Free Web Novel“So this is why you investigators dragged me here in handcuffs at nine o’clock at night?” Bai Liu casually lifted the heavy silver restraints and gave them a light shake, smoothly changing the subject. “That surveillance footage can’t possibly count as conclusive evidence.”
He looked at Su Yang with innocent confusion.
“Officer, isn’t arresting people like this a little arbitrary?”
Su Yang coughed awkwardly.
It was true. That footage had only been prepared to pressure Bai Liu during questioning. It wasn’t legitimate evidence strong enough to justify an arrest.
“I’m just a laid-off worker renting a cheap apartment,” Bai Liu said calmly. “If I really had access to the so-called ‘cure-all’ you mentioned, why would I give it away to children for free? You already investigated me. You know I’m desperately short on money.”
And that much was true.
Bai Liu’s financial situation was terrible. If he had truly obtained something like Blood Lingzhi, there was no reason he would hand it out to strangers for free. Anyone would know how much money something like that could make. fɾēewebnσveℓ.com
Especially someone unemployed for nearly a month.
“An ordinary laid-off worker?” Su Yang quickly regained his composure. “Then why did Miao Gaojiang — the man who killed his son before committing suicide — scream your name in terror before slitting his own throat?”
He pressed the remote again.
Another video appeared on the screen.
Miao Gaojiang’s face filled the monitor.
Exhausted. Frenzied. Hollow-eyed.
His cheeks had sunk inward sharply, his eyes bulged unnaturally, and blood stained the floor around him. A knife trembled against his own throat.
Not far away lay Miao Feichi’s corpse, eyes still open.
Someone off-camera shouted:
“Miao Gaojiang! Calm down first! Put the knife down!”
“Suicide won’t solve anything! Control yourself first! If there’s a problem, we can talk—!”
Miao Gaojiang shook violently.
His limbs spasmed as if something invisible were controlling them.
“I’m already dead!” he screamed hoarsely. “Bai Liu killed me!!”
His face twisted in agony.
“This isn’t suicide! This is murder!”
The hand holding the knife visibly resisted itself. His forehead bulged with strain as though he were desperately trying to stop his own arm.
But the blade still drove viciously into the artery in his neck.
“Murder!!”
“Bai Liu! Bai Liu! Bai Liu and that statue are the ones who killed me!!”
Blood erupted upward, splattering across the ceiling.
Miao Gaojiang collapsed into the spreading pool of blood with his eyes still wide open.
The video froze there.
Su Yang turned toward Bai Liu.
“Do you have anything to say?”
“Nothing.” Bai Liu’s expression didn’t change in the slightest. Even his heartbeat remained steady. His eyes held only realistic confusion. “Officer, I don’t even know this person. Isn’t he the man from the news? Didn’t he commit suicide? You filmed the entire process yourselves. What does that have to do with me?”
“He called your name before he died.” Su Yang stared directly at him. “He claimed you murdered him. That’s very likely the dying message he deliberately left behind.”
“So because he shouted my name, his suicide becomes homicide?” Bai Liu smiled faintly. “Captain Su, the way you’re pressuring me right now is dangerous. My mental state is fragile. If I can’t handle the pressure and decide to kill myself too, I could shout your name before dying.”
He tilted his head slightly.
“By your logic, wouldn’t that make you my murderer too?”
Su Yang slowly exhaled and refused to respond.
If he answered, he would only be following Bai Liu’s rhythm.
This man adapted to interrogation far too naturally. Yet according to every record they had, Bai Liu was supposed to be nothing more than an ordinary civilian.
“I’m not saying that,” Su Yang said at last. “But you are highly suspicious, Bai Liu.”
“You investigators rely on evidence, don’t you?” Bai Liu asked leisurely. “Aside from me ‘looking suspicious,’ what evidence do you actually have that I killed Miao Gaojiang?”
He deliberately emphasized the word looking.
Su Yang fell silent again.
There had never been any connection between Bai Liu and Miao Gaojiang.
