Chapter 241: 240 Plans and Nightmares

Your invitation just now was incredibly stupid!

After Li Ang's interview invitation was flatly rejected by the female reporter, leaving him to depart with a look of regret and board the public carriage back to the Cleanup Bureau, the Black Goat immediately squeezed out of the window glass, chattering excitedly for a few moments before sighing in disappointment:

If you wanted to set a trap to catch her, you could've just invited her to your home for the interview—or to Ryan's place. Then, whether it was Emma or the Red-Haired Chief, with a planned strike against an unsuspecting target, catching her would've been effortless.

But you specifically invited her to the Cleanup Bureau for the interview. That woman's a rebel, a Water Bearer operative, and still nursing serious wounds—she's running from you as fast as she can. Why would she ever come to the Cleanup Bureau to interview you?

I was watching from inside the chandelier glass the whole time. The moment you invited her to the Cleanup Bureau, her face turned pale. The second you looked away, she stole glances at you with clear suspicion—she's already onto you!

After spouting all that, giving Li Ang's impulsive invitation a damning assessment of utter stupidity, the Black Goat smacked its lips, unsatisfied:

Kid, now do you see how vital I am?

If I'd been able to pop out just now and whisper a warning to you, you wouldn't have spooked her. Now, after this, setting a trap for her again will be much harder. What a waste!

Yeah, yeah, you're right, you're absolutely right!

Li Ang glanced sideways at the Black Goat, then calmly asked while jotting down the newly acquired intelligence in his small notebook:

"Do you think it's possible I never intended to capture her at all?"

"???"

"A live spy whose identity is already exposed is far more useful than a dead one caught in your hands."

As he continued writing, Li Ang answered without looking up:

"If she's still in contact with the Water Bearer Director, we can feed her false intelligence through her—or even use her to track down the Director's whereabouts. Isn't that more useful than capturing her?"

That's… true…

After pondering for a moment, the Black Goat nodded slightly, though still grumbled:

"If you weren't planning to catch her, then why mention the Cleanup Bureau at all? You just invited her there—she's already suspicious, thinking you're setting a trap!"

"It's better that she's suspicious."

Recalling the intelligence he'd just seen, Li Ang frowned slightly, paused his charcoal pencil, and spoke with palpable pressure:

"She's a Level One Cleanup Agent. According to the Chief, an elite like Emma, under extreme circumstances, could destroy half the capital in a single day. She could probably kill me with one glance."

Someone with that kind of destructive power and unknown tactics is far too dangerous. Jerry's friends can track her movements, but they can't stop her from causing destruction. Only the Chief himself has a chance of subduing her immediately."

"And you know the Chief's situation—he can't possibly abandon all his other duties to spend every moment watching her. The safest course is to make her wary enough not to act recklessly, but still hopeful enough to avoid fleeing outright."

"..."

In just that short time, you've already thought this far ahead?

After hearing Li Ang's plan, the Black Goat clicked its tongue, suddenly feeling this kid was slightly unfamiliar.

After gradually gaining power and being "corrupted" by Emma and the Red-Haired Woman, Li Ang had transformed completely—he was no longer the angry, naive boy he once was.

This bastard's heart has grown darker than ever. He's now accustomed to setting traps for others, and his methods have become as convoluted as the Cleanup Bureau's—his mind is stuffed with twisted, crooked schemes; his shit probably comes out threaded with screws.

"Fine."

With clear malice, the Black Goat glanced at Li Ang's backside before asking curiously:

"So what's your next move? Head straight back to the Cleanup Bureau and wait for Emma and that Red-Haired Woman to return?"

"As for what comes next..."

Li Ang paused, thought for a moment, then circled something on his notebook with his homemade charcoal pencil, hesitating:

"First, return to the Bureau and brief Jerry. Then, go to Princess Wang Nuwei to break off the engagement."

The sun had set.

As the light faded, the embers and dust left by war spread like streaks of dark gray paint, painting shadow after shadow across the narrow alleys and streets.

After several brutal, back-and-forth battles, the once-thriving city had been reduced to ruins. Cracked streets revealed broken mechanical parts; collapsed buildings leaked gray-white, acrid steam from shattered pipes.

