C95 — Rebirth

Mu Sichen had carefully considered many possibilities before finally deciding to let Lin Wei view his self-pillar —the totem.

He recalled that many employees at He Fei’s company had seen the butterfly totem, yet none of them had been pulled into the otherworld. This proved that merely seeing a totem or even being contaminated wasn’t the actual condition for being drawn into the game.

Therefore, Lin Wei seeing Mu Sichen’s self-pillar might not cause him to be pulled in either.

And even if Lin Wei was drawn into the otherworld, Mu Sichen believed he would likely enter Hope Town.

The system had once said something that stuck with Mu Sichen:

“Hope Town can serve as a player’s safehouse.”

If that were true, then in cases where otherworldly contamination reached dangerous levels, Hope Town might actually help shield the real world from the impact.

So, even if Lin Wei truly got involved, his self-image totem would give him a way to safely exit the game.

Since Lin Wei was determined to understand the truth, and since they really did need help, this kind of controlled cooperation was their best option.

—

After receiving the verification code to enable download permissions, Mu Sichen looked Lin Wei in the eye and warned him seriously:

“Let me explain the side effects of viewing this image.

After seeing it, you may be able to communicate with us without barriers.

You’ll likely begin to see things others can’t.

But there’s a side effect:

You’ll develop an unexplainable sense of trust toward me, which lasts for a certain period.

If you stay away from me, the effect fades over time.”

Lin Wei asked, “What if I look at it many times?”

Mu glanced at Cheng Xubo and thought about it. Despite their absolute loyalty to him—as if they were his most devoted fans—everyone else still lived normal lives, had independent thoughts, worked as usual.

Even He Fei still argued with him occasionally, offering differing opinions.

So it wasn’t blind obedience—they retained free will.

“The trust just lasts longer,” Mu Sichen replied honestly.

Lin Wei smiled.

“What a harmless image. That’s not what I’d heard. Let me see it.”

Mu Sichen enabled download permissions for Lin Wei, which cost 500 energy points.

He wasn’t surprised by Lin Wei’s remark about it being “different from what I heard.” Clearly, Lin Wei’s belief in him wasn’t based just on the general manager and Ying Mao’s incidents. There must be more cases that had led him to this point.

The truth was—the dead weren’t just a few.

 

With a population this large, tens of millions of people died globally every year. Even within their own country, millions died annually.

Anyone killed by the contamination could easily disappear into the statistical noise—completely overlooked.

—

When Lin Wei saw the image, it was a beautifully drawn totem. After looking at it, he checked himself mentally and felt… no change.

But he knew better.

Those affected by mental influences never feel it themselves.

That was precisely why he’d brought Shan Qi along—to serve as his mirror and watch for any changes.

As Mu Sichen had guessed, Lin Wei’s understanding of contamination and otherworldly infiltration went far deeper than he had let on.

In truth, the Special Affairs Division (SAD)—short for the National Special Event Response Department—had discovered a totem-related case six months ago.

At the time, it had been treated as a cult investigation, under the assumption the victims had been brainwashed. But as they dug deeper, they began to uncover traces of supernatural forces.

The ringleader had died suddenly.

And the accomplices—despite being under SAD surveillance—began dying inexplicably, without warning.

When the Special Affairs Division arrested the suspects, they conducted full medical exams and confirmed that none of them had any health issues. Yet, they still died—in exactly the same way as Ms. Su in the Liu case.

No assassinations. No illness.

Even when the division stationed agents to monitor the final surviving suspect around the clock, he still inexplicably died under full surveillance.

Right before death, his expression was peaceful, with light sparkling in his eyes—as if someone had come to receive him.

All the victims in these cases had one thing in common: they had lost their memories.

They didn’t remember why they had done things completely out of character, nor what they had experienced during that period.

Only a few, with unusually strong memories, could vaguely recall having seen a totem—but they couldn’t remember what it looked like.

At the current level of science and technology, no form of hypnosis could cause someone to die with zero physiological symptoms, nor could any kind of brainwashing cause mass memory loss in unrelated individuals.

To put it unscientifically, it was as if these people had been possessed by ghosts.

—

Over the next month, the Special Affairs Division discovered several similar cases across the country.

Two were copycat crimes, but the remaining three followed the same disturbing pattern: mysterious deaths, and inexplicable amnesia.

From that point on, the division ramped up its efforts.

They began reviewing every sudden death nationwide, looking for anomalies.

They followed up on all suspicious individuals.

