Unexpected Explanations and Unsettling Discoveries

“…..The preliminary assessment of this incident indicates a ground collapse. A total of eighteen individuals were affected: seventeen ordinary citizens and one rescue team member. All are currently unconscious, and medical examinations reveal no abnormalities in their physical condition…”

Villy recited the newly released announcement verbatim, the phone screen’s light casting a harsh glare across her face in the darkened bedroom.

‘It’s so bright, ugh…’

Abruptly exposed to the intense light, Liu Yu’s tears streamed down her face uncontrollably. She fumbled with the blanket, wiping her eyes, only for Villy to pull her closer, forcing her to stare at the phone.

“Don’t you find it strange? You clearly struck them with such force back then, yet the Regulatory Bureau’s explanation states they have no physical abnormalities?”

“Strange, very strange indeed.”

Liu Yu offered a perfunctory reply, her face devoid of expression, then resumed struggling against the arm pinning her down.

“Exactly, even you find it odd. The Regulatory Bureau can’t possibly think they can fool that many citizens. One or two lucky individuals might be dismissed as fortunate, but for over a dozen people to fall into a pit with no reported casualties or injuries? Who would believe that?”

“Still, this style of concealing the truth from the public truly aligns with their usual modus operandi; it’s always so nauseating. And the ‘Quarantine Island’ incident from ages ago remains shrouded in mystery…”

Villy’s thoughts had evidently strayed far afield, her voice growing increasingly agitated. Her indignant demeanor made Liu Yu suddenly envision a middle-aged man at a banquet, holding forth with grand pronouncements the moment politics or the system were mentioned.

‘However, considering her actions—charging headfirst into a transaction site alone to take photos—she might be considered an active keyboard warrior, wouldn’t she?’

‘Can an active keyboard warrior still be called a keyboard warrior?’

Unaware that Liu Yu was secretly critiquing her.

The black-haired girl’s incessant chatter continued, her monotonous lecture, focused solely on venting emotional opinions, left the gray-haired girl feeling utterly drowsy, yawning several times in quick succession.

“Oh, right!”

Caught up in her own words, Villy slapped Liu Yu on the chest. The strange sensation jolted the drowsy girl awake, and she glared at the black-haired girl who was speaking to herself.

“Since the Regulatory Bureau has already released the announcement, Yao Jing should have finished handling things. We can just ask him for the results, right? What are you… doing?”

Unbeknownst to Villy, Liu Yu had wrapped her arms tightly around Villy’s, which were now perfectly nestled between her two ample breasts, the occasional contact causing Villy to blush fiercely once more.

“I usually have to hug something to sleep, otherwise, I can’t fall asleep.”

Liu Yu fabricated the excuse with a straight face, deciding to preemptively control her ‘opponent’s’ movements to prevent another surprise attack.

“Is… that so?”

It was clearly a lie, but only a fool would expose such a freely offered ‘benefit.’ Enjoying this enviable physical proximity, Villy learned to type with one hand, a mixture of pain and pleasure on her face.

****

In the hospital corridor.

“Are you saying they’re all… perfectly healthy??”

Yao Jing felt as though he had stepped into a comedic cartoon, where a person could be gravely injured or even die on the spot, only to be bouncing around alive in the next scene.

He had already found it highly abnormal when the rescue team pulled those hooligans out of the deep pit completely unharmed, and now the doctor was telling him they were in perfect health…

“Could the equipment be malfunctioning…?” Yao Jing asked.

“We’ve tested them three times, and all the data is consistent.”

The doctor, clad in a white coat, clarified Yao Jing’s confusion, his expression equally troubled. “Not only their physical bodies, but their mental states also show no trace of having been controlled.”

Every contact leaves a trace.

Throughout history, ‘spirit’ has always been a central theme for major religions.

To gather followers, they compiled religious texts, claiming that by practicing specific methods or dedicating fervent faith, one could transcend the shackles of the physical body, liberate the mind, reach the domain of the primordial gods, acquire a unique ‘will,’ and thereby rise above the cycles of birth, aging, sickness, and death, achieving boundless freedom.

Such rhetoric was particularly prevalent around the Great Migration, as ordinary people, under the oppression of the Blackblood species, inevitably sought suitable spiritual anchors to survive. Some chose heroes, while others placed their faith in those ethereal beings.

Later, with the emergence and activity of various heroes, these long-standing traditions crumbled. Compared to the gods truly present in the world, the clay idols they worshipped seemed utterly laughable.

