absurd deduction game.

Before the church entered the west of town—

10:00 AM, outside the Flowing Light Gallery.

The morning light peeked through the thick clouds, sparingly spilling onto the streets of Yolikev, bringing a hazy, unwelcoming brightness.

Although the rain had stopped, the damp, cold, and foul smell it left behind still stubbornly lingered in the air, mixed with a faint, deep-seated fear that made the morning, which should have been gradually returning to life, seem exceptionally quiet.

The artistic entrance of the Flowing Light Gallery looks less dreamy during the day than when it's brightly lit at night, and more desolate and aloof. The "Temporarily Closed" sign hanging at the entrance sways gently in the breeze.

Yu Xing stood alone in front of the gallery. He was still wearing that sharp black trench coat, his figure upright, out of place with the oppressive environment around him, yet seemingly perfectly blending into the shadows.

His face was expressionless, showing no sign that he had been coerced into coming here by a threatening letter. He raised his hand and knocked on the gallery's tightly closed wooden door.

A moment later, the door was pulled open a crack from the inside.

A familiar face was revealed—the young, freckled maid who had greeted him and Mrs. Furnel at the last art exhibition.

She was dressed in a neat maid's dress, her face bearing just the right amount of respect and a hint of barely concealed worry.

"Good morning, Investigator." The maid recognized Yu Xing, curtsied slightly, and then stepped aside to make way for him. "Master Evan is waiting for you in the studio. Please follow me."

Yu Xing nodded and entered. The maid smiled and led the way, saying:

“Master Evan is looking forward to your visit. He said he hopes you can temporarily serve as his bodyguard—oh, the pay will be very generous, after all, the town has been too dangerous lately, and everyone wants to ensure their own safety if possible.”

Her tone was natural, as if Yu Xing's visit was just a routine one to discuss how to better protect the gallery and its owner in the current chaotic situation.

Yu Xing could tell that she was completely unaware of the undercurrents hidden beneath the calm surface. Therefore, she hadn't even told the maid beside her her true identity—which was normal. Yu Xing was just a little surprised that Evan didn't just implant the mental pollution into the maid's brain, which would have been easier to control.

Perhaps he hoped the unsuspecting maid would serve as a cover for him?
The gallery was even more spacious and quiet than at night. Sunlight streamed through the tall stained-glass windows, casting dappled, cold beams that illuminated the dust particles floating in the air.

The walls that were once covered with paintings now look somewhat empty, as if their souls had been ripped out overnight.

indeed.

The paintings whose mental pollution he absorbed with his tentacles are now useless. Not many were sold at the exhibition, and the rest will probably never be brought out by that somewhat arrogant painter again.

The maid led the way, the sound of her high heels clicking on the floor particularly clear in the quiet space.

She led Yu Xing deeper into the gallery, down the corridor leading to the painter's private area—the same lounge where "Starry Night" was last exhibited.

“Master Evan is inside, please come in.” The maid stopped in front of a familiar door with dark wood grain and said to Yu Xing.

Yu Xing did not hesitate and pushed the door open to enter.

The room's furnishings were not much different from when I last visited; it remained elegant and tranquil.

However, the easel with the velvet curtain covering "Starry Night" was no longer in the center of the room. Instead, Evan Clifford stood with his back to the door, looking out at the gray street scene.

Hearing the door open, Evan slowly turned around.

Today he was wearing a loose black linen shirt and trousers, his hair was a little messy, and his face looked even paler than at night in the dim light coming in from the window, almost bloodless.

Those deep brown eyes no longer held the sensitive artist's demeanor in public, nor the excitement and fervor they had tried so hard to feign during their last time alone. Instead, they held a settling of undisguised, cold melancholy and a hint of arrogant control.

"Master, would you like me to prepare some tea and refreshments for you?" the maid asked gently.

Evan smiled and said, "No need. Close the door and go out. You don't need to come over unless I call you. I need to discuss the hiring matters with this excellent and powerful investigator."

"Yes, I understand." The maid gently closed the door from the outside, separating the inside from the outside.

Almost at the same time as the door clicked shut, the last trace of the formulaic expression on Evan's face vanished completely.

