absurd deduction game.

After listening to Funer's words, Yiqing gently waved her folding fan.

“I see.” His voice was still clear and bright, with just the right amount of playfulness. “Another standard villain who wreaks havoc on the world because he hates humanity.”

Fernail tilted her head slightly.

She lived in the Victorian era and had come into contact with merchants or investigators from the East, but she was quite unfamiliar with the derogatory term "standard villain" from the modern pancultural context and could not fully understand its specific meaning and the mocking connotation behind it.

However, considering the context, she could roughly guess that it wasn't a nice word.

She wasn't angry; on the contrary, she was quite calm.

“I don’t deny it.” Fernail looked directly at Yiqing. “The human species is inherently flawed. They are selfish, short-sighted, and greedy, adorning themselves with aesthetically unappealing desires and crude rituals. Despite their fragile bodies and ridiculously low reproductive capacity, they occupy the vast majority of the world’s territory and have become the so-called masters.”

Her tone carried a cold, condescending judgment.

“Their existence makes the ‘beauty’ of this world singular, dull, and filled with nauseating money and moral shackles. So…” Her red lips curled up, and her smile finally revealed the undisguised evil and fanaticism that belonged to the monster itself, “I really like the fusion rituals of the esoteric religion, which allow those fragile human bodies to merge with other ancient, elegant, and powerful beings in pain and ecstasy… including myself.”

As soon as she finished speaking, the smile on her lips widened suddenly, and a crack silently appeared in her skin.

A pair of slender, forked, butterfly-like antennae covered with fine, dark green down slowly emerged from the opening and swayed gently beside her beautiful cheek.

“Look,” Fernail’s voice carried a hint of seduction, her inhuman eyes fixed on Yi Qing, “isn’t this kind of 'human'... much more interesting than before?”

Yi Qing swiftly unfolded her folding fan and gently held it in front of the lower half of her face.

"I cannot agree." His voice came through the fan, his tone carrying a subtle disdain.

He paused, then changed the subject, asking a seemingly unrelated question: "Before you became like this, were you a monster or a human?"

Furner's eyes flickered, and her protruding tentacles and limbs curled up slightly.

She was silent for a few seconds, but the smile on her face returned to its composure, even carrying a strange sense of nostalgia.

“I don’t remember,” she said softly, as if recalling a distant and hazy dream. “Am I the little girl hiding behind the door, watching helplessly as her fat, ugly, and drunken father lay on top of his cheap mistress? Or am I the ‘nest’ that has been sleeping for years beneath the permafrost of the polar ice caps?”

She raised her hand, which had just been burned by the purifying flames and still bore a terrifying mark, and gently stroked her outstretched tentacles.

“That doesn’t matter.” Fernail’s voice drifted away. “Ever since I was reborn amidst the excruciating pain that almost tore my soul apart and crushed me, and the excited laughter and clapping of my occult teacher… I no longer need to distinguish between them.”

Yi Qing listened to these distorted remarks with a blank expression on her face and no emotion in her heart.

This is nothing more than a cliché story about a young girl who goes astray and, under the influence or assistance of some eccentric mystic, merges with a monster.

Given that Fernal is now the leader of the cult, one can imagine what happened to that "teacher"—he is most likely no longer alive, or perhaps she disposed of him herself.

He had no interest in Fernal's past.

“Someone asked me to stall you,” Yi Qing suddenly said, interrupting Funer’s seemingly urge to continue her venting.

He closed his folding fan, tapped his palm lightly with the fan rib, his posture still relaxed, but his tone had become more businesslike and indifferent, "Due to certain restrictions, I am prohibited from exerting my full strength in this world and excessively affecting... well, the progress of the instance. Therefore, I cannot kill you directly."

He paused, his deep blue eyes calmly fixed on Fernail.

"But it's more than enough to keep you trapped for two hours."

Fernal was somewhat confused by words like "copy" and "process," but she didn't show it, instead interpreting them as some kind of obscure Eastern expression about fate or mission.

She slightly raised her chin, regaining the composed demeanor befitting someone in a superior position.

“Since you have no intention of cooperating,” her voice turned cold, “then I can only regard you as an obstacle to humanity’s alliance, and eliminate you along with the rest of us after the divine kingdom descends.”

Upon hearing this, Yi Qing not only showed no nervousness, but instead tilted her head slightly, revealing a smile that was almost provocative: "Why don't you start 'cleaning up' me now?"

Fernail lowered her eyes, her long eyelashes casting a small shadow beneath them, while her red lips curved into a smile.

“You and I both know that provocation is useless against me.” She raised her eyes, her gaze calm and unwavering. “To be able to establish the Secret Church single-handedly and develop it to its current size despite the encirclement and suppression of many orthodox churches… I have never relied on fighting.”

