Chapter 17: A Peculiar Interrogation

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On the way to the interrogation room, Yuan Zhu was invigorated and called out to the little sprite inside his mind: “Oi, did you hear that? That young man just said there are immortals in this world. That sprite’s finger found in the food was blessed by an immortal before it died.”

The sprite replied, “I understand, but your fragmented memories also clearly state that the planar segment where the magical universe’s spirit scroll fell is called the Overseas Immortal Mountain. The aliens who master magic are the Overseas Qi Refiners. And the one who was eaten was indeed a sprite. Immortals equal magicians.”

“Yours is an old version. I just accessed a memory segment. This world blends Buddhism and Taoism perfectly; a Buddha’s head floats in space, and next to Mercury State stands the Kunlun Divine Tree reaching the horizon. The Taoist sect possesses thunder magic. Therefore, the missing spiritual energy resource in the Great Wilderness Immortal Scripture might well be found here. We’re saved!”

The sprite warned, “Worth noting. I’ll record it in the memo. But I advise against rashly seeking immortals or touching so-called spiritual energy. If the spiritual energy we need truly exists, it might prematurely awaken the old Immortal Scripture, which would be far from good.”

Yuan Zhu agreed, “Ah, right! We must first find a way to kill it completely and obtain the highest permission of the Immortal Scripture before attempting to awaken the Great Wilderness Immortal Scripture again.”

As he stood excitedly outside the interrogation room, a reluctant shout came from inside: “You must believe me, I’m really a traveler from another world! I’m an alien! I’m not a native spirit scroll at all; my soul doesn’t belong here. If you give me 50,000 yuan to buy enough sacrifices and map the space-time teleportation array to send me home, I’ll immediately repay you with otherworldly treasures worth over a million! Trust me!”

Then an older voice responded, “Alright, alright, of course I believe you. Go outside and calm down. We’ll seriously consider it. It’s not that I don’t want to help, but this month’s funding is completely used up. Can we talk next month?”

“That’s just brushing me off! You don’t believe me, do you? You’re underestimating me! I’m the prince of Ata Ao, the descendant of the God of Radiance, the commander of millions of Ami soldiers!”

A cough interrupted, “Old Wang, you can bring them in now.” The elderly voice inside invited Yuan Zhu and the other man in.

The sprite warned quietly, “Be careful, that fat man is watching you secretly.”

Yuan Zhu remained calm, questioning inwardly, “Hmm?”

“Did you hear the conversation inside? That agitated, foolish guy claiming to be a traveler spoke loudly on purpose—to test your reaction.”

Dividing his attention, Yuan Zhu observed Fat Wang in return while adopting a curious, gossiping demeanor, eavesdropping on the conversation inside with genuine interest—neither avoiding nor feeling guilty.

Knock knock.

Fat Wang tapped twice with his knuckles, then pushed open the door and led Yuan Zhu inside.

The interrogation room was small, about five or six square meters. A table stood in the middle, flanked by a few chairs, filling most of the space.

Inside, a bearded man, clearly emotional, was still pleading with the old man across the table for 50,000 yuan to send him back through space-time to the country called “Ata Ao.”

His eyes were peculiar: the pupils and the capillaries around his eyes and cheeks reflected a yellow-green glow, giving him an eerie appearance, even a bit of a cool aura—how he achieved this was a mystery.

The sprite sensed no trace of “pollution” or “danger” from him, so this change was likely not due to supernatural power.

Could it be the racial talent of the so-called “Ababa Aliens”?

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The old man sighed wearily. “Old Wang, please escort this prince out. Young man, you sit opposite me.”

“No! You can’t treat me like this! I’m a prince, a divine descendant, a great general! I—”

Bang!

Fat Wang kicked the prince out, then slammed the door shut behind him. Inside the cramped space, only the three remaining exchanged looks.

Yuan Zhu dared not speak, sitting obediently, quietly observing the atmosphere.

Old Wang said to the elder, “Another drunkard?”

