In the Anti-Magic Bureau.

Su Ling, clad in a black suit, white shirt, and black tie, stood next to the elevator in the Anti-Magic Bureau building.

Even though the investigator’s uniform was all a traditional black suit, Su Ling prefers to add her personal touch of choices.

Just like how every time she ordered something different in the cafe, similarly, she switches between inner and outer clothes every day.

Since she became rich, she had built up an extensive collection of clothes, ensuring that she never repeated an outfit throughout the month. 

As for her, it wasn’t about pursuing fashion but getting back all her missing experiences.

A few moments later, the director came to the elevator.

His face remained firm and serious, with no unnecessary expressions.

“Let’s go.”

Su Ling followed the director to the underground again.

This time they didn’t stop at the second underground floor but went deeper to the hidden third underground floor of the Anti-Magic Bureau.

The security measures on this level were in stark contrast to the above two; four experienced B-level investigators and twenty C-level investigators were tightly guarding it, and the number of experimental fields was much smaller. 

Access to this level was strictly prohibited. Even B-rank and A-rank senior investigators had to undergo a thorough application process and obtain explicit approval from either the director or two deputy directors before they could enter the third underground level. 

The architectural layout of the third underground floor was uniquely designed, resembling a perplexing maze with its narrow corridors and intriguing “glass” rooms lining each side, providing a fascinating glimpse into the mysterious relics stored within, as well as the movements of the prisoners, every action under constant observation. 

Su Ling also came here for the first time. The surrounding walls were snow-white and smooth, all painted with special magical paint to prevent the many mysterious relics and special prisoners from running away.

Su Ling’s eyes feasted on countless disaster-level relics; each item housed within those walls was a potent force, capable of shaking worlds if unleashed. 

Advancing further along the corridor, they arrived at a chamber situated near the adjacent “fourth floor,” where Su Ling’s gaze penetrated the transparent confinements to catch sight of the enigmatic prisoner seated within.

Mr. White, garbed in a white prison uniform, had blonde hair and a handsome face, exuding an inexplicable aura that seemed almost ethereal, drawing ordinary people towards him with an inexplicable sense of trust and reliance at first glance.

Seated upon the white bed, he turned the pages of a thick book, which, judging by the cover, was a tome of the Corona Church, delving into its contents with keen interest.

“The pseudo god,” “The white of miracles,” “The man of miracles.”

His real name was Brian White, born one hundred and fifty-three years ago, a native of Nolan.

Mr. White once founded the “Miracle Sect,” with Senator Greene’s great-grandfather as his biggest collaborator and contributor.

He was born with the power of “reality distortion,” which made White extremely arrogant since childhood, and he would try to get his hands on almost anything.

White’s strength was extremely powerful, even above the general disaster level.

Under his guidance, the once-fledgling Miracle Sect flourished and prospered, gaining prominence and influence. However, his ascent to power was not without its challenges. Senator Green’s great-grandfather’s act of betrayal, driven by a desire for the family’s secure status, dealt a significant blow to White’s ambitions. 

In a climactic confrontation, the saints of the Corona Church thwarted the Miracle Sect, quelling White’s reality distortion with a powerful “holy tool.”

Later, due to some kind of deal, the Corona Church handed White over to the Ruins Foundation and sent him to the third continent’s Ermare.

Once Su Ling and the director came outside, White closed the book in his hand and nodded gently at them in greeting.

He likes reading very much, especially books related to religion and philosophy.

Not only was he an avid reader, but he was also a talker who possessed a captivating conversational style that showcased his extensive knowledge across a wide array of topics, almost everything. 

Many times, he would offer friendly suggestions to help the guards…even if the guards refused to talk at all.

During the conversation, White would be polite and well-spoken and possess extremely sound values, and his average moral standards were far above those of ordinary people.

Throughout his body were numerous specialized nails, aptly named “erasers” by investigators due to their ability to suppress extraordinary abilities. It was a proof of how dangerous his ability was.