She took a small step forward, her high heels making a soft sound in the silence. The oppressive feeling around her did not intensify; instead, it became more subdued, as if she had merged with the surrounding shadows.

“I admit that my ‘nest’ form is more suitable for nurturing than for head-on battles. Fighting you here would not only deplete my strength and waste my time, but could also affect my ability to conduct the final ritual.” Furnel’s voice was unhurried, carrying a calm yet cruel rationality. “Therefore, ever since I discovered you, I have been backing down, trying to resolve the issue in a less strenuous way.”

She stared at Yiqing: "But that doesn't mean you can trap me."

“In a sense,” Fernal’s voice lowered, with an undeniable certainty, “I, who represent the concepts of ‘chaos’ and ‘shadow’… cannot be trapped by anyone.”

After listening, Yi Qing nodded very politely, as if agreeing with the other party's point of view.

"What a pity." But he sighed softly, with just the right amount of regret in his tone, "You don't seem to have realized... that you're already in a 'predicament'."

Fennell's eyes narrowed sharply.

Almost instinctively, she expanded her senses. Her attention had been diverted by the paper doll trap, the injury, and the conversation, but now, focusing intently, she immediately noticed something amiss—

The bluish mist that had originally lingered only on the metal door at the entrance had somehow quietly seeped into the underground corridor!

The fog was still thin, almost indistinguishable from the shadows and dim light, but it was there nonetheless, like the finest spider web, silently filling the entire space.

Moreover, the sealed doors on both sides of the corridor, which originally exuded a faint chaotic aura, had become deathly silent at some point. The strange beings that were sealed away seemed to have collectively fallen into a deep sleep, remaining completely still.

The entire environment exuded an indescribable "strangeness," as if it were covered by an invisible film.

Fennell looked at Yiqing with icy eyes.

Yi Qing's figure gradually became transparent under her gaze. He even maintained his composure, gently waving his hand holding the folding fan at Funer as if to say goodbye.

"Consider this labyrinth a gift for our first meeting," Yi Qing's voice seemed to come from afar, carrying an ethereal echo. "In the East, a meeting gift is a very important etiquette~"

Before he finished speaking, his figure, clad in a flowing blue robe, had completely vanished into the increasingly dense blue mist, leaving no trace.

In the corridor, only Fennell remained, surrounded by a silent, chilly blue mist.

Fernail stood there, her face so dark it could drip water.

She didn't try to shout; it would be pointless.

Without uttering a word, her body suddenly disintegrated, transforming into a viscous, churning, insubstantial entity somewhere between shadow and dark green chaos, quickly merging into the surrounding environment.

Several dark green, semi-illusory butterflies separated from the chaos, fluttering and landing behind her, flying back the way they came. The chaotic shadows traversed the walls and ground at breakneck speed, defying the laws of physics, and instantly flowed past the heavy metal door.

However, behind the door was still that dark and oppressive underground corridor.

On either side were tightly closed doors engraved with dark red runes, and the blue mist in the air seemed to be a little thicker than before.

Fennell's chaotic form reformed into a human shape in the corridor, her light gold skirt cascading down.

She stood still, her gaze quickly sweeping over the almost identical scene, her brows furrowed.

"Spatial folding?"

She muttered to herself, her tone tinged with uncertainty. She was well-versed in a tantric system based on chaos, shadows, the fusion of life, and unclean rituals, but her understanding of this kind of power involving space was limited, perhaps even less than that of Evan, the chosen one of the ancient gods.

Having suffered from her lack of education, Fennell was unaware that this was a ghostly maze sent by an Eastern spirit.

She reached out and pressed the nearest sealed door, her fingertips shimmering with a dark green light as she tried to sense what lay behind it.

Empty.

There was no sense of chaos, no throbbing of life, not even the "presence" that a sealed object should have; behind the door was nothingness.

She tried the other doors next to her, and the result was exactly the same.

This is not the underground sealed layer of the church at all, but a special space that mimics the underground environment and was constructed in some unknown way!
Just as Fernal realized this—

"Boom!"

A muffled thud suddenly sounded from the door panel beside her, which she had just inspected.

Fernail turned her head abruptly.

A blood-red handprint appeared out of nowhere on the previously empty, dark door panel.

The handprint was small, with slender fingertips, as if it belonged to a young girl. The bloodstains at the edges seemed not to have dried yet, and were slowly flowing downwards.

This is just the beginning.

Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump!

One muffled thud after another came from every door panel on both sides of the corridor. In the blink of an eye, all the doors in sight were covered with bright red blood handprints, densely packed and haphazardly intertwined, which looked particularly eerie in the dim light and blue mist.

