Dimensional Hotel

As the elevator doors slid open, Song Cheng immediately spotted Yu Sheng leading his two accomplices into view. Irene perched atop Yu Sheng’s shoulder, while Foxy stood beside him. However, despite the familiarity of these faces, Song Cheng’s gaze was quickly drawn to the object in Yu Sheng’s hand.

It was a weapon that could only be described as menacing. A twisted piece of rebar, reinforced with several rings welded onto it, and bristling with razor-sharp blades, nails, and jagged shards of rusted metal. Over his years on the front lines, Song Cheng had encountered countless bizarre and deadly weapons, yet this monstrosity made his eye twitch. He couldn’t help but think that a photo of it would require heavy censorship – even a single glance could make someone wince in pain.

Yu Sheng sauntered out of the elevator with his terrifying Tetanus Staff in hand, his face lighting up with excitement as he saw Song Cheng. He looked like someone who had just found the perfect solution to a nagging problem. “Where are those two Angel Cultists?” he asked eagerly.

Song Cheng felt momentarily stunned. Truth be told, ever since the Director had recruited Yu Sheng into the Special Affairs Bureau, Song Cheng had known the day would come when Yu Sheng would treat their headquarters like his personal playground. What he hadn’t anticipated was that Yu Sheng would bring something like this along. Unable to take his eyes off the staff, he asked, “Can we start by discussing that thing in your hand? How did the guards let you through with it?”

Yu Sheng blinked. “Guards? What guards?”

Song Cheng slapped his forehead. “Oh, right, I forgot. You didn’t use the main entrance.”

Yu Sheng chuckled, lifting the staff to showcase it with pride. Since returning from his last trip, he’d upgraded it further, doubling the number of spikes and steel reinforcements. “This,” he announced, “is the wonderful tool I’ll be needing shortly.”

The horrifying staff swung slightly in front of Song Cheng, and he couldn’t help but notice two crude metal plates welded near its head. Each plate bore burnt, scribbled words: one read “Reason” and the other “Critique.”

“I’m planning to have a good chat with those Angel Cultists,” Yu Sheng said earnestly, his eyes locked on Song Cheng. “Could you arrange it for me?”

Before Song Cheng could respond, a sharp cry rang out. Yu Sheng turned, only to see Irene sprawled on the floor.

Yu Sheng frowned. “Irene, why are you sitting on the ground?”

“You swung that cursed stick and knocked me off!” the tiny doll retorted, charging forward to deliver a well-placed elbow to Yu Sheng’s knee. “Can’t you tell your shoulders apart?!”

Yu Sheng’s face froze in a moment of silent protest.

Meanwhile, Song Cheng stood there, cold sweat trickling down his temple as he took in the bizarre, chaotic scene. He was no stranger to the strange and uncanny sights at the Special Affairs Bureau headquarters, but this… this was in a league of its own. Once Irene finally calmed down, Song Cheng hesitated before casting another wary glance at the staff in Yu Sheng’s hands.

“I think I understand what you’re planning…” he began cautiously. “But I must remind you, the Bureau has regulations. We’re a legitimate organization. Even when interrogating cultists, we follow proper procedures and prohibitions.”

Yu Sheng considered this. “What if the surveillance system malfunctions?” he asked.

“…Even if it malfunctions, it’s not allowed. Besides, this building doesn’t have any zones where surveillance could just ‘malfunction’…”

Song Cheng’s sentence was abruptly interrupted by the ringing of his phone. He glanced at the caller ID and hurriedly answered, “Director.”

A calm voice emanated from the receiver. “The surveillance system in human containment sector A-16 is down.”

“…Director?”

“Do I need to repeat myself?”

Song Cheng felt a cold sweat break out on the back of his neck. He instinctively glanced around the empty corridor, yet he could feel the Director’s gaze bearing down on him from every direction. One particularly intense presence seemed to hover barely half a meter away. “No need! Understood!”

“Good. Take him there.”

After hanging up, Song Cheng turned back to the peculiar trio before him, his expression a mix of disbelief and resignation.

“Follow me. I’ll take you to the containment sector.”

Yu Sheng hadn’t overheard the conversation, but he could guess the gist of it. Clearly, nothing in this building escaped the Director’s notice. Feeling reassured, he smiled and slung Irene over one shoulder and his “Reason” staff over the other, falling in step behind Song Cheng.

As they walked, he couldn’t help but ask curiously, “So, do you also watch those bands with all-female lineups…?”