They had never met.
Their lives had never intersected.
Which only made Miao Gaojiang screaming Bai Liu’s name before death even more disturbing.
That alone was why the case had ultimately been transferred to the Dangerous Heretic Management Bureau.
But aside from that final scream—
There was no evidence.
“So there really isn’t any evidence.” Bai Liu looked at him calmly. “Captain Su, then I genuinely don’t understand. On what legal basis can you forcibly detain and interrogate me like this?”
Su Yang stared into Bai Liu’s tired-looking eyes for a long moment before finally sighing.
Then he pulled a small glass bottle from his breast pocket and placed it on the table.
Pink mist drifted inside the bottle like a miniature galaxy made from shattered stars. It glowed softly as it swirled through the glass.
Beautiful.
Bai Liu’s gaze flickered slightly.
It looked eerily similar to the pink mist Tawil had dissolved into in his dream.
“This is a gaseous perfume that recently exploded in popularity online,” Su Yang said gravely. “Dried Rose Leaf Gas.”
He stared at the delicate pink bottle.
“It contains a substance capable of keeping people mentally stimulated for long periods. Supposedly, one spray lets a person maintain peak productivity for an entire workday.”
He paused.
“That’s why many companies began using it as an air freshener. It earned nicknames like ‘Gas Coffee’ and ‘Love-to-Work Perfume.’”
“But recently, we discovered that employees in companies using it on a large scale began showing severe psychological abnormalities once they stopped using it.”
Su Yang’s voice lowered.
“The strange part is that every known laboratory test shows the perfume contains no harmful ingredients whatsoever. It fully meets all manufacturing and safety regulations.”
“So we took over the case and transferred some affected employees here for treatment and research.”
He went quiet briefly.
“After repeated testing, we discovered their symptoms were extremely similar to withdrawal.”
Bai Liu lowered his eyes toward the bottle.
He already understood where this conversation was heading.
“We classified it as a new type of gaseous narcotic and attempted forced withdrawal treatment.”
Su Yang inhaled slowly.
“Then something happened.”
Another video appeared on-screen.
A middle-aged man strapped to a chair screamed hysterically while thrashing violently. His face was stained the same unnatural pink as the mist inside the bottle.
Veins bulged across his forehead.
He smashed his head repeatedly against the wall and clawed at his own skin. Several people restrained him, but he tore free almost immediately.
Then the mutation began.
A withered rose bloomed inside his pupils.
The flesh on his body rapidly dried and blackened before peeling away in brittle flakes like dead rose petals.
Piece by piece.
Until nothing remained except a spotless white skeleton collapsed in the chair.
A voice crackled through the recording:
“CEDT-0756 contaminated subject. Withdrawal duration: six days, seventeen hours, fifty-six minutes. Withdrawal failed.”
The video ended.
Su Yang didn’t look at the screen.
“We tried everything,” he said hoarsely. “In the end, we discovered that unless they continue using Dried Rose Leaf Gas...”
He closed his eyes briefly.
“...they wither to death.”
Silence filled the room.
“But this thing can’t be allowed to continue existing.” Su Yang laughed bitterly and lifted the small pink bottle. “Do you know how many monthly sales it has online now?”
“Hundreds of thousands.”
“And the number doubles every month.”
“So many people are already using it. If supply stops...”
“So?” Bai Liu interrupted calmly. “What does any of that have to do with me? Even if you arrest me, I can’t solve your problem.”
Su Yang looked directly into his eyes.
“No.”
“You can.”
He leaned forward across the table.
“Our captain said you’re a monster capable of resolving every evil thing in this world.”
“As long as we capture you, these insane phenomena will stop entering reality.”
Bai Liu raised an eyebrow slightly.
That genuinely surprised him.
***
A tall, broad-shouldered man in uniform was dragged toward the interrogation room by several team members.
He was drunk beyond reason.
“How much did Captain Tang drink this time?” one investigator asked while pinching his nose.
