Yu Sheng beat with great care.

He first meticulously beat the cultist's left leg with the Wolf Fang Club, then meticulously beat his right leg, followed by his two arms. Aside from being careful to avoid the restraints installed by the Special Service Bureau, he repeatedly hammered each part until they were soft and bouncy.

At first, the Angel Sect believer was stunned by the beating, then he began to scream and curse, occasionally emitting sounds that didn't seem human, mixing sharp screeches with layered noises, as if something else was hidden within his seemingly human shell. That thing tried to struggle out but was repeatedly beaten back by Yu Sheng.

Then the cultist began to resist, or struggle to dodge, but his entire body—including inside—was fitted with suppression devices from the Special Service Bureau. The binding rings on his joints prevented any large movements, and the nerve suppressors inside him made it difficult to concentrate on casting any spells.

Occasionally, his struggles were so intense that he nearly broke through the restraint and suppression devices. At such times, Erin would intervene. Her dark threads, which could even control the terrifying "Wolf Grandmother" and the "Hunger" empowered by the Dark Angel, could easily control a weak, bound human.

After an unknown amount of time, Yu Sheng finished his beating, wiped the fine sweat from his forehead, and, holding the Tetanus Wand, sat down on a nearby bed. He nodded to Hu Li, "Heal him."

"Okay!"

Hu Li immediately responded, stepping up beside the Angel Sect believer. She raised her hand and drew several arcane and complex talismans in the air, then placed her hand above his head—all the while, a faint golden-red glow emanated from her eyes, and the severe wounds on the cultist began to heal rapidly before everyone's eyes.

Erin watched with wide eyes and couldn't help but marvel, "Hey, silly fox, that's quite impressive... I didn't believe you when you mentioned you could heal back at home since I never saw you use it."

"Normally, there's no need," Hu Li glanced at Yu Sheng, her tone seemingly a bit resentful, "Erin doesn't need healing, and the Savior didn't make it in time for me to heal."

At the same time, the almost unconscious Angel Sect believer slowly began to wake. This previously aloof bald man, who had seemed composed as if he had seen through life and death, now lay bloodied, his clothes tattered, looking utterly wretched. However, as Song Cheng had mentioned, he endured all the physical suffering without any hint of begging for mercy. He only glared at Yu Sheng, eyes filled with anger and disdain.

Yu Sheng appeared indifferent to the cultist's gaze. He simply picked up the club and walked over, his face calm as he stared at him.

"Foolish and crude," the cultist lying on the ground grinned, blood slowly seeping from the corner of his mouth as he spoke with a hint of mockery, "Do you know what great suffering we overcame to pursue the truth? Do you know how much our will can endure?"

"I don't know," Yu Sheng shook his head, "I'm just doing this for fun."

The next second, under the cultist's slightly stunned gaze, Yu Sheng once again lifted the club high.

Thrice thus, thrice healed.

The healing glow gradually faded away, and the fainted Angel Sect believer opened his eyes once more.

He saw the mysterious "interrogator" sitting on the opposite bed, the terrifying club resting beside him. The "interrogator" wore his usual calm expression with a slight smile, quietly watching.

There were no questions, and no answers were needed.

The cultist panted heavily, although his body had healed, a type of "injury" more frightening than physical wounds seemed to have pierced through the barrier of rationality, etching deeply into his soul blessed by the Envoy. He stared hard at the smiling "interrogator," desperately trying to discern his intentions.

The Envoy's blessing of Spiritual Vision should theoretically allow him to see through many things—he had used this vision to see through every previous interrogator's tricks, every fault in the hypnosis, even the illusions and false memories the Special Service Bureau's dogs had created in his Dream Realm through neural stimulation and brain injections. This blessing's power had helped him withstand all interrogations thus far.

Yet at this moment, staring at the figure sitting on the bed, he suddenly found... the figure had disappeared.

He saw only a dark hole, pure, void, endlessly deep, like a Death Void.

The torn Death Void floated in his sight, and in the extreme nothingness, a touch of sneering laughter seemed to appear. The void grew larger and closer in his vision, eventually seeming to swallow the entire world.

Even the whispering voice of the "Lord" seemed to be squeezed out and isolated by the void.

