Chapter 136

Chapter 156: July 1st, Weather, Overcast.

The room was cold and gloomy. A red-haired girl sat on the edge of the bed, hugging her knees, covered by a blanket, her face buried in them, and she fell asleep like that.

A few minutes later, she seemed to have woken up from a nightmare, lifting her head abruptly. Her toes were already digging into the bedsheet, wrinkling the once neatly laid sheet.

She looked around in confusion, her hair slightly disheveled in front of her forehead.

Soon, her gaze turned cold, as if the momentary confusion and helplessness had never existed.

“System.”

Xia’er called out to the system in her heart and glanced at the time.

It was 6 a.m. in the morning…

Other than the gas pipe leak on the first floor at 4 a.m., there seemed to be no other misfortune…

Without the interference and influence of meeting Tara, the pace should follow what was recorded in the simulation.

But it was uncertain whether the misfortune would cause a reaction from Lucy or Obold, leading to even greater misfortunes.

However, it should be fine… At this time, they probably hadn’t linked the misfortune to the Sealed Object or any other matter.

The more she thought about it, the stronger Xia’er felt the ominous premonition. She shook her head, stopping herself from imagining based on deep-seated fears.

Never had she felt time pass so slowly.

In the simulation, Xia’er went straight to the prison on the 25th to bring out the female thief. But Xia’er decided to contact Tara earlier at midnight, so on the night of the 25th, she spent most of her time at Amy’s house and didn’t have time to carry out the plan.

Moreover, Xia’er had already contacted the tailor in advance to ensure the items could be made faster. After all, there was uncertainty involved.

The female thief would remain in prison; Xia’er adjusted her priorities accordingly.

With other actions now underway, it was time to go to the prison to pick someone up, avoiding further complications.

Xia’er opened the wardrobe, found a cloak that could cover her entire body, and then used two points of Mortality Point to exchange for something from the system store.

A recommendation letter from a police official.

This recommendation letter wasn’t written by Aivana—though she had plenty of such letters, all genuine—and Xia’er directly took one from the police station.

Wearing the cloak, Xia’er put the recommendation letter in a newly bought shoulder bag and stood in front of the mirror to check her appearance.

Her hair was completely covered, and she wore the necklace and bracelet from the Salvation Goddess Religion around her neck and wrists—these were taken from Tara, and she was adept at disguising herself as a member of the religion.

Now, Xia’er looked like any ordinary follower of the Salvation Goddess Religion, and as long as she didn’t reveal her face, no one on the street would pay her any attention.

After all, the Salvation Goddess Religion was the dominant church in the city, and such appearances were common.

Xia’er didn’t really want to get involved with the Salvation Goddess Religion, but to disguise her identity without causing trouble, pretending to be a regular follower was the best option.

Once everything was over, she would naturally donate some money to the Clock Tower Church to make amends to the goddess.

Xia’er walked downstairs and opened the door.

It was 6 a.m., and dawn had yet to break. There were hardly any people on the streets, and occasionally a carriage loaded with building materials or goods would pass by. The coachmen, busy with their livelihoods, wouldn’t notice Xia’er in black attire.

She continued walking towards Borough City Police Station.

About fifteen minutes later, she arrived at the police station entrance.

Even the detectives hadn’t come to work yet, and except for the guard at the entrance and the underground prison, the entire police station was empty.

At the entrance, a night watch detective, who had been dozing against the wall, was slipping down along the wall. Suddenly, a voice woke him up.

“Yes, sir!”

The startled detective quickly stood at attention, his eyes still blurry. He saluted hastily.

When he saw that it was just a short, dark-cloaked figure in front of him, his initial panic turned to anger. Seeing the white hand holding out the recommendation letter, his anger quickly transformed into respect.

An Su, a master of changing expressions.

“Do you need to open it and check?” Xia’er asked.

“Oh, no need, madam,” the guard shook his head and smiled. “Just tell me whom you want to bail out.”

The guards had seen many such recommendation letters. With just a glance at the envelope, he knew the content would be the same as before.

If you tried to verify the authenticity with the superior who wrote the letter, he would think you were disrespectful—after all, he had sent out so many favor letters for money, and he couldn’t remember which one was for whom.

This recommendation letter was essentially a pass that could be bought with money, allowing certain actions within the police station’s jurisdiction—such as bailing out an unimportant prisoner or detaining someone for investigation.

