Dream Ghost

After training, Lin Ye did not leave headquarters. He had a simple dinner in the cafeteria, then returned to the room next to the medical room, sat on the bed, and turned on his phone.

Fang Qing updates her WeChat Moments every three days, posting nothing but everyday things—what she ate for lunch, cats on the street, windowsills on rainy days. Nothing seems out of the ordinary. But Lin Ye knows that the hands in those photos aren't human hands, and the shapes in those shadows aren't human shadows. Everything she posts is real; it's just that the person posting these things isn't human.

Lin Ye turned off his phone and closed his eyes.

He tried to extend his perception to sense the distribution of consciousness throughout the association headquarters. The consciousness of over two hundred people emerged in his perception, like a star map. Most were warm, fluid, and active. But seven were cold, frozen, and still. They were scattered in different locations: some were working overtime in the office area, some were having late-night snacks in the cafeteria, and some were watching TV in the lounge. They looked like normal people, but Lin Ye knew they weren't.

He memorized the location of each one.

The next morning, Lin Ye went to the technical analysis room.

Zhou Zhou was already at his workstation, with three screens lit up simultaneously in front of him, displaying various data charts that Lin Ye couldn't understand. He saw Lin Ye and adjusted his glasses.

"Why are you here?"

"I want to look something up." Lin Ye pulled up a chair and sat down. "Can you find the association's hiring records?"

"Yes, but you need authorization." Zhou Zhou looked at him. "Who do you want to investigate?"

Lin Ye hesitated for a moment. Chen Xuan had said they shouldn't alert the enemy, but Zhou Zhou was a technical analyst, not a field agent, and wasn't on the list of the seven moles. Besides, he was someone Chen Xuan trusted.

"Fang Qing," Lin Ye said.

Zhou Zhou tapped a few times on the keyboard, and the screen switched to the personnel file interface.

"Fang Qing joined the company three years ago as a clerk in the logistics department. Her background check was fine, and her recommender is—" He paused, "...the vice president."

Lin Ye's fingers tightened slightly.

"Did the vice president recommend her?"

"Yes. The vice president's recommendation letter went directly through the personnel review without an interview." Zhou Zhou turned to the next page. "Her work performance has always been excellent, with consistently outstanding annual evaluations. There's nothing unusual about it."

"Thanks."

Lin Ye stood up and walked out of the technical analysis room.

Vice President.

That man in his fifties, dressed in a suit and tie, with a seemingly gentle demeanor. Chen Xuan had said that the vice president was a radical, advocating for capturing dream creatures rather than eliminating them. But radicals and the Dream Weaver Society were two different things.

is it?

Lin Ye walked into the corridor and headed towards the vice president's office.

The office was located at the deepest part of the headquarters, with a dark brown solid wood door bearing a bronze plaque that read "Vice President, East China Branch." Lin Ye stood at the doorway, his senses extending through the door panel to scan the consciousness structure within.

normal.

The vice president's consciousness structure is warm and fluid, no different from that of a normal person.

But there was another person with him.

Fang Qing.

Lin Ye's perception locked onto her consciousness structure—cold, frozen, not human. She stood in front of the vice president's desk, holding a document, reporting something. The vice president's consciousness fluctuations were stable, without any abnormalities.

Lin Ye withdrew his senses and turned to leave.

He had no evidence to prove that the vice president had any connection with the Dreamweaver Association. Fang Qing was someone he had recommended, but that could just be a coincidence. It was common for the association to recommend new members; the vice president had recommended many people, and Fang Qing was just one of them.

But a voice in Lin Ye's heart said: It's not a coincidence.

He went to find Chen Xuan.

A table had been added to Chen Xuan's hospital room, piled high with documents. He sat at the table, pen in hand, scribbling on a piece of paper. Seeing Lin Ye enter, he put down his pen.

"What did you find out?"

"Fang Qing was recommended by the vice president," Lin Ye said. "The vice president himself is normal, but Fang Qing is in his office."

Chen Xuan remained silent for a few seconds.

"I don't know the vice president very well. He was transferred from headquarters five years ago. He's always been very steady in his work, and you can't tell anything from his appearance." He paused for a moment, "But you reminded me. The radicals advocate capturing dream creatures, while the Dream Weavers are precisely 'creating' dream creatures. There's a very fine line between these two positions."

