Chapter 636: Chapter 599: Do You Understand the Meaning of Life? Do You Really Want... to Live? (Part 2)

As the most beautiful member responsible for appearances in the housekeeping team, she embraced the spirit of selfless dedication.

Not for the salary paid by the company, but for the tips given casually once the hosts were pleased.

Bear in mind, this extra income did not need to be shared with the company.

"Only 9?"

The special agent’s mood instantly soured, feeling slightly slighted.

He, the dignified special agent, yet the housekeeping company only sent him 9 servants? Who did they think they were slighting?

"Can’t even gather ten people, and can only proceed with the first [Evil Sacrificial Ceremony]?" The special agent felt a pang of melancholy.

But, perhaps one time would suffice, start by testing the waters.

The special agent’s gaze was indeed drawn to Cuihua, and he chuckled inwardly:

"This woman keeps trying to catch my eye with seductive gestures, oh well, I admire ambitious people, the first opportunity shall go to her."

He beckoned to the maid, then turned back to head towards an entertainment room on the second floor.

The entertainment room was spacious, with walls and doors filled with the best soundproofing materials, ensuring excellent privacy, perfect for some... activities not suitable for children.

Seeing the special agent’s gesture, Cuihua’s face instantly flushed with excited redness; she swayed her slim waist and pert hips, quickly following, fearing a missed step would let the opportunity slip away.

The other servants watched the scene dejectedly, eyes swirling with envy and hatred. At this moment, regardless of gender, the same thought unbidden arose—"I could take her place!"

Cuihua entered the entertainment room, thoughtfully closing the door behind her.

The special agent had her stand in the center, scanning her up and down with a glance, murmuring:

"A bit too thin, not sure if there’s enough blood; the altar might need to be smaller."

Cuihua couldn’t hear this, but could feel the increasingly fiery gaze of her "master," as if wanting to strip her bare.

She felt both nervous and excited, blushing, slightly lowering her head, adopting a shy stance, awaiting the "favor" to fall on her.

The special agent didn’t rush to take action; there was a crucial preliminary step yet to be completed—feeding iron!

The ceremony required that before the official sacrifice, the offering be fed with ten pounds of iron.

But after sweeping through the villa, he frustratingly found no iron products.

Iron, a crude material used only by the poor, while the wealthy used silver, gold, jade, and glass; finding a piece of iron inside the villa turned out to be quite difficult.

The special agent naturally wouldn’t personally go to the hardware store to buy it; pondering, he could only make a phone call to Feng Ju.

In the Lower City, he sorely lacked reliable people, counting everything, only Feng Ju counted as half a confidant, alas, his abilities weren’t up to par.

Once, he could leverage his family’s influence to mobilize the Investigation Corps.

The child of the Corps Commander, Zhou Jian, was particularly accommodating to him, always at his beck and call; but later, soon enough, he frequently couldn’t get through when calling Zhou Jian.

Although Zhou Jian always courteously returned calls to apologize, explaining tasks within the Hidden Sect.

But then, the special agent wasn’t foolish, sensing Zhou Jian seemed to avoid him, with an avoid-like-the-plague attitude, leaving him perplexed.

In the bushes outside the villa district.

The abrupt ringtone of a vibrating phone pierced the bushes outside the villa district.

Feng Ju picked up the phone, holding his breath in concentration.

However, the voice of the special agent on the phone left him stunned.

"What stuff, ten pounds of iron?"

Feng Ju almost thought he misheard, needing confirmation:

"Did you say iron, special agent? Oh, okay, any kind of iron will do?"

After a silence lasting three seconds, more detailed instructions followed:

"The most expensive iron, the kind you can eat."

"Buy the most expensive edible iron you can find."

After the call ended, Feng Ju frowned.

Ordinary people probably wouldn’t understand the special agent’s request but utilizing his "Detective" power, Feng Ju quickly deduced the truth.

His "Detective" abilities couldn’t see through his son but could understand the special agent?!!