But without exception—the trails went cold.

—

What Lin Wei didn’t tell Mu Sichen was this:

He hadn’t started investigating Mu Sichen because of the Liu case.

It was because of Mu Sichen that he began digging into the Liu case in the first place.

Ying Mao’s death was officially labeled as sudden, so Lin Wei looked into him—and that’s when he noticed Mu Sichen’s odd, out-of-place call to Ying Mao’s phone.

But Lin Wei didn’t alert anyone. He quietly began observing Mu Sichen.

It didn’t take long for him to spot abnormalities in the Liu case that matched the pattern in the other “contamination” cases.

For a while, he monitored Mu Sichen’s daily life.

A normal student, seemingly. Regular schedule, stayed in the dorm, played games…

Only anomaly? His sudden leap in gaming skill over the past week.

Lin Wei had already profiled Mu Sichen and concluded:

He was alert and cautious.

If Mu Sichen had really encountered something supernatural, he definitely wouldn’t believe regular authorities could deal with it.

That meant if Lin Wei had approached Mu Sichen in a straightforward way—even flashing his SAD credentials—Mu Sichen would’ve kept his guard up and likely told him nothing.

Only by stepping in at a critical moment, when Mu Sichen was already under pressure, could Lin Wei earn his trust and get him to speak.

So he waited for Mu Sichen and He Fei to buy that last-minute plane ticket, then intercepted them at the airport—appearing like a lifeline in a crisis.

As expected, it worked. Mu Sichen opened up, at least partially.

—

But Lin Wei hadn’t anticipated this:

That he wouldn’t even qualify to see or hear the real truth.

And this action—despite being smart and calculated—carried a major risk.

He had noticed Mu Sichen held clear authority among the four-person group.

The chats showed that key decisions were always proposed by Mu Sichen, and the rest simply agreed without question.

This made Lin Wei uneasy.

He began to wonder—what if this group wasn’t as innocent as they appeared?

What if they were like the victims from the earlier cases?

What if Mu Sichen was not just a victim, but a core orchestrator —planning some mass brainwashing operation under the guise of a supernatural experience?

In that case…

He might’ve just walked straight into a trap.

Even if they really were that dangerous, Lin Wei was still determined to go undercover within the enemy ranks to uncover the truth.

That was why he brought Shan Qi along.

 

Lin Wei needed Shan Qi to act as his eyes—to help him monitor his own mental state.

Especially when Mu Sichen sent over the image, Lin Wei immediately thought of the blurred totems from those group cases, and his internal alert level shot to the max.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a small signal from Shan Qi—he gave a slight shake of the head, signaling that he hadn’t observed any abnormal behavior in Lin Wei.

After confirming he was still mentally stable, Lin Wei could finally return to calmly assessing the current case.

Just then, a memory suddenly surfaced in his mind.

He remembered walking into the room and seeing Cheng Xubo pull a woman’s corpse out of that tiny urn. He had clearly seen it with his eyes, yet his brain had completely failed to register the event.

Just as Mu Sichen had explained—Lin Wei’s brain had perceived the danger and subconsciously deceived him, preventing him from recognizing the truth that was right in front of him.

Had Lin Wei not been such a composed person, he might’ve screamed in shock.

Even so, his face revealed his mental state.

Mu Sichen had been watching his expression closely. Seeing the look of realization dawn on Lin Wei’s face, he spoke first,

“Looks like we can finally communicate properly now.”

“Remarkable,” Lin Wei replied. “Let’s keep going—let’s see what other bizarre things I can witness now.”

“Then let’s start with examining Yang Yunyun’s body,” Mu Sichen suggested. “I only just found out about it myself, and I’m completely in the dark. Facts speak louder than words. No matter how much I try to explain, it’s useless—so let’s investigate this case together. Maybe you’ll uncover even deeper truths.”

“Xiao Shan, do a basic exam on Yang Yunyun,” Lin Wei instructed.

Just like Lin Wei had said earlier, Shan Qi was a jack-of-all-trades logistics officer. At this moment, he switched roles to become a forensic examiner.

He pulled out several pieces of unfamiliar equipment from a portable case and began examining Yang Yunyun’s body.

“Her arm injuries are strange,” Shan Qi said. “They don’t look like they were cut by a blade. The wounds are closed—almost like they naturally fell off.”

“There are also signs of livor mortis. I’d estimate time of death between 3 and 7 days ago. Wait—something’s wrong.”

