He is the leader of the Tantric sect in Chagdu.

"Beihe District Weather Forecast: No wind today. Wastewater will be discharged in an uninhabited area on the outskirts at 3:00 AM. Moderate to heavy rainfall is possible. The pH value of the wastewater will be between 2.1 and 3.5. The specific discharge location will be specially marked by the think tank. The public is advised to avoid the discharge area unless absolutely necessary..."

……

A petite figure crouched quietly under the giant GG sign, staring blankly at a small black cat in the corner. Her white-gloved hand had just reached out halfway when, in the next second, the black cat bared its teeth and quickly ran away.

"..."

The girl's expression remained unchanged, and she showed no sign of frustration. She pressed down on her top black hat, silently stood up, and adjusted her ill-fitting long trench coat.

The top hat and long trench coat didn't quite suit her slender figure, but that didn't matter anymore: the wide brim of the hat subtly revealed the flawless curves of her face and her long, silvery-white hair—two strands falling naturally from her cheeks, the rest carefully braided into small braids that cascaded down her neck, concealing a section of fair skin peeking out from the long collar.

Even without seeing her exact features, her beauty can be glimpsed simply from the blurred outline and overall aura against the background.

—Except for the slightly disappointing bust size.

"Sir... I don't know when the car will arrive, you can have a seat for a while."

A man dressed in black broke the silence. He sat listlessly on a bench in the waiting area, staring blankly at the empty tobacco pouch. Then he clicked his tongue in exasperation and said, "Tsk—two hours late again. Those parasites in the Ministry of Transport are getting more and more arrogant. They should be used to fill canning machines with their rotten bones. A bunch of scum born of degenerate races..."

He abruptly lowered his voice at the last few words, cautiously glancing at the silver-haired girl to make sure no one had heard his racially charged profanity before letting out a sigh of relief and whispering:

"Sir, why did we even come to this godforsaken place...?"

Having followed the girl in front of him for almost a year, Sherlock thought he had figured out his boss's behavior logic as a fairly competent subordinate, but he was still completely baffled by today's actions.

He couldn't understand at all: at the crucial moment when the "alpha" level secret incident occurred in the city of Beihe, the newly promoted "Executive" in front of him, who was also the fastest rising superstar in the history of the "Foundation", did not join the on-site investigation at the first moment, and did not even pay attention to the "vibration" that resounded throughout the entire Nest City - instead, he brought him to this godforsaken little station and took a train that was usually at least two hours late to the suburbs.

"Boss, that's a top-secret incident, something that might only happen once every few decades..."

Finally unable to contain his confusion, or perhaps it was the rebellious phase of middle age, Sherlock's next words didn't fit his "subordinate" persona. He tried to explain his understanding: "As long as we find even the slightest clue, or gather a trace of residual influence from that 'supreme divinity,' the seat on the 'committee' is beckoning to you, boss..."

He felt regretful—the "buzzing" that had descended upon the world an hour earlier had already caused a huge uproar within the foundation. Everyone had flocked to that small company like moths drawn to light, meticulously collecting every trace related to the "moth," both for performance and for the sake of that lingering "influence."

What do you think they'll find?

The girl's voice was clear and thin. She slightly lowered the top hat on her head to the side, revealing her pupils, which were a blend of pale green and dull yellow, like amber that had been squeezed and condensed into a misty surface.

"The moth, its code of conduct is always unpredictable and elusive, as is the influence it leaves behind—and my colleagues, those fools skilled in drinking parties and infighting, if they were capable of catching the moth's lingering echo, at least in the Northern River… I wouldn't need to worry about them too much."

Her voice was calm, yet it carried a deep disdain: "The Foundation's screening process for new employees in the city is becoming increasingly lax. In just this year, a bunch of incompetent fools have infiltrated the Countermeasures Bureau—the number of people has increased, but my workload has actually increased instead of decreased..."

"Tsk."

Sherlock's lips twitched slightly, and he said helplessly, "Sir, you can't let your colleagues hear these words."

