Chapter Eleven: Time to Grow Strong

Kill the strange entities of the enemy faction to gain merit points.
Use merit points to raise your rank and unlock more powers.
Exchange for stronger powers, and you’ll be able to kill more strange entities.
This mechanism resembles a game, and indeed, it is—after all, only the gaming industry would rack its brains to devise such a clever, interconnected system of positive feedback, keeping players online, lingering, unable to tear themselves away.
But the Abyssal races are far more sinister than any game company. There may be many ingenious designs behind this merit system, but not a trace of goodwill.
If it were any other time, even if these powers were alluring, Chen Zi’ang would treat them as a treacherous trap baited with sweetness, strictly adhering to the principle of turning a blind eye, avoiding mention, and keeping his distance.
But now, to save his sister, he had nowhere left to turn, no other choice, and could only knowingly walk into danger.
“What are you thinking about, Senior?” Luna Tsukimi suddenly asked.
“Nothing,” Chen Zi’ang came out of his reverie and asked, “Where were we?”
“We were talking about how you must be careful with anything related to the Abyss,” Luna Tsukimi replied fluently.
“Right, exactly.” Chen Zi’ang, feeling a little uneasy, continued, “For example, a historical case in the Salt Lake Star Sector: an illegal cult once sold a type of fat oil to the public, claiming it was a blessing from the Mermaid Goddess and would keep one eternally youthful when applied. The result was over seven thousand customers transformed into Deep-Diving Mermaids.”
“Another case, in the Deepwood Star Sector: an interstellar freight merchant spent a fortune to obtain a statue of an alien deity, believing it would bring fortune to his family. Seven days later, when the security officers arrived, they found all seven family members had become swollen pus beetles.”
“In short, anything related to the Abyss—whether direct or indirect contact—can cause an increase in spirit sight, and a rapid rise in spirit sight leads to physical mutation. If, during mutation, there happen to be innocent, unwitting witnesses nearby, this mental contamination becomes a chain reaction... extremely troublesome, hard to control, and must be dealt with immediately.”
“I understand.” Luna Tsukimi bowed her head, diligently taking notes.
A small lock of hair mischievously slipped down her forehead, its curled tip bouncing a few times, and she used the top of her automatic pen to tuck it behind her ear, revealing the pale, slightly flushed, delicate skin of her neck.
Chen Zi’ang averted his gaze, feeling his glance was somewhat impolite.
“It’s just like a biological virus,” Luna Tsukimi mused. “How do we discover these occult risks and eliminate them before they take root?”
“Two methods,” Chen Zi’ang replied. “First, the city's intelligent closed-circuit monitoring system—the security cameras scattered throughout every corner of Northpole City.”
“If footage potentially related to the occult is captured, AI will recognize and judge it, generating an alert and notifying our department immediately.”
“The second is the Inspiration Divination Array, currently operated by the intelligence team in our department.”
“They maintain divination surveillance over the entire Takamagahara planet around the clock. If a mutation occurs somewhere not captured by the city’s cameras, the intelligence team will divine it.”
“However, compared to the cameras, divination has a certain error rate and is far less timely, so whenever a case is reported this way, it almost always becomes a major incident... Sorry, let me take this call.”
Chen Zi’ang picked up the constantly ringing phone on the table. He glanced at the screen—his old colleague Lu Yunfeng from the department.
“Hello.”
“Chen, have you checked the work group?”
“No, what’s up?”
“The source of the celestial Ginza mutation—its divine relic has been traced, and it’s linked to a woman named Miharu Nishikawa... Chen, the intelligence group says she’s very likely a witch!”
“Oh.” Chen Zi’ang replied calmly.
“You do know what a witch is, right?”
“Of course, Rishu just told me about it this morning.” Chen Zi’ang sighed. “The more painful, the stronger the witch. They’re ticking time bombs for modern civilization and human society, right?”
“Exactly!” Lu Yunfeng complained. “And witches capable of connecting with deities are said to have endured suffering intense enough to destroy the mind and cause severe mental illness... In other words, witches are basically lunatics, lunatics with their finger on the nuclear button.”
“That’s a terrifying thought... So what does the higher-up want?”
“They’re treating this with the highest priority. All our work, including the intelligence group’s divinations, will center on this witch. We’ve been in meetings all day—they say the leadership is paying close attention, and from now on, our daily reports must include updates on her.”
“...What daily reports?”
“Oh, I forgot to tell you. The head came by today—Barba requires all agents to write daily work summaries, and they have to be substantive, not just rote logs.”
“Damn.”
“Haha, so I came to tell you right away, so you don’t enjoy your day off too much... I heard Luna is at your place?”
“Yes, she came to ask about work.”
“Is that so? Then when can I drink your wedding wine?”
“Get lost!”
Chen Zi’ang hung up, and Luna Tsukimi asked curiously, “Senior, what’s a witch?”
“A witch is a special woman chosen by an Abyssal deity because she has endured extreme suffering.” Chen Zi’ang sighed. “The more pain they endure, the more power they draw from the deity, which makes them especially troublesome.”
“I see.” Luna Tsukimi nodded. “That must be troublesome, right? From your description, it sounds like witches are all mentally ill.”
“Anyone suffering torment long-term couldn’t possibly be mentally healthy,” Chen Zi’ang shook his head. “According to history, all recorded witches were severely anti-human and anti-social.”
“Like those anime characters who say, ‘I want the world to taste the pain I’ve suffered,’ right?” Luna Tsukimi smiled radiantly. “Sounds kind of edgy, haha.”
“...Luna.”
“Eh?”
“How can you laugh about that?” Chen Zi’ang frowned. “This isn’t a joke—a witch isn’t just suffering from adolescent syndrome. They’re not only mentally twisted, but could possess powers close to deities, and might one day destroy the world.”
“Uh, I don’t think it would go that far,” Luna Tsukimi stopped smiling, looking a bit nervous as she asked cautiously.
“Who knows?” Chen Zi’ang sighed. “Anyway, now that there’s a witch in Northpole City, from our standpoint as agents of the Sixth Response Division...”
“...We’re bound to confront her sooner or later.”
So, I have to find a way to redeem those powers as soon as possible.