After receiving the letter, the guard straightened his black steel helmet and waited for Xia’er to speak.

“The woman who was arrested for breaking into a home, I need to bail her out.”

Xia’er had forgotten the woman’s name and could only ask by her crime.

“Breaking into a home? A woman?”

Hearing this, the guard immediately understood who she meant.

There weren’t many people in the police station’s prison, as most serious criminals had been transferred to other prisons. Thus, he had a clear impression of who was in custody, especially women.

After all, this woman was a habitual criminal who had previously relied on the Heishuidang to make money. Recently, after the Heishuidang collapsed, she had resumed her old ways of robbery and theft.

“Sorry, madam, I’m afraid I can’t grant your request.”

The guard’s expression was somewhat awkward as he spoke to Xia’er.

“Why?” Xia’er frowned slightly.

In the simulation, Xia’er had brought Russell’s crest, but if possible, she didn’t want to use Aivana’s crest for this matter, as she couldn’t explain where the crest came from.

“She’s already dead,”

The guard shrugged and said, “Just a few hours ago, she scratched her own neck due to a drug overdose. By the time we found her, she was already stiff.”

Dead?

Last night?

The sudden change made Xia’er frown, but she remained calm and asked, “Then where is her body?”

“It’s still in the cell, waiting for someone to collect it… It’s quite inauspicious to leave it here.”

The guard’s expression showed disgust, clearly uncomfortable with the idea of a body dying in the police station.

After all, this was an era where even autopsies were considered crude, and people still harbored superstitions about corpses.

“No need to collect it,”

Xia’er felt a slight relief hearing that the body was still there. “I’ll take her away myself and handle her funeral rites.”

“Oh? Are you a friend of hers? Of course, no problem.”

The guard nodded repeatedly, eager to get rid of the body.

The guard led Xia’er to the underground prison and opened one of the cells. Xia’er saw a simple brown cloth shroud.

The shroud was stained with hardened black blood. Xia’er didn’t hesitate and knelt down, untying the shroud to reveal the woman’s head.

Scratches on her face… Her neck was also scratched, and her face had turned purple… It seemed like she had scratched herself to death from excessive bleeding.

Luckily, she had come early… If she had arrived later, the body might have been buried in a mass grave outside the city.

The damage to her face didn’t matter much since she intended to use skin from other parts anyway… As for the blood on her face, makeup could easily cover it up.

Otherwise, animal blood could be purchased to fill in the gaps. After all, it wasn’t for reviving her, just to give the corpse some color.

Xia’er tightened the cloth bag again and dragged the body out of the police station.

By now, there were people on the streets, and many were looking curiously at Xia’er…

A regular follower wasn’t particularly interesting, but a follower dragging a shroud was quite eye-catching—soon, this scene would likely become the subject of various gossip among the locals to enrich their mundane lives.

Xia’er noticed this issue.

Her current appearance was indeed quite conspicuous.

Realizing this, Xia’er dragged the shroud into a dim alleyway.

The sky was just beginning to turn a murky blue, and there was no sunlight yet. The alleyway remained gloomy.

“No. 4.”

A silver light flashed, and Xia’er’s Mortality Points decreased from 168 to 163.

She directly spent 5 Mortality Points to transform into “Inspector” ahead of time.

Xia’er half-knelt beside the shroud. A strange fleshy-colored spider emerged from the shadow of her cloak, crawling up her clothes to her hand, then jumped onto the shroud, biting through it and entering inside.

In the quiet alleyway, a grating sound, akin to small rodents gnawing on bones, echoed.

Soon, the shroud in front of Xia’er began to twitch.

She reached out, untied the ropes binding the shroud, and opened the bag.

A pale, almost purplish hand, stiff and jerky, emerged from the shroud and pressed against the ground.

Behind her, footsteps approached. Xia’er quickly stood up, turned, and walked toward the alley mouth, brushing past the newcomer.

Behind her, the ancient corpse, now standing in the darkness, held the shroud that had contained it.

Boom —

The man walking into the alleyway collided with the corpse, causing him to stagger. He didn’t seem to notice the person standing next to him and quickly turned, saying, “Excuse me, miss.”

Borrowing the dim morning light at the alley mouth, he could see the outline of the woman’s body, but somehow, he felt her movements were… odd?

