absurd deduction game.

The following day, the eighth day of the dungeon.

At two o'clock in the afternoon, the sky was still dim.

The leaden clouds hung low, filtering the sunlight into a depressing, pale white that cast a weak glow on the empty square in front of the Harvest Church.

The air was filled with the damp, cold smell of rainwater pollution, a mixture of rust and decay, silently eroding every inch of space.

The atmosphere in the square in front of the church was even more solemn than in the morning. Nearly forty church members had gathered and lined up, most of them with solemn expressions, gripping their weapons tightly, their armor and robes gleaming coldly in the dim light.

These people are combat personnel specially trained by the Church of the Mother Goddess. Unlike deacons, they do not receive as strong blessings from the Mother Goddess, so they are not qualified to carry out missions independently like deacons. They are generally responsible for patrolling the town and also serve as security personnel in large-scale events and missions.

This was the first time they had participated in such a dangerous mission since becoming "Guardians," requiring them to leave the town as a group.

While feeling tense, it's inevitable to experience some excitement and trepidation.

Such a big move could not be kept secret from the townspeople nearby. Some townspeople, out of curiosity and a desire to offer their blessings, gathered around and stood on both sides of the road.

Deacon Herbert stood at the front of the line, the scar on his face standing out prominently. His gaze swept across the entire area like that of a hawk, conducting a final count and confirmation.

The fake archbishop, still wearing his red robe that symbolized authority and holding a staff inlaid with a huge piece of amber, stood atop the high steps at the church entrance.

He frowned slightly, his gaze sweeping through the crowd as if searching for something.

He quickly noticed something was wrong.

Yu Xing, the highly capable investigator who played a crucial role in last night's bookstore operation, was not among the team members.

Qu Xianqing, who was always by his side, stood at the front of the group, still with a cold and aloof demeanor, while Lingren, another investigator with a unique temperament, stood alone a little further away, looking languid, as if the grim scene before him had nothing to do with him.

The fake archbishop cleared his throat, his voice carrying just the right amount of authority and concern, clearly echoing throughout the square: "Madam Investigator, why is Mr. Yu Xing nowhere to be seen? Has he encountered some trouble?"

All eyes immediately focused on Qu Xianqing.

Qu Xianqing raised her eyes, her gaze calmly meeting that of the fake archbishop. Her voice was clear and cold, like ice beads falling onto a plate, without the slightest emotional fluctuation: "He had something come up and was held up by some 'personal grudges.' He asked me to tell you that he would come to meet us in the west of the town as soon as he finished dealing with it."

Her words were concise and offered no details, but the phrase "personal grudge" in this context was enough to evoke a lot of speculation—perhaps a conflict with other investigators, perhaps the discovery of some clue that had to be dealt with immediately, or perhaps some trouble that she didn't want to talk about.
A fleeting, elusive glint flashed in the fake archbishop's eyes, a look that seemed to be a mixture of regret and knowing "as expected."

He pondered for a moment, then his face showed an expression of understanding and tolerance: "I see. I hope Mr. Yu Xing can resolve his troubles smoothly. In that case, we will not delay any longer; the Mother Goddess's will cannot be delayed."

His gaze swept across the entire group, his voice rising abruptly, brimming with inflammatory rhetoric: "Gentlemen! Darkness is spreading, and the fanatics of the cult are brewing an even greater conspiracy in the shadows to the west! Every moment we delay, the town becomes more dangerous! For the glory of the Mother Goddess, for the peace of Yorikef, let us set out!"

"Let's go!" Deacon Herbert then issued a powerful command, waving his arm forward.

The townspeople offered their blessings, and regardless of whether they truly believed in the Mother of Harvest, in the face of one disaster after another, they could only place their hopes on the only true deity in Yolikef.

The column began to turn in an orderly fashion, preparing to head west of the town.

The heavy footsteps, the scraping of armor, and the slight clinking of weapons and accessories intertwined, forming a suppressed yet resolute torrent.

The performer seemed to have curbed his laziness and prepared to catch up with the group.

He even tilted his head slightly, his gaze seemingly unintentionally sweeping over the deep shadow cast by the church building, a faint, almost imperceptible smile curving his lips. However, his thoughts were quickly interrupted.