This youngest executive in history looks like an innocent young girl, but her personality can only be described as wicked—don't be fooled by her innocent appearance.

Sherlock wisely shut his mouth and decided to obediently play the role of his henchman.

At that moment, a blinding light shone from the end of the track, accompanied by a sharp roar, causing even Sherlock to frown and cover his ears.

A severely distorted announcement rang out in the waiting hall: "Ding-dong—Dear passengers, welcome aboard the Beihe city center to the suburbs bus. It's a pleasure to serve you..."

As the dark silhouette appeared with the high beams, a wave of air and sound surged out from the narrow passageway. The old train had a powerful brake that was completely incongruous with its appearance—sparks nearly as tall as a person rose as the wheels and axles rubbed against the rails, almost splashing onto the girl. But she did not move an inch from beginning to end, watching this grand scene of arrival as an observer.

"The efficiency seems quite high, so why is it delayed?" Her focus was clearly different from others. She sighed softly and said quietly, "So it really is a human problem after all..."

The Ministry of Transportation in the lower city is also a bunch of useless bums.

"I'm gone."

Without looking back, knowing that Sherlock would catch up on his own, the girl stepped onto the still-unstable connecting platform and lightly leaped into the train.

As he stepped into the carriage, the name tag around his neck slipped out of the business card pocket on his trench coat, revealing several lines of personal information if you looked closely.

-Vertin

- Affiliation: Trinity Foundation, Special Countermeasures Bureau

- Authority and Function: Executive Officer (Level 3)

In addition, the card features a striking design that appears to be an inverted tree shape, consisting of a cross trunk and three complex circular structures.

The few people who were secretly glancing in this direction immediately averted their gazes upon seeing the emblem, their foreheads visibly beaded with cold sweat.

"foundation…"

The prying eyes or malicious intent from all directions melted away like snowflakes in an instant. Several obviously nervous passengers were already competing to see who could hang their heads the lowest, and were quietly inching towards other carriages with small, shuffling steps.

But the girl's gaze lingered on them for only a moment before she lost interest and began looking for a seat on her own.

At least in the lower city, the foundation's authority is not to be challenged by these "speculators" who operate in the gray area, especially when they encounter agents from the Countermeasures Bureau. If they are not clean themselves, they can only pray that the agents have important matters to attend to and do not have time to deal with them, these small fry.

Virtue didn't have time to deal with these minor characters, so she just recorded the names of a few people who were particularly nervous in the think tank and assigned them to the underworld in a few days.

"Wei sir, over here."

As a professional subordinate, Sherlock had already cleared out a reasonably clean spot. Watching the girl carefully hold up the hem of her trench coat and reluctantly sit down, he leaned against the railing and sighed helplessly.

"After all, it's a bus to the far suburbs... Sir, please hold on a little longer."

Veldin gave a soft "hmm" and turned to look out the window—the train had started moving.

"Boom boom boom..." Countless noisy sounds flooded the eardrums along the way, seemingly the swirling air currents of turbines, making one's limbs numb. Many strangely shaped vehicles left skewed tracks in mid-air, swallowed up by the skylight of the upper city through the gaps in the dome, and completely disappeared into the neon-colored night.

The old train was neglected and the windows were filthy beyond recognition. Once the train started moving, the colorful lights outside shone brightly in the stale air of the carriage, and even with your eyes closed, you couldn't escape the glare, which was quite unsettling.

What a terrible business trip environment...

"Sherlock, thank you for your hard work."

After a long silence, Virtue managed to utter something that Sherlock hadn't expected: "Actually, today was supposed to be your day off... I'm sorry to have troubled you to come with me to that godforsaken place."

"We actually have holidays?"

Having initially focused on the wrong point, Sherlock quickly steered the conversation back on track, remarking with admiration, "Williams... you've finally figured out how to win people's hearts."

This was, of course, just a polite remark. Sherlock quickly became serious, glancing out of the corner of his eye to make sure all the passengers in the carriage had left, leaving only the two of them. He then waited quietly for what would happen next.

