on record, nor a mad and twisted ancient god. He could not describe it and could only stare blankly at Yu Xing with his only intact eye wide open.

Qu Xianqing stood with her sword in hand. Seeing that there was nothing more for her to do, the light on the blood sword dimmed slightly. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the musician leaning against the spreading moss. The corner of her mouth deepened, and the interest in her eyes was almost overflowing.

In just over ten seconds, when the unsettling chewing sound stopped, the guardian's image had completely vanished without a trace, as if it had never existed.

The entwined branches receded into Yu Xing's body like a tide and disappeared.

The underground space fell silent once more, save for the low hum of the ancient machinery and Edgar's hurried, metallic breathing.

Yu Xing turned around, looked at Edgar, and subconsciously licked her lips: "Now, we can have a proper talk, Mr. White."

Edgar White stared at him blankly, then at Qu Xianqing and the actors beside him. After a long while, it seemed as if he had finally confirmed that he was not in yet another carefully woven illusion of despair.

The lingering struggle and pain in his eyes were gradually replaced by a complex emotion, a mixture of shock, exhaustion, and a faint glimmer of hope.

"Who...who are you?" he asked hoarsely, his gaze mainly fixed on Yu Xing. "Investigators...could never possess such power..."

“No, we are investigators from the Ideal State. A lot has changed in the outside world while you were trapped.” Yu Xing walked up to him, knelt down, and looked him straight in the eye. “We came for you, and for the truth of this city. Tell us, Edgar White, what exactly happened here in the past thirty years? What is this ‘City of Horrors’? And why did you become like this?”

His tone was not coercive, but rather a calm statement of facts, which made it easier for Edgar to accept.

Edgar was silent for a moment. He raised his only remaining human right hand and touched his left shoulder, which was fused with machinery, with a trembling motion. The cold touch of the metal sent a chill down his spine.

He took a deep breath, which triggered a series of creaking sounds in his chest. Then he began to narrate, his voice slow and dry, yet carrying a sense of relief and sorrow that had been building up for far too long and was finally being expressed.

“Thirty years ago… I was noticed by ‘them’ because I was investigating Riel’s madness… and the traces of the cult…” His cloudy gaze looked into the void, as if piercing through time and returning to that turning point of fate.

“I’m not the first person brought here. The ‘City of Terror’… those things call it the ‘Trial Grounds’ or the ‘Nursery.’” A bitter smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “They… those indescribable things that exist among the stars need ‘messengers,’ need ‘containers’ that can bear a trace of their will in the real dimension and spread their pollution, and they also need… recorders.”

"The recorder?" Qu Xianqing caught this key word.

“Yes, the recorder.” Edgar looked at the ancient machine that kept spinning, a complex emotion in his eyes. “Like me. The ancient gods are not omniscient, at least… not in the way we understand them. They need to observe, to understand the rules of the material world, to record how fear shapes the soul, how despair distorts reality… to transform all of this into their own ‘knowledge’.”

He raised his right hand, pointing to the surrounding fleshy walls and pulsating blood vessels: "This city itself is a living recording tool. And we, the chosen ones, are their... 'pens'."

"What about Tantric Buddhism? What role do they play?" Yu Xing asked, his voice calm and devoid of emotion.

“Sect cult…” Edgar’s face showed deep disgust and a hint of helplessness. “They are… collaborators, and also… sacrifice selectors.”

He said that the ancient gods and the upper echelons of Tantric Buddhism reached a pact much earlier.

The cult spreads fear and guides corruption in the real world, creating 'soil' suitable for the infiltration of the power of the ancient gods, and sends those who show special potential or touch the core secrets... like him, like Riel, under the gaze of the ancient gods. If the ancient gods take a liking to them, they will bring them to this city of terror as 'seeds' or 'nourishment'.

In exchange, the ancient gods would bestow upon the cult power, twisted knowledge, and... long lifespans, or other things they desired.

This was a dirty but mutually beneficial deal.

Tantric practitioners worship them, believing they are serving gods and pursuing ascension. Little do they know that they are merely expendable objects for high-ranking priests. Tantric religion does not revere any particular deity; what reigns supreme is the ambition of dark individuals.

“You haven’t been completely assimilated.” Yu Xing listened to Edgar’s almost articulate words. “Do you still have complete control over yourself?”

“Yes…and no.” Edgar gasped, stroking the part of himself fused with the machine. “This is my…struggle, and also my…prison. I…resist becoming their recording tool completely. I cannot, like others, willingly offer up my consciousness and memories, twisting myself into a part of this city. My non-cooperation has angered the ‘rules’ here.”

He pointed to the ancient machine: "This 'coordination core' is both the node that maintains the operation of the clock tower and parts of the city's rules, and... the instrument of punishment and transformation. It binds me deeply to this city, forcing me to perceive and record everything, yet it also allows me to retain a sliver of consciousness, watching helplessly as I am gradually devoured and changed... day after day, year after year..."

His voice trembled, and the metallic scraping sound became even more grating: "Thirty years... I've been here... recording for thirty years! Recording the fear of every soul devoured, recording every change in the rules, recording how this city breathes, how it 'digests' despair... I can even... subtly influence it, which proves that I've become a monster, a monster!"

“I can’t leave… My body has become one with this place… My soul is also firmly bound by the rules of this city…”

A faint glimmer of hope flickered in Edgar's eyes: "Back then, I recorded everything, hid the clues in the dense forest, and waited... waited for people like you to come... not to save me... I knew it was almost impossible... but to..."