“No idea.” Another sighed bitterly while supporting the unconscious man. “Patrol found him collapsed near the base entrance.”
“Where’s Captain Su?”
“Still researching the newly captured humanoid heretic.”
The investigator hesitated.
“...Honestly, seeing Captain Tang like this, I’m starting to wonder whether the person he insisted we capture is really just an ordinary civilian—or an actual heretic.”
“We still have to trust Captain Tang.” Another investigator lowered his voice. “His future prediction ability has always been accurate. Every emergency arrest he ordered before turned out to be correct.”
He paused uncertainly.
“...This time should be too.”
Their gazes drifted toward Tang Erda.
His hair was a complete mess. He smacked his lips in his sleep and scratched lazily at his thigh.
The atmosphere became awkward.
“...Though lately Captain Tang really has been drinking too much,” someone muttered. “Didn’t he say the drunker he gets, the easier it becomes for him to enter that unconscious state and see future heretics?”
“You actually believe that excuse?”
Su Yang pushed open the interrogation room door and walked out.
“Tang Erda could accurately predict heretic appearances even before he started drinking.”
He glanced coldly at the unconscious man sprawled on the floor.
“Now his ability is getting worse and worse. The last several operations all failed. At this rate, he’s going to drink himself stupid.”
Tang Erda snored faintly on the ground.
Veins twitched at Su Yang’s temple.
“Bring ice water from CEDT-0076 Permanent Ice Storage.”
“Wake him up.”
Cold water crashed down over Tang Erda.
He jolted upright coughing violently.
His dark hair hung in damp curls beside his ears. Stubble covered his jawline, untrimmed for who knew how long. He wiped water from his chin with his thumb while slowly forcing himself upright.
His uniform was crooked and half-buttoned wrong.
The nameplate hanging almost near his jaw read:
[Dangerous Heretic Management Bureau — Third Branch Captain: Tang Erda]
“Haaah... burp.”
The heavy smell of alcohol spread outward.
Tang Erda shoved his soaked hair back, revealing a pair of long, wolf-like blue eyes sharp enough to cut flesh.
For a brief instant, those eyes were completely sober.
Then he staggered sideways against the wall.
“Why does this bar look exactly like the base...”
Su Yang covered his forehead helplessly.
“Get him sober in three minutes and throw him into the interrogation room.”
“Since he insisted on capturing Bai Liu himself, he can handle him personally.”
Three minutes later—
Bai Liu looked up at the soaked man sitting across from him and raised an eyebrow.
“So you’re the Captain Tang Su Yang mentioned. The one who insisted on arresting me?”
“I really don’t understand why you’re so convinced capturing me will solve these... strange little problems of yours.”
His gaze swept across the rose-colored bottle on the table.
“I’m just an unemployed civilian.”
Tang Erda snorted.
“Civilian?”
“Heh.”
He slowly pulled out a cigarette pack wrapped carefully in plastic, lit one, and took a deep drag.
The ember glowed crimson between his fingers, reflected in his wolf-like eyes.
He stared at Bai Liu for a long time without blinking before suddenly grinning.
A vicious grin.
“Bai Six.”
“What the hell are you pretending for in front of me?”
Tang Erda leaned back lazily.
“Do you know how many times I’ve dragged you into this room?”
“Dozens.”
“We’re both thousand-year-old foxes here. Stop acting innocent.”
Bai Liu leaned slightly away as Tang Erda approached.
“But this is our first meeting, Captain Tang.”
“Maybe you’ve mistaken me for someone else.”
Tang Erda collapsed heavily into his chair, legs spread carelessly wide.
He narrowed his drunken eyes while sizing Bai Liu up.
Then he sneered.
“First meeting?”
“No.”
“This isn’t your first time meeting me.”
“I’ve met you many times.”
“The legendary believer of the Evil God.”
“Tawil’s loyal hound.”
“The number one wanted criminal hated by every Dangerous Heretic Management Bureau in the world.”
“The broker of evil artifacts.”