Normally, the girl in front of him would never say such strange things. But Sherlock was also good at reading people: he could tell that as they got closer to the outskirts, Virtue was becoming increasingly uneasy.

Virtue herself quickly realized that something was wrong with her, so she took off her hat and covered her eyes to finally block out the irritating light.

She said softly, "If... if I stayed in the city and investigated the lingering effects of the moths as usual, I should have gained something."

"certainly."

Sherlock silently responded in his mind: his superior was the ace of the Countermeasures Bureau's dark side, a "Qi" genius who had entered the first door before he even came of age.

Her seed has successfully sprouted, and she has already made her choice in her inclinations, officially stepping onto the first step of the invisible realm: "The Tilted One." Her path, the "Gateway," is one that emphasizes strengthening reason, revealing, analyzing, and discerning.

The girl said she could find the echoes of moths, and Sherlock believed her; he had always trusted his young superior.

At this moment, Virtin seemed to be talking in his sleep: "But I didn't do that... Even though I was on the path of relying on reason and judgment, at that moment, I chose to trust my intuition—when the thought of tracking down the moth arose, I felt afraid..."

Sherlock asked solemnly, "Is it because of the 'moth' itself?"

"No." Virtue shook her head, pressing her hat down even tighter on her face, her voice unusually filled with confusion. "It's my own problem."

She said in a deep voice, "I always felt that this matter wasn't so simple... Moth, although it is an elusive supreme deity, did it rise from the bottom of the pool to the mortal world just to leave an impact?"

"I always felt that He had a purpose—contrary to the chaotic impression people have of Him, His actions this time were clearly directed. Was it for a search? Or a hunt? I don't know, but it's my intuition."

Sherlock opened his mouth, but couldn't say anything—as one of the most active and famous supreme deities, the moth had always been perceived by the Foundation as unpredictable and chaotic. Most people considered this ascent as a disturbance on its part, and with all the audio-visual equipment at the scene destroyed by the flapping sound, no one had yet investigated the unusual aspects behind this Alpha-level event.

Everyone was busy trying to catch the sound.

"I'm wondering... what exactly did He come for?"

Rational thinking clearly couldn't solve this unsolvable problem. Veltin sighed, took off her hat, ripped off her hair tie, and began to tidy her disheveled hair.

"That small company has been in chaos these past few days... Everyone's desperately trying to get in, and I hate joining in this frenzy. I'll wait until most of the idiots have left before considering getting in."

"So, we went to the outskirts to avoid the heat?"

"Hmm..." Veltin mumbled, biting the hair tie in her mouth. "Besides the moths, there's a bunch of old grievances waiting to be settled. The outskirts have been much quieter lately, so it's a good time to wrap things up."

Sherlock stroked his chin: "The Mirror of Radiance?"

Mentioning the name, the girl's voice deepened: "Mm."

Thinking about this mess, the middle-aged man sighed, "I never thought that the esoteric sect that had been entangled with us for more than half a year would collapse on its own... It's truly lamentable."

Without a word, Virtin opened the think tank panel in front of him and accessed the secret network inside the Executive Bureau. The top line, "Alpha-level event: The Supreme Divine Moth Emerges and Appears in the World," was particularly eye-catching, occupying most of the homepage.

A quick glance at the forum interface revealed numerous casual posts from colleagues, mostly discussing the recent "buzzing" sound.

Without lingering, she bypassed the forum's access archive, skillfully scrolled to the Tantric section, and searched for keywords in the pinned "δ" category, which was the highest event level in the Tantric section. After searching for a while, she belatedly realized that the entry related to "Mirror of Radiance" had been downgraded to the "ε" category due to declining attention, and was further fading from view.

(α→β→γ→δ→ε→ζ)

Just three months ago, it was a thorn in the side of the enforcement bureau.