The elder leisurely organized the documents spread across the table and replied, “This one’s a bit different, or else they wouldn’t have sent him here for me to examine. His soul is indeed troubled, but he’s not a traveler. He drank too much illegal, low-quality underground fluorescent soda, which fried his brain, syncing his brainwaves with the evil god of the foam layer. He’s been brainwashed long-term, injected with false information, and believes it absolutely.”

Fat Wang stroked his beard, thinking hard. “Hearing that, it sounds a bit familiar.”

The elder chuckled wryly, “Yes, it’s that useless evil god from last year’s ‘Powder Water’ incident. It only brainwashes victims remotely through low-quality fluorescent soda, instills sacrificial knowledge, and promises false returns. Then it tricks victims into pooling money for sacrifices, and once drained, stops responding and picks a new target.”

“That evil god’s quite sly, never causing big incidents, keeping cases at an average level so the security bureau ignores it. But by the end of last year, too many such fraud cases exposed the conspiracy. Unexpectedly, it switched tactics to a traveler scam. Since it never encountered a real traveler, it thought this one was genuine and sent him to me for examination.”

Old Wang suddenly realized, “I knew the flavor was familiar. So it’s still that worthless one.”

Yuan Zhu pricked up his ears, his perception of local evil gods sinking even lower. So pathetic! It was basically the otherworldly version of “I am Qin Shi Huang, send me 50 for Crazy Thursday” scam. And yet, people actually fell for it.

The elder suddenly addressed Yuan Zhu, “Young man, take this as a warning. Never drink illegal, low-quality underground beverages casually. Even in upscale bars, be cautious of what the bartender mixes. Getting drunk and losing composure is minor; frying your brain and attracting evil spirits is disastrous.”

Yuan Zhu nodded obediently. “I’ll remember.”

“Alright, let’s start the test.” The elder retrieved a fully sealed metal box from a drawer, carefully opened it, and took out a stack of papers.

[Beep beep beep! High-energy pollution source detected, radiating harm externally. Soul firewall active, successfully blocked attack 1, 2, 3…]

Yuan Zhu’s gaze sharpened with curiosity as he looked at the elder’s colorful papers, each with different patterns and hues, resembling color blindness test charts.

The elder pushed the first dense, chaotic patterned sheet in front of him. “Look here, can you read the numbers?”

“Numbers?” Yuan Zhu stared intently, then shook his head. “I can’t see any.”

The elder asked again, “What can you see then?”

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Uncertain of the correct answer, Yuan Zhu honestly replied, “Nothing clear, just a mess that makes my eyes dizzy. But they seem to be rotating—three different directions of counterclockwise spirals?”

The elder nodded and took out the second picture, sliding it before him. “How about this one? Does it make you feel dizzy?”

Yuan Zhu said, “A little, like I’m falling.”

“In water? Or in air?”

“In air, I hear the wind howling, almost smell the grass. It’s purple grass.” Yuan Zhu didn’t understand his own words; why did a vivid scene and sensation flood his mind just by looking at the picture?

“Look at this one, what smell do you get?”

“Metallic bitterness, a bit salty. My eyes hurt, like needles stabbing them? My tongue feels like it’s licking blades, cut and bleeding.”

“And this one? What do you feel?”

“I see a vague outline of a deity statue.”

“Try stepping back and look again. Can you make out its shape?”

“Ah, clearer now. It’s a Buddha; every fleshy protuberance blinks open and closed. His head is covered with eyeballs. The tears flowing out turn into juice. But he won’t let me drink!”

“Any discomfort?”

“No. I hear very rhythmic music, and my intestines are knotting on their own? What’s going on?”

“You have no affinity with this Buddha. He’s rejecting you.”

“????”

The bizarre test continued. Completely unsure how to respond, Yuan Zhu answered truthfully each time. Just by these sheets of paper, he underwent one distorted sensory virtual experience after another, as if lucid dreaming while fully awake.

During the test, the alarm in his mind from the Great Wilderness Immortal Scripture kept ringing. According to the sprite’s tally, he suffered over a dozen different pollution attacks.

Each pollution was mild, easily blocked. But each was of extremely pure quality. If the pollution he encountered before was cheap ink, then the residue on these papers was repeatedly refined, high-purity pigment.