With a warm and gentle smile, White gazed out at the two figures standing at the door. 

“You’re finally here,” he remarked calmly.

Setting aside the religious book he had been reading, White directed his attention towards Su Ling and the director standing outside the room.

“I know why you are here.”

The director’s face was expressionless as he asked directly, “What’s your next step?”

Shaking his head slightly, White replied, “It’s not the time to tell you yet. When the time comes, I will tell you naturally.”

Then he turned his gaze towards Su Ling with a smile and said in a tone akin to an assertion of undeniable truth: “Su Ling, your personal sense of justice may seem pale in comparison to the grand scheme of things. However, once my intricate plan comes into fruition, ‘great justice’ will cover the entire world and save this chaotic and unorganized evil world.”

Recognizing his attempt to mislead her, Su Ling responded, “Justice? The deeds you are presently executing hardly merit such a noble label.”

A heavy sigh escaped White’s lips, his countenance reflecting a deep sense of regret.

“It’s a necessary sacrifice.” he murmured in a somber tone.

“Su Ling, the person you will sacrifice is nothing more than yourself, while I will be sacrificing a larger part of my life, so the justice I bear is also greater.”

With a brief pause, he added, “In this case, I absolutely cannot fail.” The determination in his eyes matched the conviction in his voice, a resolute focus that bordered on an unsettling obsession.

Sure enough, he was mentally ill. Su Ling said in a cold tone, “No one has the qualifications to decide whether others need to sacrifice for justice.”

Su Ling turned to look at the director, wanting to know if she could forcefully read the memory and get the answer… The question was on the tip of her tongue, but in the end, she didn’t ask.

The impossibility of such a method was glaringly evident, as the director’s calm demeanor hinted at the futility of pursuing such a drastic course of action. If such an approach were viable, the director would not have tolerated the prolonged wait but would have long since dispatched individuals to extract the desired information without delay.

White continued with a genuine smile, “Su Ling, you are a very upright person. I admire your qualities.”

“If you let me go now and submit to me, perhaps you will take a completely different path.”

Su Ling looked at the madman who called himself “the man of miracles” with a face full of disgust.

White shook his head, obviously knowing that his words would not sway the other party, so he turned around, facing the wall: “I won’t say anything until the time is up.”

The director said coldly: “I know what your backup plan is.”

“Those extraordinary people under your mind control should still be in some parts of Beland, waiting for an opportunity to act. You should have given the order in advance, right?”

White, who was facing the wall, nodded affirmatively, not denying the director’s suspicions at all.

“Indeed.”

“You are smarter than I thought. So… now think about it, what will they do next?”

“A group of extraordinary beings with powerful destructive abilities who have no scruples and are not afraid of life or death.” 

Rather than directly responding, he retrieved an ancient silver coin from his coat pocket, methodically placing it in his hand before clenching his fist tightly, then slowly uncurled his fingers, revealing the exquisite image of a woman engraved on the coin. 

The truth.

The director stared at his back, his tone as emotionless as always: “I will not think about what the brainwashed person will do, but I will let the brainwasher spit out the answer himself.” 

White emotions flattened as he said: “Memory reading and prophecy divination-type transcendent powers are ineffective against me.”

His icy gaze bore into his captive, devoid of any hint of compassion or empathy. The chilling words that followed were delivered in a monotone voice, devoid of any emotional inflection. 

“But something more basic is useful because you will still suffer pain… I’ll have someone destroy your spirit, completely wreck your mind, and make you say everything.”

The director’s tone was firm, and his expression showed that he did not regard the man in front of him as a human being at all. He had no humanitarian thinking at all, and he had no qualms about resorting to the most brutal tactics to extract the information he sought. He made it unequivocally clear that he had no intention of tolerating any resistance or deception.

“Su Ling, get out of here; the scenes that are going to happen next may have a certain impact on your psychology.”

Su Ling was slightly stunned. She had never really seen what torture and interrogation to force a confession were like in the Anti-Demon Bureau.

“Yes.”

