Dimensional Hotel
Chapter 402 Hidden

Chapter 402: Chapter 402 Hidden

"These are records of cultivators turning demonic and people disappearing in Mo City over the past few months."

Mo Ran pointed at several scrolls with faint golden cloud patterns on the table as he spoke to Xuan Che, then pulled another jade slip from the bookshelf beside him and placed it in front of Xuan Che.

"This one pertains to the most recent incident—just a few days ago."

Xuan Che nodded slightly and took the jade slip, casually unfurling it.

A swirling luminescence rose from the jade slip, projecting a series of images and written records compiled by investigators before him, details clearly depicted.

As Xuan Che perused the documents, he furrowed his brow slightly, then looked up, gazing across the holographic projection at the woman standing opposite him: "Refining Tower personnel? After finishing work and heading home, his personality abruptly changed, cultivation level surged, and he caused wanton destruction?"

"Yes, then during the City Patrol Department’s pursuit, he broke through three barriers consecutively—as if he didn’t care for his life," Mo Ran nodded slowly with a trace of gravity in his expression, "witnesses saw him last as he leapt into a geological fissure at the bottom of Refining Tower No. 10, after which he vanished... We organized a team to investigate the fissure, but found no remains below."

Xuan Che remained silent, continuing to carefully go through the remaining documents, while Mo Ran continued to speak opposite him: "Based on what we’ve gathered so far, victims in these incidents come from all walks of life, with varied identities, backgrounds, and sect lineages, with nothing in common in terms of identity. Moreover, it’s not just humans; there are Demon Immortals, Spirit Immortals, and even registered spirit monster entities, indicating that the ’culprit’ causing them to turn demonic selects targets indiscriminately and seems to act randomly."

Mo Ran paused for a moment before adding: "Of course, compiling these numerous cases, we’re not without findings. There are, indeed, some commonalities among the cases. The biggest shared attribute is that the victims’ cultivation levels are all at least ’Spiritual’ and above, possessing abilities like Divine Sense Separation and soul wandering outside..."

Xuan Che immediately furrowed his brows, looking at Mo Ran: "So, they may have been influenced and turned demonic during the process of projecting their divine sense and observing things with their mind?"

"That’s our most plausible guess at the moment," Mo Ran nodded, "but we can’t yet determine how exactly this ’demonic turn’ happens—after all, the first step in a cultivator mastering Divine Sense Separation is learning various techniques to protect their mind. Although inevitably someone lacks skill or is careless, succumbing to bewitchment in the process, the occurrence of so many turning demonic simultaneously is indeed suspicious.

"Moreover, although we suspect the majority of victims were contaminated while projecting their divine sense, at least twenty percent of cases involved victims losing control without any cultivation or meditation activities; some were merely asleep—though these cases are extremely rare, they’re the most unsettling."

"Even without Divine Sense Separation, they were still corrupted?" Xuan Che’s brows knit tightly. After a moment of contemplation, he spoke slowly, "Indeed, cultivators know how to protect their minds, especially when there’s been no divine sense projection involved, theoretically they shouldn’t suffer contamination... But if they’re confronted with a crazed ancient powerful being, that’s another matter."

Mo Ran’s expression finally shifted slightly: "A crazed ancient powerful being?"

"Do not mention this to outsiders," Xuan Che hesitated before cautioning before revealing the truth, "Firstly, it may cause panic; secondly, the person behind this may possess an incredibly high cultivation level, perhaps having reached the stage of Heart Intent Communication with God. If word spreads, ordinary people of lower cultivation levels dwelling on that person’s name in fear might inadvertently attract their attention."

"It’s that serious..." Mo Ran’s expression shook with disbelief but quickly understood, "I understand, Immortal Envoy, please continue."

Xuan Che steadied himself and slowly began, "This series of events likely involves an ancient powerful being named ’Yun Qingzi,’ who might have already gone mad."

...

The deep cavern connected to passageways, which further link with crisscrossing fissures, formed an intricate labyrinth intertwining man-made scars and primal geological structures. Located deep in the wilderness far from Mo City, this hidden underground sanctuary buried its secrets beneath thick layers of rock and soil.

On this mining planet at the distant border, which has long declined over the years, countless corners are forgotten by time.

A millennium ago, pioneers established innumerable outposts, harvesting stations, and environment-modifying facilities in the harsh Alien Planet environment. Over time, many of these pioneering sites transformed into history due to fulfilling their design missions or succumbing to unavoidable environmental changes—whatever the reason, facilities abandoned over millennia became forgotten ’tombs,’ submerged in Shuji’s eternal rainy season, growing moldy in the damp and cold.

