absurd deduction game.

For the ordinary residents of Yolikev, it was a rather special morning.

The church-led patrol and extermination operation against monsters such as frogmen and corpse hearts came to an end yesterday. The number of guards on the streets has been greatly reduced, with only a few people left to patrol symbolically, their faces showing the fatigue after days of tension.

The townspeople tentatively opened their windows and doors, bracing themselves for another day of despair.

However, before people could worry about the deserted streets and the still somber atmosphere for long, change came without warning.

A warm, mellow aroma of wheat filled the air, bringing a sense of peace and contentment. It quickly permeated every street, every house, and even seeped into the cracks of tightly closed doors and windows.

Golden, plump ears of wheat, as if gently scattered by an invisible hand, appeared out of thin air before every resident, accompanied by glimmers of light.

People instinctively reached out to catch it.

The instant the wheat fell into his palm, lines of text composed of pure golden light appeared. The invisible words carried a strange spiritual resonance, and even the poorest, uneducated person could instantly understand their meaning:
"The Mother Goddess of Harvest is with all believers and residents of Yorickf."

"In light of the many strange occurrences in the town recently, and in order to dispel the gloom and ensure lasting peace, the Archbishop of Harvest Church hereby issues this notice to the entire town:"

"All residents, regardless of faith or status, must gather in the square in front of the main hall of the Harvest Church before noon today. At that time, the church will hold a blessing and purification ceremony for each attendee and distribute free holy wheat bread and clean water, blessed by the Mother Goddess, to ward off misfortune."

"This is a matter of great importance concerning the safety of the entire town, and no one may refuse to be absent for any reason. If anyone is unable to go by themselves due to mobility issues or serious illness, their relatives or neighbors must inform the guards on the street. Church deacons will then visit each person individually to assist in the transfer, ensuring that no one is left behind."

"In this time of crisis and suffering, everyone has a duty to help their neighbors. Anyone found to have failed to help or abandoned their neighbors in times of danger will be severely punished."

"May the light of the Mother Goddess guide our path, cleanse us from all defilement, and lead us back to peace."

—Harvest Church, Edict of the Cardinal

The golden writing lingered in the air for about half a minute, ensuring everyone had seen and memorized it, before slowly dissipating like melting sunlight.

But the warm aroma of wheat and the heavy ears of wheat in their hands were a clear reminder that what had just happened was not an illusion.

People looked at each other, their faces a mixture of shock, confusion, and unease.

"Is this...is this a miracle?" someone whispered in disbelief, stroking the ears of wheat in their hands.

They certainly knew the power of the church, but they had never seen such a wide-ranging application of mysticism!

But after the initial shock, many people began to have doubts.

"The purification ritual... Why didn't you do it when the monsters were at their worst a couple of days ago? Why wait until the patrols are almost over before you do it?" A middle-aged man who worked as a foreman in the factory frowned and whispered to his wife beside him, "And you have to be there... When have you ever seen the church make such a strong demand on anyone? The church has never forced those who didn't believe in the Mother Goddess, but in the Mechanical Father God or the Silk Goddess."

The wife replied worriedly, "It's giving me the creeps. Is something terrible about to happen?"

Similar speculations spread quietly throughout the town.

Is it for protection?

Does this mean the danger in the town has become more serious?
However, regardless of their suspicions, the vast majority of people dared not and had no reason to openly disobey this decree, especially under the warning of severe punishment.

Soon, groups of two or three people began to appear on the street. Most of them had solemn expressions and were talking in hushed tones as they walked toward the Harvest Church in the center of town.

Wealthier families used horse-drawn carriages, while ordinary families walked, and the procession flowed like a stream from all directions toward the same center.

On the outskirts of the town, there is a slum with sewage flowing everywhere and low, dilapidated houses.

A sallow-faced man with heavy eye bags was squatting at the entrance of his makeshift shack, cobbled together from broken planks and tattered tarpaulin. He had a cheap cigarette dangling from his mouth, and he was squinting as he greedily took the last few puffs.

Next door, a thin woman with patched clothes came out carrying a worn-out wooden basin, her back hunched, and poured the murky, soapy water from the basin onto the muddy ground in front of the door.

As the golden ears of grain fell, the man was rubbing his legs as he stood up.

He instinctively reached out and grabbed the heavy, golden ears of wheat, which fell into his palm. He was stunned for a moment, then his eyes lit up and his Adam's apple bobbed. His first thought was to stuff it into his mouth—he hadn't eaten anything decent for two days.

