Forbidden Zone of Deception

Chapter 224 Takamiya Yui

The monk's robes were soaked in ink, and he stood there like a statue of death, frozen in time.

Time seemed to freeze at that moment.

Huikong felt a chill run from the soles of his feet straight to the top of his head, his blood freezing. Ning Caichen also froze on the spot, his eyes behind his glasses widening instantly!
There is absolutely no such monk in the temple!

In the midst of this extreme fear, the black-robed monk outside the window moved.

He actually bowed very slowly and with very small movements towards the two people inside the room!
The movement was stiff and strange, like a marionette being pulled by invisible strings!

Huikong's mind was struck like a thunderbolt, and he immediately thought of the fifth rule of the temple!
He immediately yanked Ning Caichen, yelling, "Kneel down! Quickly!"

The two of them were so flustered that they almost fell to the ground, kneeling down with a thud towards the window, their foreheads pressed hard against the cold floor!

The two of them shouted in distorted voices, each trying to outdo the other:

"Your disciple is dead!"

"I'm dead! I'm already dead!"

Huikong kept her eyes tightly shut, feeling intense fear coursing through every pore of her body.

Time ticked by, and there was no sound outside the window, no footsteps, only deathly silence.

Then, Huikong mustered her courage, her head trembling slightly, and glanced out the window out of the corner of her eye—

empty.

The view outside the window was empty. Only the usual scenery of the courtyard and the blurry shadows of trees in the distance.

The terrifying black-robed monk vanished without a trace, as if he had never been there at all.

"They...they're gone?" Ning Caichen also looked up at the scene outside and breathed a sigh of relief.

Huikong collapsed to the ground, panting heavily, a feeling of exhaustion from surviving a catastrophe washing over him.

He felt as if he had just walked through the gates of hell!
The monk's face just now didn't look like a living person at all!
“He…he really did follow the rules…” Huikong murmured to himself, his voice hoarse, “We followed the rules, so…so it let us off the hook for now?”

But this did not bring any sense of security; instead, it felt like a cold shackle, completely welded to his neck.

Rules can save lives, but breaking them can mean certain death.

This temple is filled with countless such bizarre and deadly rules.

Ning Caichen then said, "We said we were dead, and then we were let go... Does that mean that in his eyes we were ghosts? That's why we were let go?"

If we follow Ning Caichen's logic, then... wouldn't that black-robed monk also be...?

“We have to find a way…” Huikong grabbed Ning Caichen’s arm. “We can’t go on like this! We must find the truth, find hope! Otherwise, we might not be so lucky next time!”

His gaze fell once more on the crumpled rule sheet, his finger pointing to the fifth rule regarding the color of monks' robes. His voice was rapid with excitement: "White-robed monks! The rules mention white-robed monks! 'If you encounter a monk wearing white robes, you may ask him for directions, but do not follow him.'"

He looked up abruptly, his eyes flashing with a mixture of fear and desperation: "Benefactor Ning! You just said that you have never seen a white-robed monk in the temple, right? I have never seen one either! What does that mean?"

Ning Caichen pushed up his glasses, trying to calm his breathing, and followed his train of thought: "The rules are written down, but no one has ever seen them... That in itself is very strange."

“That’s right!” Huikong’s voice was even lower, but even more excited. “And that Nie Xiaoqian, the first rule emphasizes that there is no such person in the temple, yet they solemnly wrote down the countermeasures! We saw the black-robed monk, he was terrifying and eerie; the white-robed monk was nowhere to be found; Nie Xiaoqian doesn’t exist at all… Benefactor Ning, don’t you think these might not be any specific ‘person’ or ‘ghost’ at all!”

He looked around, as if afraid of being overheard by something unseen, and whispered, “They might all be… symbols! They might be different manifestations of that ‘pollution’… the terrifying ‘being’ lurking deep within this temple! They might be part of ‘its’ rules! The black robe represents death and the threat of imminent death, the white robe… the white robe might represent some kind of inducement or trap? And the name ‘Nie Xiaoqian’ might be the ‘symbol’ that triggers some kind of extreme situation!”