But before he could think too much, the woman ignored him, swaying and leaning against the wall, walking toward the alley mouth.

Was she hungover? Strange…

The man scratched his head, seeing the woman didn’t pursue, and continued walking deeper into the alley.

He didn’t notice that his white shirt had already been stained with dried blood from the collision with the woman.

…

Xia’er brought the body back to the room before the sun fully rose, almost running.

After arranging the body in the living room, Xia’er went out to buy some simple sewing tools and large pieces of cheap fabric, then returned home.

Xia’er spread the fabric on the larger dining table and summoned the body, laying it on the scrap fabric.

Using the effect of “Inspector” before it ended, Xia’er cut off the clothes on the body, hurriedly removing the blood stains, and started stitching at the fastest speed.

The body didn’t need to worry about infection, so the roughness of Xia’er’s tools didn’t affect the stitching result—except for the stitches on the face being more noticeable.

After all, this era lacked advanced suturing techniques, making true concealment of stitches impossible. She could only make it look as human as possible.

In the simulation, Xia’er had already reviewed the sketches and notes in the simulated notebook, so this time, her stitching was very swift.

In the simulation, it took Xia’er two transformations—one hour—to complete the stitching process.

In reality, Xia’er had already known which skin or muscle to cut and how much bone to remove to make the final product resemble the woman in her mind. With the Skill [Sewing Lv. 2], she stitched very quickly.

Soon, Xia’er had completely reassembled the body’s face and sealed it with spider silk just before the last few seconds.

As the spider web wrapped around the body, Xia’er stepped back and looked at the mummified body in front of her.

Done…

A silver light flashed on Xia’er, her black-blue hair turning red, and the dark purple in her eyes quickly faded.

Xia’er looked at the body, dragging it to a cabinet under the kitchen to hide it, placing the tools on the dining table, and finally taking off her cloak.

The blood-stained long object was also placed on the dining table.

Finally, she wrapped everything up with the tattered cloth laid out on the table, packing them together like kitchen garbage, and placed them beside the trash can.

These things could be dealt with later; they could be burned or buried, or perhaps simply sacrificed as insignificant extraordinary items when the gate to the Other Realm opens, and then thrown in.

In this way, the Other Realm seemed quite convenient for disposing of such “garbage,” and it would be almost impossible for anyone to trace… though it remained to be seen if it could actually be thrown in.

After finishing everything, Xia’er went to the washroom to clean her hands, then leaned back on the sofa, feeling slightly exhausted.

The living room was filled with lingering traces of blood, robbing the once cozy little house, rented with her sister, of any sense of warmth.

Saving data and transforming would also consume Xia’er’s mental energy. She leaned against the sofa, closed her eyes, and prepared to sleep a bit, not wanting to miss any opportunity to recover her spirit.

To Xia’er, sleeping had transformed from a form of enjoyment and relaxation to something akin to a task.

About half an hour later, Xia’er opened her eyes from a light slumber.

Now, everything she could do had been done yesterday. The only thing Xia’er could do now was wait and pray.

No… there was more she could do.

Xia’er recalled the previous simulation.

At that time, the simulated self had clearly left a condition.

If Xia’er fully complied with the “Doom Rules,” she would gain benefits.

If she actively maintained a “peaceful daily life,” Xia’er would receive “luck.”

But if she deliberately created a peaceful daily life, would it still be possible?

In the previous simulation, the simulated self had never interacted with extraordinary individuals and had even brought her sister into the house and found a job.

If calculated by the fastest timeline, Tara should return to Borough City tomorrow. At that point, Xia’er would have no choice but to face Tara again…

Thinking about this, Xia’er shook her head.

The incident with the female thief dying prematurely had given Xia’er a warning.

Any action different from the simulated self could produce either serious or minor butterfly effects.

Xia’er decided not to do anything unnecessary, avoiding operations that the simulated self hadn’t performed.

Finally, Xia’er decided to go upstairs, pick up the book that Aivana had sent, and start reading. When she got tired, she began trying to paint.

Currently, whether it was studying or painting, Xia’er could temporarily forget her mental fatigue and obtain temporary relief, much like entering a comfort zone.

After all, over the past three years before the simulation, Xia’er had lived this way, studying and living a routine life.

Thus, on the second day, the evening of the 27th, Tara knocked on Xia’er’s door.

Ding-dong-ding-dong-ding-dong —

“Xia’er?”