Song Cheng’s tone was weary. “That was my daughter’s doing. I reset it, and she reset it back…”

Under the direction of Captain Song Cheng, Yu Sheng and his companions navigated the labyrinthine headquarters of the Special Affairs Bureau. The building felt like a maze of time and space, with winding passages, countless security doors, and eerie corridors designed with safety in mind. At some point, Yu Sheng sensed they had left the “main structure” of the building and ventured into a deeper spatial layer. After an extended journey, they finally passed through a red-lit “office” and arrived at a circular hall that resembled a “transportation hub.”

Corridors radiated from the center like spokes on a wheel, each guarded by fully armed sentinels. Weapons systems pointed down the hallways, and warning signs exuded an oppressive aura.

Captain Song Cheng said nothing as he completed the authentication and registration processes. He led Yu Sheng’s group down one of the corridors, occasionally glancing back at Yu Sheng, who strolled along as if taking a leisurely walk.

Yu Sheng noticed the captain’s gaze and eventually broke the silence. “You know, I was planning to come to you,” he said. “Right before you called to tell me you’d caught those two Angel Cultists, I’d already changed clothes and prepared a report. I was going to discuss those cultists with you.”

Song Cheng’s eyes flickered with curiosity. “What do you mean by that?”

“Yesterday, I looked into a few things,” Yu Sheng replied. “Do you remember why Little Red Riding Hood and I went to the white exhibition hall at the Museum? That hall, the one where the sacrificial ritual took place, is where those two Angel Cultists caused trouble and ended up getting caught. The contact from the Association of Strange Objects who had commissioned us recently… died.”

“I heard about that,” Song Cheng said, his brow furrowing. “But another department is handling that investigation. Are you saying you found something?”

“Those two cultists weren’t targeting Little Red Riding Hood personally, nor was their victim chosen randomly,” Yu Sheng said slowly. “Their actions were linked to the ‘Fairy Tale Organization.’ The deceased contact also had many connections to Fairy Tale. Whether his death was murder or an accident is something your experts need to determine. But based on what I’ve discovered, the cultists ensnared him because of those ties. This wasn’t a spur-of-the-moment plan; they’ve been scheming for a long time.”

Even the usually quiet Foxy grumbled in frustration. “My benefactor told me about that poor man’s fate. Those cultists… They’re detestable.”

Yu Sheng nodded. “It’s a tangled situation. I’ll explain everything in detail later.”

Song Cheng listened intently but glanced toward the gate at the end of the corridor. Before issuing the command to open it, his eyes fell on the spiked club in Yu Sheng’s hand. “Are you sure you want to use that thing?”

“I know what I’m doing,” Yu Sheng said seriously. “Besides, I brought Foxy along. She knows plenty of regeneration and healing spells. I promise, things won’t get out of hand.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about,” Song Cheng sighed. “Pain alone won’t work on those cultists.” He shook his head, sensing Yu Sheng’s lack of understanding about the Angel Cultists and their fanatical nature. “Your ‘enthusiasm’ is obvious, but if simple methods like that worked, we’d have already gotten the information we need. Torture, hypnosis, illusion spells, truth serums, and even neural interface devices… None of it makes them talk. They’d rather endure anything, even glorify their suffering as a noble sacrifice.”

Yu Sheng raised an eyebrow. “Did I ever say I was going to question them?”

Song Cheng froze. “Wait… Then why are you bringing that thing?”

Yu Sheng smirked. “For fun.”

The heavy gate slowly opened, and Yu Sheng, with his spiked club in hand, stepped inside, followed by Irene and Foxy. The door sealed shut behind them.

The armed guards by the door exchanged uneasy glances. Finally, one of them couldn’t hold back. “Sir, isn’t this against protocol?”

“I’ll take responsibility,” Song Cheng said, his expression complicated as he exhaled deeply. “Take me to the surveillance room.”

“Right this way…”

…

The faint blue light screen before him vanished, leaving Yu Sheng intrigued by the advanced technology of the Special Affairs Bureau. His curiosity soon shifted to the bald man seated nearby, whose calm gaze betrayed neither joy nor sorrow.

The man looked up, his serene eyes reflecting an otherworldly wisdom. His voice was steady, as if transcending mortal comprehension. “It seems many things will unfold today. But you must realize, the Lord’s faithful servants will never answer…”

Before the man could finish, Yu Sheng stepped forward and swung the club with a decisive strike.

No need to answer anything.

He hadn’t planned to ask in the first place.