absurd deduction game.

After graduating from school, Ivan worked at the church.

Whether it is day or night, the stained-glass windows of the church emit a soft glow. Under the great holy light and the statues of gods, the golden fragments of light, carrying the scent of wheat, linger with the sound of prayers, and the magnificent hall seems to be forever free of darkness.

But in Ivan's eyes, it wasn't like that.

From the time he could remember, the world in his eyes had always been dark, as if it were forever filtered through an indelible, gloomy lens.

There was no light on people's faces, only shadows of varying shades; their clothes were dusty and gray; even the candlelight on the altar appeared to them as a flickering, dim yellow blob, unable to dispel the surrounding gloom.

Gradually, he learned to distinguish people by the intensity of their shadows; those with lighter shadows were probably "good" people, while those with heavy shadows, as if they were about to drip ink, required caution.

Why is this?

Ivan didn't know.

At first, he secretly asked his mother, who was horrified when she heard the question. She scolded him as a monster and kicked him out of the new house she had moved into after marrying a stranger that very night. She sent him to a child welfare institution run by the church and, at the last moment before turning to leave, hesitated and squatted down, telling him never to tell anyone about his eye problem.

That was probably one of the few times she gave advice from a mother's perspective.

Of course, it cannot be ruled out that they were afraid that Ivan's unusual exposure would implicate her, his biological mother.

Ivan was very sad. Was he actually a monster? Like those monsters that would make other children scream when they mentioned them, and who were always killed by the hero in playhouse? Even his mother avoided him like the plague.

But he quickly came to a realization.

The mother wasn't necessarily afraid.

Perhaps, the desire to get rid of the burden had finally found a breakthrough, so the woman didn't even bother to ask any questions. She pretended to be terrified, couldn't wait to get rid of him, and started a real new life with a new man.

She certainly didn't know that on the day they parted, the image of her reflected in Ivan's pupils was almost overwhelmed by the darkness of her entire being, and the expression on her face was inexplicably blurred, gradually distorting into a smile in Ivan's view, conveying a sense of relief.

From that day on, Ivan knew that his dark eyes could "see" the true nature of people hidden beneath their skin—albeit only the negative aspects.

A few years after their separation, her mother fell seriously ill. Her new husband refused to spend nearly half of his savings on her treatment, despite her desperate pleas, anger, and insults. The man declared that death was coming upon her with just one sentence: "I still have to raise my child and can't waste all my money on you."

Before she died, the woman found Ivan through a nun from the church, took his hand, and apologized.

She was already very weak at that time and could not get out of bed. There was very little flesh left in her palms, and when she grabbed him, it felt almost rough to the touch, which made him feel very uncomfortable.

He stood by the bed, listening to the woman's intermittent murmurs. Her mouth opened and closed, and he occasionally heard her say something like "Mommy loves you," but he didn't pay any attention. Ivan's attention was focused on what was in front of him. He saw the expression on the woman's face gradually blur into extreme longing and hatred.

I don't know who it's aimed at, but it's definitely not him; he's not that important.

Then, the woman died with a snap.

At least the man didn't leave his remarried wife's body exposed in the open. He bought her a burial plot in a suburban cemetery, held the funeral, sold the house, and disappeared in Yolikev with his own child.

Ivan brought flowers to sweep the grave, and smiled brightly in front of the woman's tombstone.

I'm so happy, Mom, you've gotten your comeuppance so quickly.

He put down the flowers and cheerfully told the woman on the tombstone that this was the last time she would receive flowers, and from now on, no one would mourn her anymore; he was going to live his "new life" too.

Ivan grew up in town, went to school when he was old enough, and then got into Yolikev University’s seminary on his own merit.

His closest confidante was the nun who raised him. Thanks to her, he quickly gained entry into the clergy circle of Harvest Church. Even the archbishop liked him very much. This is why, just a few years after graduating from seminary and joining the church, he had already reached a relatively high position. The archbishop treated him as a half-secretary, and the senior deacons would think of him for any activities.

Everyone thought that Ivan was lively, cheerful, simple, and happy, and they enjoyed being with him.