At the same time, a very light and ethereal girl's laughter, like the tinkling of silver bells, drifted from the end of the corridor.

Fennell looked up abruptly and saw a blurry figure of a girl in a tattered red dress flash by in the mist at the end of the corridor, leaving only a receding crimson hem.

A sinister chill, completely different from the Kryptonian lineage and belonging to a different power spectrum, quietly crept up Fennell's spine.

……

The atmosphere in the prayer hall on the upper level of the church is completely different from that in the underground.

The lengthy purification ceremony had ended, and most of the residents who had received bread and clean water remained in their places, talking quietly or resting silently, waiting for the next steps.

The church's middle and lower-ranking deacons and nuns were scattered around, maintaining basic order, their faces bearing a professional gentleness and a hint of weariness.

Sister Tian, ​​disguised as the archbishop in a red robe, stood in an inconspicuous spot behind the pulpit, maintaining the solemnity and compassion befitting an archbishop, but a barely perceptible wariness lurked deep in her eyes.

The purification ritual did not seem to have the desired effect, and the high priest suddenly left and went underground... There has been no news for so long, and he has not returned. What happened?
As she was pondering whether she should find a reasonable excuse to leave temporarily and check the situation underground, a series of undisguised footsteps came from the side entrance of the prayer hall.

Several figures pushed open the door and walked in.

They were all wearing similar dark trench coats that allowed for easy movement, with wide silver rings and silver standard pistols strapped to their belts.

The group walked in unison, but the subtle distance between them suggested that they were not very familiar with each other.

The leader was Zeng Lai.

As soon as he entered, his gaze swept quickly across the hall, then his smile widened as he greeted several priests nearby whom he recognized:

Hey! Busy?

When the deacons saw Zeng Lai, they were taken aback at first, but then they recognized him as the straightforward Eastern investigator who had been helping out at the church recently. Their faces softened and they nodded in response.

Zeng Lai continued walking straight toward the pulpit without stopping. His gaze met that of the fake archbishop Tian on the platform. His smile remained unchanged, and he made a somewhat clumsy but roughly correct gesture of prayer to the Mother Goddess of Harvest in front of his chest with his right hand.

"Good afternoon, Your Excellency the Archbishop." Zeng Lai's loud voice echoed in the hall, attracting the attention of some residents. "May the light of the Mother Goddess always guide us."

A slight alarm bell rang in Tian's heart, but she showed no sign of it on her face. She returned the gesture with a solemn prayer, her voice gentle and kind: "Good afternoon, Investigator. May the Mother Goddess bless you. You are here..."

“Oh, we heard that the church is holding a large purification ceremony today and has invited all the townspeople.” Zeng Lai continued, speaking naturally, as if he were just a helpful neighbor visiting. “I figured it must be a big event, and maintaining order and calming the crowds would definitely require a lot of manpower. Although we in Ideal Country don’t know much about purification ceremonies, we can still help maintain order.”

He paused, his smile honest but his eyes revealing an undeniable sincerity: "The church is short-staffed, and since we're all just sitting around doing nothing, we can lend a hand and free up some manpower for more important matters, right?"

His words were perfectly reasonable and flawless.

Tian's fingers, hidden in the sleeve of her red robe, twitched slightly. She couldn't find any reasonable reason to refuse; to refuse would only make her seem guilty or illogical.

Moreover, these investigators were all familiar faces in the church and already had a position to participate in church-organized activities.

She could only suppress her doubts and show just the right amount of relief and gratitude on her face.

“By Mother Goddess, thank you for your kindness and assistance.” Tian’s voice was amplified through mysticism to ensure that everyone in the hall could hear it. “At such a time, our friends in the Ideal Kingdom are still willing to lend a helping hand to maintain the peace of Yorikef. The Church will remember this kindness.”

She nodded slightly: "Then, I'll trouble you all. Please assist our deacons in maintaining order in the prayer hall. May the Mother God be with you."

“Praise be to the Mother Goddess.” Zeng Lai responded readily, then winked at the divination practitioners behind him, and walked to various parts of the hall, naturally beginning to whisper with the intermediate deacons and blending into the ranks of those maintaining order.

Of the surviving deducers, almost all of them came, except for a few who had faked their deaths. Although they were competitors, at this point, when someone suggested going to the church to advance the mission, naturally no one objected.

At this moment, their very presence is a form of invisible deterrence and surveillance.

Tian stood on the pulpit, looking at the few figures in trench coats who had appeared in the hall below, his eyes darkening.

Now she has even less chance to leave. Even if she makes an excuse to rest, these unruly outsiders might still try to interfere. (End of Chapter)