Chapter 31#
Jeremiel#
Ye Sheng finally understood what the category labels in the search result pages meant.
His phone’s treacherous little red eye was, as he had suspected, an aberrant. And the only aberrant he had encountered so far that didn’t belong to the Story King’s sector.
The big eye came from the ENIAC sector.
If Sector Seven was urban bizarre, and Sector Four was digital spirits, then what were Sectors Six and Five?
Ye Sheng was thinking it over and simply asked outright: “Director Cheng, have you found anything else? Seven sectors — and only two administrators have names so far?”
Cheng Ze only smiled at his fearless questioning. “That’s right. We only know the names of those two administrators. The others we’ve had one or two run-ins with at most. The administrator of Sector Six appeared recently in Jerusalem — it caused dozens of believers near the Temple Mount to spontaneously combust from the soul outward. If I were to classify it, I think the keyword for Sector Six’s aberrants would be faith.”
Ye Sheng tilted his head. “Faith?”
Cheng Ze nodded. “Faith. The two times we’ve encountered the Sector Six administrator, it’s been in places with extremely strong religious atmospheres — once in Mecca, once in Jerusalem. Reports from headquarters also note that the Sector Six administrator once appeared in Bodh Gaya, India. Bodh Gaya is where Buddhism originated.”
Ye Sheng raised an eyebrow.
Cheng Ze continued: “At first we thought it was a fanatical religious extremist. Then we realized the Sector Six administrator doesn’t follow any faith at all. From Mecca to Jerusalem to Bodh Gaya — Islam, Christianity, Buddhism — it’s left dead ‘believers’ in all of them. After several rounds of discussion and reviewing the aberrant cases we’ve handled, the Bureau has come to believe that the aberrants of Sector Six may represent a kind of ideology. Religion, folk belief, faith — that sort of thing. The gods and spirits come after the belief.”
Ye Sheng kept his eyes on the road ahead and said nothing.
His memory was excellent.
The moment Cheng Ze said the word religion, he thought of the red talisman the old man had given him — the one meant to save his life.
The blood-red talisman that had helped him suppress the Class A womb-girl inside Car 44.
Across it, in wild, sweeping strokes, was a single signature: Missionary.
The instant blood-coloured flames had licked at those three characters, a flash of pale blue light erupted, and the air filled with a lingering floral fragrance — as though he stood inside a heavenly temple, breathing in the sanctified and eerie scent of lotus blossoms.
Even then, he had thought: that incense is wrong. Too wrong.
Looking back now, the talisman’s origins were almost certainly extraordinary. It may well have come from Sector Six.
So — who exactly was the old man?
Every single thing he had left behind came from the Bizarre Empire.
Ye Sheng suppressed the shock rising in him and asked quietly: “What about Sector Five?”
Information about the Forum was top-level classified within the Bureau — not the kind of thing normally discussed with a child under eighteen. But Ye Sheng was currently under everyone’s close watch, and for the sake of smooth cooperation down the line, Cheng Ze answered every question honestly, sharing everything she knew. “The Sector Five administrator is very mysterious. The only time we made contact was at the deepest ocean trench in the world — the Mariana Trench. But it left nothing behind.”
“And Sector Three?”
Cheng Ze’s expression grew heavy and complicated. “Above Sector Three is the Divine Forbidden Zone.”
“Forbidden Zone?”
“Yes. The top three sectors — we have never received a single piece of information about them. That’s why we call them the Forbidden Zone. Though today there was a major breakthrough. The video Yuanchun showed you at the hotel — it was something Turing captured while infiltrating the aberrant forum.”
Cheng Ze had finally reached this point in the conversation. Her voice was tight as she spoke: “It was a wanted notice. Issued from the Divine Forbidden Zone.”
Ye Sheng: “…”
Ye Sheng: “A wanted notice?”
What? He was being hunted?!
“Yes. We don’t know which of the top three administrators issued it. But the video is now posted across the entire forum — your face and Ning Weichen’s have been seen by every aberrant there is. You’re going to face no small amount of trouble going forward.”
“…”
Hearing this, Ye Sheng was struck by a sudden feeling that everything had been fated long before this moment. Even if he’d never opened his grandmother’s box — even if he’d never decided to go looking for the truth. From the moment he boarded Train 1444 out of Yinshan, his life had probably been irrevocably set off the course of an ordinary person.
