32 Approaching the End 2

Zhuang Cheng and Zhu Shi turned their gazes toward the newcomer.

The person who stepped through the doorway wore a gray uniform—the same attire I had seen last night, worn by the Luoshan personnel who had retrieved the bodies of the fallen demon hunters.

His face was even more familiar: it was Officer Kong, the very man who had once knocked on my door and later inadvertently hindered my exploration of the cave.

“Hmm?” Officer Kong’s expression immediately shifted to awkwardness upon seeing me. “You’re Zhuang Cheng…”

“Good morning, ‘Officer’,” I replied with a hint of irony.

Seeing his face again stirred mixed emotions within me.

Though I possessed the supernatural ability to manipulate flames, I had been raised in a society governed by law, steeped from childhood in various campaigns and slogans that instilled an ingrained respect—and a certain unease—toward official authorities. At the thought that society might reject me, an involuntary anxiety would well up.

At first, I had believed Officer Kong to be a genuine policeman and even broke into a cold sweat internally over harboring a “serial killer” and illegally possessing firearms. Now, the roles had reversed: it was he who felt guilty for impersonating a police officer. The positions had swapped in an instant.

“Don’t mock me,” he said hastily. “You’ve probably already heard from Zhu Shi—all of that was Luoshan’s mission.”

His embarrassment deepened at those words. He quickly waved his hand, then changed the subject. “I’ve heard that you were the one who defeated the fallen demon hunter. I’m the patrol officer for this area, so I must thank you for your righteous deed. By the way, are you planning to join Luoshan? I suggest you—”

The moment he mentioned my joining Luoshan, Zhu Shi frowned and cut in sharply, “Officer Kong, how is the investigation progressing on ‘that matter’ I asked you to look into?”

Her tone made it clear she did not want me to join Luoshan. Was it because of the internal chaos she had previously mentioned, or potential conflicts in the future? Or was there another reason?

I held back from pressing the question or mocking Officer Kong further, instead following Zhu Shi’s lead: “What do you mean by ‘that matter’?”

“It concerns the possible grudge between you and the fallen demon hunter,” Officer Kong replied. “All information related to the fallen demon hunter case is compiled by me, the ‘Probe’ officer responsible for this area, and then handed over to Zhu Shi. If she discovers any suspicious details during her handling of the case, she commissions me to continue the investigation.

“In her report, she mentioned that the fallen demon hunter seemed to harbor an intense hatred toward you, with clues pointing back to ‘two years ago.’”

I added, “That’s right. But at that time, he didn’t have the power he possesses now, nor did he transform into such an inhuman form—otherwise, I would have recognized him.”

“Unfortunately, after death, the fallen demon hunter did not revert to his original human form but retained the monstrous appearance. We couldn’t identify his original social identity or uncover what kind of grudge he might have had with you two years ago,” Officer Kong said regretfully. “However, another result was uncovered…”

“What was it?” I asked, intrigued.

“The cause of death,” Zhu Shi took over. “The fallen demon hunter did not die from your flames or my sword aura, but from acute organ failure.”

I racked my rudimentary medical knowledge. “You mean… shock death?”

“Something like that, but not the burn shock you’re imagining,” Zhu Shi explained. “It was an unexplained organ failure. A powerhouse of the fallen demon hunter’s level would normally self-destruct from power loss after acute organ failure, but he seemed to have exhausted so much energy before dying that he simply passed away silently.”

Probably because I kept chasing him with flames, and he was rapidly regenerating tissues, losing a great deal of energy in the process. Hearing Zhu Shi’s explanation, I found a reasonable justification in my mind.

Still, calling that fallen demon hunter a “strong one” was hard for me to accept. Or perhaps my criteria for strength were flawed?

“Though we can’t rule out excessive energy consumption as the cause of his acute organ failure, we must remain vigilant. In incidents involving strange entities, any abnormal trace must be taken seriously and treated with suspicion,” Zhu Shi said earnestly. “Especially you, Zhuang Cheng—if that fallen demon hunter returns, you’re likely to be his target.”

“I’ll be careful.”

Yet, more than worrying about myself, I was concerned about how to protect Maza if she were caught up in this.

