Beneath the West Wing of the Welfare Home lay two underground levels. The first, a semi-subterranean floor, held storage rooms, mechanical chambers, and multipurpose classrooms. But the second… the second floor contained a passageway connecting to the East Building and a web of long-abandoned, crumbling structures. The Welfare Home’s age was so profound that even its “new” wings—East and West—were relics of decades past. And within their deepest, oldest layers, even the Guardians rarely dared to tread.
Little Red Riding Hood faintly recalled two childhood adventures into the West Wing’s depths, egged on by older kids on “explorations.” Even back then, the place was a squalid, grimy, forgotten underworld. Now, over a decade later, nothing seemed to have changed. The mildewed concrete floors and the crumbling, stained walls radiated the eerie sense that they’d always been —born decrepit, and destined to remain so, even when the structure itself collapsed into dust.
Yet Little Red Riding Hood knew every inch of this building received at least minimal upkeep. Even these forsaken corners weren’t truly abandoned. Volunteers dispatched by the Council regularly inspected all the Welfare Home’s facilities, repairing systems for electricity, water, and drainage. The grown-ups did what they could to care for the children who lived here. So if something truly uncanny had occurred in these old underground passageways, it surely would’ve drawn the attention of the staff.
After all, any “volunteer” assigned to this place would have undergone specialized Door training.
No incident reports meant one thing: whatever had changed here, it had changed recently. As of the last routine inspection, everything had still been… normal.
“Rats, roaches… not even a single ant,” the King perched lazily atop the shoulder of a Heavy Armored Deep Diver. His posture looked relaxed, but those feline vertical pupils flicked around like scanners, sweeping the area. “Use that sharp nose of yours, Little Red Riding Hood. Smell it. The air reeks of mildew, but aside from that… it’s too clean.”
Phantom silhouettes of the Shadow Wolves flickered in and out of the gloom at Little Red Riding Hood’s side. Her brow furrowed. Her eyes scanned the rotting corners of the passage.
“Were there rats down here before?”
“What a stupid question. Of course there were,” the King shot her a glance that dripped with disdain. “Rats and roaches are the best survivors in this world. Even if every human dropped dead, they’d still be thriving. I’ve been to this place many times before—it used to be lively.”
“Let’s keep moving,” she said suddenly to the King. “We need to check that connecting tunnel between East Building and the West Wing.”
A fully armed task force slipped noiselessly through the shadows between buildings, approaching what appeared to be an utterly mundane structure.
This place marked the fringe of the Old City’s derelict factory zone, surrounded by apartment buildings erected three to four decades ago. Normally, around this time of day, the area would be bustling. But today… it was eerily silent.
It was as if some unseen force had cleared the streets. Even the few distant pedestrians who turned their eyes toward the neighborhood’s gate, seeing the parked unfamiliar vehicles and bizarre apparatus set up on the open grounds, would promptly look away, almost instinctively. It was as if the entire zone had vanished from the collective attention of the world.
A Special Services Bureau Commander clad in black stood beside a mobile Node Device at the community entrance. He lifted his gaze to the target building—a six-story structure with white walls and a blue roof, stark against the blue sky. A few inconspicuous “birds” circled its outer walls, occasionally flitting toward a third-floor window.
Inside, the vanguard squad had already infiltrated and was reporting back via comms.
“This is Hunter. We’ve reached the designated floor. Surroundings stable. Awaiting next command.”
The report crackled through the earpiece. The on-site commander gave the order to hold position, then turned to the operative beside him.
A young Special Affairs Bureau Operative stood with head slightly bowed, senses focused on the perspectives relayed by the mechanical birds.
“Can you confirm the situation inside?” the commander asked.
A small bird alighted nimbly on the third-floor windowsill of the target structure, craning its head to peer inside.
“The room’s interior isn’t visible, but there’s residual spiritual fluctuation. Confirmed presence of extraordinary forces,” reported the young Special Affairs Bureau Operative swiftly. “…Further sensing is being blocked. Specific personnel locations are unclear. Some sort of interference is in place.”
“Classic Heretic Cultists’ trickery,” muttered the on-site Special Services Bureau Commander, lips curling into a sardonic smile. “As long as they’re in there… Hunters, prepare to break the Door.”