“The gambler who devours gold with cursed items.”
Tang Erda paused thoughtfully.
“Oh, right.”
His eyes locked onto Bai Liu.
“The famous leader of Wandering Circus.”
“Bai Six.”
“King Bai.”
“I don’t remember meeting you,” Bai Liu replied calmly. “And I don’t understand anything you’re talking about.”
Tang Erda suddenly moved.
Like a wolf lunging for prey.
He slammed Bai Liu against the chair and seized his throat, hooking a finger beneath the chain hidden under Bai Liu’s collar.
An inverted cross and a gray-white fish scale dangled there.
“You wear the Evil God’s inverted cross openly around your neck,” Tang Erda said with a mocking smile. “And you still claim you don’t understand what it means to be His sole believer?”
He weighed the cross in his palm.
“Aren’t you afraid of hurting your god’s feelings?”
Tang Erda narrowed his eyes.
“Come on, Bai Six.”
“Where did you hide your game manager this time?”
Without warning, he tightened his grip.
Sharp pain shot through Bai Liu’s jaw as Tang Erda forcibly dislocated it.
Tang Erda covered his hand with the plastic cigarette wrapping before roughly shoving two fingers beneath Bai Liu’s tongue.
Bai Liu frowned.
Then Tang Erda paused.
“...Not there?”
For the first time since entering the room, genuine surprise appeared on Tang Erda’s face.
“In every other timeline, you kept it under your tongue.”
He clicked his tongue irritably.
“You swallowed it this time? That doesn’t really fit your villain aesthetic.”
Tang Erda yanked his hand free before snapping Bai Liu’s jaw brutally back into place.
Crack.
The sound alone was painful.
But Bai Liu merely adjusted his jaw calmly and looked up.
“Other timelines?”
“Your personal skill allows timeline travel?”
“You’ve captured versions of me from other timelines before?”
“My ability isn’t timeline travel.” Tang Erda slumped back into his chair again. “Timeline traversal belongs to a high-risk containment object here.”
“In game terms, it’s basically a god-tier item.”
“In one timeline, I won the league and received a wish.”
“The game granted me a corresponding reward.”
Tang Erda bit down lightly on his unlit cigarette.
“This item lets me jump between parallel timelines whenever I want.”
“Whenever I regret something, I reset and try again.”
He lowered his eyes.
“At first I thought I was rewinding time.”
“But eventually I realized...”
“I wasn’t returning to my original timeline at all.”
“I was only jumping sideways into parallel worlds.”
Silence lingered for a moment.
Then Tang Erda smiled again.
That same cynical smile.
“And the interesting part is this, Bai Six.”
“In every single timeline I’ve experienced...”
“You always become the greatest enemy of the Heretic Management Bureau.”
“Because in every timeline—without exception—you become the sole believer of the Evil God Tawil.”
Tang Erda slowly drew a gun from his waist.
Though his gaze still looked hazy with alcohol, the hand holding the gun was perfectly steady.
He leveled the barrel directly at Bai Liu’s right eye.
“And then you — a monster who values nothing except money — use the power of the Evil God to turn the world into hell.”
“You create cursed objects and sell them for profit.”
“You auction mirrors that reflect people’s deepest fears.”
“You place the Siren’s bones inside museums and charge obscene ticket prices while visitors lose themselves worshipping a beautiful corpse.”
“You sell Blood Lingzhi to the rich while smiling as desperate parents beg for their children’s lives.”
Tang Erda {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} lowered his eyes toward the bottle of perfume on the table.
“And Dried Rose Leaf Gas.”
“You let it spread across the world before driving up the price little by little.”
“The poor rot to death in abandoned alleys while the rich bloom like roses in golden palaces.”
He clicked the safety off with his thumb.
The sound echoed softly through the room.
“Just like the game...”
“You buy human souls.”
“And flood the world with evil.”
Tang Erda’s gaze sharpened like a blade.
“And my destiny...”
“...is to kill you.”
Bang!
