NOVEL WEB Chapter 25 - Manipulation.
Yan Mei stared straight ahead as the door closed in front of him.
He remained motionless, his entire body turned away from the interior of the room.
Click.
The moment the door shut with a faint sound, Professor Chen, who had been standing still, suddenly snapped back to awareness.
His once-cloudy eyes now burned with a wild, crazed look as he took in the dark, damp surroundings.
“Why am I here?!” he shouted in a sickeningly shrill voice. “You—who are you?! That guy… wasn’t he supposed to be dead five years ago? Even his parents didn’t want to claim his body! I was kind enough to handle his burial, and now he dares to repay me with betrayal…”
The memories of everything he had just endured flashed through his mind like a thunderbolt.
Anger surged forth as the most effective weapon to drive out the fear.
His face, which had been twisted with terror, froze for a moment before contorting into a vicious sneer of intimidation.
“Oh, I get it now. It’s some kind of math modeling competition, right? This is a dream, isn’t it? Stop messing around and answer me!”
If this wasn’t a dream, there was no way to explain why he, originally lying in his bed, had ended up here in the teaching building.
No way to explain why he had just relived his every action from five years ago.
No way to explain the suffocating sensation now gripping his throat, as though someone had a hand tightly wrapped around his neck.
Yet the person before him offered no reply.
Yan Mei simply maintained his stance, hand still on the doorknob. Slowly, he twisted it.
Clack.
The sound was faint, yet in the stillness of the room, it rang out with startling clarity, almost loud enough to make one’s eardrums ache.
Professor Chen froze, his voice dying in his throat as an involuntary shudder ran through his body.
Then, the person leaning against the door turned around.
In that instant, Professor Chen could only see those dark, cold eyes—colder than the storm raging outside.
“You’re too noisy.”
Despite the striking beauty of the person’s face, it made Professor Chen feel dizzy, as if the room was shrinking around him. Shadows began to swell and flicker all over the office, dancing madly in the faint light cast by the torrential rain outside.
Professor Chen gasped like a fish, opening and closing his mouth but failing to produce any sound.
This has to be a dream! It must be!
He squeezed his eyes shut with all his strength.
Boom!
A clap of thunder exploded in his ears.
His heart jolted, and he forced his eyes open.
The scene before him hadn’t disappeared. On the contrary—
The shadows had grown sharper and clearer.
Countless eyes opened on the walls, swiveling left and right as though searching for a target. Eventually, they all fixed on him.
From Professor Chen’s perspective, behind the young man stood a wall teeming with those writhing shadows and grotesque, adoring eyeballs.
They were all staring at him.
The young man’s face, a visage of exquisite beauty, was devoid of any expression as he gazed at Professor Chen.
“Why are you bothering me and Jishu? I don’t care what you want, but Jishu was already making that kind of face.”
Professor Chen’s mind went blank.
Then, a chilling fear surged through his bones.
Get away, get away now! Or else—I’ll die for sure!
He stumbled backward in terror, crashing into the sharp edge of a desk and toppling awkwardly to the floor. Desperately, he crawled on all fours like a beast, trying to put as much distance as possible between himself and the being before him.
The frenzied eyes continued to whirl.
To his horror, they seemed to follow a path, moving from the wall near the door to the ceiling above him, all the while gleefully observing his pitiful state.
What Professor Chen was witnessing shattered every shred of logic and understanding he had.
No matter where he looked, he couldn’t escape those eyes.
Falling to his knees, he clutched his head, letting out a wailing scream.
“It’s so terrifying—I want to live!”
Yet, Yan Mei suddenly chuckled, his voice echoing through the room, mingling with the chaotic sound of the rain.
“Terrifying, so terrifying… It’s a monster, isn’t it? What should I do, what should I do now…”
That was the final straw.
Professor Chen’s psyche reached its breaking point.
As his mind unraveled, dark blood began to pour out from his eyes, ears, nose, and mouth, staining the floor as he collapsed and howled.
Yan Mei watched the scene before him with delight.
The blood spread across the floor, gradually soaking into the soles of his shoes, forming a dark, sunken pool.
–
“This is the place,” Lin Lin said, stopping the car.
Wei Yangze withdrew his gaze from the rain-drenched window.
His glasses sat firmly on his nose, the pressure leaving faint red marks on either side.
It was eerily quiet.
Only the sound of raindrops echoed around them.
This was likely the result of the third stage [Source of Infection] manifesting its space. In other words, they had entered its domain.
Lin Lin got out of the car first, his hand instinctively reaching for his waist to grip his handgun.
“Your nerves aren’t great—you don’t meet the level-two standard—but your handling of the gun is quite practiced.”
Lin Lin paused.
“…I’m a bit specialized,” he muttered vaguely.
Unlike the rigorous comprehensive requirements for level-one enforcers, the level-two assessment didn’t demand perfection in all areas. Aside from passing the written exam, candidates only needed to excel in one specific skill to advance.
Lin Lin had failed the level-one exam due to a lack of [rationality] and was thus stuck at level two.
“You’re good with guns.”
Gun ownership was strictly regulated domestically. Not everyone had the opportunity to handle one, and even with the same amount of training, accuracy varied greatly between individuals.
Marksmanship was a talent.
Lin Lin’s reflex to reach for his gun in moments of danger showed it was his most familiar weapon.
Wei Yangze noted his stance, the precision in his grip, and his immediate responsiveness to commands—it wasn’t hard to conclude:
[This guy was probably a cop before.]