Virtue quietly browsed through the files in front of him, files he could practically recite from memory:

"Mirror of Radiance: Secret Societies, Large-Scale Cults"

"Hume's Tree Loss Assessment: ε"

Activity Area: Outskirts of Beihe

Size: 10-65 (1 is the standard size for a tantric sect with 20 people)

"Honored by: Radiance (?), Secret Transmission: Unknown, Secret Ritual: Unknown"

"Acquisition Method: Bathed in Light (Lost Path, Name to be determined, Demand unknown)"

"Entry completion rate: 31%. More information is pending. Expand—"

Below that are the records left by investigators from different generations.

Anonymous (one year ago): "Finally, I learned their name, 'The Mirror of Radiance,' a secret society entrenched in the remote suburbs, discreet, quiet, yet dangerous. In a very short time, without any disturbances, they have become the mysterious authority there, and all voices against them have fallen silent—unbelievable. We need more information about them."

Investigator 1435 (eleven months ago): "The investigation is in trouble... The Mirror of Radiance, their actions leave no trace, their influence is untraceable, their power is obscure and invisible - after a week of hard work, we have only captured a few fringe believers. The subsequent interrogation will use the Truth-Spitting Ritual. Hopefully this time... at least we can peel back their veil."

Attachment (two days later): "The prisoners died, on the morning before the formal interrogation. Despite being in a mysteriously silent environment, a ray of light shining through the cell window evaporated their cranial fluid—a mysterious magic fueled by some unknown catalyst. We had no choice but to use technical means to forcibly reconstruct the dead men's brains, and only one name remained: 'The Great Mentor Bathed in Light'... Perhaps this was their leader."

"(Ten months ago) the first attempt to clear out the area failed, and all the investigators and security personnel sent out went missing—the think tank recommends that this file be moved to the 'ε' section and await a response."

"Committee: Passed"

-

Investigator 1544 (six months ago): "I saw the figure of the Radiant One... incomprehensible, mysterious like a toy in his palm, radiance flowing in his eyes... I was burned, red liquid evaporated, yet it was as if I had been promoted, the great and unique Radiant One, he seemed to have forgiven me, is that so? That is it..."

"Note: One of our investigators (ID1544) had close contact with Mentor Muguang, and this is the last record he transmitted—"

"The radiance seeped from the cracks in the red liquid, penetrating everywhere, like the bloodstains flowing from the neck of the Heavenly Throne, like dried ointment… I followed behind the one bathed in light, seeing his shadow on the ash wood, as magnificent as a giant. I was immersed in the radiance, and sometimes I heard the wandering light whispering hoarsely in my ear, beckoning me, that I should gild it with a base color—that is gray light, our light…"

"(Four months ago) During the third cleanup operation: all 14 investigators and 51 security officers in charge of the operation, along with their subordinate combat units, went missing. The accompanying Grand Inquisitor was confirmed dead. This file has been added to the 'δ' category. The think tank proposes adding a priority countermeasure sequence for 'Mirror of Radiance' and a 'Taboo' nomination for 'Mentor of Light.' Awaiting response."

"Committee: To be discussed"

For a long time afterward, no investigator edited this entry.

Until three months ago, the "Radiant Mentor" suddenly disappeared without a trace, and there was no sign of him since. The Mirror of Radiance went from its peak to decline, and then vanished without a trace in a short period of time.

Like a fading dream...

Virtue's gaze lingered on the most recent comment for a long time.

Anonymous Investigator (Latest Post, Two Months Ago): This nightmare of the Origin Light... has finally come to an end, it's all over.

"Note: Mentor Muguang has been confirmed missing. The Mirror of Radiance has been put into an inactive state, its stealth level has been downgraded to ε, and it has been removed from the priority event sequence and is pending archiving."

...

Is it really over?

In this illusory transformation, lacking any crucial process, Virtue felt a profound sense of unreality. She drifted into a daze until she heard Sherlock whisper in her ear:

"That mentor, perhaps he's dead? Most likely dissolved in the Great Sacrifice Pool... That's how esoteric cultists are. Some lucky ones may be powerful enough, but their understanding of power is primitive and simplistic, and their attitude towards knowledge is arrogant and frivolous. As long as they delve into some in-depth research, their madness will lead them to their doom."