He abruptly raised his head, a final glimmer of light flashing in his cloudy eyes: "Stop them from causing more disaster in my homeland." "The pact between the cult and the ancient gods is far more than just creating fear! They have a much larger plan… They want to completely tear apart the boundary between reality and illusion, allowing the power of the ancient gods to descend on an even larger scale! The 'City of Terror'… is merely one of the testing grounds and energy sources for this plan! The heart… the 'heart' atop the clock tower, it's not only the core that sustains the city's existence, but also a coordinate, constantly sending signals into the depths of space, attracting more attention, and anchoring the final arrival!"

He coughed violently from the excitement, and the mechanical parts creaked under the strain.

"We must...we must destroy the 'heart'! At the very least...we must disrupt it...otherwise, when it is officially used, Yolikev Town and the surrounding area will be dragged into eternal madness and darkness! Reality...will collapse here!"

“My home, my mother and sister… they will all die…” Edgar shed tears.

Overwhelmed by the sheer volume of information, Yu Xing realized that this was probably the biggest hidden mission in the entire town of Yorikov, or perhaps even a hidden main storyline.

The city of terror is not the end; it is merely a springboard, a prelude to a greater catastrophe. No wonder they saw chaotic rain, a symbol of calamity, creeping across the sky before they even entered.

Edgar's storyline is designed to send a crucial warning to the outside world.

"How do I destroy the 'heart' you mentioned?" Yu Xing asked the most crucial question.

Edgar's agitation subsided slightly, replaced by a profound sense of powerlessness: "'The heart' is formed from the will of the ancient gods and is under the strictest protection of the city's rules. A forced attack could very well trigger a backlash from the rules, or even accelerate its operation... We need... we need to find its 'resonance frequency,' or... use something more powerful, something that can suppress the essence of the ancient gods' power... to corrupt it, to cover it up..."

His gaze involuntarily swept over Yu Xing, the meaning of which was self-evident.

The power Yu Xing displayed when he devoured the gatekeeper gave him a glimmer of hope.

“I know… this is difficult… almost an impossible task…” Edgar’s voice grew weaker and weaker, as if his outpouring had exhausted all his strength. “But… there is no… other choice… either… stop it before the ‘heart’ is fully activated… or… wait for it all to end…”

He leaned against the cold machinery, slowly closed his eyes, leaving only the faint rise and fall of his chest and the hum of the machine.

“My time… is running out… The Coordination Core… is also accelerating its assimilation of me… I can feel… their gaze… becoming clearer and clearer…”

Thirty years of whispers, thirty years of perseverance, thirty years of despair and hope, have finally culminated in this final, heavy entrustment.

Even if he didn't want to die, his eyelids were too weak to droop at this moment.

Inside the underground chamber, only the tireless rotation of the ancient machinery and the breathing of Yu Xing and his two companions remained.

"The path to the top is behind the Coordination Core..." Edgar used his last bit of strength to raise his left hand, which was fused with the machine, and pointed with difficulty to the area behind the ancient machine that seemed no different from the surrounding fleshy walls. "There... there is a... hidden elevator... which requires... energy to activate..."

His voice grew weaker and weaker until his head tilted to the side, as if he had fallen into a semi-comatose sleep. Only his chest, where he was connected to the machine, continued to rise and fall slightly, proving that he was still stubbornly resisting assimilation.

There is no time to hesitate.

Yu Xing walked behind the coordination core and placed his hand on the wall that Edgar had pointed to. He could feel that there was indeed a hollow structure behind this fleshy membrane wall, and it reacted weakly to energy.

The moss had already spread over here, and without his reminder, it began to corrode the flesh membrane. Accompanied by a slight hissing sound, the flesh membrane wall trembled slightly, and ripples appeared on its surface. Then, a vertical passage emitting a faint dim light silently opened up in the wall.

The passageway is narrow, allowing only one person to stand at a time. The walls are made of a smooth, bio-material-like material, and energy can be faintly seen flowing within it.

"Let's go, let's go up." Yu Xing took the lead and stepped into the passage.

Qu Xianqing and the actors followed closely behind.

Once they were all inside, the entrance to the passage quietly closed, and then an invisible force lifted them up rapidly!
They seemed to be traveling through the blood vessels or energy conduits of some kind of organism.

The surrounding tube walls emitted a soft bioluminescence, and one could sense a massive external energy flow surging upwards in sync with them.

The ascent was extremely rapid, creating a slight feeling of weightlessness. Through the translucent tube walls, one could vaguely see the intricate mechanical structure and wriggling biological tissues rushing past inside the clock tower.

This process lasted less than a minute.

The upward sensation abruptly stopped.

The pipe wall in front of them slid open to both sides like a curtain, and an aura that was far more violent, chaotic and oppressive than anywhere below rushed towards them like a real tsunami!

The three stepped out and found themselves standing at the top of the clock tower.

This is a closed, spherical, huge space.

The "walls" of the space were entirely composed of a constantly writhing, dark red fleshy membrane, covered with thick, python-like pulsating blood vessels and dense, spiderweb-like nerve bundles. All of these tissues emitted intense energy fluctuations and converged towards the center of the space.

And suspended at that center point was precisely what Edgar had called—"the heart." (End of Chapter)