This conjecture sent chills down his spine, yet it perfectly matched Huiming's terrifying whispers about "pollution" and "rules."

“I have a different idea,” Ning Caichen said, taking the rule sheet. “The rules specifically mention that you can ask the white-robed monk for directions…”

"Are you kidding me?" Huikong waved his hands repeatedly: "If I really encountered it, I would just want to stay as far away as possible, I wouldn't dare to get close!"

"What if...this is actually a way out? Didn't you want to find a way to escape Lanruo Temple?"

Huikong was taken aback.

"Asking for directions... well, what directions can you possibly get?"

"Well..."

Meanwhile, in the guest rooms inside Lanruo Temple.

A group of people are gathered together, discussing what to do now.

Leading the group was Feng Ya, whose expression was cold and stern, his eyes sharp as he carefully inspected every corner of the guest room to ensure that a simple barrier had been set up to block sound and interfere with detection.

"Is everyone here?" Feng Ya scanned the arriving reincarnators.

"Commander Feng, according to the intelligence provided by the Nirvana team, just how bad is the situation inside Lanruo Temple?" a scarred man asked in a low voice.

Feng Ya's expression was solemn, and his voice was low and clear: "It's very bad. According to the current intelligence, the spatial structure and rules inside the temple are extremely unstable, which is a clear sign of high 'meme contamination'. Simply put, all the 'common sense' of the material layer may have been distorted. What you see, hear, or even touch may not be real, and it is very likely to trigger an instant death mechanism."

He paused, then emphasized, "Therefore, we must be extremely cautious now. No anomaly, however slight, can be ignored. Most importantly, we must try to abide by the known 'rules' and not challenge them lightly before we have a clear understanding of the situation."

Another female reincarnator frowned and asked, "Fengdui, I heard that the Insect Nest team might also get involved?"

Feng Ya sneered: "Hmph, I really hope they come. However, their expertise in witchcraft will be greatly suppressed here, and may even backfire. The temple's power seems to automatically purify and eliminate those Gu worms. Even if they come, their strength will be greatly reduced, so there's no need to worry too much. But we still need to be wary of them resorting to desperate measures."

"So what is our action plan?"

"The initial plan is to split into two groups. One group will provide support and monitoring of memes and anomalies on the periphery; the other group, led by me, will attempt to explore the memes inside Lanruo Temple and, if possible, map the layers of contamination within. Remember, safety first. In case of any incomprehensible situation, prioritize self-preservation and evacuation!"

Inside the temple, in the kitchen.

Huikong and Ning Caichen stood by the stove, watching their senior brother Huichi—the abbot's Dharma name for the chubby senior brother in charge of cooking, who seemed somewhat dazed and confused about anything other than cooking—busily preparing ingredients for tomorrow.

“Brother Huichi,” Huikong tried to make his tone sound natural as he pointed to a large basin of bean products soaking in the water, which were to be used to make vegetarian meat, “That…that meat-imitating dish at noon was made so realistically, the texture was almost indistinguishable from the real thing.”

Without looking up, Senior Brother Huichi kneaded the dough vigorously with his strong arms, chuckling, "Right? I made it all with tofu, gluten, and mushroom stems. The key is the heat and seasoning."

Ning Caichen chimed in, "Senior Brother, you must have been a professional chef before, right? This skill is far superior to ordinary temple vegetarian meals." Mentioning this, Senior Brother Huichi slowed his movements, a complex emotion flashing across his face, a mixture of nostalgia and bitterness: "Hmm… Before becoming a monk, I worked as a chef at the Regent Restaurant in Hong Kong, specializing in vegetarian banquets. Later… alas, I was framed, accused of using animal fat in my dishes, ruining my reputation, and I couldn't stay there anymore…"

He shook his head, said no more, and continued to knead the dough vigorously, as if venting all his emotions onto the dough.

