Chapter Fifty-Four: Here

In this boundless darkness, Mo Yin couldn’t help but reveal a smile full of hidden meaning.

Clearly, Xie Yanluo had already crushed the warning crystal the moment she was able, making her stance irrevocably clear. Yet, not a hint of surprise could be seen on the black-haired youth’s face.

“Allow me to introduce this place,” Mo Yin said calmly, gazing at Xie Yanluo. “It’s generally called the Imaginary Space. You could think of it as a projection of the real world, or, more precisely, as a crevice between reality and illusion.”

“Even in this city built by Saints, the Imaginary Space remains an effective means to isolate from the outside. Although it cannot be used for teleportation, it is perfectly suited for short-term concealment and captivity.”

“I don’t understand what you mean,” Xie Yanluo replied.

“My meaning is simple,” Mo Yin’s expression remained calm. “No matter how you try to signal the outside, not a single sound of yours can get through.”

“This is a quiet, isolated world. You can still consider my previous suggestion, but likewise, since I’ve chosen this method, I am confident I’ll get the information I want from you.”

“Let me make this clear in advance: I’m from Darkstar. We will do whatever it takes to achieve our goals.”

“If you refuse to cooperate, your mind may suffer some trauma. That’s not the outcome I wish to see.”

Mo Yin uttered these threats in the most polite tone imaginable, and in that instant, Xie Yanluo realized every word was true.

This Imaginary Space alone spoke volumes.

And Xie Yanluo was one who knew of Darkstar’s existence.

Though she could not grasp the whole of this behemoth’s power, she could sense the overwhelming strength and terror it embodied.

“I promised someone that I would not divulge anything about this matter,” Xie Yanluo looked at Mo Yin and said, “So I’m sorry, but I reject your threats.”

“You don’t even know what I intend to do. There’s no need to refuse so quickly,” Mo Yin lowered his head, a strange melancholy in his tone.

“I know you’re a member of the Frost Burial Society, that you have the courage to sacrifice yourself for righteousness, and won’t yield to anyone’s threats. While I have a whole suite of tortures I could try on you, that would strip the whole matter of any beauty. Reducing you to a pile of broken flesh incapable of speech is not my intention.”

So saying, Mo Yin raised his head and snapped his fingers softly.

Behind him, the darkness suddenly gave way to light.

Xie Yanluo’s expression changed. “You…”

“Since I’ve made my move, simply taking you would be conspicuous. It would expose my intentions directly,” Mo Yin said quietly, looking at her.

Behind him stood a man and a woman in white Frost Burial Society uniforms.

Unlike Xie Yanluo, both of them were bound to pillars, eyes tightly shut—obviously unconscious.

“To possess a noble sense of justice is one thing,” Mo Yin spoke blandly, “but an excessive sense of justice can become its own torment.”

“These two are your colleagues, equally ignorant of the truth.”

“But if you don’t tell me what you know soon, they will suffer those inhuman, cruel tortures in your stead.”

“You will see with your own eyes how, due to your loyalty and oath-keeping, they are tortured into madmen who will live the rest of their days in terror and darkness.”

Mo Yin spoke these most ruthless words in the calmest voice, without considering himself cruel or terrifying in the least.

“I’ll give you ten minutes to decide.”

“Ten minutes from now, you’ll give me your final answer.”

...

Leafnight Academy, Sun Tower.

The doors to the Student Council office were flung open with a bang.

The lock shattered, scattering across the carpet, and the white-clad president of the Frost Burial Society strode in.

“Three of my members are missing,” Die Qian said coldly, staring at Carrotes across the round table.

“It’s not as if I kidnapped them…” Carrotes drawled, but before he could finish, Die Qian cut him off: “I said, three of my members are missing.”

Normally cold and stern, the Frost Burial president’s first reaction upon discovering three members had vanished without a trace from the city was to come straight to the Student Council headquarters and seek Carrotes’ help.

Seeing Die Qian’s expression, Carrotes had to set aside his usual indolence. “What do you want me to do?”

“Find them,” Die Qian replied evenly. “This situation is highly unusual.”

“You mentioned before that Darkstar has secretly distributed some Imaginary Seeds in the city to muddy the waters. I didn’t think they’d actually dare target the Frost Burial Society.”

“But I believe, judging by their methods, that once they strike, they show no mercy.”

With swift judgment, the president wasted not a moment and came directly to the ally she trusted most.

“You want me to help find them?” Carrotes asked.

“No,” Die Qian denied flatly.

“I’m asking you to help me find them,” she corrected, looking at the red-haired president.

Carrotes gazed back at her and sighed. “You’re that worried I won’t help?”

For Die Qian to humble herself so, there could be only one reason: she believed that even a moment’s delay would mean her three members would die in some forgotten corner. Even if the entire Leafnight City were scoured and the culprit brought to justice, the dead would never return.

“It’s not that I fear you won’t help at all,” Die Qian said quietly. “There are many in Leafnight City capable of solving this, but as for who can bring my three members back alive, I believe there is only one.”

“Why?” Carrotes asked.

“Intuition.” Die Qian’s answer was simple.

Carrotes couldn’t help but smile.

“Alright, but you’ll have to agree to one condition,” the red-haired president said.

“I agree,” Die Qian replied at once, not even asking what the condition was.

“You can ask anything later, but for now, you’ll work for me,” Carrotes sighed. “That wouldn’t be any fun. Wait here and don’t go anywhere.”