Standing behind the door, Xia’er opened the wooden door directly upon hearing the familiar voice and let Tara in.

After Xia’er closed the door, Tara, dressed in casual clothes with a small white hat on her head, knelt down in front of Xia’er, lowered her brows, and spoke:

“Xia’er, I have completed the task you assigned… The letter was delivered the whole time without Gema noticing. Just now, I visited the Rossul family’s mansion.”

At this moment, Tara’s small nose twitched slightly, as if sensing some unusual smell, but she did not ask.

This… is the smell of blood and corpses?

“Alright.”

Xia’er nodded.

Then, there was nothing else for Tara to do.

Just as Xia’er was about to find an excuse to send Tara away, Tara spoke again.

“Xia’er, do you need any more sacrifices? I can get some more for you,”

Tara looked up at Xia’er’s face and continued, “It’s fine if I become the sacrifice myself.”

In fact, Tara’s heart was somewhat conflicted at this moment.

It wasn’t because her faith wavered.

Rather, after her death, her spirit ascended to the divine realm to meet the Mother Goddess, and she had a slight difference in thought compared to serving the human embodiment of the Mother Goddess in reality.

If the Mother Goddess asked her to offer herself, she would certainly do so without hesitation, but at the same time, Tara hoped more to serve the human embodiment of the Mother Goddess.

Wasn’t this a betrayal of the Mother Goddess?

After some contemplation, Tara quickly gave up on her thoughts.

One side was the supreme spiritual kingdom of the Mother Goddess, and the other was the physical form of the Mother Goddess. Both were the Mother Goddess, and it was the same.

She just liked the physical form of the Mother Goddess more, which didn’t count as a betrayal.

Hearing Tara’s words, Xia’er was slightly speechless.

Xia’er knew that Tara was sensitive to smells, and the scent of blood and corpses definitely wouldn’t escape her notice, but Xia’er didn’t expect Tara to connect it to blood sacrifices.

It made Xia’er feel like she was acting like a serial killer.

“Have you forgotten what I told you?”

Xia’er calmly said.

“I’m sorry, Xia’er,”

Tara quickly lowered her head and whispered, “Please forgive your foolish servant. I shouldn’t have mentioned anything about… those matters.”

“Please punish me, Xia’er. I am willing to accept any punishment.”

With that, Tara drew out the ritual knife from her waist, held it with both hands, and presented it towards Xia’er.

Is this person… a masochist?

Seeing Tara kneeling before her, Xia’er felt somewhat speechless.

Why did she keep asking to be punished? Why did she feel that members of the Arrival Sect had strange fetishes?

But then again, “Reformed Monks,” or “Fanatics,” were basically indistinguishable from masochists, and their thoughts couldn’t be understood by normal reasoning.

If Xia’er really used the ritual knife to cut Tara, Tara might rejoice and use an extraordinary item to preserve the wound, making it never heal, treating Xia’er’s wound as a badge.

Thinking about it, this really seemed like something Tara would do.

“Settle down somewhere, just remember to stay far away from me,”

Xia’er thought for a moment and continued, “And don’t take any actions unless I notify you.”

“Yes, Xia’er.”

Tara immediately agreed, but her tone sounded somewhat disappointed.

It was unclear whether she was disappointed because Xia’er didn’t cut her or because she was driven away.

Once Tara left Xia’er’s house, Xia’er returned to her room, continued reading the books, and waited for Aivana’s reply.

She wondered if Aivana would suspect anything.

Luckily, a brainwashed second-level acolyte had appeared at her doorstep, almost offering themselves without resistance… it was like getting a pillow when one was sleepy.

Given Aivana’s suspicious nature, she would surely think that this matter was not simple, but it remained to be seen if she would suspect Xia’er.

Learning, resting, and timing the elimination of doom… Xia’er spent two days in a formulaic manner, and the date came to the 30th.

On this day, two pieces of good news arrived.

One was that the clothing had been finished and delivered to Xia’er, and she had paid the remaining balance.

The other was Aivana’s early promotion.

With fewer failed attempts, Aivana smoothly advanced to level 2, breaking the mind control of the cult, though Tara had kept a hand on Gema’s memories, ensuring that after the mind control was lifted, Gema would lose all memories related to becoming a cult member.

It was as if three years of life had been erased.