Now, within the depths of one such forgotten ’tomb’... evidently something darker and more dangerous than mold has taken root.

In what once was the central area of a base part dungeon, various facilities installed later replaced the defunct ancient arrays, mechanisms, and spiritual artifacts. Among the many sophisticated instruments, a dozen or so ’Foreigners’ with non-native appearances bustled, while in the center of the hall, a heavy black seat was placed—

Around the chair, countless pipes and cables were connected, intertwining like roots spreading out, linking to various equipment in the underground palace, with some disappearing into the depths of the ceiling and floor, as if they were going to even more distant places.

And atop the chair sat a middle-aged man in a white robe, with a solemn face.

The man had his eyes tightly closed, brows furrowed, numerous cables extending from beneath his white robe, connecting to many interfaces on the chair, with nerve-like biological structures "growing" directly from the back of his head, merging with an "interface" at the top of the chair’s backrest, occasionally twitching lightly.

After an unknown amount of time, when a high-ranking technomancer of the Hidden Monastery nearby glanced uneasily at the black seat for the third time, the middle-aged man seated on the chair finally slowly opened his eyes.

The neural structures at the back of his head disconnected from the chair, then slowly retracted into his body, and in the not-far distance behind the chair, several incubation containers akin to dormancy chambers emitted a low hum, with the surface of one gradually lighting up.

"Great Sage," the high-ranking technomancer in a Hidden Monastery robe immediately stepped forward two steps, slightly bowing, "You’ve recovered?"

"Mm," the middle-aged man referred to as the Great Sage nodded, despite his dignified demeanor, there was still an unmistakable hint of fatigue in his eyes, "I still need some time to return to peak condition and... to sort out my memories."

Saying this, he raised his head, looking at the believers of the Hidden Monastery busy in the hall.

"How is your progress? Have you been able to analyze anything useful from the feedback signal?"

"Only some fragmented memories," the technomancer’s tone carried a bit of helplessness, as he operated the device in his hand, "Your previous clone died too suddenly, too completely, without even the chance to completely copy and transmit memories back... Based on the limited signal analysis, the black box chip in the brain was vaporized in an instant, the protective casing around the chip almost didn’t function.

"Additionally, there was strong spatial interference at the clone’s death site... unlike any interference technology we’ve ever seen, significantly affecting the memory transmission of the clone. This is the cause of your current memory block and thought disjointment.

"These are the very few barely meaningful images we derived from the limited ’final signals’..."

The technomancer turned slightly, activating the holographic projection device in front of the Great Sage’s seat.

A flickering, chaotic blurring of light and shadow appeared in the air, vaguely visible was a curtain of rain, lightning, and intense combat scenes, but the image was upended and chaotic, not only extremely blurry but also filled with lots of "fantasy" and "hallucination" that seemed irrational, like an uncontrollable nightmare.

There were missiles skimming through the air, inexplicably imagined as having flaming tails, people sitting on those tails flying around, wielding peculiar and fierce sticks in their hands, webs of spider silk forming giant nets across the sky, with a colossal, terrifying figure crouched at the center of the net...

Bizarre, chaotic, devoid of reason, like images outlined on the brink of awakening from a collapsing dream realm — clearly, it was caused by the confusion of the mind and imagination when the clone’s brain plunged into chaos at the moment of sudden death.

And at the end of all these frenzied images was the final image transmitted by the black box chip.

It was even more blurry than all the previous images, yet due to the extreme fear of the recorder at the time, it was overlaid with brilliantly complex colors, within which a figure lifting a hand could be discerned, seemingly a woman in a black and elegant dress, eyes as red as blood, raising her hand in this direction, a bright light was forming at her fingertip, explosively spreading.

"This is from the final image, judging by the timestamp, this should be the enemy that caused your clone’s death," the technomancer beside said, "but for some reason, the memory data extracted corresponding to this image shows that the enemy is... small, physically, only a few dozen centimeters, like a doll."

The middle-aged man on the black chair had a face like water, remaining silent for several seconds before slowly speaking, "Are you saying I was killed once by a doll?"

"This might also be an erroneous impression caused by death and transmission interference," the technomancer hastily lowered his head, "You saw too, earlier there were many chaotic and absurd aspects in those images, the confusion at the clone’s end led to the distortion of many memories."

The Great Sage made no explicit comment, merely continued to keep a stern face, staring fixedly at the holographic projection of that figure covered in a layer of wild colors, not saying a word for a long time.