Cheng Ze said: “Ning Weichen is the Ning family heir. We’re not particularly concerned about his safety. It’s you we’re worried about.”
Ye Sheng: “They’ll come looking for me?”
“They will. But don’t worry — headquarters has already designated Huai City as the primary inspection zone for the Tianji system. The moment any high-ranking aberrant approaches, we’ll be on full alert. At the same time, headquarters will assign additional personnel to the area as the situation develops.”
Ye Sheng: “…”
“Ye Sheng,” Cheng Ze said, “have you considered joining us?”
Ye Sheng said nothing.
“If you’re a born ability-user, joining us is the best path forward.”
Ye Sheng turned the question around. “And if I’m not an ability-user?”
Cheng Ze paused, as though she hadn’t considered that possibility.
The car pulled up to the Bureau of Unnatural Affairs headquarters in Huai City.
Ye Sheng had no interest in taking in the exterior. The moment he stepped inside, Cheng Fa led him toward a room without delay.
Cheng Ze said: “Take him to get his aptitude checked first.”
Cheng Fa: “Yes.”
Checking aptitude meant checking for abilities. Once Cheng Fa brought Ye Sheng inside, the door was quietly pulled shut behind them.
In the room was a machine that had already been running, and a silver-white reclining chair positioned in front of him.
Seated before a large blue screen was a petite young woman. Dark hair falling to her waist, glasses, white lab coat — she gave Ye Sheng a complicated look and said: “Lie down.”
Ye Sheng thought Cheng Ze was wasting her time. In all the years he’d survived, the only remarkable thing about him — besides being unlucky enough to see ghosts — was that he’d never felt anything out of the ordinary compared to normal people.
Based on his conversation with Cheng Ze, he was also fairly certain he didn’t fit any of the three categories of innate ability-users.
His body hadn’t physically evolved to give him eagle-eyed vision, extraordinary hearing, or speed and strength beyond human limits. He hadn’t awakened any supernatural powers either — no control over fire or earth, no invisibility, no passing through walls.
And the rare functional awakeners were even further out: he couldn’t read minds, couldn’t prophesy, couldn’t purify or heal.
Ye Sheng lay down. His head, hands, and feet were fixed in place by specialized equipment, and a faint current passed from the machinery into his skin. It stung — but so faintly it was almost ignorable.
As he closed his eyes, he calmly analyzed everything that was happening around him.
He understood what Cheng Ze had brought him here for. She’d said it from the very start: “for us, this is an opportunity.”
An opportunity to flush something out and investigate the Bizarre Empire thoroughly.
With him as the bait.
If they were genuinely worried about his safety, the Bureau would have taken him to headquarters to keep him protected. But it was obvious that wasn’t what they intended.
Cheng Ze’s openness about the Forum, and her initiative in inviting him to join the Bureau — it was all almost certainly aimed at securing his cooperation later.
Ye Sheng thought Director Cheng was wonderfully kind and considerate, very attentive to his feelings.
He was just an ordinary male university student. He’d been targeted by aberrants. Whether he wanted to cooperate or not, he’d have to cooperate.
He drifted through these thoughts for half an hour. Then the current faded from his body and the metal restraints released.
Ye Sheng sat up slowly. “Can I go?”
The woman examining the brain scan on her screen was visibly startled by the results, and nodded absently. “Yes, go ahead.”
Ye Sheng said a polite “thank you,” stepped out, and found Cheng Fa still waiting in the corridor.
Unlike the cold indifference of their first meeting, Cheng Fa’s manner toward Ye Sheng now was distinctly odd.
Cheng Fa said, stiffly: “Come on. My sister’s waiting for you upstairs.”
By the time Ye Sheng took the lift up to the director’s office, Cheng Ze had just ended a call with her supervisor. She turned away from the floor-to-ceiling window, phone in hand, and smiled when she saw him.
“How did it go?”
Ye Sheng said nothing, because he didn’t know the results himself.
Cheng Fa spoke instead, his voice carefully neutral: “Sis — he’s not an ability-user.”
Cheng Ze’s eyes went wide. The result was entirely what Ye Sheng had expected, but Cheng Ze seemed to be struggling to accept it.
She stood motionless for a long moment, until Cheng Fa said her name again. She came back to herself, waved him off, and he nodded and left, pulling the door shut behind him. The room held only Ye Sheng and Cheng Ze.
“Sit down first.”
Ye Sheng could tell this conversation wasn’t going to be quick. He nodded and found a seat.
