Jeming stepped out from behind the stone pillar.

Although the Void Step was still maintained, he deliberately lowered its power considerably, revealing his appearance.

He looked at the professor, his expression calm, with a hint of curiosity in his eyes.

"It seems you are not surprised by my appearance," Jeming said. "Do you have information about me?"

The professor's blood-red face showed a slight movement of the mouth, creating an expression akin to "self-mockery."

"I do not," his voice was much deeper than before, resonating with a metallic texture, "but there is a familiar feeling about you. That person... while the aura is completely different from yours, the impression you both give me is very similar."

Jeming's eyes brightened slightly.

He knew exactly who the professor meant by "that person."

It was the wizard cooperating with the Black-robed People on this plane, who provided the eerie fusion technology.

He had been tracking that person's whereabouts but had not found any direct clues.

"May I ask about the other person's information?" Jeming asked, unhurriedly.

The professor fell silent.

Jeming could feel that the silence was not a refusal, but an effort to recall.

"It's not that I don't want to tell you," the professor finally spoke, his speech much slower than usual, as if each word required effort, "but only after this bizarre fusion did I realize there was such a person around me before."

Jeming's eyebrows raised slightly.

The professor meant that he had been completely unaware of the wizard's existence until after fusing with the Blood Net, when his Soul Essence transformed, he discovered someone had been secretly active around him long before.

Achieving such a level of concealment indicates that the wizard must also be adept in some witchcraft of the Soul Element.

Thus, allowing them to shield others' perceptions from the conscious level.

Jeming nodded but did not probe further, knowing the professor had said all he could.

"It seems that after the eerie fusion, your will hasn't been significantly affected," Jeming shifted the topic.

The professor lowered his head, glancing at his blood-red hands.

"This technology is far from perfected," his voice lowered further, "my consciousness is rapidly waning. I can feel... I am forgetting. Forgetting their names, their faces, why I did all this."

His gaze rose again, resting on Jeming.

"Why do you keep me here, what do you intend?" Jeming asked.

The professor's blood-red humanoid figure took a step forward.

Those transparent web threads stretched as he moved, consistently maintaining a comprehensive coverage of the surrounding space.

He retrieved a black-covered notebook from within his body.

The notebook had no text on its surface, but the edges were worn white, and the spine showed distinct creases, as if it had been read over innumerable times.

"I once had a deal with that person," the professor raised the notebook in his hand, not handing it over, merely allowing it to float above his palm, "he provided the foundation of the eerie fusion technology. I had been continuously refining its structure, methods, the underlying logic of seals... but with my abilities, I can no longer advance it further."

Jeming's gaze fell on the notebook.

With just a slight sweep of his Spiritual Power, he sensed the massive amount of information contained within the notebook.

Not just text and diagrams, but something deeper, akin to soul imprints.

In the process of research, his own thoughts, deductions, even emotions upon failures, had been etched into the paper's fibers.

"This is all my research material," the professor's voice carried an emotion Jeming had never heard from him before, "You entities love knowledge, right? Now I give it to you. I only hope that when you perfect this technology, you pass it to the humans of this world, allowing them to truly rid themselves of the eerie threat."

The notebook floated up from his palm, slowly drifting towards Jeming.

Jeming reached out, catching it.

The instant his Spiritual Power came into contact with the notebook, it delved within, scanning through all its contents in less than a second.

The notebook held not only the technical data of the eerie fusion but also a comprehensive analysis of this world's eerie ecology by the professor, detailed dissection records of every eerie entity he encountered, and ultimate reflections on the proposition of "human coexistence with eeriness."

This content would greatly aid his research.

But what intrigued Jeming even more was another aspect.

"I initially thought, being the leader of a cult, you would have some brainwashing methods," Jeming's tone carried a faint mix of sarcasm and reflection, "but it seems you don't."

The professor's originally indifferent, hollow blood-red face suddenly bore a slight expression.

It was one of self-satisfaction.

A sense of pride from the heart.

"We are those who act solely upon our own will."

His voice no longer deep, even carried a tone of confident ease typically heard in lectures.

Jeming looked at him, momentarily silent.

"Even if it means sacrificing many innocent lives?"

The professor's self-satisfaction did not waver.

He looked into Jeming's eyes, his gaze not a cult leader's retort to a dissenter, but a martyr's response to a skeptic.

"To free humanity from the eerie threat, this is a necessary sacrifice."

Jeming gave him a long look.

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