The Underworld Sable Envoy: I Cultivate Immortality at the Department of Spiritual Investigation

A thin mist, carrying the damp, fishy smell of pine needles, drifted across the woodland. The once terrifying humanoid peach blossom was now completely withered, blending into the brown soil, leaving only some unnatural, crystalline remnants.

The standard combat boots of the Spirit Investigation Bureau field agents crunched softly on the decaying leaves. I stood a short distance away, watching this now-peaceful "hell on earth," the terror lingering in my heart. Until a piercing scream shattered the forest's tranquility once more.

A field team member stood frozen in place. Embedded in the black mud beneath his feet was a fist-sized sphere, emitting a soft, silvery-white glow. The screen of his portable detector displayed a flat, lifeless line. Just as his gloved fingertips were about to touch the surface of this silvery-white orb—

"laugh!"

With a sharp, sizzling sound, accompanied by excruciating pain, the fingers of the special glove instantly vaporized, severing both fingers at the base and falling to the ground. Blood mingled with the cold morning dew, seeping into the soil.

The remaining team members quickly stepped forward to observe, treat, and transfer the wounded, and all actions were carried out in an orderly manner.

The remaining teammates on site, under remote command from headquarters, began trying various tools and protective measures, but the silvery-white orb seemed to possess an invisible absolute domain, causing any object that approached to experience a strange burning force. Repeated scans by the instruments yielded the same conclusion: the unknown orb showed no spiritual energy fluctuations, no energy reaction, and no life signals.

The field team leader, Dorje, wearing a navy blue windbreaker, rushed to the scene. He glanced at the severed finger and bloodstains on the ground, then looked at the quiet but deadly ball of light, and finally, his gaze fell on me.

"Su Nianyang." His voice was as deep as if it were pressing down on a stone. "Come here, try using 'that' of yours."

I exclaimed "Huh?" and immediately realized what was going on.

Team Leader Dorje's gaze lingered on me, as if searching for the shadow of that black mist.

"I don't know how to control it..." My heart tightened.

"Get closer!" Team Leader Dorje's order left no room for argument.

I hesitated, then crouched down, still half a foot away from the ball of light, when a scorching heat hit me, stinging my skin. Just as I instinctively wanted to pull back—

A familiar, bone-chilling cold suddenly surged from deep within my fingertips!

A thick, viscous black mist, like a snake awakening, emerged from my fingertip and precisely pounced on the silvery-white ball of light, instantly enveloping it.

The burning sensation vanished. The ball of light remained docilely within the black mist, as if its ability to cut through iron like mud had been merely an illusion.

I instinctively stood up and looked at Dorje. As I moved, the ball of light shrouded in black mist shifted in sync, hovering steadily half a foot to my side, like a shadow.

A thoughtful glint flashed in Dorje's eyes: "Try taking two more steps forward."

I took the steps as instructed, and the silvery-white ball of light silently followed, keeping the exact same distance.

"Get on the helicopter." Dorje seemed to have confirmed his guess.

With a pounding heart, I walked toward the roaring helicopter not far away. The ball of light hovered silently behind me. Even with my eyes closed, I could clearly sense its presence—not just see it, but feel some deeper, almost symbiotic connection.

"I'll trouble you, young master, to take this gift back to the station," Dorje said, preparing to pat my shoulder. But his hand froze in mid-air, and he ultimately didn't pat my shoulder. Instead, he abruptly turned his hand and waved it: "Take him back. Monitor him the whole way."

Inside the cabin, the roar of the engines was deafening. I huddled in a corner, watching the "gift" floating beside me. The black mist at my fingertips formed an invisible bridge with it, and as I unconsciously moved my fingers slightly, the orb of light would sway gently in sync, as if breathing.

As I sat in the turbulent helicopter, I could almost feel a cold gaze upon me.

Besides the pilot in the front row, there was only one field team member in the cabin, about my age, with the number "17" printed on his arm patch.

"17" sat directly opposite me, a standard rifle across his lap, his fingers always gripping the handle, his gaze constantly shifting between me and the ball of light, his knuckles turning bluish-white from the excessive force.

"Have you seen this before?" I raised my hand, and the silvery-white ball of light moved slightly by half an inch, as if it had grown onto my body.

17's Adam's apple bobbed violently, his lips pressed into a straight line, and he didn't respond—discipline kept his mouth shut, forbidding him from saying a single extra word to me.

