As the elevator doors opened, Song Cheng saw Yu Sheng leading his two gang members into view—Erin sitting on Yu Sheng's shoulder, Hu Li standing by his side. But instead of the familiar faces, Song Cheng's eyes quickly fell on what Yu Sheng was carrying.

It was a "stick" that looked downright menacing, with some metal rings welded onto a piece of rebar, covered in blades, nails, and rusty metal shards. Song Cheng had seen countless strange murder weapons with his years of frontline experience, but his first reaction to this thing was still an involuntary twitch of the eye; it looked painful just looking at it, let alone picturing it in action.

Yu Sheng cheerily stepped out of the elevator with his tetanus wand, beaming at Song Cheng as if a sleepy person had finally found a pillow. "Where are those two Angel sect followers?"

Song Cheng was a bit dumbfounded. Honestly, he knew when the director hired Yu Sheng for the Special Service Bureau that this guy would eventually start showing up in the headquarters building like it was home, but he hadn't expected him to show up with something like this. His attention was entirely on that stick. "… Why don't you first tell me what that thing in your hand is? The guards didn't stop you?"

Yu Sheng was taken aback. "Guards? What guards?"

Song Cheng slapped his forehead. "Oh right, I forgot you didn't even use the main entrance…"

Yu Sheng laughed heartily, hefting the tetanus wand in his hand. After his last visit, he made some modifications to this highly effective war stick, doubling the number of nails and rebar on it. Then he shoved it in front of Song Cheng's face. "This is the marvelous tool we'll need later."

The terrifying stick wavered in front of him, and Song Cheng's peripheral vision caught sight of some more welded metal plates near the head of the rebar. Each plate had two crookedly etched words; one read "Reason," and the other read "Criticism"...

"I need to have a good chat with those two Angel sect followers," Yu Sheng said, staring seriously at Song Cheng. "Help me arrange that."

With that, he casually slung the stick over his shoulder. "Lead the way."

Before he finished his sentence, he heard a yelp from his shoulder. Turning around, he saw Erin had fallen onto the floor...

Yu Sheng frowned. "Erin, what are you doing on the floor?"

"You damn idiot! You swung me off with that stick!" The little puppet rushed up and elbowed Yu Sheng in the knee. "Can't you tell your shoulders apart?!"

Yu Sheng: "…!"

Song Cheng broke out in a cold sweat watching the chaotic and yet somehow logical scene before him. While he was used to witnessing all sorts of bizarre occurrences at the Special Service Bureau headquarters, this was the first time seeing something like this. Once the puppet finally calmed down, he hesitated and glanced at the stick in Yu Sheng's hand. "I think I know what you want to do... but I must remind you, the Special Service Bureau has regulations. We're a legitimate functional department—there are standardized procedures and prohibitions even when interrogating cultists."

Yu Sheng thought for a moment. "What if the surveillance systems fail?"

"... They still can't, and it's practically impossible for there to be a 'surveillance vacuum' in any area of this building..."

Song Cheng was halfway through his sentence when he suddenly heard his phone ring inside his pocket. He quickly pulled it out and answered, "Ah, Director."

A calm voice emanated from the receiver. "The surveillance system in the human prisoner containment zone, sector A-16 has failed."

"… Director?"

"Need I repeat myself?"

Song Cheng immediately felt a cold sweat trickle down his neck. Instinctively, he turned to look back; though the corridor was seemingly empty, he felt the director's eyes on him from all directions, one pair more than half a meter away. "No, no need!"

"Very well, escort him."

After hanging up, Song Cheng looked at the trio from the Travel Inn with a peculiar expression.

"... Follow me, I'll take you to the containment zone."

Yu Sheng didn't hear the voice on the phone but could guess what it was about—from someone's attention, nothing within the building could escape her eyes.

Feeling even more reassured, he smiled, slung Erin back on one shoulder and "Reason" on the other, and followed Song Cheng, asking curiously as they walked. "Do you also watch those all-girl band shows…"

Song Cheng, with a tired tone, replied: "My daughter sets them up! Every time I change it back, she puts them back…"

Under Captain Song's guidance, Yu Sheng and his crew navigated through the maze-like corridors of the Special Service Bureau headquarters, passing through numerous doors and eerie corridors and compartments clearly designed for security. Yu Sheng got the feeling they had exited the main building and were now heading towards some 'deep space.' After walking for quite a while, they finally passed through a final "office" with flashing red lights and opened the door at the end, revealing a round hall that looked like a transportation hub.

