The overwhelming light drowned everything.
Rod closed his eyes, his hands shielding his face, but even that couldn't completely stop the light from penetrating his eyelids.
He didn't know how long had passed, but as the light faded, Rod opened his eyes to find that all the monsters had turned to ash; the air had turned clear, the sky more spacious, the environment no longer oppressive, the shadows and anomalies had disappeared.
Eleven people clad in blue cloaks stood before him.
The one in the lead was a young woman.
She had delicate features and appeared to be no more than twenty years old. Underneath the blue cloak, she wore a peculiar robe composed of blue and white, with a strikingly conspicuous triple flame symbol at the neckline.
"Don't be afraid,"
she said softly, her voice tender and clear like a lark in the secluded valley.
The moment her words reached him, Rod knew the last bit of hope had vanished—he understood every word she said but could not comprehend her language.
"You're safe now."
As she finished speaking, the young woman's companions dispersed to investigate and clean up the scene.
Two of them walked towards him.
There was no way out.
Rod adjusted his mindset as quickly as possible.
His only option now was to pretend to be a survivor and get through unnoticed.
As long as they didn't grow suspicious, there was still a chance for everything to change.
To think positively, he might not necessarily be the culprit.
A tattoo couldn't prove anything. Perhaps it was a coincidence?
Maybe it was a common tattoo pattern?
Maybe the owner of the hand wasn't the murderer?
There were many possibilities, not all had to lead to the worst outcome.
With his thoughts settled, Rod was no longer panicky, waiting quietly for the fate that was about to come.
Of the two who approached, one was a burly man with white hair, and the other was a young lady with long hair that reached her waist.
The white-haired man stopped in front of him, took out a red-glowing stone, held it before his eyes, and said coldly, "Speak."
"Ah?" Rod was confused. "Say what?"
But the man had already put away the stone.
"No signs of corruption, no loss of spiritual energy."
He seemed to be checking his state, while the young lady crouched down, her soft hands searching over his body, apparently inspecting him, and said gently,
"Relax, don't be nervous, the Guardian has arrived, everything is going to be okay."
"Hmm... what is this soft thing? A furry ball? It's pretty cute. It must be something you cherish, right?"
Rod felt somewhat bewildered. Luckily, the search didn't last long; the young lady was quick and soon had checked him thoroughly, leaving no corner untouched.
"This security check is impressive," Rod thought. "I wish we had this in my world."
He wondered, "How come she acted as if she didn't see the tattoo on the back of my hand?"
The young lady stood up, gently took his arm, smiled, and said, "Walk a few steps."
Rod felt puzzled. Am I crippled?
Aside from the persistent headache that plagued him like a toothache, he didn't feel anything amiss.
After walking a few steps with the young lady's support, she smiled and said, "All is good, you're healthy."
Rod acknowledged absently but then frowned, feeling concerned. These people were so peculiar; could he, a person with no defined role, adapt to life here?
Looking around, everyone at the scene was busily engaged; they were swiftly collecting items scattered on the ground and touching each corpse with a blue stone.
Perhaps it was an illusion, but Rod felt that after being touched, the restless corpses seemed to quiet down.
"That's the Curse-breaking Stone,"
the young lady explained, as if understanding his thoughts.
"It can break the curse that turns people into living corpses, helping their spirits to find peace. Please, do not grieve; they will return to the embrace of the fire."
Rod felt a chill in his heart.
Was it because I stepped on that strange symbol?
But the symbol had turned to ash; it shouldn't have any effect anymore, right?
While contemplating, he noticed another person collecting the ashes left behind by the black-furred monsters.
The young lady smiled and said, "Don't worry, these Silver Beasts of Loren City are truly dead now."
Rod exclaimed, "Silver... Beast?"
"Yes, they're the products of a beastly curse, the origin of twisted nightmares. We'll find them. The traces of the scene have already been replicated and recorded by someone."
The young lady winked at him, indicating the burly white-haired man beside her.
Rod glanced at him, noticing the man was staring steadily at him, with a long, floating charcoal pen in front of him moving swiftly across yellow parchment.
The young lady laughed, "You seem to have recovered, and the death of your companions hasn't affected you much. You're very strong. I quite like boys of your type."
Releasing Rod's hand, she walked away with a bounce in her step.
"My name is Aluo, a Second Level healer from Jinworth, glad I could help you."
The burly man came forward and said dispassionately, "Please recount the sequence of events in entirety, with special attention to the moments before and after the disaster. Don't omit a single detail; we need this information to track down the hidden Doomsday disciples."
Here it comes!
Rod tensed up.
"I..."
He hesitated, noticing the icy stare of the burly man, the charcoal pen dancing in front of him, and the numerous oddities surrounding him, a wave of anxiety washed over him.
Couldn't they have some means to uncover the truth and detect lies?
No, I can't lie,
Rod opted for a more prudent response.
"I can't remember clearly."
This was a universal answer. Constructing a lie would require countless details, and if any detail were disproven, the whole lie would collapse.
He didn't know the forensics capabilities of these people, and replacing objective facts with subjective emotions was the best approach.
The burly man narrowed his eyes.
"Why can't you remember?"
