The Eldritch Files

With the assurance from the person inside the prison transport, he was finally at ease and quickly turned to leave.

When he reached the edge of the temporary containment center, just before a patch of waist-deep weeds, he raised his hand slightly and chanted in a low voice:

"In the name of the Midnight Banshee!"

A deep, hoarse, mysterious voice emerged from his lips, instantly swept away by the gales assailing him from all directions.

It was as if a deep shadow spread out before him, engulfing the vast patch of weeds.

Countless strange and active things seemed to leap and collide within the shadow, letting out excited, eerie shrieks. The Drunkard took a step into this darkness, and his entire figure vanished on the spot.

He seemed to be passing through an unreal world. Or perhaps, it was more like a lake.

Except this lake existed parallel to the real world.

He moved through the black water of the lake, chasing a trace of blood. When the scent grew stronger and clearer, he surfaced from the lake, emerging at a three-way fork on a highway.

It was pitch-black all around. Only a few dying flames illuminated the carnage that covered the ground.

What he saw was a scene straight out of a nightmare.

Corpses, vehicles, machinery.

Everything was twisted and ruined, scattered in pieces everywhere. There was even flesh and blood crushed into a paste on the asphalt. Faces, already cold and hard, were frozen with the fear and despair of their final moments.

’Dead. They’re all dead!’

In that instant, even a man as hard-hearted as the Drunkard felt his body tremble uncontrollably.

Even though he’d had an ominous feeling when he received the report, he had never imagined this.

’Every single one of them is dead!’

’Forty or fifty men, all just to intercept a single, measly Investigator... and now they’re all dead here?’

"Wandering Spirit’s Return!"

He clenched his jaw, chanted a Secret Spell in a low voice, and slowly raised his palm.

He used all his strength, trying to awaken the residual Spiritual Power of these men to ask them what had happened.

But in the end, he tried three times and still failed.

Seeing their gruesome state, he couldn’t help but recall the men who had pursued their target out of the city after the party at Dingxiang Mansion. They too had died abruptly, leaving no clues. The case was a complete dead end.

’But this time is different. Last time, it was just a few inconsequential outsiders. This time... these were all people registered with the Disaster Management Bureau...’

’The situation has spiraled out of control far beyond what I imagined.’

’Too many people died. There’s no covering this up. Even if that file isn’t exposed early, someone will eventually discover these men were acting on my orders. It will affect my promotion, or lead to even more terrifying consequences...’

’But none of that matters anymore.’

He suddenly clenched his teeth. He raised his palm, then slowly pressed it down.

As he chanted a strange and obscure Spell, a massive black shadow appeared, covering a radius of several hundred meters.

He had summoned that "black lake." All the corpses, firearms, broken vehicles—every physical object—began to sink into it.

When the lake’s water had devoured everything, the surroundings were completely clean.

As if nothing had ever happened.

After doing all this, his body was filled with a bizarre power.

Even his eyes had turned completely black.

He slowly raised his right hand and gradually clenched it into a fist. The next moment, a mysterious and sinister power was stirred.

It was as if an eye had opened high in the sky, looking down upon the physical world, scanning every corner of the surrounding area.

The speed was incredible. In less than ten seconds, the Drunkard had already used that "eye" in the sky to spot Han Su, ten kilometers away, riding a motorcycle and speeding toward Qinggang City.

"Do you really think all this sneaking around will do you any good?"

"Do you really think you have a chance of bringing that file back to Qinggang?"

The Drunkard could hardly believe such a venomous sound had come from his own mouth.

But he had never hated someone so intensely. He bit through the palm of his hand and clenched his fist, letting his blood begin to drip.

As his blood touched the ground, the surrounding shadows came alive. They grew thick as ink and swelled in size, as if possessing a life of their own. They quickly converged on him and began to climb, starting from his feet and struggling up his legs toward his waist.

By the time the mass of shadows had gathered around his lower body, a flash of pain crossed the Drunkard’s face.

But he still gritted his teeth, allowing the shadows to consume his entire body.

With only his head left exposed, a cold glint appeared in his eyes.

"Mr. Jack the Ripper, it’s time for you to act!"

"..."

"..."

In Zone B’s containment center, a low laugh suddenly came from the vehicle holding D7. Then, the door of the prison transport, which had been parked quietly to the side, slowly opened.

From inside the prison transport, a man in shackles slowly walked out.

He slowly stretched, seeming very interested in what was about to happen.

In the current scene, however, there was one other person he found just barely worth a glance.

So, his gaze traveled several hundred meters to where the black notebook was being sealed. The corner of his mouth twitched slightly.

This passed for a polite smile.

"Hm?"

Beside the black notebook, Rong Qiyue sat on a folding chair, watching with satisfaction the three Investigators before him. Despite their considerable power, they were obediently trapped here.

Three to block, one to seal. With the Drunkard’s departure, the remaining Investigators were extremely anxious, yet helpless. Just then, they heard Green Hat ask in a low voice, "Why on earth are you doing this?"

Rong Qiyue was taken aback for a moment, then looked at him. "Oh?"

Green Hat’s palm was still hovering over the black notebook, unable to pull away, but his voice was laced with simmering anger:

"So, the so-called S-Class threat, the Mother Divine Tree... it was all a lie, wasn’t it?"