While these thoughts churned in my mind, Zhu Shi turned to observe the ritual array in the room. She crouched down beside the black plush carpet and began inspecting it.

After a moment, she murmured with puzzlement, “...Something’s definitely wrong.”

“Is there an anomaly?” I shifted my attention to her.

“Zhuang Cheng, you said last night that the letters on this carpet supplemented the missing parts of the ritual array,” she hesitated. “From my perspective, you’re not entirely wrong—the ritual array can indeed be completed this way, but even with the supplement, it’s fundamentally flawed. The probability of successfully activating it is astronomically low.”

“So, it’s basically impossible to activate?”

She answered firmly, “If this array could be activated, that would be a miracle.”

“A miracle…” I thought again of Maza.

Could this be her blessing? Perhaps the cave’s near-impossible appearance was a miraculous “misfortune” meant to draw me into the strange incidents within.

But was it too much to blame all misfortune on Maza’s jinx-like nature? Would I continue to attribute every misfortune in my life to her?

Were there other clues I had overlooked? Gradually, the image of the black jade stone surfaced in my mind.

Yet, as a clue, the black jade remained too vague.

“However, this much is certain: opening the cave may indeed have been the fallen demon hunter’s intention in setting up the ritual array, but the cave’s eventual appearance was not his doing—he simply didn’t have the capability. Perhaps he was the one most eager to understand why the cave appeared,” Zhu Shi said, pushing herself up from her knees. “We can erase this array now.”

“Should we try opening the cave again using my method? Maybe there’ll be new discoveries,” I lamented the loss of the cave in the fifteenth-floor room.

“No. The safest way is to eliminate it without triggering any abnormal phenomena.”

Zhu Shi once again demonstrated a highly cautious approach, then turned back to handle the ritual array.

But rather than wiping it away with something like a mop, she took out white chalk and began drawing mysterious new symbols starting from the outer ring of the array.

Seeing my confusion, Officer Kong explained.

Because it was somewhat complex, I simplified my understanding. In brief, the ritual array still contained residual power. When dismantling the array, the demon hunter’s power could suppress it, yet it might still cause damage to the surroundings. Zhu Shi was now creating a new array designed to absorb any remaining power and safely discharge it into the environment.

Though this process was something one would rarely witness in ordinary society, it struck me as rather tedious. Reluctant to leave, I took the opportunity to ask Officer Kong about Luoshan.

He understood my intentions immediately and, after a few words, said, “So, you want to join Luoshan?”

I concealed my anticipation and asked calmly, “Yes. For an organization like yours with supernatural duties, are there any requirements for new members? For example, do you think I’m suitable?”

Initially, I wanted to be more direct, but the only Luoshan personnel I had access to were Zhu Shi and Officer Kong. While not formal interviewers, they felt like gatekeepers in my mind. I relaxed somewhat with Zhu Shi but felt the weight of an interview when facing Officer Kong, striving to control my eagerness so it wouldn’t show.

Officer Kong nodded slightly and pondered, “Well, from my perspective, you…”

Suddenly, he stopped mid-sentence as Zhu Shi glared at him from the floor, where she was still drawing symbols.

“Alright, alright, I won’t say anything more,” he quickly surrendered, raising his hands. Zhu Shi’s expression softened as she resumed her work. While she was focused, Officer Kong gave me a knowing look.

I nodded in understanding and found an excuse to leave the fifteenth-floor room to use the restroom, then went downstairs.

After a while, Officer Kong seemed to find an excuse to step away as well and met me downstairs.

“I told Zhu Shi I needed to get back to my ‘Probe’ duties. It wasn’t entirely an excuse; let’s talk as we walk,” he said, leading me outside the complex, his voice tinged with emotion. “You asked if you could join Luoshan, right? My answer is clear: if someone as powerless as me can join, then you certainly can.”

“That’s wonderful! But if that’s the case, why is Zhu Shi so opposed to my joining? Is it because Luoshan is going through a turbulent time?”

“Has Zhu Shi told you everything? Only part of it, I suppose. Luoshan is indeed in a turbulent period, but that’s a problem for the bigwigs. We small fry just worry about our own survival,” he said. “The main reason Zhu Shi resists your joining is that you’re a flame user.”