A sharp phone ring interrupted Song Cheng’s current task. He picked up the receiver and glanced at the caller ID, his expression instantly growing grim.
“Hello, it’s me—what’s the situation?”
The voice from the other end reported rapidly. The next moment, Song Cheng stood up from behind his desk.
“What do you mean ‘all dead’? Clarify that—are you saying the victims taken by the Angel Cultists were all killed? Were any innocents sacrificed at the scene? Or the original residents of the apartment…”
The voice on the phone grew more urgent. Song Cheng’s expression slowly turned rigid.
“…The damn Heretic Cultists are all dead?!”
Meanwhile, Yu Sheng sat on the second-floor balcony of the East Building, watching the playground outside through the window. A group of Cursed Children were chasing each other around the yard under the guidance of older kids, their joyful shrieks filling the air. A faint smile crept onto Yu Sheng’s face.
It was a subtle sensation, but he could feel a delicate connection forming between himself and these children. He could vaguely sense the cheerful, carefree emotions drifting in from the playground.
Just like the clear blue sky above.
“How nice,” Irene murmured, crawling onto the windowsill beside him. The little doll gazed at the playground as well, her voice tinged with wistfulness. “Children find joy in the simplest things… If only they didn’t chase me all over the place.”
“They really like you,” Yu Sheng grinned, eyeing the clearly exasperated Doll Lady. “I saw it myself earlier—two little girls even wanted to braid your hair, right?”
He shouldn’t have said that. Irene nearly fell off the windowsill.
“Ugh, don’t remind me of that horror! I saw them yank a doll’s head off just to comb its hair! Scared the living daylights out of me!”
Foxy stood nearby, wearing a thoughtful expression. She finally broke her silence.
“So now, all the Cursed Children in this Orphanage are under the protection of the Benefactor’s Blood Bestowal Ceremony, right?”
“Yep,” Irene swung her legs as she sat on the sill. “Over seventy kids in the whole compound, all under Yu Sheng’s care now…”
Yu Sheng immediately glared at the Doll Lady. “Could you not phrase it like that? What do you mean ‘under my care’?!”
Foxy ignored the banter, deep in thought again. “But this is only a stopgap. The Benefactor has shielded the children currently influenced by the Fairy Tale Organization, but new ones will inevitably fall under its sway. We still need a way to address the root cause.”
“Exactly… We have to solve this at the source,” Yu Sheng exhaled. “I wonder if Little Red Riding Hood has uncovered anything yet… For some reason, I’ve been feeling uneasy since earlier.”
Irene’s expression turned serious. “You can’t ignore that feeling—is your Spiritual Intuition flaring?”
“Not that intense,” Yu Sheng hesitated, then gave a careful assessment. “It’s more like a vague tingle. Not full-blown ‘Spiritual Intuition bouncing around,’ just… wobbling a bit.”
Irene stared at him, stunned, before finally muttering, “Seriously, you need to work on your descriptions. Who can even understand what you’re saying…”
Yu Sheng scratched his head, about to respond, when hurried footsteps echoed from the hallway.
All three turned toward the sound and saw Little Red Riding Hood hurrying toward them, followed closely by the plump tabby Cat.
From the look on the girl’s face, Yu Sheng immediately sensed something was off.
“What did you find?” he asked quickly.
Little Red Riding Hood waved a hand, speaking fast. “The rats and cockroaches in the West Building basement have vanished.”
Yu Sheng blinked and exchanged glances with Irene, not immediately comprehending. After a couple of seconds, he ventured, “Uh… congratulations?”
“Is that really something to celebrate?” Little Red Riding Hood shot him a glare. “That’s clearly an abnormality! And I’m not done. The King and I checked along the West Building’s underground passage, and near the vent shaft connecting the West and East Buildings, we found something.”
She pulled out her phone while speaking, quickly bringing up a photo and handing it to Yu Sheng.
Yu Sheng took the phone, curiosity piqued. The image was dim and slightly blurry, as if the lens had a haze over it, but it clearly showed layers of overlapping shadows on a corridor wall.
Frowning, Yu Sheng studied the shadows for a long moment before suddenly inhaling sharply.
“They’re trees,” Little Red Riding Hood said softly beside him. “Faint light pierced through a forest and cast those silhouettes on the wall. The West Building’s underground passage… it reflected the shape of the Black Forest.”
This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation