Chapter 68
When Ye Yihe woke up on the large bed in the Palace of Consciousness, he vaguely thought he was in a dream.
After all, in reality, there are no ceilings like the starry night sky, nor flickering candlelight floating in the air, burning quietly.
Looking around, the decorations clearly incorporate religious elements that symbolize precepts. Large, elaborate, and ornate dark brocade tapestries and curtains not only conceal the walls but also create an indescribable sense of weight and majesty, as if some God is truly watching over this place.
Yehe had little knowledge of religion. The few parts of the Bible he remembered were either what he heard when he was a deacon or what Fyodor read to him, all in Greek. He could barely recite them and had only a superficial understanding of their meaning.
But at this moment... Ye Yihe, staring at the slowly shifting stars above his head, was lost in thought for once.
Or perhaps he should go find a Bible to read?
Anyway, this is Fyodor's palace of consciousness, a manifestation of his past life, so he won't lack the Bible.
The only problem was that the versions of the Bible Fyodor knew were probably all in Greek... Did he really have to learn Greek on his own in order to understand the Bible?
Ye Yihe lay on the bed for a long time, clutching the blanket, and decided to take a look. It wouldn't hurt to just take a look.
We can't expect Fyodor to be completely bewildered and confused every time he hears him reciting passages from the Bible, just like a netizen who's out of touch with current trends.
Therefore, learning another Greek language wouldn't be a bad idea... Anyway, Fyodor's memory is too good, so learning more while he can is a bonus.
Having made his decision, Ye Yihe then focused his attention on sharing his body's visual and auditory senses.
[…………]
Ye Yihe spoke softly, "[You'd better give me a reason why you won't turn on the lights again tonight.]"
What's wrong with this guy? He keeps doing his old habits whenever no one's watching him!
"Ah, you're awake."
Fyodor raised his gaze slightly, landing on the void, as if conversing with someone who did not exist before him, "May you have a good dream."
Don't think you can get away with using polite language with me.
Ye Yihe, frustrated by Ye Yihe's lack of progress, was clearly not buying it.
[Do you think you can just ruin your eyesight because you think you have good eyesight? Who do you think is responsible for the fact that you're not out of breath after every step? It's me. Who has been slowly working to improve your anemia, which caused you to feel dizzy even on an empty stomach? It's still me.]
[What did you promise me last time? Take care of this body, take care of it!]
Ye Yihe's voice, filled with such rage it was almost clenched through his teeth, echoed in Fyodor's mind, yet all he could do was smile.
I'm sorry.
Fyodor readily stepped back, sounding obedient and docile.
But Ye Yihe had developed resilience and wouldn't soften his stance on matters of principle. [Dinner? You didn't eat either, did you?]
“That Mr. Oda Sakunosuke brought over dinner.”
Fyodor blinked slightly, which finally calmed Ye Yihe down a little after hearing the answer.
[At least they still know to eat.]
After watching Fyodor get up and turn on the light, finally bringing illumination to the room, Ye Yihe asked him, "[How long did I sleep?]"
Since the first lesson, Ye Yihe has never dared to stay outside until Xiao Ai issues a warning. He often lets Fyodor control his body during various times when he is alone, while he lies on the big bed in the Palace of Consciousness, relying on sleep to restore his mental strength.
In this situation, he doesn't sleep for long periods of time, and the intervals between falling asleep and waking up are extremely random; unlike ordinary people who can sleep for eight or nine hours straight, he wakes and sleeps intermittently, as if a fragment is embedded in the gap between consciousness and reality.
Sometimes, he could exchange a few words with Fyodor or just glance at what the other was doing, to prevent the little mouse from making any noise that he hadn't noticed in time.
But this time the fatigue came very suddenly, and he didn't even wake up once during the journey... which made Ye Yihe start to worry whether his mental state had dropped to the alert level again.
Hopefully I didn't sleep for too long this time, or at least not for months.
"It was just one afternoon."
Fyodor turned his gaze to the date and time displayed on the computer screen so that Ye Yihe could also share this view, “About five hours.”
[I only slept for such a short time...]
Ye Yihe muttered in surprise, then raised his voice to emphasize, "[That's no excuse for not turning on the lights!]"
He would probably be even angrier if he knew that Fyodor's dinner was forced upon him by Oda Sakunosuke, rather than the latter actively seeking out food to fill his stomach.
"Yes, I will listen to you."
Fyodor's voice carried a faint hint of amusement as he maintained a humble and obedient demeanor, offering no defense of himself.
But Ye Yihe knew that this guy was just saying nice things; humph, he would revert to his old ways as soon as no one was watching.
"Are you coming out?"
Ye Yihe remained silent, and after a brief period of quiet waiting, Fyodor took the initiative to ask him again.
It seemed that as long as Ye Yihe nodded, he would voluntarily hand over control of his body.
[No... I won't come out yet, it's almost bedtime anyway.]
Ye Yihe shifted her position on the bed, her thoughts still languid, tinged with a satisfied haze. [I can keep sleeping... You didn't secretly do anything behind my back this afternoon, did you?]
Finally, still feeling uneasy, he asked Fyodor a question.
Although he wouldn't really tell him if this guy did something bad... he'll ask Oda Sakunosuke later.
"Actually, I just prepared a surprise for you that might be helpful in the future."
Fyodor gently rubbed his thumb against his knuckles, which were throbbing with a dull ache, and chuckled softly.
"I hope you will like it."
Ye Yihe, instantly on alert, stammered, "...Hmm?"
A surprise? What could possibly be considered a surprise for him? Could it be that someone could give him three or four hundred resurrection points all at once?
The key question is... how do I give him this surprise?
Ye Yihe was not puzzled by this question for long.
Because this surprise came uninvited a few days later.
They will even knock on the door on their own initiative.
"Ta-da! Nikolai's magic tour, the final stop, in Yokohama—um, excuse me, what's the address here again?"
With a swagger, Gogol casually tossed his light cloak around his neck, then carefully removed his hat and placed it to his chest. He bowed to the crowd as a basic courtesy, and even his opening remarks were swaying with an air of nonchalance.
When he looked up, you could see his heterochromatic eyes curving into a smile, just like the magician's suit he wore, which incorporated elements of a playing card clown, and was also unconventional and casual with an asymmetrical black and white base.
It had been a long time since I'd seen him, and he had grown even taller. The silver braid at the back of his head had also grown much longer, with a small red pom-pom at the end swinging back and forth with his movements. It was clear that he was in a very good mood.
Never having seen such a white, sunny puppy before, Chuuya, who came to open the door, was so shocked by the sight that he froze on the spot.
The others weren't much better off; they all stared blankly at the uninvited guest.
Upon hearing that distinctive tone of voice, Ye Yihe secretly gasped.
He's that extreme liberal enthusiast who claims to be a normal person but keeps pestering that psychology PhD to reveal his dual personality!
He was deeply impressed by the handsome, silver-haired boy who was also from Russia like Fyodor.
Fyodor said he accepted the invitation and joined the House of the Dead, right, how could he forget that... So they're colleagues now? Accomplices?
Why did Fyodor call him over? And he still says he didn't cause any trouble...!
"Ah, this is the address..."
In the long, stunned silence, only Oda Sakunosuke honestly answered his question.
"I see! Hmm, then please allow me to reintroduce myself,"
Having received his answer, Gogol happily tossed his cloak again, casually removed his hat, and bowed once more. "I am Nikolai Vasilyevich Gogol Yanovsky. You may call me Nikolai or Gogol, oh, but, but..."
At this point, he looked up at Ye Yihe with a smile and winked, then playfully added, "My dearest friend, my dear Fedia, you must call me Kolya!"
Ye Yihe, who was suddenly in the center of attention, said: "...Koria."
He knew that Koria was Nikolai's nickname, just as Fedia was Fyodor's nickname; both were nicknames that only very close people would be allowed to use.
I thought our last meeting was just a fleeting moment, but I didn't expect the other person to still remember me...
After all, Gogol has been a member of the House of the Dead for so long, there's no reason for him to specifically emphasize the issue of address to Fyodor now—unless Gogol can also distinguish between him and Fyodor.
"That's right, I called them over."
With Dazai around, Ye Yihe took a deep breath and took the blame for Fyodor, thinking that "he might be able to help in the future."
Upon hearing this reason, Dazai Osamu propped his head up and let out a soft hum with a slight smile, like a cat making a low, soft meow when suddenly picked up.
"They've come to help..."
He asked, "Are you a powerful superhuman?"
"Oh, I'm so sorry, he's a very skilled magician."
Gogol corrected his adjective, and the magic wand that was planted on the ground was tossed into the air and caught accurately, and then twirled in a clever and beautiful flourish.
"Magician, yes, I remember seeing your performance on TV."
Dazai Osamu tapped his chin with his fingertip, seemingly lost in thought. "You're quite famous for escape, penetration, and displacement magic... especially escape magic. You seem to be particularly adept at perfect escapes that no expert can find any flaws in."
"I didn't expect to have fans here too, phew, there's nothing I can do about it."
Gogol strode in with a beaming smile, conjuring up a lollipop for Chuuya along the way, as magically as a magician snapping his fingers to produce a coin.
—This was probably the first time Chuuya had ever seen magic as a performance, and he was still a little dazed, instinctively taking the lollipop in his hand.
Despite Gogol's sudden change in personality, making him seem completely unlike a Russian, he surprisingly took off his shoes at the entrance, adhering to local etiquette.
"Let me sign my name for you. Hmm, where would you like it signed? Any other requests?"
Gogol sat down next to Dazai Osamu, snapped his fingers, and produced a marker from who-knows-where, the whole process going smoothly.
"Oh, can I really get an autograph?"
Unexpectedly, Dazai Osamu was also very interested on the spot, and actually took out his notebook and started flipping through the blank pages. "Just sign here, and write the message: [May Dazai Osamu commit suicide without pain as soon as possible]. Please."
"……Um?"
Gogol's pen stopped in mid-air. It was the first time he had ever heard of someone wanting to commit suicide, and so eagerly awaiting its arrival.
"You actually came up with the idea of physical suicide... Are you also pursuing true freedom?"
"Freedom?" Dazai Osamu's iris-like eyes curved into a smile, his tone also playful. "What are you talking about? All I pursue is suicide. Want to join me?"
He could tell immediately that Dazai Osamu was fooling him.
"Oh dear, to decide to defy one's survival instinct just to prove one's personal will? It's tempting, but I can't do it,"
Gogol shook his head in refusal, looking extremely regretful. "I still have a mission to complete, what a pity—so, shall I sign here? Is it okay if I sign this big?"
The person's emotional leaps from regret to joy in an instant were completely illogical.
Not only was he somewhat silent, but Ye Yihe was also encountering this type for the first time.
He could hardly imagine how Gogol would help; the other man seemed incredibly unreliable, like a happy Samoyed acting as a watchdog, even raising its paw to shake hands with a thief.
It's also hard to imagine Fyodor standing next to him... It feels like his dangerous aura as a gloomy villain would be diluted.
"Phew, thanks for the autograph, Gogol-kun," Dazai Osamu said contentedly as he put away the notebook. "Well then, I'll have to ask for your help with the next part of the plan."
He's been busy eliminating the Holy Staff lately, so he's naturally happy to have another helper—especially since the other person's identity and abilities are indeed quite useful.
"Has Dazai already made any progress?" Ye Yihe asked.
"Almost," Dazai Osamu had also gotten a lollipop from Gogol and was slowly peeling off the foil wrapper with his fingernail.
"We've finally found a legislator who hates cults to the core, whose thinking is easy to manipulate, and who also has a certain degree of influence. This is truly a hard-won achievement."
It was indeed very difficult. He and Oda Sakunosuke terrified a group of Yokohama's political elites, assassinated a group, coerced another group, and finally found a suitable candidate.
"The information obtained from the Special Abilities Division is also very comprehensive,"
Having learned his lesson from being burned by Odasaku's spicy curry, Dazai Osamu cautiously licked the dark candy first, muttering under his breath, "It's actually honey cola flavored," before continuing his previous conversation.
"Our opportunity to act will come when the [Holy Heaven's Staff] organization holds its next gathering."
Ye Yihe thought for a moment, "When is the next time?"
Dazai Osamu, with a lollipop in his mouth, pointed to the sky and said, "Full moon." — His pronunciation became a little unclear.
"When the full moon rises, that is when they organize sacrificial ceremonies."
…………
Strictly speaking, the "Holy Heaven Staff" religious organization based in Yokohama has not formed a sect with secular influence; it is simply adept at using the name of religion to extort money from believers.
Not to mention the organization's founder, the leader whom believers call Master Takano, who is himself an esper who is extremely skilled at forging miracles.
What kind of sights would ordinary people mistake for miracles?
Aside from deliberately mystical psychological guidance and suggestion, the simplest method is to show believers scenes that violate the laws of nature.
The latter is extremely difficult, but the effect is far better than the former—and coincidentally, his superpower excels in this area.
"Great Violence—Great Destiny—Great Radiance—Invincible Venerable One—Radiant White Flame—Radiant Divine Assembly—Homage to the World-Honored One—"
In the mountains and forests outside the city, there is an observatory that has been carved out by man. The chanting sounds are layered and alternating, like some kind of secret code.
Or rather, describing this place as an observatory is not quite accurate, because what is placed in the center of the platform is not an astronomical telescope, but a huge, rising bonfire; and those kneeling around it are not astronomy enthusiasts, but believers draped in linen cloaks.
Like blooming lotus flowers, they knelt and worshipped in layers around the carefully built bonfire, their hands clasped together with their thumbs upright and joined—as they were raised high one after another, from a distance they looked like many flames clustered around the bonfire.