But in Ivan's eyes, the people in the church were no different; most of them were shrouded in a uniform, moderate gray, except for the always smiling old nun, Tian. Her shadow had a sticky, old-stain-like quality, deep and thick, yet he couldn't bring himself to dislike her.

In the past three months, many strange things have started happening in the town. Some people have died, and the faces of every town resident have become more somber, as if a hidden malice is brewing in everyone's heart amidst unease.

Then, fifty strangers arrived in town all at once, supposedly investigators from the ideal state.

When Ivan first encountered them, he was startled. He was almost astonished. These people were so different. The shades of their shadows were almost extreme. Some were as white as a statue of the Mother Goddess, while others were as black as ink. His eyes were overwhelmed. He thought to himself, "The Ideal Country really accepts all kinds of people. No wonder it's a neutral organization. It's chaotic enough."

But they died very quickly.

Perhaps because the number of casualties far exceeded expectations, the Ideal State sent another batch of people. Ivan, having gained experience, was still in charge of distributing equipment to the newcomers.

As night fell, he habitually surveyed the investigators.

Oh, Mother Goddess.

Among these people, there were several who, in his eyes, no longer possessed any human qualities whatsoever. Were they really investigators?

If the ideal world is so tolerant of those who are different from humans, wouldn't he be better suited to be an investigator than stay in the Mother Goddess's church? At least he would have many of his own kind...

Just then, another person walked into the hall.

Ivan glanced over instinctively.

……

The sound of "He" flowed along with the sound of the fountain, creating ripples in the pool.

"The moment he looked up and saw you—"

"His vision suddenly went 'buzz,' as if he had been hit hard by something, and the perfectly sealed shell cracked open, making him truly aware of his own chaos."

“I felt the fluctuations of his soul, leaping into his eyes, sharing everything about him.”

"Your figure is a pure, viscous 'darkness' that seems to devour all light. You stand there, the shadows around you writhing, roots taking hold at your feet, sending curses into the ground, gripping the heart of this town tightly."

"The purity of that dark 'hue' surpassed anything Ivan had seen in twenty years—it was deeper and more... 'attractive' than the filthy shadows projected into his eyes by the most depraved cultists."

“That wasn’t fear. At least not for Ivan.” “At that moment, something in the depths of his chaotic soul clicked, a rusty gear was locked into a fitting groove, and a cold, trembling, yet exhilarating feeling shot up his spine.”

"He could almost hear the sound of his own blood pounding in his eardrums."

“‘How close we are,’ I heard him think, ‘like he’s found his home.’”

"He hurriedly lowered his head, pretending to tidy up his belongings, and handed you the last silver ring. The moment your eyes met, his mind was captivated by the vortex around you, unable to look away. He stared at you blankly for a long time, like a naive young church boy who had never met anyone from outside the town."

"Later, he hid behind a pillar and stole another glance at you. That walking, chilling darkness stood out starkly against the surrounding gray background. His mind, which had been in a state of ignorance, was scalded by that extreme 'darkness,' and for the first time, it produced a clear 'fluctuation.'"

"He felt curious, almost instinctively wanting to get closer to the center of that darkness to see what was going on, a longing mixed with a trembling sense of closeness that he himself could not understand."

"It's like suddenly seeing something darker than the night in the middle of an eternal night."

As He spoke, He laughed.

“Ivan is a pure human being, and his chaos is still in its infancy. You are the one who inspired him.”

Yu Xing denied it, saying, "You can't try to frame me. If it was the power of the curse on me that attracted him, shouldn't he be more interested in the performer?"

“No, you are different,” He said. “That thing called the actor is no longer pure. What drives him is not power, but obsession.”

Suddenly, a concept popped up, and before Yu Xing could suddenly perk up and ask further questions, [He] steered the conversation back to Yorikef.

"Ivan will remain at the Church of the Harvest Mother. This is the most important stage of his life. One day in the future, this young man, who is naturally drawn to darkness, will make a choice—whether to pretend for the rest of his life and end up in the restraint of light, or to follow the desires deep in his heart and embrace the darkness?"