Cheng Ze sat across from him and slid a cup of water his way. “Ye Sheng, what are you planning to do?”
Perhaps because of his grandmother, Ye Sheng always had a little more patience with older women who clearly meant him well. A little more — not much. He didn’t particularly enjoy dealing with people. He pressed his lips together. He didn’t want to waste time here. His tone was flat and direct.
“Isn’t it more a question of what you want me to do?”
Cheng Ze looked at him with surprise, then gave a rueful smile. “You really are perceptive. Headquarters told me to reassure you first, keep things flexible.”
She went on: “High-ranking aberrants face considerable restrictions — they won’t reach Huai City that quickly. Headquarters says you should act as though you know nothing, go to class, live normally. If anything unusual comes up, notify us, and we’ll protect you from the shadows.”
Ye Sheng’s clear black-and-white eyes were steady. “Will you be monitoring me?”
Cheng Ze faltered.
“I don’t want to live under the Bureau’s surveillance.”
Cheng Ze’s lips went pale. She said nothing.
Headquarters’ intention was to use Ye Sheng as bait. And a piece of bait can’t be expected to have privacy. The orders from above were also stark: if Ye Sheng was unwilling, make him willing.
Cheng Ze took a slow breath and said gently: “We monitor you to protect you.”
Ye Sheng looked down at the water in his cup and didn’t answer.
He’d formed a clear understanding of the Bureau of Unnatural Affairs back at Huai City North Station. It wasn’t a national institution — it was a world organization. It operated by its own rules, and those rules did not particularly prioritize human rights. Ye Sheng had no doubt that if sacrificing one person could unlock the door to the Bizarre Empire, the Bureau would do it without hesitation.
But he couldn’t let the Bureau know his secrets.
He’d just swallowed the womb-girl. His phone carried search, installed by the old man. He’d burned the Missionary’s red talisman on the train. He could use the corpse-sewing needle to create aberrants, to borrow their power.
If any of that came to light.
On top of the Bizarre Empire’s wanted notice, he might also end up on the Bureau’s.
“…”
He wasn’t even sure, at this point, whether he was still fully human.
He was caught in the middle, and he had to be wary of both sides.
Ye Sheng took a sip of water, his gaze dark and complicated.
Cheng Ze mistook it for fear, and offered reassurance: “Don’t worry. Our surveillance won’t affect your normal social life. Sweetheart — nothing matters more than your life, does it?”
Ye Sheng said quietly: “Director Cheng, may I ask one last question?”
Cheng Ze hadn’t expected him to change the subject. “Hm? Go ahead.”
Ye Sheng: “The forum — does it have a name?”
Cheng Ze furrowed her brow and thought carefully. “A name? I think so, yes — Turing mentioned it. The forum’s name is… Remiel!” She gave a firm nod. “Yes — Remiel. The name of the fallen angel in the Book of Enoch, the one who escorts human souls to their final judgment. Also known as Jeremiel.”
She added: “The name Jeremiel means the mercy of God.”
Thud.
Ye Sheng set down his cup sharply, feeling his heart sink steadily into an ice-cold abyss — while every crashing wave of feeling behind his eyes remained hidden behind the stark black-and-white of his irises.
Perfectly calm. Not a ripple.
Cheng Ze: “Is something wrong?”
Ye Sheng slowly closed his eyes, then opened them again.
“Nothing.”
“Director Cheng,” Ye Sheng said, “I agree.”
In truth, he’d never had the choice of agreeing or refusing — not from the very beginning.
But still, Ye Sheng spoke quietly, his gaze settling deep: “I’ll cooperate with your plan and draw the aberrants out. But for my own safety, I need you to tell me everything you find — especially anything related to the forum that’s put a price on my head.”
He was confident he could conceal his secrets from the Bureau in day-to-day life. What mattered now, above everything, was that he had to find out everything there was to know about that forum.
Cheng Ze hadn’t expected him to agree so quickly. She exhaled quietly in relief and smiled. “Of course. Our surveillance will stay hidden — it won’t affect your daily life at university. I promise.”
And the moment those words left her mouth, the office door was pulled open.
Butler Li held the handle, stepping back to make way.
Ning Weichen stood behind him, a quiet laugh in his voice as he raised his head and let his gaze — languid, loaded with something just beneath warmth — drift across the room.
“Surveillance?” he said, his tone unhurried. “Director Cheng — what exactly are you planning to do to my fiancé?”