"This threat isn’t nearly as severe as you claimed!"

"..."

"You’re only just now figuring that out?"

Rong Qiyue couldn’t help but laugh. "But I can vouch for my professional assessment. This does indeed originate from the Mother Divine Tree. And, given enough time for the contamination to grow, it could certainly develop into an A Level threat, or even S-Class, couldn’t it?"

Green Hat hissed, "Nonsense! The key is, how long would that take?"

"Not that long..."

Rong Qiyue cleaned his ear and said, "If we cultivate it carefully, this contamination will become S-Class in, oh, about three years."

Hearing this, not only Green Hat, but Red Windbreaker and Night Lamp’s expressions also turned exceptionally grim.

’Three years?’

’You could pop out two kids in that time, for fuck’s sake! Never mind a Mother Divine Tree!’

Rong Qiyue spoke at just the right moment. "But don’t get too worked up. While it was a fake-out at first, you’ve already started the sealing process. If you’re not careful, this thing will devour all of your Spiritual Power. Then, it really will be A Level."

"You..."

Green Hat didn’t dare let his guard down. Red Windbreaker and Night Lamp were also on high alert, their expressions a mask of indescribable rage. "Why would you do this?"

"It’s simple..."

Rong Qiyue slowly sat back down in his folding chair. He admired the sight of the three great Investigators pinned down by a single notebook, furious yet afraid to make a move. He smiled. "Because I felt like it?"

’He had managed to trap these three without a fight, leaving them unable to move or escape.’

Rong Qiyue could only marvel to himself, ’I really am a genius.’

’The Ancient Castle’s standing must be incredibly high. Considering I forgot I was even kidnapped, and my grandfather didn’t notice a thing, perhaps the Ancient Castle even has the power to rewrite the world...’

’Big Brother said I was the fourth one to be rescued. Does that mean there were three members before me?’

’No, that’s not right. The one with the mushroom cut was already executed. So there are only two?’

’In any case, every team needs a bad guy. Grandpa said I just need to play the part of a villain, and then whatever I do will be easy for others to understand. This time, my performance must have left a deep impression on Big Brother, right?’

"..."

The more he thought about it, the more satisfied he became. A wicked expression he had practiced in the mirror habitually appeared on his face. But just then, his scalp suddenly tingled.

His gaze had just swept over inadvertently, and he thought he saw a familiar look. His expression instantly started to crumble.

’Who was that?’

He rubbed his eyes hard and peered across the several hundred meters toward a prison transport near the infected containment center. It was completely empty; there wasn’t even a shadow.

But Rong Qiyue’s hand began to tremble uncontrollably.

’Was I seeing things?’

’That guy from the memory I just recalled... the one who was like a demon... wasn’t he already executed?’

...

...

In the waist-deep weeds, the hairs on Han Su’s body suddenly stood on end. He felt as if he were being watched. He knew what was happening, so he simply stopped trying to escape.

He turned the handlebars, stopping in a flat area where the weeds were shorter. Then, one by one, he began to pick the cockleburs off his pants.

In the surrounding night, there seemed to be many furtive sounds. The darkness grew thick, like a rising tide.

"Still running?"

When the hate-filled, teeth-gritting voice sounded from nearby, Han Su turned his head.

He saw a large patch of shadow writhing there. A human figure was growing out of it. As it approached, its form grew taller, as if walking out of a damp lake, its face just as drenched and cold.

The Drunkard Investigator.

When Han Su saw him approach, a genuine, expectant smile spread across his face.

But the Drunkard’s eyes, as he looked at Han Su, held only unspeakable rage. "Anything left to say?"

Facing his anger, Han Su had nothing to say. He just slowly lifted his briefcase and smiled. "The item is in my hands. What else do I need to say?"

The Drunkard’s expression turned cold, his fury rapidly receding. His gaze was grim as he said in a low voice, "I can’t be bothered to ask what scheme Zhang Chiguo is plotting this time, nor do I care to lecture you on how much trouble you’ve caused tonight. I just want to tell you one thing!"

"You will not bring that file back to Qinggang!"

"..."

"If my only goal was to get this file back to Qinggang, then I would have already succeeded."

Han Su swung his leg off the motorcycle and placed his briefcase on the handlebars, his smile sincere.

"But after all my work tonight... I was waiting for you, Mr. Drunkard!"

"..."

"You?"

He said this so casually that the Drunkard Investigator subconsciously took a step back.

But after just that one step, his body tensed. He suddenly realized the sound of the wind had weakened, as if something were blocking the gales that swept across the wilderness.

His body tensed slightly as he turned his head. Behind him, another figure had appeared. It was a woman wearing a cat-face mask and extremely baggy clothes, though she still appeared to have a slender figure.

She walked forward slowly, and behind her, fine glass-like crystals materialized in the air.

From the outside, it was as if a giant mirror had appeared in the wilderness, concealing them like a Magic trick.

The Drunkard naturally understood what this meant, but he couldn’t comprehend it. He even felt the urge to laugh bitterly.

"Was all this really necessary?"

"..."

"There’s always a price for profiting from the deaths of others, Mr. Drunkard."

Han Su calmly looked up at him and said softly, "And now, I’ve come to collect."

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