Dust, smoke, ash, rust, blood, cries!

A desolate and fierce wind howled through the alleys, dragging the chaotic, smoky, charred air into the lungs of survivors, stinging their eyes until tears streamed down their faces—as if the war-torn city itself were mourning its own death.

This is...

Recognizing the shattered city before him—though he'd only visited once, it felt unbearably familiar—Veronica, who now looked six or seven years younger, froze, then bit her lip hard.

This was her dream. The ruined city ahead was Cornwall City, the former capital of Ryan County, utterly destroyed by war.

Six years ago, during the National Defense War, the Kingdom and the Ice Realm's mechanical forces fought eleven brutal battles for Cornwall City, reducing its once-prosperous streets to ash. Even counting those who fled early, over half the population still perished.

What she now saw was the morning after the sixth battle—just before the Ash Kingdom launched its seventh assault. The next two hours would become the deepest nightmare of her life.

Though she desperately resisted moving forward, the Princess trapped in the dream had no control over her actions—she could only follow her past self, accompanied by a large escort and ten battlefield medics, heading toward the ruined factory at the end of the alley.

It was a sugar refinery, repeatedly bombed. Cornwall's Rainbow Candy had once been beloved across the Kingdom, the very image of rainbows in children's dreams.

After six rounds of battle, the once-sweet factory now lay half-collapsed. Steam still hissed from ruptured pipes in the shattered walls, and broken machinery lay scattered everywhere.

Contrary to the charred ruin around it, the factory floor was flooded with vividly colored syrup. Inside the ruined storage room, dozens of civilians who hadn't escaped waited—hopelessly—for rescue that would never come.

In the dream, the Princess heard weak cries for help. She urgently ordered her guards to pry open the door, even tore apart the warped frame with her own hands and rushed inside first.

The last rays of sunset streamed through broken windows, casting dappled light across the half-destroyed room. A child, sticky with filthy syrup, clutched a doll and timidly looked up at her. Beside the child were thirty-odd survivors.

Seeing her mission's target, the dream-Princess exhaled in relief and smiled warmly. But the Princess who knew she was dreaming stared at the doll in the girl's hands—its face half-shattered, its expression twisted into a mournful smile—and bit her lip until it bled.

"Boom!"

With a tearing hiss of displaced air, hundreds of alchemical fuel bombs, trailing blinding white flames, ripped through the crimson twilight and slammed into Cornwall's streets. The half-collapsed sugar factory vanished into rubble; the vibrant syrup below erupted into a roaring sea of orange and yellow fire.

"No!!!"

Just as the brilliant flames were about to fully erupt, the Princess in her sleep jolted awake, sitting bolt upright on the bed.

Even though she'd escaped the dream, even though she'd broken free from the nightmare that had haunted her for six years, her thin nightgown was soaked through with cold sweat, clinging to her skin and sending shivers through her entire body.

"Huh..."

Weakly leaning against the headboard, she gasped for breath until her heartbeat steadied. She didn't try to sleep again. Instead, she rose, drank a glass of ice-cold water, then sat at the desk, opened the unfinished documents, and silently picked up her feather pen.

The Curse of the Nightmare King.

Every direct royal descendant, upon reaching adulthood, is tormented by nightmares for life—repeatedly reliving their deepest regrets and sorrows in dreams so vivid they feel real.

But perhaps this is better.

After finishing the document in front of her, the Princess turned to look at the smiling tin doll on the shelf behind her. She fell silent for a moment, then picked up another document.

The Curse of the Nightmare King is painful—but it constantly reminds her, ensuring she never forgets what happened, never forgets what she must do.

As the Princess wrote furiously, the pile of documents on her desk slowly diminished, while the oil in the lamp grew steadily lower.

Just as the lamp gave a soft "pop," its flame flickered, and a soft knock came from the door.

"Your Highness? Are you asleep?"

"Not yet."

Picking up tweezers, she rolled the wick to brighten the dimming lamp, then continued reviewing documents as she asked gently:

"What is it?"

"Princess Veronica... your relative... uh... Mr. Li Ang is here. Would you like to see him now?"