His typically expressionless face showed a rare crack. Frowning, he stared at one of the instruments now inserted into Yang Yunyun’s body.

“What is it?” Lin Wei asked.

Shan Qi replied,

“The time of death for her internal organs doesn’t match the rest of her body. I’ve never seen anything like this. I’ll need to perform an autopsy to be sure.”

“I’ll arrange it immediately—get me the results as soon as possible,” Lin Wei said.

Mu Sichen asked, “So… are the internal organs older than the body? Or newer?”

Shan Qi answered,

“Her internal organs died at least ten days ago. But her exterior looks like she’s only been dead for three or four days.”

“She was still taking care of Chi Lian during that time?” Lin Wei said. “We’ll need to look into her movements over the past several days.”

With Lin Wei now helping, things became much easier for Mu Sichen and the others.

Shan Qi took Yang Yunyun’s body for an autopsy, while Lin Wei tasked people to investigate her recent whereabouts. Mu Sichen’s group only needed to wait for results.

While Lin Wei was busy, Chi Lian finally woke up.

Seeing Mu Sichen by her side gave her a sense of safety.

She told him,

“I remembered something in my dream.”

“What is it?” Mu Sichen asked.

Chi Lian replied,

“About seventeen or eighteen days ago, I went shopping with Yang Yunyun. I noticed she had become obsessed with eating. She’s someone who really cares about fitness and maintaining her figure—never eats junk food, always on a low-carb diet, and only weighs about 90 pounds…”

 

“But that day, she drank two large cups of milk tea, ate burgers, fried chicken, spicy hotpot, skewers, oden… She ate so much food, and in the evening, she even went for hotpot again. She ordered so many dishes and finished them all.”

“At the time, I thought it was strange. Even if she suddenly had a craving for junk food, someone who normally eats very little shouldn’t be able to stomach that much food all of a sudden. But she was totally fine. She even told me she had finally figured it out—in life, good food is what matters most.”

“Did she say why she had that change of heart?” Mu Sichen guided Chi Lian to recall further.

Chi Lian said, “I asked her too—what made her change her lifestyle like that. She said… hmm, that’s weird. It’s like I forgot what she said. No, wait—I remember!”

“She told me she recently went on a trip to a place called Origin Town. After that, her mindset changed a lot. She believed people shouldn’t repress their nature—they should return to the way they were at birth.”

“Her behavior was really odd. I pushed back on her ideas a little, and she started telling me some stories about Origin Town. I asked if she was possessed or something.”

“Then her expression suddenly turned fierce. She yelled at me that she didn’t want to be like this either, and that if I had experienced what she had, I would be the same.”

“I told her no way—people don’t change that easily. And she said, ‘Then try it yourself. I’ll give you the address to Origin Town.’ After that, we had a falling out.”

“And afterward, I forgot all about it—until today, when I remembered it in a dream.”

—

Origin Town…

When Chi Lian said she remembered the event from a dream, Mu Sichen initially suspected this might be related to the butterfly.

But now it seemed this had nothing to do with the butterfly at all—and instead, it brought up an entirely new mysterious town.

“Oh, right. I just remembered—her phone wallpaper was a totem image,” Chi Lian added.

“Draw it for us,” said Lin Wei, who had somehow appeared right next to her without her noticing, holding out a pen and paper.

“Thanks… who are you?” Chi Lian asked cautiously.

She had been asleep the entire time Lin Wei was talking with Mu Sichen, so she didn’t know who he was or what had happened.

“A helper. I just showed him the self-image totem,” Mu Sichen briefly explained.

He figured Lin Wei could explain the rest himself when he had the time.

Upon hearing the words self-image totem, Chi Lian immediately lowered her guard and trusted Lin Wei.

She took the pen and began sketching.

“I’ve never studied art, so I can’t draw well. The real totem looks much better,” Chi Lian explained as she worked.

“This part at the bottom is the earth. On top is a human figure—standing firmly on the ground. To the left of the figure is a catapult, launching rocks into the sky. On the right is a pile of earth, being dumped into the sea.”

“I wouldn’t say it’s identical to the real one,” said He Fei, who had somehow woken up and wandered over, “but let’s just say it’s got absolutely nothing to do with it.”

“As long as you guys get the idea,” Chi Lian replied sheepishly.

The Earth. Mu Sichen thought silently.

Sky, Earth, and Ocean—up to now, he had encountered forces representing the sky and the sea.

According to rumors, the power of the earth had mostly been devoured by Qin Zu, and Mu Sichen had thought there would be no chance of encountering another god-level entity tied to the Earth.