Flipping his cold lips, Feng Ju murmured:

"The most expensive iron, and edible too; this is the requirement for the [Evil Sacrificial Ceremony]? Truly mystic and unimaginable!"

Feng Ju reached a conclusion:

"The ten pounds of iron should be swallowed into the offering’s stomach, so edibility is a necessary part of the [Evil Sacrificial Ceremony], while ’most expensive’... is probably just the special agent’s preference."

Wisdom glinted in Feng Ju’s eyes; he’d found the first piece of the puzzle concerning the [Evil Sacrificial Ceremony], but it was far from enough, he needed more pieces.

Looking around, naturally, the vicinity of the villa district showed no sign of a hardware store.

He had to pull out his phone, use navigation to guide him somewhere further to make the purchase.

Both pricy and edible iron wasn’t something found in a hardware store, let alone a purchase of ten pounds.

Feng Ju didn’t foolishly follow special agent’s orders verbatim; upon entering the shop, with utmost speed, he pointed out the iron beads on the shelves.

The iron beads were slightly larger than common pills, with a smooth surface, perfect for swallowing.

Forty-five minutes later.

Feng Ju returned to the villa with a heavy bag of iron beads, handing the bag to the special agent.

He intended to follow the special agent closely, desiring entry into the entertainment room.

But at the doorway, the special agent suddenly turned and raised a hand to stop him:

"Guard the door; don’t let anyone else intrude on me."

The door shut unceremoniously.

Feng Ju was left standing there, face clouded with uncertainty: "..."

(There should be BGM here: "I should be inside the door, not outside~")

In a fleeting instance, Feng Ju only managed to glimpse a woman standing inside.

Cuihua watched curiously as the special agent carried a black bag inside, then saw the special agent gripping a pen, continuing to sketch a strange pattern on the floor.

She knew the wealthy had quirky tendencies, but after watching for some time, she still couldn’t discern what the special agent intended.

If this was a pretentious prelude, forty-five minutes was overly lengthy.

When the special agent finished the last stroke and compared carefully with a sheepskin scroll, before squatting to adjust some of his work, Cuihua began sensing something was amiss.

The next moment, her wrist was abruptly grasped tight, the pen nib slicing through her skin, causing blood to surge forth.

"Draw using your blood, following the pattern on the floor!"

In the maid’s terrified gaze, the special agent wrote a line using the bloodied pen on the wall beside.

At this moment, Cuihua suddenly realized—the special agent had prepared a draft for her to mimic.

However, the cost of this "mimic" was indeed her blood...

Panicked and confused, Cuihua watched the special agent open the plastic bag, catching handfuls of iron beads.

Fifteen minutes later.

Cuihua lay in a pool of blood, barely alive, her once slim waist and abdomen now swollen.

Her vision gradually blurred, seemingly through a haze, a distorted face appeared hovering from the ceiling, looking down on her.

Suddenly, mechanically cold voices echoed by her ear:

["Do you wish to understand the meaning of life? Do you want to truly...live?"]

The voice was chilly, mechanical, devoid of warmth, seemingly spanning vast distances, tinged with an inhuman chill.

Cuihua didn’t answer this question; she didn’t know how.

The meaning of life, she had never pondered.

While lingering at death’s door, she still thought:

"Which of the 113 additional services would this count under? Am I dying? But I haven’t received the tip..."

The special agent stood in the corner, eyes bloodshot.

He fearfully discovered the ceiling engulfed by black mist, seemingly connecting to another realm, as bizarre, evil eyes peered from the darkness, scanning the room coldly.

Those eyes defied description; the pupils had no fixed form.

Sometimes pure black, absorbing all light; at times a stark, still bone white; periodically igniting into scorching, blood-like red.

The trio of colors endlessly spinning, transforming, flowing... like a maze of countless kaleidoscopes, emitting ultimate wickedness and coldness.

Just catching it in his peripheral vision sent shockwaves through his spirit, as though his entire soul detached, ready to be sucked into those eyes.

"Evil Sacrifice? Did the Evil Sacrifice truly respond!!!"

The special agent’s lips felt numb, as a tumultuous shock swept through his mind....