Chapter 21: Spirit Level Six

Lou Chen walked through the corridor where the lighting was slightly dim.

Forming an extremely strong contrast with the lights above him were the rooms he passed.

Unlike Old Yu, who, out of the pitifully small amount of respect for the unfortunate former minister who was infected, at least had some cover.

But the other contained monsters were different.

The nearly daylight-bright lamps illuminated the creatures inside the all-glass enclosures.

In this environment, their rotting muscles and wrinkled skin were visible in every detail.

Lou Chen felt as if he were walking through an exhibition hall for a grotesque show.

Along the way, he attracted the attention of these originally lifeless creatures, causing them to turn their heads at this human.

As his footsteps extended, several monsters stopped fiddling with themselves and pressed against the glass, sizing up Lou Chen with their eyeballs, leaving sticky, pus-yellow traces on the glass.

Some of them were rotting, some were melting.

The third floor, specifically used to contain them, was filled with the aura of death.

Even a horror wax museum would be no different.

Just looking at them through the glass was enough to make one’s scalp tingle and one’s sanity slowly decrease.

This was why the first rule in the handbook for every new member of the Supernatural Management Bureau stated: before receiving orders, members below B-level are absolutely not permitted to go to the third floor.

Because many new recruits lacked the corresponding mental fortitude, they could easily be bewitched by the monsters, uncontrollably doing things that were impossible to reverse.

Therefore, the bureau had specifically installed instruments at the stairwell.

Only members above A-level could pass the screening outside of missions, which effectively avoided the occurrence of riots and disturbances.

Just as supernatural creatures had a set of hierarchical divisions, the members of the management bureau also had their corresponding service grades.

The maximum value for Spirit (Inspiration) was 6, with 3 as the dividing line.

Falling below 3 meant heading towards madness, indicating an extremely dangerous state.

Ordinary people were basically stable at 3.

If one was above 3, they qualified for membership—4 for C, 5 for B, 6 for A.

But even people at B-level were not common, so this place became a well-known secret within the bureau.

“…”

Lou Chen’s footsteps towards the stairs suddenly halted.

He slightly lifted his jacket, his hand resting on the weapon at his waist.

At the end of the corridor, there was actually an unfamiliar figure.

The dim light stretched the silhouette of the arriving person, who was wearing a windbreaker, making him look like a long, thin, ghostly shadow.

One hand was in his pocket, the other stretched out, resting on the glass.

His eyes apathetically stared at the fleshy mass separated only by the glass.

The moment Lou Chen stopped, the other seemed to sense his gaze.

Without even moving an eyebrow, he spat out harsh words: “Look any longer and I’ll gouge your eyeballs out.”

It was Yu Ziyu himself, who should have been waiting for him in the first-floor lobby.

Lou Chen selectively ignored his provocation.

He moved his hand away from his waist, his cold, vigilant aura slowly melting away, making him appear very approachable: “Why are you here?”

“Why can’t I be here?”

Hearing this, Yu Ziyu raised an eyebrow.

He withdrew his hand and turned around, indeed seeing Lou Chen quickly walking up to him.

There was an unconscious trace of tension and worry on his face.

After looking Yu Ziyu up and down and finding no signs of mental abnormality, he only then breathed an almost imperceptible sigh of relief.

“No, I was just wondering why you came here.”

Lou Chen rubbed his temples.

This place was too dirty and chaotic, in every sense of the word, completely inconsistent with Yu Ziyu’s aesthetics.

After all, in Lou Chen’s view, this photographer he had only recently met was obviously born into privileged circumstances.

He recognized the brands he wore; they weren’t prices ordinary people could afford, highlighting his aloof pride.

He seemed like the type who fundamentally couldn’t endure hardship.

But seeing him unaffected like this made Lou Chen belatedly realize that one couldn’t judge a person’s strength by their appearance.

Since Yu Ziyu had been chosen as the savior to defeat Pride, he must be powerful to an extent that would astonish players like them.

“What were you doing?”

“I hadn’t done anything yet.”

Yu Ziyu said dissatisfiedly.

So, Lou Chen followed his gaze.

Before he arrived, Yu Ziyu had been looking at the monster inside.

He immediately recognized what it was.

It was the girl who had been forced into becoming a resentful spirit.

The truth had already been exposed by Yu Ziyu, and he had also transferred the list of killers to the police station.

He believed they would handle this matter—after all, living people burdened with sin were not their jurisdiction; they were only responsible for dealing with the monsters and corpses in this world.

And Yu Ziyu had been at the scene.

Perhaps witnessing all this had caused him to waver and feel fragile, leading him to come here.

They should have dealt with this promptly; this would cause Yu Ziyu secondary harm.

“They will pay the price.”

Lou Chen rubbed his fingers, looked away, and said slowly.

“You don’t have to feel guilty.

This isn’t your fault.”

But this considerate reaction only made Yu Ziyu look at him with a strange expression.

He didn’t seem to understand why Lou Chen would say that.

In his eyes, Lou Chen seemed to be deliberately trying to make him laugh.

He sized him up.

It was this expression that told Lou Chen he was about to face a bout of sarcasm.

Lou Chen glanced at Yu Ziyu and chose to remain silent.

“Why should I feel guilty?

The murderers don’t even feel that way,” Yu Ziyu said calmly.

“It’s not like I did something wrong.

Ridiculous.”

Having formulated his plan, he knew he should pretend to be more human.

But Yu Ziyu’s biggest flaw was his laziness when it came to disguising and packaging himself, to cater to others’ preferences and make himself likable.

So, even knowing he should show sadness, he still put on that aloof, keep-people-at-a-distance demeanor.

Lou Chen watched him helplessly: “…”

He wasn’t sure if this photographer’s personality was a good thing or a bad thing.