But then, the golden words that appeared before his eyes completely stunned him. He couldn't read, but he could understand them all. His gaze was fixed on the free food, and soon, joy welled up in his chest.

"Food! The church is giving out food! It's free!" The man jumped up, his face, ashen from malnutrition and long-term alcoholism, flushed with ecstatic joy. He waved the wheat stalks in his hand and shouted to the woman next door who had just finished watering and was staring blankly at the wheat stalks and the words in the air, "Julie! Did you see that?! Bread and clean water!"

His shouts startled the people in the surrounding shacks, and immediately, a suppressed cheer and excited discussion rose and fell.

For the poor struggling to make ends meet, no purification ritual or miracle can compare to the allure of "free food."

Hunger overwhelmed all doubts and anxieties, and many people, without even bothering to gather their belongings, grabbed ears of wheat and eagerly rushed toward the town center.

The man turned excitedly to the woman, speaking rapidly: "Julie, I remember you don't have much bread left at home, do you? Hurry! Take your sick son and head out, or you might not get any!"

The woman looked up and forced a somewhat stiff, but still gentle, smile.

She looked much older than her actual age, with deep-set eyes and prominent cheekbones. Only in her dark brown eyes did a faint, unusual glimmer remain.

“I saw it, Hansen. It’s truly… Goddess of the Mother.” Her voice was soft. “You should go ahead, don’t miss it. I’ll pack up and take my son there right away.”

The man named Hansen rubbed his hands together, his face beaming with joy, and for once again showed a rare display of kindness: "Do you want me to help you support your son? What's his name again... anyway, he's quite ill, isn't he? Can you manage by yourself?"

"No need, Hansen, thank you." The woman's smile deepened slightly, but didn't reach her eyes. "I'm not so weak that I can't support my own son. You should go now."

Hansen didn't insist after hearing this. He grinned, revealing his yellow and black teeth, urged them a couple more times, and then turned around and happily joined the flow of people pouring out of the slums.

Only when Hansen's figure disappeared into the dirty, narrow alley did the barely maintained smile on Julie's face vanish like a fragile shard of ice.

She lowered her head, looking at the plump ear of wheat in her hand, which exuded an enticing aroma, and a flash of undisguised disgust crossed her eyes.

She loosened her fingers, letting the wheat ears fall onto the muddy ground, then lifted her foot, clad in worn-out cloth shoes, and ground it hard and forcefully until the golden wheat grains broke apart and mixed with the mud.

“Eat...eat…” she said very softly, almost through clenched teeth, with a morbid tremor, “you trash…this is your last full meal.”

The woman looked up at the hunched backs of her poor neighbors who were cheering and running towards the church, her dark brown eyes churning with vicious malice.

Look at how happy they are. That Hansen, all he does is drink. He throws all the few coins he earns from odd jobs into cheap taverns and gambling dens. He beats and scolds his sick wife who is unable to work and is only a burden to him. In the end, he smothers her to death with a pillow, just to save that last bit of gruel to keep her alive.

He never gave her a kind look, and after being neighbors for so many years, he never cared whether her son was alive or dead.

Now, just because they heard there was free food, they're in a better mood and can even pretend to be human and ask if they need help.

What a joke.

The woman's lips curled into a distorted arc.

After today, none of you will survive...

She picked up the empty laundry tub and turned back to her darker, musty, and strangely smelly shack.

The shack was cramped. Apart from the tattered wooden plank "bed" where she slept, the most conspicuous thing was the huge cage welded from thick iron bars in the corner.

The cage looked quite old, with rust on the iron bars, but it was still sturdy. At this moment, the cage door was open, and the inside was empty, with only some dark brown, suspicious stains and a few strands of gray-black, stiff hair remaining on the bottom and corners of the cage.

Most notably, near the inner corner of the cage, the iron bars were clearly bitten through from the inside by some enormous force, leaving a hole large enough for a large creature to crawl through.

The woman's gaze fell on the hole. She put down the wooden basin, walked slowly over, and stretched out her withered, bony hand to lovingly stroke the edge of the cold iron cage.

Her voice was extremely low, a murmur that held no affection, but rather a chilling calm and obsession:
"My dear little mouse...why did you run away?"

"Look... if we just stay put for another week, the good days will come..."

Her fingers traced the dark brown stains on the bottom of the cage, her fingertips trembling slightly, and a ferocious expression gradually appeared on her face, a mixture of regret, anger, and a twisted sense of satisfaction.