Huikong and Ning Caichen exchanged a glance. Senior Brother Huichi's reaction was natural, reasonable, and justifiable.

They took the opportunity to carefully inspect the kitchen.

Large and small basins were filled with soaking dried tofu, dried bean curd sticks, wood ear mushrooms, and shiitake mushrooms, while baskets held fresh vegetables such as cabbage, bok choy, and amaranth...

Everything looked perfectly normal; there was no suspicious meat, and nothing as bloody or terrifying as one might imagine.

Was everything that happened at noon really a collective hallucination? Was it some kind of "demonic illusion"?
Just as Huikong's resolve wavered and he was about to doubt himself, a calm and even voice suddenly rang out from behind him:

"Looking at it this way, you can't see any problem."

Huikong suddenly turned around and saw a strange young monk standing behind him.

He was tall and thin, with a handsome face, but his eyes were exceptionally clear as he quietly watched them.

“Because these foods, in the ‘material layer,’ are indeed just tofu and vegetables,” the stranger monk continued, his gaze sweeping over Huikong, finally lingering for a moment on Ning Caichen, a barely perceptible hint of inquiry in his eyes. “But in the pollution layer, it’s a completely different story.”

Huikong was taken aback and asked warily, "Who is this senior brother? I don't think I've seen you before."

The young monk clasped his hands together in a gesture of respect, his tone completely calm: "This humble monk is Huijue, and I work as a handyman in the kitchen."

He continued, "The 'scenes' you see all happen in the 'contamination layer.' This is not an illusion, but a 'reality' received on another level after cognition has been distorted."

Huijue's words were so profound and mysterious that they left Huikong even more perplexed and bewildered.

"Material layer"? "Pollution layer"? What exactly do these mean?
"The materialist level is the purely material level, and matter is stable. But this is not the only reality..."

Just then, Senior Brother Huichi rudely interrupted their conversation, waving his hand impatiently at Huijue: "Huijue! You're spouting nonsense to the new junior brother again! Go away, don't bother me! Huikong, Benefactor Ning, don't listen to his ramblings either, he's always talking nonsense!"

Huijue was driven away by Huichi, but he did not argue. He just looked at Ning Caichen deeply again, his eyes filled with complex and unfathomable emotions. Then he turned around and left the kitchen without saying a word, and his figure quickly disappeared into the shadows of the corridor.

Huikong and Ning Caichen were left standing there, looking at each other in bewilderment.

Huikong's emotions, which had just begun to calm down, were once again thrown into turmoil by Huijue's strange and incomprehensible words.

Materialism? Pollution? Cognitive distortion? Another level of truth?

What terrifying and incomprehensible truth lies hidden behind all of this?

Huijue silently followed Huichi to a secluded corner behind the kitchen where firewood was piled up.

At this moment, the amiable expression on Huichi's face vanished instantly, replaced by a strong sense of malice.

He stared at Huijue with eyes as sharp as a venomous snake and said, "Gao Gongwei, what did you mean just now? How many times have I warned you not to act rashly or cause trouble! Did you ignore my words?"

Huijue… or rather, Takamiya Yui lowered her eyelids and answered in as flat a tone as possible, “I’m sorry. I just noticed that the characters in the story seemed to have noticed something amiss with the ‘contamination layer’…”

"Sorry?" Hui Chi sneered, taking a step closer. "Don't forget who you are! Our old nuclear energy can give you new life, or it can make you vanish in an instant!"

Gao Gongwei harbored resentment in his heart. He was constantly thinking about how to escape this crazy organization and refused to associate with these terrorists who treated human life like dirt.

As his thoughts drifted, he suddenly recalled childhood memories. It was the era when Hong Kong films were all the rage in Japan. On television, Leslie Cheung played the refined and devoted Ning Caichen in "A Chinese Ghost Story," while Joey Wong portrayed the melancholic and exquisitely beautiful Nie Xiaoqian.