Beside the road, a little girl of about four or five years old, dressed quite elegantly, broke free from her mother's hand and ran up to him with a basket in her hand.

"Annie!" her mother called immediately, "Don't cause trouble for the uncles at church!"

Anne held up her basket: "I just wanted to give the great hero the cookies that my mom and I made together!"

She seemed somewhat afraid of the burly uncles who were wearing armor and whose faces were barely visible, so she set her sights on the only brother who looked harmless and whose height even seemed approachable.

Because she was so young and ran so fast with her short legs, the guards who had already formed a line were not entirely unwarranted, but their first reaction was that there was no need to leave the line without permission. Even if there were any problems, the powerful investigator would surely be able to handle them.

Anne's mother was a little embarrassed. She half-squatted down and opened her arms to Anne: "Come back quickly, the uncles are about to set off. Let's go back and pray for them!"

Annie hesitated for two seconds, then raised her timid little face and handed the basket to the performer: "Big brother, you're handsome. Here are some cookies for you."

Good-natured laughter erupted around them.

The performer lowered his head and looked at her quietly.

After a moment, he gave her a friendly smile, half-squatted down to take the cookie basket, and patted Annie's head: "Thank you, big brother will eat all the cookies. It's still dangerous in town, so go home with your mother as soon as possible."

"Yes!" Annie nodded, her eyes shining. "I understand!"

The procession continued forward, the performer's smile still lingering, just as he was about to stand up.

Just when everyone's attention had shifted from Annie, and they were completely relaxed—

An unexpected change occurred without warning!

Anne smiled sweetly, and with her free hands she suddenly hugged the actor who had not yet gotten up. In the instant the actor's eyes changed, a small hand pierced into the actor's chest from the front!

Sharp claws pierced through clothing and skin without hindrance, grasping the warm, beating heart.

Time seemed to freeze and magnify at this moment.

Countless eyes watched in horror as Anne's small hand, like a red-hot iron piercing through butter, decisively and precisely pierced the actor's left chest from back to front. Her palm, dripping with blood and torn fabric, ruthlessly pierced through the back of his chest, right where his heart was!

Dark red blood, like a fountain that had been suppressed for a long time, gushed out from the two huge wounds in an instant! The actor's body was thrown forward by the huge impact.

He abruptly lowered his head, looking at the monstrous hand that had suddenly appeared on his chest, his face filled with pain and an unbelievable sense of absurdity.

He opened his mouth as if to make a sound, but only large gushes of thick, foamy blood gushed out.

Then, to everyone's horrified dismay, the hand that had pierced through his body suddenly clenched and then yanked backward violently!
"Ugh—!" A short, muffled groan finally escaped from the actor's throat.

With a sickeningly wet sound as muscles and blood vessels were forcibly torn apart, a dark red organ, still twitching slightly, stained with dripping hot blood, and with veins even faintly visible, was forcibly pulled out of the actor's chest cavity by that hand!

heart!

That was too fast! Faster than anyone could react!
"Big brother, good luck!" Annie held the actor's heart and cheered him on as he set off.

Herbert the Deacon's fierce roar had barely left his throat when he shouted, "Corpse Heart—!"

The guards instinctively tried to raise their weapons and adjust their formation, but the actor's usual nonchalance froze, turning into extreme astonishment and bewilderment. He instinctively clutched his chest, only to find his hand covered in warm blood.

Screams erupted from the townspeople, and the basket of cookies fell to the ground with a thud.

Finally, a guard restrained Annie, who cried, "Big brother threw away my cookies! The cookies I made!"

Annie's mother straightened up amidst the chaotic crowd, her expression calm, and retreated away in the confusion. By the time some townspeople shouted to arrest her, she had already blended into the shadows of the alley with a speed that was definitely not that of an ordinary person. When a deacon chased after her, he only saw the skin of "Annie's mother".

hateful!

This woman is not a corpse-heart, but a cultist who was prepared in advance!

The deacon's eyes were bloodshot. He knew that this was the Secret Church's attempt to stop them from going to the west of the town, but he could only return to the archbishop and obey his orders. After all, the priority now was to stop the Secret Church's ritual in the west of the town. If he spared manpower to search for the assassin, it might play right into the Secret Church's hands!

