I loaded the Mysticism panel.

Chapter 200 Response

The fifth ring is being replicated up to the last set of inscriptions.

The old man squatted down so many times today that he had to support his knee with his left hand every time he got up, but his hand movements were still perfectly normal.

Ms. Maud followed behind him, filling in the wax, while Mr. Spence smoothed out the gaps with silver powder; the three of them worked together seamlessly.

Richard held up his camera and pressed the shutter to capture each step of the process.

The film reel has been switched to its fifth roll, and in the viewfinder of the Colton 120, the inscription on the fifth ring lights up section by section.

Mrs. McNeill carried the silver jug, and the holy water flowed along the ditch.

"The fifth ring is activated." The medium put the silver pot back into the leather case.

Just as she finished speaking, the jade brooch on her chest emitted a tremor.

Mrs. McNeil reached out and pressed the brooch down.

The bird spirit residing inside the jade brooch has been acting as a watcher. At this moment, it flutters around inside the brooch, conveying what it senses to its master through a thread of spiritual energy.

The medium pressed her hand on the brooch for two seconds, then lifted it and looked at Mr. Hutton.

The two did not speak, but exchanged a glance.

Almost at the same moment, a soft cracking sound came from the joint of Lieutenant Colonel Ode's iron fist from the outer ring.

The tradition of strong winds allows the lieutenant colonel to "read the wind," and he can sense the ether flowing in a certain direction from underground.

"Stop for a moment."

The entire cave fell silent.

Richard originally thought he would see the same scene as during the outer fog riot, with clumps of grayish-white ethereal fog seeping upwards from the depths.

But this time is different.

Within the nine stone rings, the five activated light rings were steadily lit.

The ether flows along the grooves in a consistent direction with a uniform rhythm.

The problem lies on the inside of the silver plate in the very center of the fifth ring.

When the seal is activated, the ether should be drawn in from the outside to the inside, firmly suppressing the thing at the bottom of the pit.

But at this moment, the direction of that etheric flow is reversed.

With the misty shadows causing such a ruckus on the outer edge, everyone's attention was drawn to the entrance of the secret passage and the outer edge, and no one looked at the back of the silver plate at the innermost part of the seal.

Richard stared at the reverse current for a few seconds, recalling the "double lips" and "pairs" set he had previously broken.

[Critical Thinking] The speed of his interpretation since the start of the process allowed him to quickly build a logical chain.

Mirror image, bidirectional, one in and one out.

This reverse flow and the forward sealing of ether form a mirror structure.

………………

Let's go back a few days.

In a room of an ordinary, cheap hotel in south Briston, a piece of paper lay open on the desk.

The above is the internal schedule for the spring seal maintenance at the Briston office, which should have been locked in the office's filing cabinet.

Its presence on this desk speaks volumes.

A person sits at the table.

He looked no different from any other unemployed dockworker in the city.

But in this operation, his role was that of "responder leader".

The first person to respond smoothed out the scheduling paper with their fingers.

He has been in this line of work for many years, and he always does his homework before the operation is extremely thorough.

The branch office has a complete set of well-established rules for dealing with people like him.

But those rules were designed to deal with one or two stragglers who had nowhere else to go and had sneaked in on their own.

What he was going to do was not within the expected framework of those rules from the very beginning.

Someone got this schedule for him.

The name in the pit was chosen for him by other people.

He was just the nail pushed to the front of this machine.

The man first went through the list of attendees from beginning to end.

Lieutenant Colonel Ode, a master of the Gale tradition, is the strongest fighter.

This one is the most troublesome; his "wind" can read the subtle movements within the air.

Mrs. McNeil, a minor expert in hidden directions, the most comprehensive.

With the seven spiritual artifacts in hand, control, assistance, observation, negotiation, and anchoring are all readily available.

Wentworth, head of the inspection team at the Briston office, a seasoned hunter.

With its explosive power and high speed, it's a great weapon for frontal assaults.

Mr. Hutton, an old fellow who has been stuck at the threshold of minor proficiency for many years, should not be underestimated.

The respondent added annotations next to each name and evaluated them one by one.

In the middle of the list are several professional hunters and two secret agents who applied from Manchester City.

The response team categorized them as the "executive level," meaning that while it would take some effort to confront them, they wouldn't cause any major trouble.

There are a few more names at the end of the list.

A newly graduated military academy hunter, a new recruit to fill a vacancy.

The first response was written next to the character: "Immature, easily disturbed."

A retired coroner, an unfinished apprentice of Lady Mary.

The first word in the response should be: 混子 (hùnzi), 杂鱼 (záyú).

The last name is even less noticeable.

Trainee inspector, student recorder, a newcomer.

The first person paused next to the name.

His pen hovered above the paper, and he wrote two words.

"Ignore the menial workers."

He didn't know who the child was, nor did he care.

Newcomers may not even have a stable complete ether microcirculation. They go down into the well to do odd jobs, take photos, and keep records with their teachers.

He's seen this kind of character too many times in the games he's played; it never poses any variable.

He put down his pen and re-examined the entire layout.

The riot in the outer ring was an open secret.

Its purpose is to draw everyone's attention to the outer ring and the entrance to the secret passage.

The real knife will stab in from the unguarded inside.

When it comes to doing this first thing, I never rely on myself alone.

He folded the schedule paper and lit it over the flame of the kerosene lamp.

The flames licked the edge of the paper, slowly burning the words to ashes.

The person who responded raised their hand and looked at their palm.

The things that should be there beneath the skin are being eroded away inch by inch.

