absurd deduction game.

As the esoteric master finished speaking, a brief, expectant silence fell over the basement.

The pale green candlelight flickered and swayed, illuminating the surrounding black figures as if they were dancing wildly.

After a brief silence, a slender, cloaked figure standing in the front row spoke first. His voice, also distorted, sounded sharp and urgent: "I need 'night raven's eyes,' at least three pairs, captured before the night of the new moon, and their activity must be above 80%."

Immediately, a slightly hunched figure responded from behind, his voice old and hoarse: "I have two pairs that meet your requirements. How about exchanging them for 'Sleeping Moss' of equal weight, or... accurate information about the church patrol's next inspection of the East District."

The thin, cloaked figure seemed to hesitate for a moment: “I don’t have any news, but I have half a pound of dried ‘Sleeping Moss’ that I can trade for.”

"Okay," the old voice replied crisply.

The two then moved away from the edge of the crowd to a corner, where they completed the transaction in hushed tones, with the faint sound of small containers being exchanged rubbing together.

This seemed to have turned on a switch, and others began to speak up one after another.

"Seeking to purchase 'Venom Sacs of the Rotting Beast,' requiring that the venom has not yet leaked..."

"Provide 'Spirit Speaker' skull powder in exchange for 'Dream Fragments' or knowledge of related rituals..."

A woman with a hoarse voice chuckled softly, "Does anyone know anything about the female investigator who killed a bunch of monsters in the slums a few nights ago? She killed my little darling, so I have to get some interest from her..."

Yu Xing's gaze, hidden beneath his cloak, turned towards her.

In my perception, this person was shriveled, dark and thin, the kind of woman who would go unnoticed on the street. She was even wearing patched laundry worker clothes, as if she was still working hard to earn cheap copper coins by washing clothes before coming to the gathering.

But her face held a sinister and cruel expression that she would never normally show. In her deep-set eyes, a pair of cloudy brown pupils bulged slightly and rolled around in their sockets.

Upon hearing that it was related to the investigator, the other members of the cult also turned their attention to it. Someone asked, "I know that woman. She's very powerful and has always followed the church. You're saying she killed the monster you were raising? If you ask me, unless it's something important, you shouldn't cause her trouble at this critical juncture."

The female cultist let out a cold snort, as if she had swallowed blood, and said, "That is my son."

"Oh?"

Upon hearing this, all esoteric practitioners, regardless of their mindset, displayed a somewhat detached, amused attitude.

Even Evan looked at her.

The female cultist, who had become the center of attention, smiled and didn't mind sharing her story: "My son is a cunning little mouse. You know, people in the slums are always hungry, and this little mouse didn't have enough to eat either, but I still raised him until he was 16."

"At that time, I hadn't joined Tantric Buddhism yet. My husband died in an accident at the factory, and I only received a meager compensation. I raised the little mouse alone, working very hard every day and getting sick from the exhaustion... and guess what happened?"

The cultist next to him chuckled and guessed, "He's an ingrate, living off you while beating you up?"

Another said, "He stole your food to fill his own stomach, almost making you starve to death?"

Evan chuckled sinisterly and interjected, "You guys are really good at guessing people's good intentions. Well then, let me try to guess too."

He turned to the female cultist: "Did your son sell you out?"

“Hahaha…” The female cultist burst into laughter as if she had been struck by a witty remark. She raised her hand and clapped her hands. “You’re right. One night I stayed up all night to wash my employer’s clothes. I was so exhausted that I slept like I was in a coma.”

"When I woke up again, I found myself being carried out of my home. It was a strange place. My son was hiding behind a group of animals, too scared to face me, but I saw him at a glance..."

"He cried and apologized to me, saying that I was so tired every day but received so little, and that I should put aside my dignity and do some easier work so that we could both have enough to eat."

When talking about this experience, the female tantric practitioner's emotions no longer fluctuated. She even nonchalantly pulled open her sleeve to show everyone the healed but still ugly scars on her skin.