"This thing just severed two of your teammates' fingers, leaving no bone behind." I whispered, my voice muffled by the engine noise.

"Shut up." 17 finally spoke, his voice dry, and his grip on the gun tightened.

The helicopter pierced through the clouds, revealing the outline of Nyingchi below. In a dimension beyond my perception, a fragment of a foul-smelling thought, filled with pain and warning, was crashing into my mind along the fragile bond of our contract:

It wasn't a complete statement, but rather fragmented imagery mixed with a sense of desolation—burning dead wood, dried-up riverbeds, and suffocatingly tight "chains," the path of reincarnation fading away with the withering of life's flower…

And a piercingly sharp warning—Stop!

"Stop?" I suddenly curled up in my seat, clutching my heart tightly with my other hand, a barely perceptible bead of cold sweat seeping from my forehead.

"What's wrong with you?" The field team member "17" immediately raised his gun, his voice tense.

"N-nothing...it's nothing," I forced out the answer through gritted teeth, the coldness in my fingertips and the throbbing pain in my heart undeniably real. That fleeting sensation, combined with the inexplicable weakness after using the black mist...a thought immediately arose: does the use of this black mist come at some unknown cost? Energy doesn't appear out of thin air, nor does it vanish into nothingness...

Meanwhile, in the video conference room on the third floor of the Linzhi Investigation Bureau, the long conference table was filled with core members of the branch. Director Yang stood in front of the large screen, his fingertip hovering over the live footage of the Lulang Peach Blossom Incident—in the image, Su Nianyang stood not far away, a wisp of black mist swirling around his fingertip, with the "tamed" silver-white orb of light suspended beside him...

The above is the entire process of handling the anomaly in the Lulang Forest. An unknown silvery-white light cluster was recovered on-site. Due to its highly aggressive nature, two team members were burned and had two fingers severed during their attempt to retrieve it. Later, Team Leader Dorje discovered that Su Nianyang could control the silvery-white light cluster through his own black mist. It is currently being carried by Su Nianyang and is being escorted by our bureau's helicopter back to Lingdiao No. 3 Courtyard.

As soon as he finished speaking, the branch office reporting interface on the main screen was suddenly covered by a red emergency indicator, and a cold, hard electronic voice slowly rang out in the conference room: "Following instructions from headquarters, immediately convene a national emergency video conference. All branches must maintain connection and are prohibited from interrupting!"

The conference room fell silent instantly. The staff instinctively remained quiet. Soon, the image of the spokesperson from the Spirit Investigation Bureau headquarters appeared on the screen. The spokesperson's expression was solemn, and his first words shattered everyone's expectations: "The following is the report from this emergency meeting—the current theoretical framework of the 'Spirit Realm' has huge blind spots."

Based on current intelligence, the power of the Spirit Realm is not the entirety of supernatural power, but merely one of its manifested forms. While mutated creatures are born from the Spirit Realm, numerous unknown supernatural entities exist outside of our current understanding. Multiple branch offices across the country have already encountered unknown forces that are unidentifiable and unconquerable.

Preliminary analysis suggests that the "Spirit Realm" may only be a secondary derivative of some deeper power activity. The true "source" remains unknown.

A deathly silence quietly spread through the conference room, and shock was written on everyone's face.

"Next, we will play a key excerpt from the interrogation video by the CC City Branch."

The screen cuts to an interrogation room, the cold white light glaringly bright. A man is handcuffed to an interrogation chair, his back ramrod straight, exuding a sharp aura. His face is haggard, his body emaciated, but his eyes are still as sharp as knives.

"I accidentally stumbled into a rift in the spirit realm during an operation. The power of the spirit realm that you have been so painstakingly researching and pursuing is utterly insignificant." His voice was hoarse, but every word was clear, striking the hearts of everyone present.

The interrogator pressed in a deep voice, "Explain yourself clearly."

The man smirked, a hint of mockery in his eyes, his tone dripping with disdain: "How do you explain this so-called spiritual power...? Let me give you an example: what happens if someone runs a marathon?"

"Will you get tired or thirsty?" the interrogator in the video asked after careful consideration.

"If we compare the world between 3 and 4 to a marathon runner, then the few drops of sweat that flow from the runner's body are what you call spiritual power." The man being interrogated in the video was holding his head and trying hard to recall.