That was correct.
[I’m not sharing my background to elicit sympathy or expecting a mere level-two employee to report it to headquarters. I’m sharing because I think this guy’s combat skills might be useful to me.]
He remained intrigued by what the monster had said before dissolving into pus.
The teaching building loomed ahead, close enough to touch.
Even without a level-one enforcer’s heightened perception, the overwhelming abnormality of the atmosphere was palpable.
Wei Yangze watched coldly as Lin Lin retrieved a necklace from his pocket, pressing it to his forehead.
It was a gesture akin to prayer.
[Third-stage] Source of Infection was notoriously difficult to handle.
Death was commonplace.
As long as it didn’t delay the mission, sparing three minutes for a farewell wasn’t unreasonable.
“What’s that?” Wei Yangze asked.
Lin Lin lowered the necklace, turning it over in his palm.
“Someone important to you?”
Upon closer inspection, Wei noticed its rough edges. It didn’t look like an accessory meant for a woman. There was a piece of paper inside with a name on it.
“She’s not… a person,” Lin Lin hesitated, then gritted his teeth and said bitterly, “She was my partner. Marilyn. A three-year-old German Shepherd. It’s because of her that I work here now. The thing I despise most in this life is anyone who abuses animals.”
[A police dog, huh.]
Wei Yangze said, “I see.”
The Bureau’s high mortality rate meant that everyone who joined had a deeply personal reason for doing so.
He didn’t press further.
Lin Lin put the necklace away.
The two of them ascended the steps to the teaching building.
The oppressive silence was broken by faint beeping sounds, like someone playing a game.
Wei Yangze followed the noise up the stairs.
In the dim light, a student sat on the steps, head bowed, focused on his game. The glow from the screen illuminated his face faintly.
[Why is someone here?]
There was no sign of infection emanating from the figure.
Tracing the power cord from the phone, Wei saw it plugged into a charger that disappeared into the darkness of the stairwell.
It made sense—he wasn’t sitting here by choice but because it was the only place with a power outlet, where he could conserve his energy while charging his phone.
“Ye Jishu…?”
Next to him, Lin Lin exclaimed in surprise, “What are you doing here?”
Hearing his name, the student looked up.
“Waiting for someone,” he replied. “My roommate… just went to the bathroom.”
Then—
Wei Yangze waited, but the boy didn’t continue speaking.
In a situation like this, wasn’t it normal to follow up with a question, like, “Why are you two here?”
It wasn’t natural to abruptly cut off the conversation like this.
After all, it was the dead of night in an ominously eerie building.
And they were clearly two strangers, outsiders to the campus.
But the boy didn’t ask anything further. Instead, he went back to his game.
Just as their investigation suggested, this target, designated [Source of Infection 3301], truly had an air of indifference to everything around him.
Wei Yangze found himself staring at the boy.
Suddenly, Lin Lin’s voice, low and urgent, broke the silence.
“Wei Yangze.”
He snapped back to attention.
“…What’s wrong?”
“The infection index… it’s gone.”
“What?” Wei Yangze frowned.
No, that’s impossible. Just moments ago, when they got out of the car, the area was saturated with abnormalities. How could it vanish in the span of a brief conversation?
He froze.
[It’s true… it’s gone.]
He stood there, stunned, disbelief flashing across his face. But soon, the hesitation in his expression disappeared, replaced by a steely resolve.
“Move.”
“…”
“Now. Immediately.”
Without waiting for Lin Lin’s reaction, Wei Yangze bypassed the staircase and headed straight for the area where the abnormalities had been most intense just moments ago.
As he passed, Ye Jishu, who was still sitting on the stairs, paused for the briefest moment, his wrist stilling mid-motion. But the moment passed so quickly that it was almost imperceptible. He continued controlling his in-game character without even glancing up from the screen of his phone. The sounds of his game filled the air, sharp and jarring as enemies were struck down in rapid succession.
Lin Lin hesitated for a moment, then hurriedly called out to Ye Jishu, “Don’t wander off,” before rushing to follow Wei Yangze up the stairs.
As they climbed, their systems pinged, sending a summary of the mission’s observations to their devices. The individual targeted by the [Source of Infection] was a professor from this university.
The abnormality factor had been matched.
The [Source of Infection] was believed to be a student who had died in the elevator five years ago. However, its presence had remained elusive, with no detectable leakage of abnormal energy—until now, leaving the Control Bureau unable to track its movements.
As they reached the second floor, Lin Lin saw Wei Yangze suddenly stop in his tracks.
He halted as well.
What’s going on…?
Following Wei Yangze’s gaze, Lin Lin looked up and caught sight of a figure descending the staircase above them.
As the person came closer, he finally saw their face clearly.
It was—
[Yan Mei.]
With a faint smile on his face, Yan Mi stepped off the stairs and brushed past the frozen Wei Yangze without sparing him so much as a glance.
Clack.
The sound of shoes echoed in the otherwise silent corridor.
It sounded like they had stepped on something wet.
Lin Lin’s gaze involuntarily followed Yan Mi’s figure as it moved, his mind reeling, gears grinding sluggishly.
[This person… should absolutely not be here.]
[But… was Ye Jishu waiting for him? Just here? At this place where the abnormal concentration had spiked moments ago?]
Everything felt wrong—painfully, inexplicably wrong.
Yet, not only Lin Lin but even Wei Yangze himself failed to call out to the departing figure. It was as if their minds had been wiped clean, rendering them unable to act.