This was something Tara did for the sake of the sect’s interests, and due to limited time, she couldn’t precisely remove only the memories related to the sect; she had to cut them all.

In the letter, Aivana casually mentioned her promotion to “Psychologist,” while the rest of the content was mostly concerned with Xia’er’s current situation.

Aivana also mentioned that she now had the ability to help Xia’er with her mental issues and asked Xia’er to confirm when she could schedule a consultation.

After some consideration, Xia’er picked up a pen and wrote a reply.

In the letter, Xia’er congratulated Aivana on her smooth promotion and then mentioned the tasks she needed help with.

As for the date… After much hesitation, Xia’er finally decided on July 1st.

That day was when the simulated self solved the quill pen issue. Xia’er was unsure if advancing the date would encounter unknown events, so she decided to follow the original plan, which was tomorrow.

To ensure she had enough energy to face tomorrow’s confrontation with the “polluted Touch of Betrayal,” Xia’er must gather her strength tonight.

According to the records from the previous simulation, tonight was also a safe night to sleep… although Xia’er wouldn’t sleep through the entire night but would dilute the sedative into three bottles, taking them in three segments to avoid unexpected incidents in between.

The clothes, the corpse, and the aftermath managed by Aivana were all ready.

After drinking the diluted sedative, Xia’er’s mind began to repeatedly replay the steps drawn by the simulated self, reinforcing the memory and visualizing the scenes before falling asleep.

This was what she had been doing these past few days, and sleeping this way would likely make her experience a small segment of the often twisted dreams she had recently—although most of the time, the dreams were abstract and distorted.

Aside from recovering slightly less energy, there were no downsides to this approach.

After several rounds of interrupted sleep, Xia’er could no longer fall asleep.

Early in the morning, before the sun had risen, she had already wrapped the corpse in burlap and dragged it towards the Clock Tower Lane District.

Xia’er deliberately took a large detour, avoiding all areas where members of the Salvation Goddess Religion might appear, especially the area near the Clock Tower Church, until she finally reached the abandoned factory building.

Tara had already scouted the area nearby for several days under Xia’er’s command. No children would come here to explore or play, and usually, no one would enter… unfortunately, the factory lacked a basement, which made it insufficiently hidden for Xia’er.

However, the simulated self had already used this factory twice, so it was still a viable location—it was on the outskirts of the city, sufficiently remote.

Xia’er knew that Aivana would arrive at 3:30 PM, but they agreed on 5 PM.

If they had agreed on 3:30 PM, Aivana might arrive at 2 PM or earlier, which could lead to some unpleasant scenes.

Xia’er dragged the corpse to a dark corner of the factory, sat against the wall, and watched the time pass, waiting quietly.

Reality couldn’t be skipped, even knowing all the procedures, Xia’er could only wait for the specific time to arrive.

All she could do was ensure she utilized every piece of information obtained in the future or past to complete the procedure as quickly as possible.

Playing multiple loops was indeed boring…

Xia’er’s heartbeat began to accelerate, but she tried to open a small joke in her mind to ease her nervousness.

Whether or not she could end everything depended on today…

At this moment, Xia’er had stopped thinking about the subsequent procedures and instead tried to clear her mind, attempting to alleviate her inner tension.

In fact, she didn’t need to be so tense; logically, her rest time was more abundant than that of the simulated self, so her mental state should be better.

The sun rose gradually, shining through the broken roof of the factory, illuminating a small part of the area but failing to dispel the darkness deep within the factory.

Soon, dark clouds gathered, obscuring the sunlight, and the sky became gloomy, as if preparing to rain.

But the rain never fell.

7… 8… 9…

13… 14… 15…

At the moment the clock struck 3 PM, a silver glimmer flickered in the darkness deep within the factory.

A few minutes later, a tall figure, dressed in luxurious golden robes with an unnatural flush on her face, emerged from the darkness, stepping into the sunlight, raising her head to look at the sky.

“**.”

Under Xia’er’s control, the corpse slowly opened its mouth and uttered a name, ancient and unfamiliar.

Slade.

PS1:

224.5 (in arrears) – 2 (additional) = 222.5 (in arrears)

Waaah! I will never write at night again. I almost fell asleep twice while writing, and I’ll definitely write ahead tomorrow.

Write earlier! Tomorrow’s me!!!

Goodnight! I’m going straight to sleep!