He looked Yu Xing up and down, his gaze like a cold probe, as if trying to pierce through her calm exterior and reach the struggles and fears that might exist within.

He offered no pleasantries or formalities, cutting straight to the point, his voice hoarse and carrying a deliberately crafted sense of pressure:
"It seems Mr. Yu Xing has arrived as promised. So... regarding 'Starry Sky,' after a few days of reflection, have you become more clearly aware of certain 'changes' within yourself?"

He deliberately emphasized the word "change," and a barely perceptible, malicious smile curled at the corner of his mouth.

He stared intently into Yu Xing's eyes, hoping to see panic, anger, resentment, or any other emotion that should be present in a prey that has fallen into a trap.

He firmly believed that with Yu Xing's strength and keen insight, there was absolutely no way he would be unaware of the fact that he had become a "headless man".

This kind of rhetorical question is precisely to appreciate the other person's forced composure or near-collapse when they are at a complete disadvantage.

However, he was disappointed.

Yu Xing met his gaze, her eyes remaining as calm as a bottomless, icy pool, without even a ripple.

He didn't show any of the negative emotions Irwin expected; instead, he tilted his head slightly, as if he were thinking about an academic problem unrelated to himself.

“Change?” Yu Xing repeated the word, her tone as flat as if she were discussing the weather. “If you’re referring to that feeling of ‘emptiness’ above the neck, then yes, it is quite interesting.”

He even raised his hand and gently ran his fingertips across his perfectly intact neck, the movement so natural and casual, as if he were just adjusting his collar.

“It’s a very unique curse. I often feel like my head is about to fall off any second. It’s a really strange feeling.” He smiled and stared at Evan. “So, Mr. Painter, you’ve achieved your goal with your words. Now you’re here to see the results?” The muscles on Evan’s face twitched almost imperceptibly.

Yu Xing's extraordinary calmness and composure completely exceeded his expectations.

There was no fear, no anger, not even the most basic concern about their own situation!
This is not right! No one who is aware that they are "dead" and that their head and body are conceptually separated could be so calm!
unless……

An absurd thought flashed through Evan's mind: Unless the other party simply doesn't care? Or... is there a way to solve it?

No, impossible! The corruption of "Starry Sky" originated from the great ancient god and was a manipulation of the rules. It could not be removed by ordinary means. Even he himself, as a believer of the ancient god, would never dare to look directly at the true form of "Starry Sky," let alone remove the curse.

He forcibly suppressed the sudden unease rising in his heart, attributing Yu Xing's reaction to feigning composure, or perhaps the damned professional calmness of an investigator when faced with an unusual event.

Yes, the man in front of us is a legendary investigator. The other investigators who came to town also kept quiet about him. He might be a madman, or he might have learned to hide his fear in the face of death because he had faced too many dangers.

“I applaud your will, sir.” Evan’s tone turned cold, tinged with a hint of offended anger. “But I hope you understand your current situation… It’s not a joke, it’s a ‘mark’ bestowed upon you by our Lord! It’s the beginning of your liberation from the shackles of the mortal world and your journey to a higher dimension! Of course, the prerequisite is… that you know how to ‘cherish’ this gift.”

He attempted to regain control of the conversation, using words to exert pressure.

Upon hearing this, Yu Xing chuckled softly.

The laughter was soft, but it sounded particularly jarring to Evan's ears.

“A gift? Perhaps.” Yu Xing remained noncommittal, her gaze sweeping across the empty center of the room where “Starry Night” had once stood. “However, rather than discussing the nature of this ‘gift,’ I’m more curious about… Mr. Clifford, you didn’t specifically invite me here just to help me verify this, did you?”

The question was thrown back to Evan.

Evan narrowed his eyes, the feeling of displeasure in his heart growing stronger. This investigator was more difficult to deal with than he had imagined, like a hard and slippery stone.

He took a deep breath and decided to stop wasting time on fear and instead engage in deeper trials and temptations.