“That night was unforgettable. Those men only gave my son three pieces of white bread, and they could vent their anger on me without any restraint, beating me and slashing me with a knife. My son stood to the side, crying at first, but he couldn’t help but eat the bread while crying, leaving me with not a single piece.”

"At that time, I almost thought these people were notorious cultists... but they weren't."

The female cultist sneered, "I thought I had to see what real cultists were like, so I went to great lengths to join this place. The high priest gave me a potion that cured my chronic illness, but I asked him to leave these superficial scars on me so that I would never forget what happened that night."

"The day he learned the fusion ritual, I turned him into a real, adorable mouse. I still keep him, but he will no longer feel hungry."

"This kind of kindness is rare around here," someone said sarcastically. "If it were me, he wouldn't have lived to see dawn."

“Oh, that won’t do. I love my son deeply. How could I kill him?” The female cultist spoke of love, but her eyes were filled with a twisted, cold, and playful look. “But a week ago, he bit through the cage and escaped. He had my mark on him, so I thought it would be easy for me to catch up with him. But when I got to him, all I saw was his corpse.”

“It was that female investigator who did it. How could she do such a thing? My precious little mouse was nothing more than a monster that she could easily kill with a single stroke. That was my son, my son.”

The distorted voice lingered in the small basement. At this point, no one advised the woman not to provoke the investigators. Instead, a few secret followers who had been paying attention to the church's movements stepped forward and provided some information about Qu Xianqing.

Yu Xing didn't stop him. Firstly, the total number of cultists here was not enough to defeat Qu Xianqing. Secondly, judging from the pacing of the plot, it was already the eighth day, and tomorrow would be the last day and the final ceremony. These cultists on the fringes would have no chance to cause trouble.

Despite this minor incident, the transaction continued.

After the stages of seeking ritual materials and information, it's time to sell. The esoteric practitioners bring out what they want to sell and look for buyers.

Some brought out pieces of flesh wrapped in black cloth, wriggling slightly; others displayed liquid in glass bottles, shimmering with an ominous purple light; some opened their palms, revealing several bone fragments engraved with twisted symbols and radiating a chilling aura; still others brought several ancient scrolls, dark in color and with broken edges, on which blasphemous knowledge was recorded in a long-lost script.

These items, without exception, exuded a strong aura of filth and misfortune; some even faintly emitted whispers or wails, clearly indicating they were truly forbidden objects. The trade became more direct and intense.

The worshippers gathered around the person displaying the items, whispering their prices or negotiating with items they considered to be of equal value.

Strange smells filled the air, and energy fluctuations became disordered.

"For sale: a piece of 'Ancient Grave Soil,' from a tomb soaked in chaotic rain, containing abundant corrupting power..."

The voices of demand and supply rise and fall, mostly containing bizarre and dangerous content, involving various forbidden materials, evil knowledge, and secret intelligence.

They used codes and aliases that were difficult for outsiders to understand, yet the transactions were conducted with extraordinary efficiency.

Some people quickly reach an agreement and complete the exchange quietly; others get into a brief stalemate because the conditions don't match or the price can't be agreed upon, but they will soon turn to other targets.

Yu Xing stood silently beside Ai Wen, like a true bystander, but his powerful perception captured every word of conversation and every subtle change in energy fluctuations.

He noticed that the hunched old man who had previously exchanged for "Sleeping Moss" was now taking out a small pinch of grayish-white powder and whispering as he tried to sell it: "'Dead Man's Ashes,' taken from the space between the eyebrows of a corpse that was devoured by a nightmare less than an hour ago, is an excellent material for constructing a 'Fear Barrier'..."

Several people immediately showed interest and gathered around.

Meanwhile, another short, stout cloaked man, who had previously failed to purchase the "Corrosive Beast Poison Sac," took out a strangely shaped, jet-black dagger. Thick black liquid dripped continuously from the blade, making a "sizzling" corrosive sound as it hit the ground.