“But… it doesn’t matter anymore. The female investigator who killed you is dead.” She continued to mutter to herself, her voice ethereal. “The High Priest told me that Sister Tian avenged you, and because of this, the High Priest took the forearm bone I had stolen…”

She suddenly chuckled softly, the laughter dry and harsh.

"You've got quite a bit of influence, you little mouse. Even the High Priest knows your name..."

Her gaze gradually became unfocused; she was no longer speaking to her non-existent son in the empty cage, but was lost in her own thoughts and imagination.

“Now… Mother is leaving. Sister Tian has gathered all the townspeople in the church,” her voice tinged with an almost fanatical anticipation, “those well-dressed, wealthy people who never have to worry about their next meal will soon be weeping in the face of death!”

“They will know—” the woman’s breathing quickened, her malice almost tangible, “that their corpses are no different from those of the poor!”

She seemed to already see that scene, and a low, hoarse laugh escaped her throat.

Meanwhile, outside the town, deep within a cemetery surrounded by overgrown weeds and dilapidated tombstones.

The main force of the church that was rescued is all here.

At this moment, Zeng Lai, Qu Xianqing, and Carlos, who had arrived quietly at some unknown time, were also present among the deacons and guards.

They had not received any notification from the church regarding the wheat harvest, and as "deceased persons" or outside investigators, they were not within the scope of the notification.

But Carlos's paper doll informants in the town still managed to relay everything that was happening there back to him.

"Force all residents to assemble at the church before noon?" Deacon Herbert frowned upon hearing the news, his rugged face filled with worry. "Is the church trying to gather the residents together for protection, to prevent them from being affected when evening arrives?"

Zeng Lai was leaning against an empty stone coffin when he heard this. He scratched his head and his tone directly shattered the last bit of hope in Herbert's words: "Haha, that's definitely what the church is thinking, but the notice was issued in the name of the 'Cardinal in the Red Robe,' brother."

He paused, noticing Herbert's suddenly grim expression, and continued, "We all know who the 'archbishop' is in the church right now. The cult orchestrated this gathering, bringing together all the ordinary people in town, most likely to use them as hostages, right?"

"Used to restrain the enemy at crucial moments, or as a 'sacrifice' offered to the ancient gods or something."

Herbert lowered his head in silence, his calloused hands clenched into fists, knuckles white.

He was certainly aware of this possibility; he simply chose not to consider the worst-case scenario.

After a long silence, he sighed heavily, his voice hoarse: "Then... what should we do? We can't just stand by and watch..."

Qu Xianqing, who had been listening in, suddenly spoke up, her voice clear and calm, without any inflection: "Don't worry, Carlos knows what he's doing, right?"

Her gaze, however, turned to Carlos, who was squatting to the side, idly drawing strange patterns on the ground with a small twig.

Herbert and several core guards around him followed her gaze.

Carlos sensed the gaze, looked up, dusted off his hands, and put on his usual slightly cynical smile.

“That’s right, Deacon Herbert, relax.” He stood up and stretched his neck. “We still have a backup plan. The real archbishop is still in the church; he’ll handle this. In a way, we can also turn the tables on him.”

“The esoteric sects want to muddy the waters and gather people together to make it easier for them to control or exploit them. We, on the other hand, go with the flow, which is actually safer than letting them scatter throughout the town.”

His words were not very detailed, but his certainty and composure strangely soothed the anxious feelings of Herbert and the others.

They were warriors, accustomed to obeying orders and clear plans, and since these powerful investigators, who had proven themselves to be allies, said there was a plan, they chose to believe them.

Herbert took a deep breath, nodded, and asked no more questions. He turned to urge his men to take the time to rest, organize their equipment, and reinforce the temporary fortifications, making final preparations for the fierce battle that might come in the evening.

After Herbert left, Zeng Lai immediately approached Carlos and whispered, "Carlos, I've tried all the sacrifices I could find, but I couldn't find anything in your body that needs purification or treatment, just like there was nothing added to that cup of tea."

Carlos did not show any surprise after hearing this.

He casually tossed aside the twig he had been playing with and patted Zeng Lai on the shoulder: "It's alright, it was expected."

He spoke casually, as if discussing what to have for dinner: "Since we can't find it, then we won't look for it anymore. I'll just have to improvise."

As he spoke, he flipped his hand and took out the [Dreamscape of Azure].

Carlos's fingertips lightly brushed the cool, bluish-green blade, a glint of light flashing in his eyes: "I'll go find Yiqing first and finish the last bit of preparation." (End of Chapter)