"Do you think the vice president is a member of the Dream Weaver Society?"

"I'm not sure," Chen Xuan said. "But he has people from the Dream Weaver Society around him, so it's impossible for him to be completely unaware of this. Either he's an inside man, or he's been used."

"How do I confirm?"

Chen Xuan thought for a while.

"I need you to do something for me."

"What is it?"

"Tonight, the vice president has an online meeting to discuss next year's budget with headquarters. His office will be empty during the meeting." Chen Xuan took a key from his drawer. "This is a master key; it can open all the doors at the association headquarters. Go into his office and look for something."

"What is it?"

"There's evidence of his connection to the Dreamweaver Club," Chen Xuan said. "If he's the mole, there would definitely be clues in his office. If he's innocent, we won't harm him."

Lin Ye took the key.

"When?"

"Nine o'clock at night. The meeting will last for one hour, you have one hour."

At nine o'clock in the evening, Lin Ye stood at the door of the vice president's office.

The corridor was empty. At this time, most people had already left work; only the technical analysis room and medical room were still staffed. Lin Ye's senses swept across the entire corridor—nothing unusual.

He stuck the master card on the door lock. The green light came on, and the door opened.

The office wasn't large, but it was very clean. There was a solid wood desk, a genuine leather swivel chair, a row of filing cabinets, and a traditional Chinese ink painting hanging on the wall. The windows were closed, allowing only light in but not opening. There was a faint woody scent in the air, like some kind of expensive perfume.

Lin Ye did not turn on the lights. His senses extended only through his eyes.

He first checked the desk. The drawers were unlocked, and inside were standard office supplies—pens, sticky notes, a stapler, and folders. Nothing seemed amiss.

He inspected the filing cabinet. It was locked, but could be opened with a master card. Inside were rows of folders, arranged by year and category. Lin Ye quickly flipped through a few—all were routine documents from the association, nothing unusual.

He walked to the wall and examined the ink painting.

It was a landscape painting, executed with skillful brushstrokes, and signed with an unfamiliar name. Lin Ye took the painting down; the wall behind it was intact, without any hidden compartments.

He stood in the center of the office, his eyes closed.

Shape perception.

It's not scanning the structure of a person's consciousness, but rather scanning the residual consciousness of "objects." Anything that has been in contact with someone for a long time will leave a faint trace of consciousness. There is a large amount of residual consciousness in the vice president's office—most of it is his, and some belongs to the people who came to the meeting.

Lin Ye carefully examined each remaining trace.

Most of them are quite ordinary—thinking, reading, writing, making phone calls. But one remains, and it's a different color.

It wasn't the vice president. It was someone else's. That person's residual consciousness was cold, frozen, and inhuman.

Fang Qing.

She had been to this office many times. Each time, a trace of her consciousness would linger in the air, like a thin layer of frost. Lin Ye followed that trail of consciousness to the corner of the office.

There is an inconspicuous electrical outlet in the corner.

But the socket was in the wrong position. It was only ten centimeters off the ground, too low. A normal person wouldn't plug in an appliance at that low. Lin Ye squatted down and touched the socket panel with his hand.

The panel is loose.

He pressed it lightly, and the panel popped open.

Behind it wasn't an electrical wire, but a hidden compartment.

There was a black USB drive in the hidden compartment.

Lin Ye picked up the USB drive and put it in his pocket. He put the panel back, stood up, hung the painting back in its place, left the office, and locked the door.

There was no one in the corridor.

He returned to Chen Xuan's hospital room and handed him the USB drive.

Chen Xuan plugged the USB drive into the computer.

There is only one file in the folder, named "Sacrifice List.xlsx".

Chen Xuan opened the file.

Lin Ye stood behind him, looking at the screen.

First line: First sacrifice - Zhao Min - Status complete - Fragments recovered - Consciousness sealed.

Second line: Second sacrifice - Shen Yutong - Status complete - Fragments recovered - Consciousness sealed.