The Angel Sect believer gasped even more violently, a nearly forgotten emotion quietly revived in his heart, a question surfaced and rapidly expanded within his consciousness, repeating over and over:

What does it want? What does this void want to know? What's its purpose?

The void answered, answering the question raised within his consciousness—

It wanted nothing, it needed no response.

The void floated closer.

The quietly revived emotion throbbed intensely—ah, it was fear.

Fear is not because of the torment on the flesh, but because of witnessing that ultimate void and desirelessness—the Angel Sect believer suddenly awoke and saw the void collapse back into the shape of the interrogator.

He instinctively shrank his neck back,

And within less than a second of shrinking his neck, this cultist felt a sudden surge of alarm: Not good!

But it was already too late.

A strange, chilling sensation suddenly struck him. This chilling sensation was not unfamiliar to him; previously, when he struggled, that eerie puppet had used cold threads to bind his body—but this time, the cold sensation didn't come from his limbs but directly pierced his consciousness, even stabbing into his soul.

The cultist struggled to lift his head and vaguely saw the floor crawling with "hair." Black threads, like writhing strands of hair, spread everywhere, drilling into his body, and the other end of this "hair" was connected to that short, curse-doll-like puppet—she raised her hands, a hint of a smile appearing in her blood-red eyes.

She opened her mouth, mouthing the words: "You're scared."

The next second, the entire world plunged into darkness.

The bald cultist fell to the ground, abruptly losing consciousness as if suddenly falling into a deep sleep.

Yu Sheng walked over and cautiously prodded the other person's thigh with the Wolf Fang Club, confirming that he had no intention of waking up. Only then did he turn around and glance at Erin, who was carefully controlling the black threads, "So you're really 'dragging him in' like this?"

"Of course, don't you see who did this?" The little puppet's face showed a proud smile but quickly furrowed her brow, "But to be honest, it wasn't easy. Usually, when I force people into the dream realm, it's not this troublesome—this guy's mind is nearly flawless, incredibly resilient. Just now, he suddenly panicked a bit, giving me the chance to catch him."

"After fighting for so long, it's normal for him to panic a bit, right?" Yu Sheng thoughtfully looked at the unconscious cultist, murmuring to himself as he casually placed the Wolf Fang Club by the bed, "But I'm also quite surprised at how resistant this guy is."

Saying this, he shook his head and looked at Erin, "Alright, let's not think too much about it for now. How's the situation? Has your dream invasion stabilized? Can you pull people in now?"

"Almost," Erin cautiously controlled the black threads extending over the cultist and nodded at Yu Sheng, "Lie down beside me; I'll pull you in. But be careful once inside, don't make too much commotion. He doesn't know he's dreaming yet, and if the sense of disharmony is too strong, he might wake up."

"Don't worry, I know what to do."

Yu Sheng said, then lay down on the small bed in the cell, calming his breath.

"I'm ready."

Sitting at the edge of the small bed, Erin lifted her other hand, gently touching Yu Sheng's forehead.

Erin's small hand was soft, with a human-like warmth—but the next second, a sudden chill swept over.

The black spider silk instantly penetrated flesh and blood, pulling Yu Sheng's consciousness into the chaos.

Amid the dim and surreal chaos, Yu Sheng glimpsed a series of illusions, many bizarre scenes flashing before his eyes, and then he saw a phantom "web"—black threads interwoven, outlining a spiderweb-like structure. In the center of this web was a blurred shadow with blood-red eyes, meticulously weaving dreams…

Yu Sheng's consciousness fell towards the center of the web, seeing the shadow with blood-red eyes raise an arm and grasp two threads—one of those threads extended from Yu Sheng's perspective—the shadow brought the two threads together and quickly tied them into a bow.

"…No need to be so meticulous." Yu Sheng muttered drowsily.

"Bows look nice." The shadow spoke with Erin's voice.

The next second, Yu Sheng opened his eyes again.

He found himself walking in a dilapidated warehouse, wearing unfamiliar clothes, everything around him covered in a layer of hazy veil.

Footsteps echoed in the warehouse, sounding hollow and somewhat distorted.

Some indistinct noises echoed in his ears, like sounds directly emitting from his mind.

After a brief moment of bewilderment, Yu Sheng instantly realized—

He was now hiding in a memory of that Angel Sect believer.

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