The interrogator paused for a moment: "Are there any means of resistance?"

"If a runner only runs without resting, drinking water, or replenishing his energy, he will definitely die!" The man being interrogated said, making a smoking gesture towards the camera.

After offering a cigarette, the interrogator spoke up at the opportune moment: "So, what exactly is that runner who created the spiritual realm?"

The man looked up, his gaze piercing the camera, as if he could see through the screen to everyone: "Between 3 and 4, there is a hidden number. Whoever finds that number will understand everything."

"You suddenly went from the metaphor of a racer to numbers." The interrogator's voice was full of doubt.

"To be precise, that number is a key, a key to unlock another space, another world." The man slowed his speech, each word striking like a hammer blow to the heart. "And that is the source of the spiritual realm."

"What kind of space, or rather, what kind of world is that?"

The man remained silent for a few seconds, then parted his lips slightly, his voice as soft as a sigh, yet every word was piercing, carrying a chilling coldness: "Do you believe in hell?"

As the last word was spoken, the video suddenly went black.

The spokesperson from headquarters reappeared on the screen, his tone increasingly grave: "In response to the recent occurrences of paranormal events in multiple locations across the country, existing equipment is unable to detect any anomalies, let alone provide an effective countermeasure. The following order is hereby issued: All branch offices must report within two days any undetectable and uncounterable paranormal phenomena within their jurisdictions, along with the progress of subsequent handling efforts. No omissions or delays are permitted!"

Meeting adjourned.

Director Yang raised his hand to signal the screen to be turned off. When he looked up again, his face was expressionless, only showing cold decisiveness.

As soon as those two words were spoken, the connection to headquarters was instantly severed, and the screen went completely black.

The conference room remained deathly silent, with only the faint whirring of the air conditioning vents. Shock and solemnity were written on everyone's faces. The events of the past few dozen seconds had completely overturned everyone's understanding of supernatural forces.

Director Yang's knuckles turned white as he gripped the walkie-talkie, and his fingertips turned blue from the force. After a moment, his deep voice rang out in the conference room, carrying an unquestionable authority: "The laboratory shall immediately activate the highest level of preparedness. Once the unknown silvery-white light cluster arrives, we shall simultaneously detect its connection with Su Nianyang's black mist, 24 hours a day without interruption, and report the data in real time."

A clear response came from the other end of the walkie-talkie, but Director Yang did not put it down. His fingertip paused on the button, and he issued another order, his tone even colder and more vigilant: "Special Operations Team, once the helicopter arrives, immediately seal off the helipad. Take Su Nianyang and the unknown silver-white orb to Interrogation Room One and detain them in solitary confinement. Activate the highest level of surveillance. Without my written instructions, no one is allowed to approach, talk to, or have any direct contact with them! Monitor their condition closely at all times, and report any unusual activity immediately."

After issuing the order, he looked up at everyone in the conference room, his gaze sweeping over each face, and said in a deep voice, "That silvery-white light is very likely related to the unknown supernatural power mentioned by headquarters. I don't care what methods you use, you must find a breakthrough in that silvery-white light and in Su Nianyang."

Especially Su Nianyang; his survival in Lago Village and his escape unscathed from the unknown humanoid peach blossom incident was definitely not a fluke. The secret he holds is absolutely terrifying.

After saying that, Director Yang turned to the staff beside him and said with concern, "We must guard against Su Nianyang, but we can't push him too hard. You all understand the principle of a cornered beast fighting back."

His fingers tapped heavily on the conference table, causing the files on the Lu Lang case to tremble slightly and make a soft crackling sound: "Until we figure out the origin of the black mist on his body, he is the biggest variable and the biggest hidden danger for the Linzhi Paranormal Investigation Bureau."

Outside the window, the sky over Linzhi had completely darkened. The damp, cold air from the Yarlung Tsangpo River, mixed with raindrops, tapped against the glass, making a soft, rustling sound. In the distance, Namcha Barwa Peak was hidden in thick clouds, its outline completely obscured, as if shrouded in a heavy shadow.

On the helipad, all special operations team members were in position, their standard weapons poised and ready, awaiting the helicopter's landing. Meanwhile, the lights in interrogation room number one were already on, their cold, hard shadows casting a net-like pattern across the floor, silently unfolding in the night, waiting to capture me and this silvery-white ball of light carrying unknown secrets.