With a nod, she turned around and left the place.

White still acted indifferent and remained silent.

The director waited until Su Ling was completely out of sight before staring at him.

“You’ll soon know what hell really is.”

——

The next day, early morning.

Shen Yi, dressed in a black trench coat, stood outside the cafe and locked the glass door before placing the wooden board, ‘We are closed today.’

He had already left a text message to Byron, asking him to meet him at the Beland Imperial College.

The matter of soul-torturing was important, requiring Byron’s expert assistance.

The idea of tormenting the soul of a prominent wizard was a task beyond the abilities of an ordinary wizard, but Byron possessed exceptional skills in the field of manipulating souls, and he was the best choice for the task at hand. Perhaps Byron’s adeptness was partly due to his extraordinary “gift.”. 

“Unfortunately, I can’t ask Byron to teach me, and I can’t understand the forbidden knowledge myself… However, I can’t use the art of invisibility anyway.”

As he boarded the red double-decker bus, Shen Yi noticed a significant number of passengers on board, several of whom seemed to be carrying wooden signs; this piqued his curiosity. 

Upon closer inspection, he discovered that these individuals were supporters of Councilor John.

That man became the administrator of Beland…For some reason, Shen Yi had a very subtle feeling because John was also a member of the Chaos Remnant Order.

Today marked an important event as John was scheduled to deliver his inaugural speech. Anticipation was palpable among the crowd gathered in person, and cameras were already rolling to broadcast his speech live on TV. 

Looking out the window, Shen Yi observed a steady stream of people converging toward the venue of the public speech. Men and women alike seemed eager to hear what the new administrator had to say, a testament to the significance of the occasion.

The Chaos Embers are developing very well… According to Aina’s report, they were already improving themselves and were existing as a relatively normal secret society.

Despite this progress, the notorious reputation attached to the organization by the Anti-Magic Bureau remained indelible.

The place he was going to get off arrived.

Getting off the red double-decker bus, he walked towards the college.

While he could directly reach here through “travel,” Shen Yi observed through the Book of Ten Travelers and noticed that many students were busy reading and bustling around outside the library in the early hours of the morning.

Suddenly appearing on the spot was obviously not a good thing.

He easily entered the campus of Beland Imperial College through atomization.

The day was exceptionally pleasant with no signs of rain and perfect weather conditions prevailing.

The campus was abuzz with a lively atmosphere as students hurried to and fro, the hustle and bustle indicating a considerably higher student presence than usual. 

Shen Yi made his way to the outer vicinity of the college library and stood in the shadowy corner, where he patiently awaited the arrival of the other party while blending into the ambiance of the college environment.

Soon, he saw the oncoming Byron.

Originally, Byron had been a respected professor at this college, his knowledge and expertise esteemed by both colleagues and students alike. However, due to Yare’s deliberate leak of sensitive information, Byron found himself cruelly stripped of his identity on the surface above, leaving him adrift in a sea of unfamiliarity.

Returning to the familiar confines of the Beland Imperial Academy was a bittersweet experience for Byron. Though surrounded by those he once knew, he didn’t dare to reveal his true identity, hidden behind a shroud of secrecy and illusion.

He was wearing a silver-gray coat, black hair, and a pair of black glasses. His appearance had been changed using invisible magic, making him look more like an ordinary middle-aged man in his early forties.

 Byron came to the corner and nodded slightly.

 “God Envoy.”

 Shen Yi wanted to be polite and ask for help, but he quickly remembered that he couldn’t be too polite given the role he was playing. 

And he also couldn’t show that he was powerless against the soul.

Therefore, Shen Yi used a tone like giving a task.

“I have a task for you.”

Byron remained silent and did not answer, just staring at the “God Envoy” in front of him.

A faint smile appeared on Shen Yi’s face. He knew one thing very well: Byron would obey orders no matter what.

He took out a small transparent bottle, which contained blood extracted from Henry’s ruptured body, and the color had already darkened.

“Let the corpse speak.”