Leslie Cheung enjoyed immense popularity in Japan, where his singing and acting captivated countless viewers. In 2003, when he learned of the tragic news of Leslie Cheung's death by falling from a building, he, then a primary school student, felt genuine sadness and regret for this foreign star, a sorrow he still vividly remembers.

However, the terrifying instance he is currently in, the [Lanruo Temple], is no longer the romantic world of Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio in the movie. Instead, it is a terrifying instance that has been completely distorted by the reincarnation system and is filled with indescribable pollution and deadly rules.

What was once a classic has been transformed into a chilling reality here, even more bizarre than before.

"Hmph, don't give me that deadpan look." Hui Chi's voice pulled him back from his memories to the cold reality. "I know what you're thinking. But I advise you to give up those unrealistic ideas as soon as possible. Our organization is determined to get this instance. If you cooperate obediently, you might still have a chance to survive."

Gao Gongwei remained silent, but his hands, which were hanging under his monk's robe, clenched slightly.

Huichi seemed to have said enough, and softened his tone, asking instead, "So, based on your observations, what's the next step? Do you think we can find any clues to a breakthrough from these corrupted monks?"

Gao Gongwei took a deep breath, forcing himself to analyze the situation calmly. He had to play along for now: "These monks... they are both victims and, to some extent, part of the 'rules,' or rather, carriers of 'contamination.' Their cognition is distorted, their behavior is bound by the rules, and direct contact is extremely risky, potentially triggering an instant-death mechanism. I think... it's not advisable to proactively contact them to extract information for the time being."

Hui Chi narrowed his eyes: "That's right, that's what I thought too. So, let the other reincarnators test the waters first. Aren't several groups already gathered? Nirvana, the Temple, and perhaps the Black Sparrow Pavilion in the shadows... Let them touch the rules first, to trigger those 'anomalies.' We just need to observe, record, and analyze. The old core's advantage lies in information and concealment, isn't it? Let them pave the way and collect data for us."

His last sentence carried a subtle hint of sarcasm.

Huichi then patted Gao Gongwei on the shoulder with considerable force, carrying a warning tone, "Do a good job, Gao Gong. The Old Core Organization will not mistreat useful people. But don't forget, everything you have, including your life, belongs to the organization."

After saying that, Huichi turned and left.

Gao Gongwei remained alone by the woodpile, his hatred and anger surging like magma, yet he suppressed it all.

He was utterly disgusted by these terrorists from the old nuclear camp who treated human lives as bargaining chips and had no bottom line.

He couldn't help but think of his childhood.

My father runs a small kendo dojo in his hometown in Yamaguchi Prefecture. Although it is not large, it adheres to traditional teaching methods.

Their ancestors were samurai of the Choshu Domain. Although the exact time is too long to be verified, this sense of tradition is deeply ingrained in the family atmosphere.

He grew up amidst the clash of bamboo swords, absorbing not only swordsmanship skills but also the core of Bushido's spirit, which his father often emphasized: "righteousness," "courage," "benevolence," "propriety," "honor," and "loyalty."

His childhood dream was to become a true samurai, a warrior who upheld justice and protected the weak.

However, as he grew older, he gradually came to realize that in modern Japanese society, the so-called samurai had long lost their place and were more of a cultural symbol or spiritual emblem. But deep down, he always firmly believed that the true spirit of Bushido—the spirit that emphasizes loyalty, integrity, honor, martial spirit, and honor, rather than the so-called "Bushido" that was distorted and used as a tool of aggression by the militarists of the Showa era—is the soul that the Yamato people should cherish and should never be extinguished in any era.

It was this deeply ingrained belief that prevented him from succumbing to the tyranny of the old regime. Bowing to terrorism, betraying justice and humanity, would be the greatest desecration of the samurai spirit he upheld.

"Absolutely... I cannot yield." He muttered to himself, a resolute glint flashing in his clear eyes, like a samurai sword hidden within his Reincarnator watch. He had to endure, he had to wait, waiting for an opportunity to break free from control, even to launch a counterattack.

Before that, he needed to observe the eerie temple more carefully...

(End of this chapter)