At the very least, he wouldn’t be morally blackmailed—because this guy simply didn’t care what others thought of him.

He was very self-centered and willful… and therefore… very enviable.

“I think we should go downstairs now.”

He softened his voice, speaking gently yet persistently.

He stood in front of Yu Ziyu, his figure half a head taller, conveniently blocking the view between the flesh mass and the glass.

“But it’s too noisy.”

Yu Ziyu looked at Lou Chen listlessly, pointing at the flesh mass. “She’s been screaming nonstop.

Can’t you guys make the soundproofing here a bit better?

Speaking for myself, you should notify her, make her realize the killers have been brought to justice, eliminate her resentment, and stop her from being like this anymore.”

Hearing this, Lou Chen was stunned, catching the key word: “You can hear screaming?”

He couldn’t hear what the flesh mass was doing, although the fleshy lump behind the glass was indeed agitated.

Lou Chen frowned.

This wasn’t a good thing.

If Yu Ziyu could perceive the thoughts of these evil forces at all times, then just as Old Yu said, his mental breakdown was only a matter of time…

He really shouldn’t let Yu Ziyu bear all this.

“Unfortunately, I don’t want to hear it either.”

Yu Ziyu pointed at his ear, annoyed. “Monsters on every channel?

You know what I mean, right?”

Perhaps because of his looks, this kind of complaining sounded like acting cute.

Or maybe this was why Yu Ziyu was still quite popular… basically, no one could get angry at that face of his.

“I understand.”

Lou Chen said.

He felt he could understand Yu Ziyu’s irritability.

He was the kind of person who, when trying to sleep at night, would be forcibly connected to crime scenes.

That feeling was hard to describe; mentioning it would make people think you were making a big deal out of nothing, but it was indeed easy to find annoying.

“I’ll have someone replace the equipment immediately.”

Lou Chen frowned, placing his hand on Yu Ziyu’s shoulder and gently turning the photographer’s body half a circle. “For now, let’s go downstairs, okay?

Also, if you really find it unbearable, we can postpone the announcement of this matter.”

“If what you said is true, then there are only three days left.”

“Postpone?

I thought three days was already very short.”

“Because your matter is more important.”

After all, there was only one savior.

Having said that, Lou Chen calmly met the strange look Yu Ziyu threw at him.

Fortunately, it seemed he was attracted by this sentence; Yu Ziyu didn’t remove the hand resting on his thin shoulder.

But just as they started walking towards the stairs, Yu Ziyu suddenly reached out.

He curled his fingers, as if about to visit someone, and lazily tapped on the glass of the flesh mass.

The movement was quite elegant and pleasing to the eye.

“Quiet down, miss.”

Yu Ziyu said. “You just heard it too, right?

Someone will avenge you.”

Lou Chen: “…”

Wait, was he talking to a monster that had lost the ability to think?

He immediately looked at the fleshy mass behind the glass.

To his surprise, he saw that it had actually stopped writhing, as if Yu Ziyu’s words had just had an effect…

No, there couldn’t be such a coincidence.

This only showed one thing: Yu Ziyu could indeed communicate with monsters.

This kind of thing had never happened before.

How many secrets was he hiding…

“Snap“—

Lou Chen suddenly snapped back to reality.

Yu Ziyu had just snapped his fingers.

He glanced ambiguously at Lou Chen and quickly walked out, his figure nimbly disappearing into the dark stairwell.

Lou Chen rubbed his temples and helplessly followed.

As soon as he stepped onto the stairs, bright light immediately flooded his eyes.

He squinted, waiting to adapt to the light of the normal floor.

When he opened his eyes again, Vice-Captain Xiao He’s face came into view.

He rubbed his fingers in embarrassment, an ashamed expression on his face as he looked up at Lou Chen.

“Captain, I’m sorry.

I didn’t accompany Teacher Yu.”

Xiao He had gone on a mission a few days ago, causing his spirit level to drop from B to C.

So when Yu Ziyu expressed his desire to go to the third floor, although he followed closely behind him, doing his utmost to dissuade him, he was still blocked outside the moment the other entered the third level.

Speaking of this, he couldn’t help but glance at Yu Ziyu.

He didn’t know if he had missed it just now.

Xiao He had clearly been following Yu Ziyu, but he hadn’t seen him take the dice from the box and roll them…

He had simply walked straight through the restriction, but… was that possible?

Xiao He grew more and more confused.

And the other didn’t spare him a single glance, just stood with hands in his pockets, displaying his classic impatient expression.

This undoubtedly showed he had no interest in answering questions, so he had to suppress his doubts.

“Give me the dice.”

Lou Chen didn’t investigate Xiao He’s dereliction of duty, but said calmly.

“Oh!

Okay, okay——”

Xiao He snapped back to reality and breathed a sigh of relief.

He grabbed the small box placed at the entrance of the third-floor stairwell and handed it to Lou Chen.

Inside was a single die.

It was the device for testing whether one could enter the third floor.

Everyone who wanted to enter had to touch the die and be judged qualified; only then would the third floor open its passage.

Similarly, those wanting to leave must also have their mental state confirmed.

Only when safe would they be granted permission to exit.

This was a dual protection, to prevent disaster from being brought directly to headquarters.

Lou Chen took out the die and casually tossed it.

The die fell to the ground and spun.

Then, after a few seconds of silence, it quickly stopped on the side showing six points—the tested person’s spirit was obviously very stable.

As the captain, he was naturally the rare A-level.

Lou Chen wasn’t surprised by his result at all.

He bent down, picked up the die, and handed it to Yu Ziyu.

For some reason, Yu Ziyu’s eyes flickered.

After a moment of silence, he eventually reached out and took the die, casually throwing it out.

The die hit the floor with a sound, and then began to spin frantically.