He raised his hand and snapped his fingers.

“Your Highness the Third,” Carrotes addressed the empty air calmly.

In the next instant, a black-cloaked, red-haired girl appeared silently.

Die Qian looked on in surprise.

She realized that Carrotes had always hidden something: the relationship between him and the Third Princess was far closer than anyone had imagined.

“Sorry for troubling you,” Carrotes said softly to the princess. “Take me home first.”

The princess looked at him, her fiery crystal eyes blinking subtly.

She nodded gently.

The next moment, the two of them vanished from the office.

Only Die Qian, white as snow, remained.

She bit her lip gently, then stood her ground.

She did not even sit, but simply waited there for the final outcome.

...

Today was June seventh, the rest day between the first and second trials.

Because of the dangers outside, Liu Ru was to spend the whole day at the Third Princess’s residence. Her itinerary included more special training for the third trial, and accompanying the princess in a game of chess.

Yes, playing chess with the Third Princess was important. Since Su Ziye had refused to play with her, Liu Ru had taken over this essential duty.

But just now, as Liu Ru reached out to capture the princess’s cannon piece, the red-haired girl vanished from sight.

Liu Ru was taken aback.

Though she’d grown used to the princess appearing and disappearing, this was the first time she’d vanished in the middle of a chess game.

“Su Ziye!” Liu Ru called out loudly.

Su Ziye was reading nearby—the princess had a sizable collection of books, but seemed never to read them herself, or perhaps had already read them all. Regardless, Su Ziye enjoyed them immensely.

“Hm?” Su Ziye looked up at Liu Ru, relaxed in the princess’s quarters.

“The princess is gone,” Liu Ru said.

“Gone…” Su Ziye almost replied thoughtlessly that it didn’t matter, but then he saw the unfinished chessboard in front of Liu Ru and his expression changed. “Damn!”

The next moment, the black-cloaked princess reappeared in the living room, with Carrotes beside her.

“Apologies. Emergency,” Carrotes said with a forced smile, “Trust me, I didn’t want to come.”

Liu Ru felt a bit flustered. It was her first time having someone barge directly into a safehouse, and she didn’t know how to react to Carrotes.

“What happened?” Su Ziye stood up and asked calmly.

“The Imaginary Space you mentioned,” Carrotes replied simply. “Someone used the same technique to abduct three people in this city.”

“Which three?” Su Ziye asked.

“The only thing they have in common is that they’re all members of the Frost Burial Society,” Carrotes said lightly. “And one of them you know.”

“Is it Xie Yanluo?” Liu Ru asked anxiously.

“Yes,” Carrotes replied.

“Then why come here?” Su Ziye asked.

“Because it concerns you. What you’ve done has caused real harm to Leafnight Academy,” Carrotes said coolly. “Consider this your warning.”

“I’m sorry I can’t help,” Su Ziye said sincerely. “But I’ll find my own way to show my regret.”

Carrotes was a little surprised, then nodded. “Thank you.”

He didn’t linger with Su Ziye, but turned to the Third Princess, his tone earnest. “Now, I’ll leave it to you.”

“Wait!” Liu Ru spoke up suddenly.

Carrotes turned, his expression darkening slightly.

He’d come here to send a message to Su Ziye, as they both knew Su Ziye’s actions had led to this incident. Su Ziye had promised to make amends in his own way—this would cost only a minute. But Liu Ru had no place to speak.

“I want to come with you,” Liu Ru said directly.

Carrotes looked at Su Ziye in surprise.

“She’s not my puppet,” Su Ziye shrugged and replied calmly.

“Fine,” Carrotes said.

He turned to the Third Princess. “Sorry for the trouble.”

The black-clad, red-haired beauty shook her head, stepped forward to take Liu Ru’s hand, then looked back at Carrotes.

Without a word, the three of them vanished from the living room.

Only Su Ziye was left standing alone. The black-haired youth narrowed his eyes. “Mo Yin, do you really insist on courting disaster?”

...

In the darkness of the Imaginary Space, Mo Yin gazed calmly at Xie Yanluo.

“Ten minutes are up. Have you made your decision?” He seemed certain of victory.

Darkstar possessed a long and rich history of interrogation, turning it into an art form.

With targets like Xie Yanluo, driven by justice, their favorite tool was guilt.

You might endure pain and torture for your beliefs, even see them as a form of spiritual elevation.

So they would avoid laying a finger on you—instead, they’d choose your friends, your colleagues, making you watch as they suffered on your behalf while you remained untouched, your silence the cause of their agony.

Their screams and broken bodies would become your eternal nightmare, the fastest way to corrupt a sense of justice.

“I’ve made up my mind,” Xie Yanluo said quietly.

“And your answer?” Mo Yin asked.

“It’s here,” Xie Yanluo pointed to her heart.

In the next instant, she turned her finger into a palm and brought it down without mercy.

Mo Yin’s expression changed instantly.

He rushed forward.

But he was too late.

He was close enough to Xie Yanluo.

But not close enough.

Her palm was only ten centimeters from her heart.

It took less than a hundredth of a second to shatter it.

She left not a single word of farewell—or rather, she left one sentence.

And that was: “It’s here.”

She pointed to her heart, then crushed it.

In that moment, the white-clad girl lost all sign of life, and Mo Yin managed only to catch her still-warm body.

“Why!” Mo Yin, always so sure of himself, could no longer suppress his furious roar. The boy who had seemed in full control was, at last, utterly undone.