The third line: Third Sacrifice - Lin Ye - Status Awakening - Estimated Harvest Time - The original date has been crossed out, and next to it is written in red "Escaped - Priority Increased - Highest".

Fourth line: Fourth offering - Gu Yan - Status: Offered - Fragments: Stored - Consciousness: Residual - Can be recycled a second time.

Fifth line: Fifth offering - Chen Xuan - Status not yet awakened - Fragments are dormant - Requires external force to activate.

Sixth line: Sixth offering - Name unknown - Status sealed - Fragments recovered.

Seventh line: Seventh offering - Name unknown - Status sealed - Fragments recovered.

At the very bottom of the list, there is a line of smaller print:

"East China Branch - List of Internal Moles - Seven People in Total - See Attached Table for Details"

Chen Xuan opened the attached table.

Seven names.

The first one: Fang Qing.

The second to seventh ones completely match the six that Lin Ye discovered.

At the very bottom of the appendix, there is another name:

"Contact Person, Loving Father"

Lin Ye looked at that name.

A loving father. The guardian at the entrance to the third seal of the Dream Continent. The old man who sealed his abilities and made him punch him for three minutes.

He's a member of the Dream Weavers Guild. Furthermore, he has direct contact with the vice president.

"The vice president is the liaison," Chen Xuan said in a deep voice, "not the mole. He's the Dream Weaver's 'informant' within the association. The mole takes orders from him, and he takes orders from the benevolent father."

"What about the vice president himself? Is he a member of the Dream Weaver Society?"

"Judging from this document, he wasn't a core member. He was either bribed or threatened." Chen Xuan pointed to a line of small print at the bottom of the document. "Look here."

Lin Ye leaned closer to the screen.

"Vice President, codename 'Messenger', non-core member, responsible only for information transmission, not involved in operations."

"He was just a messenger," Chen Xuan said. "The real moles were those seven. He was responsible for giving them instructions and then passing the intelligence to the Dream Weaver Society."

Lin Ye remained silent for a few seconds.

"What do we do now?"

Chen Xuan stared at the list on the screen for a long time.

"We can't arrest seven people at once. It would be too big a fuss, the Dream Weavers would find out, and then a new batch of moles would come in, and we'd have to start the investigation all over again," he said. "What we need to do is—use them."

"How can we use it?"

"Give them false information," Chen Xuan said. "Make the Dream Weavers think we're doing A, when in fact we're doing B. When they act according to the false information, we'll be there waiting for them."

Lin Ye looked into Chen Xuan's eyes.

"You're going to use me as bait."

Chen Xuan did not deny it.

"You are their highest priority target," he said. "If you show up somewhere, they will definitely come. We can set up a trap in advance and wait for them to walk right into it."

Lin Ye thought for a moment.

"it is good."

Chen Xuan looked at him.

"Aren't you afraid?"

"I'm afraid," Lin Ye said, "but being afraid is useless."

Chen Xuan patted him on the shoulder.

"I won't let anything happen to you."

Lin Ye nodded and walked out of the ward.

In the corridor, he ran into Fang Qing again.

She walked over from the other end of the corridor, carrying a cup of coffee. Seeing Lin Ye, she smiled, nodded, and stepped aside to let him pass.

Lin Ye nodded and walked past her.

His form perception captured that cold, solidified thing within her. It was slowly wriggling within Fang Qing's consciousness, as if it were breathing.

Lin Ye did not turn around.

He went into his room, closed the door, and sat on the edge of the bed.

He took out his phone and sent a message to Su Wanning:

"Will you be free tomorrow?"

Su Wanning replied almost instantly: "Yes. What's wrong?"

"Come with me somewhere."

"where?"

"The west side of the city. That abandoned crematorium."

Su Wanning was silent for a few seconds, then replied, "Okay. What time?"

"10:00 AM."

"it is good."

Lin Ye put down his phone and lay down on the bed.

Beneath the crematorium lies the Dreamweavers' third processing plant. There are over twenty containers there, each containing a dream creature. If the Dreamweavers want to do something in the real world, those creatures are their weapons.

Lin Ye was going to check if those creatures were still there.

If it's not there, it means that DedeCMS has moved.

If he were there, he had an even bolder idea—

They devoured them all.