This is a grand ceremony, a ritual to welcome the revered master who, through the fire of the moon wheel, retrieves the lotus and light for them, bestowing upon them the mantra of empowerment and the transmission of secret teachings.
According to Master Kono, when he passes through the white fire and returns from the moon, those who are fortunate enough to touch this light will have all their evil karma, sins, and afflictions purified, be spared from suffering for countless lifetimes, and possess great wisdom.
However, not every believer is qualified to participate in this ceremony. They must first pass some kind of "trial" and pay some "insignificant" price in order to pass His judgment and become "fire purification protectors" and follow Him to perform the monthly initiation ceremony.
Even believers who doubted that this guru was a fraud would be so shocked when they saw him emerge unharmed from the fire that they would cry out in amazement and become fanatical believers.
Elite politicians within the government are more or less aware of the existence of superpowers.
But this Master Kono was ruthless in giving money and held a large number of votes, so what else could they say? Who would pass up more power and money?
Therefore, the leader of this religious organization gradually dressed himself in a more religious manner—wearing a half-robe robe, a lotus-shaped hat, and a jingling staff in his hand.
As a pretentious "respected teacher," he certainly seemed to have tried hard enough, even his appearance was kind and benevolent, seemingly genuinely pitying the suffering beings.
"The grand ceremony went very smoothly,"
The staff was raised high, and as if imbued with a spirit, a cluster of pure white flames spontaneously ignited in its center, just as incredible as his ability to emerge unscathed from the campfire.
Just as the believer was reaching out with fervent devotion, Master Takano, who was about to bestow flames upon the flames with an air of superiority, heard a dismissive, soft chuckle.
“Oh, I see. Usually, spontaneous combustion of phosphorus is accompanied by a bright white light and smoke, and the flame is white with a bluish-green tinge, unlike the soft white flame you showed.”
"If you want to use nitromethane to burn and get a pure white flame, its ignition point is as high as 418 degrees Celsius, and you need to add methanol to ignite it. It's not as convenient as you've described."
"So it seems that it really is a miracle at work?"
Speaking of miracles, the disdain and mockery in his words, and the deliberately drawn-out tone of his youth, made it clear to anyone that he didn't take his respected teacher seriously at all.
Master Takano did not show any panic.
Although the believers made a quiet commotion, they were probably used to troublemakers and simply stayed put to watch.
He smiled as he looked at the group of uninvited guests coming up the mountain road. “There are always people who doubt the power of [Holy Heaven] Aliya. I don’t blame you.”
He encountered this kind of questioning quite often, and if he got angry every time, it would make the title of respected teacher seem too cheap.
Sometimes, he even welcomes such criticism.
Because he did not achieve all this through any chemical or deceptive tricks, the repeated questioning only made his pure fire appear more sacred and unshakable.
Is the leader a black-haired boy...? Why are his right eye, neck, and hand wrapped in bandages? Is he injured?
Master Takano glanced at the group of people who had come. Apart from the boy with bandages, there was another silver-haired youth wearing a cloak, who had rather rare heterochromatic eyes and was showing him a kind of indescribable joyful smile.
Behind him followed a young man with long silver hair, but with a more indifferent expression; his tall stature made him appear quite upright and elegant, but he seemed uninterested in all of this.
He seemed to be looking in a certain direction, where perhaps someone else was secretly observing?
It doesn't matter if a few people come to observe. Since the Port Mafia fell, his power has risen to become the leader, and even if other forces unite to attack him, they can't hurt him.
Because his followers are still around, he has no fear of running out of opportunities to exploit.
Master Takano gave a subtle signal, indicating that the core members of the organization with military capabilities should remain in ambush and await orders. They were to act at his command should any unforeseen circumstances arise.
However, if only this black-haired young man raises questions, then he would be quite easy to deal with.
Master Takano thought to himself.
"Is that so? Then I'll just have to question you."
He heard the black-haired boy raise a hand and point straight at the tin staff that was burning with white flames.
“If I don’t see the fire burning up close, no matter how many times you demonstrate it, I’ll still think it’s fake. If you’re not sure, you can come over with your staff yourself.”
"As you wish."
Master Takano readily agreed.
He could never be exposed for demonstrating flames in person, no matter how many times he did it—because he was a fire-type ability user.
Whether it's performing a feat of emerging unscathed from flames or conjuring flames out of thin air, it's all effortless for him.
He watched as the dark-haired boy stepped over the layers of kneeling worshippers and stood face to face with him—then extended his five fingers and grasped the tin staff as well.
"Alright, let's begin."
As Dazai Osamu spoke, his iris-colored eyes crinkled into a sly smile.
"Let me witness your [miracle] once more."
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