"I, I don't know, I was too scared... bodies everywhere... my head hurts so much, I think I was injured..."
This speech was spot on, vague personal perceptions throughout, a perfect alibi for the notorious criminal Zhang San.
Indeed, that was the case, he just described it differently.
But the burly man was unmoved and said coldly.
"I found some strange bloodstains at the scene, turned to ash just before we arrived. Can you explain that?"
Rod's eyes widened. No way, even ashes leave traces for you to find? Are you Sherlock Holmes?
Rustle.
The yellow rice paper by the side of the burly man turned a page, and the floating charcoal pencil continued to write frantically.
Rod surreptitiously glanced over and noticed the back of that page was also filled with words.
But he was illiterate; he didn't recognize a single character.
Damn.
"I, I really don't know. When I woke up, they were all dead, and there were red stones everywhere... Those long-haired monsters emerged from the Black Fog, and I was terrified, not knowing where to run. Then the corpses on the ground came back to life, I couldn't breathe, I thought I was going to die, and that's when you all arrived..."
The burly man listened quietly, then after writing dozens more pages, he turned and walked away.
Rod watched his figure uneasily.
Did I pass?
Certainly not.
Two more people came over and stood beside him, their intent to surveil him could not have been clearer.
Rod's heart sank.
On the other side, the burly man didn't lower his voice to avoid him.
"... Replication complete, all information has been recorded."
"The transfer team was annihilated, the Lamplighter fell in battle, and the only survivor is him."
"No damage to the goods, unknown directional relics at the scene, unknown source Living Corpse curse, part of the evidence destroyed, cause of death unknown."
"The survivor has not undergone the Fire Trial, is uncorrupted, does not have Spirit Inheritance, is an ordinary person, but..."
"... I still believe, the survivor remains highly suspect, should be handed over to the Internal Affairs Court for special review."
The young girl in a pale green robe remained silent, listening quietly.
Beside her, the medic Alore covered her mouth, her tone filled with disbelief.
"No way? White Wolf, could you be mistaken? He doesn't seem like a bad guy to me."
The burly man White Wolf's indifferent gaze swept toward her.
"Alore, never judge a person based on feelings. There's too much suspicion in the whole affair. He's the sole survivor, yet claims amnesia. It is very possible that he harbors unspeakable secrets, trying to deceive us, carrying out some heinous plot to achieve his ulterior motives."
"But if he enters the Internal Affairs Court, he might just..."
White Wolf's voice grew somber, "No other way, some things are unavoidable."
There was a momentary silence in the air.
Rod felt his heart plunge into an ice cave, that terrible sensation of leaving the tiger's den only to enter the wolf's lair.
You guys are too strict... Just because I'm a little suspect, I need to be speculated upon and sent to what's-its-name Judgement Court?
That name alone makes it clear it's not a good place, probably something like the Gula Gulag that consumes people without spitting out the bones.
That special review sounds even more dangerous. Just from their reactions, I'd probably either end up dead or utterly ruined after it.
What to do?
As he was getting anxious, the girl in the pale green robe spoke.
"Is there any other possibility?"
White Wolf replied, "No."
The girl in the pale green robe fell silent for a few seconds, then let out an almost imperceptible sigh and said, "Alright, then ..."
Snap.
The hands of the two men behind him were already on his shoulders, and an image of being arrested by the police flashed through Rod's mind.
"No! Wait a minute!"
Rod cried out in desperation, a smart thought occurring to him.
"I have something else to say."
All eyes turned to him.
Rod's heart pounded furiously; the intense nervousness almost suffocated him.
White Wolf said indifferently, "Take him to the Executioner..."
But the girl in the pale green robe interrupted him, "Let him speak."
Rod shouted, "I want to talk to you, alone!"
White Wolf sounded slightly impatient, "Take him away..."
Yet the girl interrupted him again, "Fine."
She stepped outside, standing in a relatively clear spot.
Rod was then escorted over by the two people behind him.
His intense nervousness did not interrupt his meticulously analytical cognition, which might have been compared to Sherlock Holmes. He had keenly observed that the girl in the pale green robe with a treble flame emblem at the collar was the leader of this group.
Though she looked young, in such a world, age didn't define everything.
Maybe she was extraordinarily talented, or perhaps her father had helped her accumulate the first thirty years of experience, or maybe her family supported her through three hundred years of struggle.
But that wasn't the point, the point was her will could now change his fate.
Therefore, as long as he could persuade her, he could avoid the dreadful fate of being sent to an interrogation facility for an inhuman interrogation.
And he happened to have a special skill for persuasion.
Although this skill was somewhat devilish and there was no guarantee it would work, he had no other choice but to gamble.
The people behind him let go of him, bowed slightly, and then stepped away.
The girl's pale eyes regarded him, "Speak."
Rod took a deep breath, calming the nerves that surged within him, and said in a deep voice, "Look into my eyes."
A pale red light appeared around the girl, the flame pattern on her robe flowed, and the flame emblem at the collar began to burn.
Then, she looked into his eyes.
Rod asked, "What's inside?"
After a few seconds of looking, she saw nothing unusual and asked, "What's there?"
With the deepest voice he had ever used, Rod said.
"You."