“Of course, it’s not just that.” Evan took two steps forward, closing the distance slightly, his voice lowered, carrying a seductive quality as if sharing a secret. “Mr. Yu Xing, you are a smart man, you should know very well how insignificant the power of an individual is in this world that is gradually collapsing. The Church? They are closed-minded, only using those outdated dogmas to bind thought and stifle true ‘evolution’ and ‘truth’!”

His words were filled with contempt for the Church of Orthodox God, almost without any attempt to conceal it.

“And my Lord,” he said, opening his arms wide, his face showing an almost morbid piety, “represents a vast knowledge that transcends mortal understanding, the ultimate power that breaks all rules and constraints! Look at me, Mr. Yu Xing, an ordinary painter, it is precisely because I embraced this power that I was able to glimpse the true mysteries of art and create a miracle like ‘Starry Night’!”

He stared intently at Yu Xing, trying to see a hint of desire for power or curiosity about the unknown in the other's eyes.

Yu Xing listened quietly, her face still expressionless, but her eyes seemed a little deeper than before, as if she was really thinking about Evan's words.

Seeing this, Evan felt a slight stirring in his heart, thinking that perhaps there was a chance.

He continued to raise the stakes, his tone becoming increasingly inflammatory: "The 'abnormality' you are experiencing now is merely the initial stage of adaptation. As long as you are willing to open your heart and truly accept the will of our Lord, you will not only be completely free from the constraints of life, but you will also gain power far beyond your imagination! Knowledge, longevity, the power to control the fate of others... even glimpse the ultimate truth of the universe! Can the Church, no, the Ideal State, give you these?"

He offered one tempting offer after another, trying to break down Yu Xing's defenses.

Yu Xing remained silent for a moment, her fingertips unconsciously rubbing the edge of her trench coat pocket, where something hard seemed to be placed.

His brows furrowed slightly, as if he were engaged in some kind of silent internal struggle.

This silence and subtle changes in expression rekindled hope in Evan's heart. He waited patiently, like a fisherman waiting for his prey to finally bite the hook.

Finally, Yu Xing slowly raised her head and looked at Ai Wen with a complicated expression. Her eyes seemed to contain a hint of weighing options and a hint of helplessness exposed beneath the pretense.

He exhaled softly, his voice slightly lower than before, carrying a hoarse quality as if he had made a firm decision:
"Perhaps... The ideal state can't provide those exaggerated powers. We investigators are just earning a paycheck, even though most of the time we have to risk our lives."

He paused, as if each word was spoken with difficulty, yet with exceptional clarity:

"Moreover, things have come to this point, the curse of the headless... I really need to find a solution, or at least a way to coexist."

He didn't say "join" directly, but the inclination in his words was very clear—he acknowledged his own predicament and showed interest in the "power" and "solutions" described by Evan, which was a cautious and reserved "show of weakness."

An uncontrollable gleam of ecstasy instantly erupted in Evan's eyes.

Success! Under his coercion and enticement, this powerful and difficult investigator finally showed signs of compromise!

He forced back his laughter, striving to maintain the solemnity and mystery of a "guide," and stepped forward, his tone brimming with barely suppressed excitement:
"A wise choice, Mr. Yu Xing! You'll be glad you made that decision today! Welcome... to the real world!"

He opened his arms as if to give Yu Xing a hug, but ultimately restrained himself, only patting Yu Xing's shoulder hard, his hand feeling icy cold.

“Now that you’ve made your choice,” Evan withdrew his hand, his smile becoming eerie and profound, “it’s time to show you what our real ‘circle’ is all about. At the same time, you’ll have to show some sincerity in your association with the cult.”

Yu Xing: "Oh? You mean now? What do I need to give in return?"

“Don’t rush, you’ll find out soon enough. Now, come on.” Evan turned around, glancing at the bleak street scene outside the window, and walked nonchalantly toward an easel completely covered by a thick white canvas on the inside of the room.

That easel was unremarkable before; it was such a common sight in art studios. But now, under Evan's footsteps, it seemed to exude an invisible, heart-stirring attraction.

Evan stopped in front of the wall covered by a white sheet: "Let me show you the gifts of my Lord..."

He reached out, his fingertips trembling with an almost reverent intensity, and grasped a corner of the canvas. (End of Chapter)