Corridor entrances were neatly arranged before him, fully armed guards, weapons systems aimed at each corridor, and prominently warning signs emanating a heavy sense of oppression.

Without a word, Song Cheng completed the authentication and registration and then led Yu Sheng and his crew down one of the corridors.

Along the way, Song Cheng occasionally glanced back at Yu Sheng, who walked leisurely as if taking a stroll.

Yu Sheng, of course, noticed his gaze.

"You know, I was actually planning to come to find you guys," he finally said, "just when you called to tell me you caught those two Angel Sect believers, I had already changed my clothes and reported the door-opening — I was coming to talk to you about those believers."

Song Cheng's expression slightly changed: "What do you mean? You..."

"I investigated some things yesterday — do you remember why Little Red Riding Hood and I initially went to the white exhibit hall of the Museum? Yes, the very same hall where the sacrifice ritual took place; those two Angel Sect believers caused a disturbance there which led to their capture... The Curious Object Association contact who issued the commission to Little Red Riding Hood recently died."

"I heard about this, but the investigation is handled by another department," Song Cheng immediately frowned, "From what you said, did you discover something?"

"Those two Angel Sect believers might be targeting 'Fairy Tales,' not aiming at Little Red Riding Hood personally, nor randomly choosing a victim," Yu Sheng slowly said, "The Curious Object Association contact who had an incident also had many ties to Fairy Tales before his death. Whether his true cause of death was murder or accident is still unclear and requires your professionals. But based on what I've found, the reason he was targeted and manipulated by the Angel Sect believers was his connection to 'Fairy Tales' — those cultists didn't plan this overnight."

After Yu Sheng finished, Hu Li, who usually doesn't speak much to outsiders, also grumbled angrily, "I heard from the Savior about the victim's encounter... Cultists are truly detestable."

Yu Sheng nodded: "In any case, things are quite complicated. I'll give you a detailed briefing later."

Song Cheng listened thoughtfully to this information while noting that they had reached the end of the gate. But before he ordered the door to open, he couldn't help but glance at the "logic" in Yu Sheng's hand.

"Honestly, are you sure you want to use this thing..."

"I have proper judgment," Yu Sheng said solemnly, "Moreover, I brought Hu Li along — she knows a lot of Healing spells. I assure you, it won't make things too messy."

"No, I'm not worried about that. All I'm saying is... mere pain isn't effective against those cultists," Song Cheng shook his head, feeling that the 'person' before him didn't quite understand those fanatical and obsessive Angel Sect believers enough. "I can see your... hmm, 'enthusiasm' for this matter, but if such simple and crude methods could make them talk, we wouldn't still be struggling to get information from those two cultists."

Yu Sheng raised an eyebrow.

"You can use all the pain imaginable and bearable by humanity, but for the mentally alienated Angel Sect believers, it's all endurable and can even be transformed into 'noble sacrifices,'" Song Cheng added, "The Special Service Bureau has many interrogation methods more effective than 'physical punishment,' including hypnosis, illusion techniques, truth serum, and even high-tech gadgets like the Neurological Interference Device, but the results are almost the same — they won't answer what you ask."

He didn't spell it out clearly, but his meaning was very obvious —

Anyone can hit them, if it worked, we'd have done it already; we don't genuinely care about cultists' human rights.

However, Yu Sheng just smiled at him.

"Did I ever say I need to ask them anything?"

Song Cheng was momentarily stunned: "...Ah? Then you brought this thing..."

"Just for fun."

That heavy gate slowly opened, and Yu Sheng, carrying a stick, stepped in with Erin and Hu Li, then the door slowly closed.

The armed guards at the door looked uneasily at the three "strangers" entering this high-security prison cell, finally couldn't help but speak, "Leader, this isn't compliant..."

"I'll take responsibility," Song Cheng looked complexly at the tightly closed door, taking a light breath, "Take me to the monitoring room."

"Sure, it's next door..."

...

The light blue screen vanished, and Yu Sheng curiously observed this advanced gadget, momentarily wondering about the technological level of the Special Service Bureau. His gaze then fell on the bald man sitting not far away.

The other party calmly raised his head, looking over without joy or sorrow.

Those calm and pure eyes seemed to have seen through everything.

His tone was calm, as if transcending human wisdom —

"It seems many things will happen today, new tricks have arrived — when will you realize, the Lord's faithful servants will never answer..."

Before the man finished, Yu Sheng stepped forward and struck him with the stick.

Damn talk.

He never intended to ask.

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