He had already infiltrated in reverse a few days ago, aiming to deliver that "response" at the deepest point of the star.

………………

In the underground cave, the lieutenant colonel finished reading the direction of the current.

"The misty shadows at the entrance of the secret passage are an open secret."

"The real thing comes from within."

Wentworth drew his enchanted twin swords again.

"Which route?" the inspection team leader asked.

Lieutenant Colonel Ode had not yet had a chance to answer.

From deeper within the dark passage came the first chant, a soft and distant sound almost drowned out by the echoes within the cave.

Everyone present who felt inspired experienced a sudden tightness in their chest.

That was a fragment of a name.

A fragment of the name of the thing at the bottom of the pit, woven from the fear and pain of countless dead.

The first response team has appeared.

They appeared on the left side of the passage entrance, and three figures slowly emerged from the grayish-white ethereal mist.

The one in the lead stood at the very front, a fragment of his name rolling out of his throat.

The second person stood half a step behind it, their chest rising and falling in perfect sync with its movements.

The third one stood at the back, head down, motionless.

Lead vocals, harmonies, final key.

"Xiao Ma, the three on the left, intruders will be treated as evil spirits!" the second team leader shouted.

Little Ma raised his flintlock pistol and fired a shot at the lead singer at the front.

The silver lead bullet pierced the lead singer's chest, and a small patch of his greyish-white ethereal mist dissipated, but his chanting did not cease.

The second group leader rushed forward and smashed the dark silver gem on the butt of his rifle at the lead singer.

The silver light sliced ​​the lead singer in two, severing that section of the chant.

But just as the lead singer's human form was cut apart, the last one, who had been hanging his head and not moving, suddenly raised his head.

A smile appeared on its face.

Then, he silently dispersed, transforming into a wisp of pure ether, and sank towards the core of the pit.

The light tree inside Richard's chest trembled violently.

"Stop!"

Mrs. McNeil was the first to react.

The medium spoke almost as soon as the wisp of ether sank.

His voice wasn't loud, but it dominated the entire room.

"This is a response group; I've seen similar things elsewhere."

"In groups of three, each of you kill it and then offer it as a sacrifice to the bottom of the pit."

"Your silver bullets and enchanted knives are the opposite of what you use against them. To kill is to feed."

All the hunters on the outer edge stopped moving.

"Then don't kill them?" The second squad leader raised his gun. "What if they charge at us? Just stand there and take the beating?"

"They can't hurt you." Mrs. McNeil stared at the entrance to the tunnel.

"The real anchor point hasn't emerged yet."

Mr. Hutton then straightened up from behind the inscription table.

"Madam is right, but there's something even worse."

He raised his hand and pointed to the entrance of the secret passage.

Inside, the second, third, and fourth response groups were emerging one after another.

One group after another, seemingly endless.

"I've seen reverse infiltration before."

"But that kind of thing is usually something that one or two madmen sneak into on their own; it never amount to anything."

"Today... so many response teams, every single one of them is lined up and sent in."

"This is not something that desperate lunatics would do."

He looked up.

"Someone has brought out the entire ritual, all in one place."

There was a moment of silence in the cave.

Just then, a chanting sound came from even deeper within.

This sound was different from the previous responses; it was deeper, slower, and more aged.

That fragment of a name was uttered with remarkable completeness in that single sound.

Lieutenant Colonel Ode was on the outer circle, and the fierce wind read out the direction of the ether for him.

"He came in a few days ago," the lieutenant colonel said through gritted teeth. "He's been inside ever since, waiting for this moment."

The one who responded emerged from the deepest part.

He wore a faded old coat and had an ordinary face that was hard to remember.

He doesn't need a lead singer or harmonies.

He himself is the embodiment of lead singer, harmony singer, and final note singer.

"That's the core anchor point." Mrs. McNeil gripped the moonstone pendant tightly.

"All those previous response teams were paving the way for him."

"Who sent him?" the second team leader asked.

"I don't know," Mrs. McNeil shook her head. "It's not important right now."

"There's only one important thing... don't let him get to that point."

Richard stood in the innermost circle, watching the responder walk towards the pit's core.

In his mind, reasoning was rapidly piecing together fragments.

Reverse infiltration, as named, the Fog Shadow Riot is revealed, and the response group sacrifices one group at a time.

But what force sent this responding head into the unresponsive pit, which was tightly sealed by nine stone rings?

What force is adding fuel to the fire for that name at the bottom of the pit?

Just as Richard was pondering, the jade brooch on Mrs. McNeil's chest began to vibrate again, this time with unusual intensity.

The medium's expression changed: "There's trouble in the western suburban mining area..."

At the same moment, Lieutenant Colonel Odd also discerned the source of that trend.

"A massive amount of 'response' sounds are pouring down from the ground," the lieutenant colonel gritted his teeth. "Thousands of people are shouting at the same time."

Through Mrs. McNeil's voice projected from the spirit world, everyone in the cave understood what was happening outside.

On the surface, several coal mines in the western suburbs have started strikes today.

The coal mine owner is pressuring for lower wages and delaying payment. Last month, a collapse occurred that killed people, and compensation remains unresolved.

Strikes are commonplace.

But among the crowd, some "deliberate individuals" were repeatedly leading the chanting of slogans.

They called out names, calling out the names of miners who died in the mines, and the names of the foremen who withheld wages.

One shout after another, thousands of workers joined in the chant.

The strike escalated into an riot with an unusual intensity.

In Richard's mind, the two things finally came together.

The act of shouting in unison is itself a large-scale "response".

The power of thousands of people shouting the same name at the same time, with the same rhythm, is immense.