"What difference does it make to you?" Yu Xing squinted.

He said, “If he chooses the latter, I will be very satisfied; his actions will bring me new believers.”

Yu Xing noticed that "He" refers to His followers, the followers of the gods of Yin Yang City.

So, are the gods of Yin-Yang City also searching for new believers? Do they still need faith?
Unfortunately, no matter how easy He seems to communicate, His way of gaining followers is based on harming the majority of humanity. If Ivan really does embrace darkness in the future, who knows how many of the current priests of the Harvest Mother will die as a result.

“Let’s stop here,” said the wooden-faced man. “I had to get this masterpiece out of the open, and now that at least one person knows the truth, it’s enough to let that hidden calamity…spread.”

He stood up from the bench, looked against the fountain, and turned to "look" at Yu Xing again: "You are very lucky. The Faceless Ones are silent, but they are keen to wander around towns built by humans. They are monsters that are close to humans and will not even attack anyone on their own initiative."

"Therefore, I will once again live in peace with you."

"But my advice still stands. Next time we meet, you'd better watch out for me. Hopefully, you'll bring my child with you then, in exchange for your life."

Despite this, Yu Xing felt that "He" had come to deliver intelligence to him.

He did most of the talking during the conversation, providing some seemingly plausible but ultimately unreliable information, while Yu Xing was more like an observer.

He seemed lost in thought, then waved to the Faceless One: "Well then, goodbye?"

……

On a narrow road outside the town, a coachman was driving a horse-drawn carriage along when another carriage passed by.

The horses' hooves trotted lightly along the wet dirt road. Before long, the outline of the town of Yolikev came into view. The driver slowly stopped, leaned out, and raised the lantern at his feet.

He glanced at it in the light.

Some people were waiting at the entrance to the town.

The driver called out from ahead, "Are you the investigator, Miss?"

The figure was quite blurry. She didn't look very tall, was rather thin, and seemed to have long hair. Her hands were in her trench coat pockets. The coachman instinctively assumed that she was a woman who had survived Yolikev's mission.

But as soon as the other person opened his mouth, the driver knew he had said the wrong thing.

It was a cool, detached male voice speaking in an Eastern language, the pronunciation of the characters rhythmic and carrying a hint of enigmatic playfulness: "Miss, may I ride in your car?"

The driver smiled and apologized, "I'm sorry, sir, my eyesight isn't very good. Please get in."

The coachmen were specially trained by the Republic to safely pick up the investigators after their missions were completed, in case the investigators were trapped in hallucinations and thought they had escaped danger when it was just an illusion.

There was a time when a legendary investigator submitted a report to headquarters confirming the completion of his mission and informing them that he would return within a week.

Everyone thought it was over, but half a month later, there was still no news of the legendary investigator. The investigators sent to provide reinforcements also failed to find him. He had vanished into thin air.

Six months later, someone finally discovered this legendary investigator.

His face was on the road sign at the entrance of the village where the investigation had been completed, and he greeted the passing investigators with great familiarity: "Hey, long time no see."

Passersby were shocked and saddened, asking him about his experiences and why he had become like this.

He looked puzzled: "What have I become? I'm fine, buddy. I've been taking on jobs everywhere, I'm busy all the time!"

But his feet were clearly rooted in a sewer teeming with mosquitoes and flies, and had been rotting for a long time.

The moment he stepped out of the village, the monster that had deceived him pulled him into a long illusion and then dismembered him in reality. The legendary investigator was thus left here piece by piece forever, never to know that his last mission had actually failed.

Since then, the Republic has trained its own drivers who are responsible not for the outward journey, but only for the return journey. Even if they are taking the train, they are responsible for the section of the journey from the mission location to the station.

The driver waited for the Eastern investigator to board the carriage. The carriage swayed slightly. He put the lantern back at his feet and gently urged the horse, "Turn around, old friend."

The actor stared at the coachman's retreating figure.

His fingers curled slightly, as if suppressing an urge to do something. (End of Chapter)