Chapter 74: Analysis |
"Your name?"
"Kyle."
"Your identity?"
"Temporary member of the Zeta-8 Pangolin Mobile Task Force, Class-C employee of the Management Authority."
"The fifth line of the Management Authority oath?"
"Hold on, let me think. Mankind has thus far... and then as the things we fear grow fewer... it is we die in the dark so that they may live in the light."
"The secret signal established before the operation began?"
"I... I do not recall you setting up any such thing, Captain."
"Correct answer." Holly sighed, lowering the muzzle of her gun. "If you are an anomaly, you win. I have no way of judging whether you are truly Kyle... I have never been good at this sort of thing."
"Until our superiors make a decision, we keep moving. Give me a hand. Let us get out of here before the painkillers wear off and I change my mind."
With that confirmation, Kyle draped the Captain's uninjured arm over his shoulder, allowing her to use him as a human crutch.
He supported the Captain as they trudged deeper into the darkness. There was something resembling a light source up ahead, though Kyle was not entirely sure if it was just a hallucination.
Whatever had infected Kyle, it had completely healed his injuries and left him brimming with energy. His new right hand worked just as well as the old one, and it was no longer projecting a cognitohazard. If he could just scrub away the red eye patterns on the back of his hand, everything would be perfect.
Some anomalies were beneficial to humans, but Kyle did not believe these eye patterns fell into that category.
N4-1 said, "I do not understand... why the corpse of that Scythe Monster would contain these... bugs."
"I do not get it either. Did it chop off my hand just so the moths could grow me a new one? If their goal was to cause an infection, why did they keep hunting us down? This is just... Dump Truck can definitely figure it out. He figured things out before."
Aside from talking, there was absolutely nothing they could do.
Two people, two handguns, and a total of five magazines.
In order to carry Kyle and escape, Holly had abandoned both of their backpacks, leaving behind an entire stash of survival supplies, equipment, and ammunition.
"Should I call you lucky or unlucky? You caught the eye of a big shot, only to end up right back down here. You were supposed to head back and receive a commendation... When we get topside, drinks are on me. You have to tell me exactly how you—"
"Do not say things like that, it terrifies me," Kyle quickly interrupted, snatching away the fatalistic death flag. "I am buying when we get back. I know exactly where to find the best drinks in Green Island City."
"...Remember, I will not treat you like a Hazard Item, but if you unleash that cognitohazard again, I will shoot you dead."
"I have already covered it up with bandages, Captain."
"I know, so do not mention this in front of the others. In my current state, I might not be able to keep them in line—there is a flashlight beam up ahead."
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"A ritual is a man-made construct," the academic support consultant interrupted Sammy. "It is an elaborate, artificial ceremony built around a Divine Item solely for the sake of religious mystique and cohesion."
Sammy raised his eyes and gave the man a dismissive glance. He picked up the teacup in front of him, taking a leisurely sip. Noting the General Commander pacing anxiously nearby, he finally offered a slow, drawling rebuttal.
"Your grasp of unorthodox theology is not even at a beginner's level. Most of the time, the ritual itself is simply the instruction manual for utilizing the anomaly—this tea is quite good, what variety of leaves are these?"
"You—"
"Enough, let him speak!" The Frontline Base General Commander had to physically drag the academic consultant away. "Continue, Doctor. Please resume your previous topic."
"I lost my train of thought after being rudely interrupted. Where was I?"
"The Star Child conversion ritual!"
The General Commander knew that many high-ranking researchers had psychological quirks, but Sammy was undeniably the king of the freaks. This bastard was leisurely squeezing out crucial intelligence drop by drop, completely ignoring the critical urgency of the situation. If the man's backing was not as solid as a titanium plate, the General Commander would have absolutely resorted to physical violence to pry the information from his mouth.
They were currently crammed into a small cubicle next to the Command Room. The three men present were among the very few at the frontline base authorized to know about the concept of Divinity, yet Sammy was the sole expert on the Blood Red God. The General Commander had contacted the Theology Research Division to request a more human-like academic support replacement, but they had explicitly stated that Sammy was the foremost authority on the Blood Red God in the entire Management Authority.
Because of this, Sammy felt completely entitled to trample all over everyone else.
The General Commander had even invoked the name of Dump Truck earlier, yet Sammy remained entirely unmoved.
Now he was certain of it: this researcher's backers were on the exact same level as Dump Truck. That was why Sammy was so fearless due to his reliance on them.
What an absolute bastard!
"Oh, right, the conversion ritual."
Sammy set down his teacup.
"Their ritual for recruiting new members is also a method of recycling their victims.
"Simply put, they gather people together and have an official cultist hack and slash at them, keeping only the most resilient. As for those who die or go insane, they just claim the deity did not choose them.
"Did I mention that they implant some sort of parasite into these people beforehand? I do not think I did.
"They call that thing Divine Grace. It grants vitality to the injured and can also unleash Divine Punishment—they have all these fancy terms for it, but it essentially just boils down to healing factors, defense, and a cognitohazard.
"The purpose of this ritual is to filter out those with unyielding willpower, people who will not suffer a mental breakdown from pain and terror. In order to continuously utilize the parasite's abilities in the future, they have to frequently mutilate themselves and harm others. If they lose their minds even for a second, they will suffer a backlash, so their psychological fortitude has to be rock solid. Under the dual effects of their Anomalous Ability and Stockholm Syndrome, the victims will..."
Having finally gotten the answer he needed, the General Commander turned and walked away.
"Hey, I was not finished speaking—"
Sammy's protests failed to halt the General Commander's brisk strides.
The General Commander pushed the door open and strode out to summon the Containment Specialists, intending to conduct an analysis of the intelligence recently transmitted back by the Special Communicator.
Eavesdropping through the General Commander's communicator, Shi Rang let out a long sigh of relief and hurried toward the Terminal Station.
With this, the clues were finally clear.
The Scythe Monsters relentlessly hunting the team, the appearance of the infectious agent, and the mutation taking place in Kyle's body—all paths led to Rome. They were all inextricably linked to the complex ritual developed by the Children of the Stars Cultists, and they were all utilizing an Anomalous Divinity Project.
As for the Visitor, the toxic gas, and the anomalous underground space, they seemed to merely be byproducts created by the gas.
Although the two elements were cooperating and shared some commonalities, there was a fundamental difference between them!
The Analysis had been unsuccessful because his summary of the Anomalous Divinity Project's behavioral patterns had been inaccurate. The Anomalous Divinity Project was the true core driving this entire anomalous phenomenon!
Within Dump Truck's personal workspace, Shi Rang created a new blank page.
The personnel at the Command Center had only received filtered information through the communicator. The fact that Kyle had been infected was not yet exposed. He might actually be able to complete the Analysis while still protecting Kyle!
"In the early hours of March 27 to 28, 1664, appearing in Green Island City..."
"Possesses Divinity, created special entities (hereafter referred to as Scythe Monsters) to spread an Anomalous Effect, and cooperated with the Visitor..."
Shi Rang hit save.
"All investigative clues have been submitted."
"Beginning Analysis of the Anomaly Project. Please wait..."
"Locking successful."
Following the anxiety-inducing prompts, the page format shifted, revealing content Shi Rang had never seen before—data that was only visible on a purely digital level:
"Estimated time of completion: 11 hours and 5 minutes (Extended due to inaccurate description)."
Shi Rang wanted nothing more than to punch a hole straight through the prompt window.
'Still not accurate enough? What exactly am I missing?'
'Do I really have to wait another eleven hours?'
'In eleven hours, they will all be dead and buried!'