"'Shadow Fang' comes with a slowing and soul-tearing effect. In exchange, buy something that can quickly replenish your health or a powerful curse resistance item."

The dagger caused quite a stir, with several people simultaneously bidding against it, including the rally's host.

The assembly leader seemed determined to acquire the dagger, directly quoting a price that silenced the surrounding crowd—three crystals brimming with dark energy, and detailed information about the daily routines of a certain deacon of the church.

The short, stout cloaked man was clearly tempted, and after a brief hesitation, he completed the deal with the assembly leader.

The host took the dagger, played with it for a while with it, and then carefully put it away.

The intelligence and needs exchange session lasted about twenty minutes, and most people gained something or obtained clues.

The atmosphere in the basement seemed to liven up a bit as a result, and that repressive sense of madness became even more pronounced.

During this period, Evan did not participate in any transactions. He simply observed from the sidelines, occasionally showing a hint of disdain for a certain item or nodding slightly at the outcome of a transaction, as if waiting for something.

Finally, as most of the transactions were nearing completion and some people began to get restless and want to leave, Evan gently nudged Yu Xing's arm, signaling him to follow.

Then, Evan took a step forward and walked to a position relatively in the center of the field.

His actions immediately drew the attention of everyone else.

As a follower of the Old Gods, Evan Clifford clearly held a high position in this circle. Although he was also masked, his high-profile behavior immediately made others realize what was going on.

Evan didn't take out any physical object; he simply stood there, his gaze sweeping across the cultists from beneath his hood, including the assembly leader, before speaking in his distinctive, gloomy, and hoarse voice:

"I'll offer you a chance."

His voice wasn't loud, but it reached everyone's ears clearly.

“A chance…to witness a ‘miracle’ up close and feel the true power of our Lord.” He paused, feeling the gazes that instantly converged on him, a mixture of greed, longing, and awe, before continuing, “Tomorrow night, when the stars reach a specific trajectory, the final ritual will begin. At that time, I can bring one person into the outer area of ​​the ritual to witness firsthand the collapse of the old order and the beginning of a new era.”

Upon hearing this, the breathing in the basement became noticeably heavier!

Even the rally's host subconsciously leaned forward.

Observe the final ceremony!
This was an irresistible temptation for these cultists who were fanatically pursuing the power of the ancient gods and eager to witness the "truth," even though they were just peripheral members who were no longer qualified.

"What is the price?" a dry voice asked. It was the old man who had previously sold the ashes of the dead.

Evan chuckled softly: "The price is... a 'pure soul crystal,' or an item of equivalent value containing powerful life energy. It must be 'pure,' free from any resentment or curse contamination."

The phrase "a crystallization of a pure soul" sent a chill down the spines of everyone present.

This thing is extremely rare. It requires stripping the soul of a mentally sound and resilient living being and refining it in the blink of an eye before the being experiences extreme pain and despair in order to ensure "purity." The difficulty and cruelty involved are extremely high.

A hush fell over the scene; clearly, this was a price that most people couldn't afford.

Yu Xing stood behind Ai Wen, studying everyone's expressions, and then pursed her lips.

Evan's actions served two purposes: first, to flaunt his status and authority within the cult to the investigator; and second, to sift through evil resources that suited the Old Gods' tastes. For these cult members who pursue the mysticism as their life's work, the so-called "observation" was probably more than just watching. He wouldn't be surprised if Evan offered his targets as sacrifices directly to the Old Gods.

Just as everyone fell silent, a cloaked figure who had previously been largely invisible and stood at the very edge slowly raised his hand.

The man's cloak looked dirtier than the others', probably because it hadn't been cleaned properly.

"I...I have it." The man's voice trembled, carrying a desperate madness. "I have a crystal...I...I obtained it by deceiving a priest of the Harvest Mother Goddess. He helped me relentlessly when I was dying. He was healthy, kind, and his soul was 'clean'..." (End of Chapter)