It was far more practical to seek help from the heroes at the Association than to pray to gods and Buddhas.

However, even though the religious revival lasted only a short time, the legacy they left behind became the cornerstone of humanity’s research into the mind and spirit.

To combat the Blackblood species capable of mental interference, the Regulatory Bureau, with the Association’s assistance, developed unique techniques for mental intervention through the study of various ancient texts. These techniques were collectively categorized as ‘Psionic Power’ and became a mandatory course for all Hunters.

Highly skilled Hunters could even stimulate the body’s potential through Psionic Power, unleashing several times their normal strength in a short period.

Of course, for the Blackblood species, even a several-hundred-fold increase in strength was merely like dealing with a slightly larger ant. With the widespread adoption of military gear significantly bolstering humanity’s combat power, Psionic Power was primarily used to stabilize one’s mental state and maintain self-control in battle.

—and to restrain Blackblood species with mental interference capabilities.

The doctor before him was an expert in this field. For him to find no traces of interference meant that…

Yao Jing massaged his forehead. “It truly is a Blackblood, isn’t it? And not just any ordinary one.”

“Precisely. I’ve reviewed the patient files you provided; their condition unequivocally points to mental interference, so…”

Yao Jing waved a hand, signaling the doctor to pause their discussion, then asked, addressing the other end of the corridor, “Miss, are you here to visit a patient at this late hour?”

The doctor followed Yao Jing’s gaze, noticing a girl wearing sunglasses walking toward them.

“H-hello, excuse me, could you tell me where room 608 is?” The woman was clearly nervous, and her timid demeanor reminded Yao Jing of his first encounter with a certain little rascal—equally timid, like a small rabbit. What a shame that child had since grown into an unruly terror.

“It’s the second room on your left after the corner. Remember to knock.” The doctor replied.

“Thank you, thank you.”

After expressing her gratitude, the woman quickly jogged away, disappearing from their sight.

“To continue our earlier discussion, I intend to go to the Bureau and sift through the archives, hoping to uncover some clues. This kind of dangerous entity hiding in Dongchuan is simply too perilous.”

“Perhaps it doesn’t harbor significant ill will towards us.”

“Surely you’re not suggesting it’s ‘friendly’ just because it hasn’t physically harmed anyone?”

Yao Jing clapped the doctor on the shoulder, a look of disdain on his face. “You can’t even guarantee that those lying in the ward are still human, rather than something else entirely.”

“What do you mean by that!?”

“It seems you’ve truly grown too complacent, losing even your basic vigilance. Are incidents of Blackblood species attacking by possessing human bodies truly that rare? If we’re not careful, today might be the last time I see you.”

“Wait, are you implying those patients might be advance scouts for the Blackblood species?”

“I can only say that the possibility cannot be ruled out.”

“Then how dare you keep them here with me? This is a hospital! Do you even realize how many casualties there would be if something truly went wrong?”

The doctor shouted and yelled as if venting his emotions; anyone observing them would surely have mistaken him for a good doctor deeply concerned about his patients’ safety.

However, knowing the man as Yao Jing did, it was less about worrying over casualties and more about his own working environment’s safety. After all, this was a cunning individual who, to avoid the battlefield, had managed to master an extraordinary medical skill in a remarkably short time.

“Don’t worry.”

Yao Jing said casually, “I’ve already arranged for a sufficiently powerful guard in the ward. With her there, even if they truly are Blackblood species, she can hold them off for a while.”

‘At least lower-tier species shouldn’t be a problem.’

Upon hearing Yao Jing’s explanation, the doctor chuckled, his earlier displeasure instantly vanishing. He slung an arm around Yao Jing’s shoulder and praised him, “Just as expected of Old Yao! Always planning three steps ahead for every one you take. Truly, only you can put my mind completely at ease.”

‘Flattery after initial apprehension—it was truly laughable to think about.’

Yao Jing grumbled inwardly. To fit in, he too slung an arm around the doctor’s shoulder, and they exchanged mutual praises, the two grown men giggling foolishly in the quiet corridor.

“Ah—”

Until a distinct female scream pierced the air.

Instantly, both men exchanged bewildered glances.

‘Didn’t you say you’d arranged for an absolutely formidable defense?’

Yao Jing read the unspoken question in the other’s eyes and, without hesitation, yelled, “Stop standing around! Go save them!”

“Wait, why should I go?”