Chapter 35: The Vulture

Roger nodded and recorded this information in his notebook.

Then, an intelligence investigation prompt suddenly appeared.

【【The Woman Who Made a Pact with an Ancient Being】 Intelligence Investigation completed】

【You witnessed a sorrowful scene: SAN Value -3, Spirit Vision +1】

【Reward obtained: Ancient God's Bronze Coin ×1, $50】

【New Anchor Point +1】

Roger didn't understand what condition the system used to judge the intelligence investigation complete—he had learned so little, so why did it suddenly declare completion?

Did the system not need him to uncover the truth behind Zhu Di's disappearance?

Roger silently nodded, thinking it made sense—after all, $50 wasn't worth risking your life!

Even the police couldn't solve it; how could he?

He wasn't Sherlock Holmes.

Just as he was about to leave, Madame Jie Kui Lin suddenly glanced at the clock, then leapt to her feet, her cloudy eyes fixed rigidly on Roger.

"Have you ever seen a true god?"

"No," Roger replied, startled.

"Then you're lucky, boy. Come, let us welcome the god's arrival!"

Madame Jie Kui Lin's lips curled into a sinister smile, then she suddenly collapsed onto the floor, contorting her body in a posture defying human anatomy as she knelt before the unfathomable idols.

She suddenly convulsed, emitting a scream like a rat being strangled; then the sound shifted into muffled guttural muttering, while a chilling whisper began to spread from deep within her hoarse throat.

"The time has come… you promised… beyond the mist…"

"Give me… show me the secret beyond death…"

"Look—this living blood… this warm flesh… all offered to you…"

"Don't take me… take this husk… but let me… just one glance at my daughter!"

Saying this, she picked up a knife and slashed open her wrist, letting blood drip into the bowl before the idol.

"Ward fuck."

Roger's back prickled with cold sweat from the horrifying sight.

He dared not look again, slipping quietly toward the door, terrified that another glance would drain his SAN Value to zero.

Fortunately, Madame Jie Kui Lin was utterly absorbed in the ritual and didn't notice the man's departure.

When he closed the door behind him, Roger looked out at the bright sun and sighed with genuine relief.

Luckily, the system hadn't settled his SAN Value after witnessing Madame Jie Kui Lin's actions—otherwise, it should've dropped by more than three points.

But he had to admit, the neighbors were right.

Madame Jie Kui Lin was completely insane—even more so than Juan.

Roger wiped the cold sweat from his back, then mounted his bicycle and rode away quickly.

In the afternoon, after delivering over a dozen takeout orders and earning $40 in tips using his Camouflage skill, Roger dragged his weary legs back to the garage.

Though exhausted, at least it helped dispel some of the shadow left by Madame Jie Kui Lin.

The old woman hadn't severely damaged his SAN Value, but her strange expression, tone, and posture remained etched in Roger's mind, impossible to forget.

"Perfect—my nightmare material just got updated."

Roger let out a bitter laugh, about to exercise and clear his mind, when his phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Are you Aodisi's friend?" came a sharp, young male voice from the receiver.

Roger's eyes lit up: "Yeah, you're Aodisi?"

"Yeah, I'm Aodisi—the Aodisi who goes for an hour straight!" The man's tone was manic, as if he'd just taken a stimulant.

According to Roger's understanding, things people boast about excessively are usually false.

After all, if an hour were routine, it wouldn't be worth mentioning.

So it was reasonable to assume this Aodisi was a weakling who relied on drugs just to maintain his state.

But Roger still played along: "Cool, man, how'd you do it?"

"It's simple—talent, you get it? Talent!" Aodisi was flattered, his voice growing excited.

Roger feigned regret: "I guess I don't have that kind of talent. Guess I'll just have to earn more money."

"Exactly! Earning money is also a talent—money gives you endurance!"

"So… I can do business like Aodisi?"

"Of course! Aodisi's friend is my friend. Come to this address—I'll tell you in person. It's a big deal; can't discuss it over the phone."

"No problem."

Roger had just written down the address when Aodisi hung up.

"Shit, you didn't even say when!" Roger hated these erratic guys.

Aodisi was clearly high, lost in his own world.

So he thought for a moment and decided to go tomorrow morning instead.

He didn't want to face a bunch of junkies while choking on the stink of weed.

"Back to training!"

"One, two, three…"

Roger did eighty push-ups and two hundred squats in one go, then picked up dumbbells for a muscle workout.

By eight p. m., he leaned back in his chair, holding his phone and searching for information about Madame Jie Kui Lin's claims.

First, the Seattle Times—they had indeed reported Zhu Di's disappearance, but the content was bland, offered little evidence, made no reasonable speculation, and simply echoed the police.

Next was Zhu Di's workplace, the Daisy House Private Clinic.

However, there was very little information about this clinic online; all they knew was that its founder was Al Griffin, a renowned spine doctor.

After Zhu Di's case, this private clinic shut down.

Roger was searching online when Mrs. Fiona suddenly came over to call him for dinner.

……

"Did you go deliver takeout again today?" Natasha greeted the man as she walked in, sitting at the dining table.

Roger nodded: "Yeah, there were quite a few orders today, but fewer people tipped."

"A bunch of cheapskates," Natasha muttered in sympathy, placing a fork beside his hand.

"Thank you." Roger sat down, looked at the mapo tofu bacon pasta in front of him, and exclaimed: "Mrs. Fiona, you've now surpassed ninety-nine percent of Meilijian people in your use of this chili sauce."

"Really?" Mrs. Fiona looked at him in delight: "I just thought it would taste better this way."

"Hmph, it's all your fault," Natasha complained. Before the chili sauce, Mrs. Fiona used to make sandwiches with strawberry jam and chocolate sauce.

But ever since tasting the chili sauce, Mrs. Fiona suddenly found sweet flavors too mild, and now this chili sauce appeared in every meal.

If Natasha wasn't careful, she'd get a mouthful of heat and frantically drink milk.

Roger shrugged and gave the girl an apologetic smile.

"Alright, children, let's eat!"

Mrs. Fiona finished everything, sat in her chair, closed her eyes, and clasped her hands together.

"Lord God, Heavenly Father, bless this food, amen."

"Amen."

Roger murmured a quick response, picked up his fork, and began eating the pasta.

After dinner, while Mrs. Fiona washed the dishes, Natasha winked at him and whispered: "Want to come see my room?"

"What's going on?" Roger asked, puzzled.

"You'll find out when you come in—I won't tell you beforehand."

"Uh." Roger glanced at Mrs. Fiona's busy back: "Five minutes."

"Hmph, I didn't beg you to come!" Natasha snapped: "Fine, don't come if you don't want to."

Roger looked at the pouting girl and sighed: "Alright, alright."

"Hurry up," Natasha walked ahead into her room.

Roger thought for a moment and said to Mrs. Fiona: "I'm going to help Natasha fix her desk, Mrs. Fiona."

"Alright."

Mrs. Fiona nodded, signaling she understood.

Roger finally exhaled and walked to Natasha's door.