In the square, the last glimmer of light in the eyes of the actor who had lost his heart was quickly extinguished like a candle flickering in the wind.

His body went limp, all his strength drained away in an instant, and he fell straight down face down into a pool of blood, without making a sound.

boom!
That muffled thud, like a giant hammer, struck the soul of every witness.

Dead silence.

Absolute silence enveloped the entire square.

The sounds of breathing and heartbeat seemed to have disappeared.

Everyone stood frozen in place, their faces filled with extreme shock, horror, and disbelief.

Some of the young priests even felt their legs go weak, anger and fear surging into their hearts at the same time. In broad daylight, at the entrance of the sacred church, in front of the troops about to set off for war, how dare the Tantric sects take such a direct action! It was too outrageous!
"No—!" Deacon Herbert roared furiously. His eyes instantly turned bloodshot, and his body erupted with an unprecedentedly dazzling golden light, like a raging lion. He drew his sword and thrust it straight at "Annie." Although her appearance was pitiful, everyone knew that this was no longer the little girl she used to be, but a complete monster!

"Kill it!!"

"Avenge the actor!!"

Anne held out for less than three seconds before being cleaved in two at the waist by Deacon Herbert's sword, which was imbued with violent holy light. Her remains quickly turned into charred remains and ashes in the golden flames.

However, the monster's death brought no solace whatsoever.

Several priests rushed to the actor, trembling, and carefully turned him over. When they saw his empty eyes, frozen with his last shock, and the shocking, gaping hole in his chest, everyone gasped and their hearts sank to the bottom.

Blood gushed out from beneath him like a stream, quickly spreading into a large dark red area on the stone floor.

His vital signs had completely disappeared, and his skin had turned a deathly grayish-white.

The fake archbishop rushed down the steps, his face filled with undisguised rage and grief. He bent down to look at the horrific wound, then closed his eyes, shaking his head heavily and painfully: "Mother Goddess... how outrageous! How cruel! To inflict such torture before the temple! Quickly, carry the actor's body... into the church and temporarily place it with the most solemn rites. We must not let him lie exposed here!"

His voice trembled slightly, filled with indignation and sorrow.

Despite their discomfort, the guards carefully lifted the actor's limp, still warm but lifeless body and walked heavily into the church.

On the ground, only the pool of dark red blood that had quickly cooled and congealed, and the heart that lay alone in the dust and bloodstains, now completely silent, were left, like a cruel brand etched into everyone's sight.

The entire square was filled with an almost frozen sense of grief and indignation, and a chilling atmosphere.

Qu Xianqing stood still, without moving an inch from beginning to end.

At the moment the "corpse heart" burst forth, she was momentarily surprised, but quickly recovered and simply stared at the bloody scene unfolding, watching the actor "meet murder," watching his heart be ripped out, and watching him be carried away as a "corpse."

Her face remained expressionless, only a hint of mockery in her eyes when she looked away. She knew the actor wouldn't go with the fake archbishop, but she hadn't expected him to make such an extravagant exit.

He's a true performer, and that has never changed.

The fake archbishop took a deep breath, seemingly forcibly suppressing his "grief." He stepped back onto the high platform, his gaze sweeping over the terrified and demoralized troops below. His voice was heavy and hoarse: "Gentlemen... you have all seen this! This is the enemy we face! Mad, cruel, and inhuman! They fear our actions and can only resort to such despicable means to try and intimidate us."

“But!” he suddenly changed his tone, his voice becoming impassioned, “We will never do as they wish! The sacrifice of the investigator will only strengthen our resolve to eradicate evil. Take up your weapons, hold fast to your faith, for the dead, for the living, for Yolikf! Set off, destination: West Forest!”

Under his encouragement, the team's grief and indignation began to be redirected. Deacon Herbert suppressed his anger, reorganized the team, and issued the order to set off again.

This time, the team set off in silence, with an almost tragic stillness, heading west of the town. The task of tracking down the assassin and handling other follow-up and protection work was left to the church staff who stayed behind.

Qu Xianqing glanced one last time at the glaring bloodstain on the ground, then gave a barely perceptible smile before turning and catching up with the last member of the group. (End of Chapter)