Sherlock looked down on that mentor, Mu Guang, but Virtin didn't think so.

"He's terrifying."

Sherlock froze on the spot; it was the first time he had ever heard such a comment from a young girl.

Veltin slightly closed his eyelids, and if you were close enough, you could see his beautiful amber pupils contracting violently: "Mentor Muguang... he's terrifying."

"..."

The girl from the Upper City once held a sense of superiority over everything in the Lower City. The Foundation here was an empty shell, corrupt and inefficient. The occultism here was primitive, dull, and full of loopholes—like a speedrun game, Veltin thought she would soon rise to the top, obtain a seat on the "Committee," and then return to the Upper City.

Until she received the mission to take over the task of "eliminating the Mirror of Radiance" from the Countermeasures Bureau, the confident girl, with an arrogant attitude of "you are the challenger!", secretly launched a decapitation operation against the Radiant Ones.

She confronted that mentor directly.

This was a rare instance of Wilting experiencing fear and frustration.

The girl never mentioned to anyone that in that devastatingly unrecorded beheading operation, which failed so completely that it wasn't documented by the think tank, she was driven to the brink of despair by the cult leader. Her schemes and backup plans vanished like bubbles in those azure eyes, leaving no room for what could even be called "resistance."

The girl recalled those eyes and was uncontrollably drawn into that memory, feeling a slight tremor run through her.

—That man's expression was like the remains of a pine tree that had been burned to ashes, the bones of charcoal; his eyes were soft and clear, like a "lighthouse" in a stormy and rainy night, piercing through the darkness of ignorance in the tides, and scattering the ruthless brilliance in equality and arrogance.

She was imprisoned in a dimly lit basement, curled up in the abyss of despair. Although she was unharmed, she was like a small animal with its limbs broken. Stripped of her halo, she turned back into a weak girl, only able to guess her fate in fear and helplessness.

"I will keep today's story a secret forever..."

The Radiant One told her this calmly, as if he had only won a trivial game: "After I leave, no one will know what happened here. You can continue to be that high and mighty executor. One day, the entire North River... even the Lower City, will operate according to your will. You will also be able to climb to a higher position and look down on everything that once was."

"And I... only need your gaze to witness this final moment."

The gray, humanoid silhouette, though not tall, even petite, exuded an unparalleled sense of oppression. He approached Veltin inching closer, and under the girl's trembling gaze, he placed a radiant, heart-pounding light—like the blazing sun—into her mouth.

The girl was enveloped in heat and suffocation, and heard the still gentle whisper from the one bathed in light:

"I won't ask you to call me mentor, but at this point, I still need some respect. I hope you can address me as such in public..."

Mr. Gray.

Then, her blue pupils rapidly magnified from top to bottom in her view—

...

"Wei sir... Wei sir!" Sherlock shook her shoulders.

As if waking from a dream, Veltine shakily pulled herself out of her reverie, her trembling eyes meeting Sherlock's worried gaze. Her hand was pressed against her chest, and even though several months had passed, she could still feel the still-growing heat in her heart.

"I'm fine."

Realizing her lapse in composure, the girl took a deep breath, quickly regained her composure, and resumed a proper and elegant sitting posture. Then, she slightly opened her mouth, as if to say something—

"There are plenty of seats here, come here, come here..."

A commotion suddenly broke out at the connection between the carriages, accompanied by the chaotic sound of footsteps on the metal sheets. Three figures of varying heights appeared at the end of the corridor.

Sherlock had already silently stepped in front of the girl—

"Strange, all the other carriages are packed with people, but this one is so empty..."

The woman at the front, who seemed quite boisterous, approached Virtin and his companion with a friendly demeanor and greeted them, "Hello... May we sit here?"

Sherlock was about to say something when Virtin spoke up:

Please make yourself at home.

...