Yet here, right next to Chi Lian—was a clue directly related to it.

“So how do we get to this Origin Town?” Lin Wei asked seriously.

Chi Lian, He Fei, and Cheng Xubo all turned to look at Mu Sichen.

Mu Sichen replied, “This is our first time hearing about the town too. We don’t know how to get there. But I think we can find clues about Origin Town by investigating Yang Yunyun.”

Lin Wei said, “I’ve already looked into it. There’s nothing unusual about Yang Yunyun’s social life, and she hadn’t traveled recently. It’s just that about a month ago, she suddenly started to really enjoy eating… and—”

He glanced at Chi Lian.

“And what else?” Chi Lian asked.

Lin Wei continued, “Yang Yunyun didn’t have a boyfriend before, nor was she interested in dating. She didn’t have any special relationships with any men, right?”

Chi Lian replied, “Right. She was always busy with work, didn’t have time to maintain a relationship, and wasn’t interested in casual flings. She’s been single all along.”

Lin Wei sighed, “About a month ago, she suddenly became obsessed with going to nightclubs. Sometimes in a single night, she’d interact with more than three men. Just like the binge eating you mentioned earlier—from self-restraint to extreme indulgence in her instincts.”

“I’ve been so overwhelmed with this game stuff lately that I didn’t even check on her,” Chi Lian said anxiously, looking to Mu Sichen for reassurance. “I had no idea she was going through all this. If I’d just paid attention earlier, could we have helped her?”

Mu Sichen wasn’t sure if encountering Yang Yunyun fifteen days ago would have changed anything. But if it were now, at least he could have given her a self-awareness sticker to help her stay clear-headed and avoid acting against her own nature.

“I’m afraid not,” Lin Wei said, glancing at his phone. “Dan Qi just sent me a message confirming that Yang Yunyun’s heart had stopped beating over 15 days ago. In other words, she was already dead before you all began experiencing this string of strange events.”

“But she still came to take care of me, cooked for me,” Chi Lian said blankly. “We hadn’t seen each other since that argument, but we had already made up and kept chatting every day. If she died fifteen days ago, then who’s been texting me?”

Lin Wei said, “It was still her. A colleague just reported that over the past fifteen days, aside from eating much less, Yang Yunyun still went to work and came home as usual. At night, she kept frequenting nightclubs. Aside from the few days she was caring for you, she didn’t skip a single one-night stand. I’ve already assigned someone to investigate the men she was involved with—especially the ones she contacted in the past fifteen days. We should have results soon.”

Everyone fell silent.

This situation was far stranger than the dream-space case involving Director Liu’s sudden death or even the group cases Lin Wei had previously dealt with. For the first time, Mu Sichen was encountering a situation tied to the power of the Earth.

After thinking it over, he said to Lin Wei, “Tell Dan Qi to determine the time of death for each organ individually. I suspect… some parts of Yang Yunyun’s body are still alive.”

That stunned not just the three ordinary people—Chi Lian, He Fei, and Cheng Xubo—but even Lin Wei looked at Mu Sichen with disbelief.

Mu Sichen didn’t try to explain. It was all just a theory.

He suspected that Yang Yunyun’s extended activity postmortem was due to her being tainted by the Earth’s corruption.

Qin Zu, the one who wielded the power of Earth, had given Mu Sichen some insight into it.

He believed Earth held regenerative power.

The first time this was demonstrated was when Mu Sichen fractured his arm, and the little octopus healed him instantly with a single tentacle.

Later, Yao Wangping disfigured himself to infiltrate the factory, transforming into a freak covered in eyes. His ability to perfectly integrate other people’s eyes into his own body—unless driven by a fixation like Big-Eye—was essentially a form of regeneration.

Then, when Yao Wangping was stabbed in the chest with the Guardian’s sword and Mu Sichen pulled it out, the injury was grave—yet the little octopus was still able to heal him.

Ji Xian’an also mentioned that the guardians of Xiangping Town had undergone body modifications at a special training facility. Their bodies had been infused with some of Qin Zu’s power, allowing them to switch freely between mechanical and biological forms.

Even after receiving mechanical implants, their bodies could regenerate—another proof of the regenerative nature of Earth’s power.

Lin Wei didn’t ask further questions. He just told Dan Qi to investigate.

An hour later, Lin Wei returned with a grim expression and said, “You were right. Yang Yunyun’s stomach—and her X-organ—are still alive.”

 

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