Divine Oracle [Transmigration] (ORACLE)
The woman was placed on the operating table.
Song Si's hands were still trembling as he performed basic first aid on her gunshot wound to the left shoulder. Then he turned on the surgical light and touched the side of her neck.
The area was burning hot, as if something was squirming beneath the skin. Terrifying veins crawled across her entire neck.
A sharp pain pierced Song Si's brain. An energy wave surged into his body, no less intense than an infrasonic wave attack. It rushed through his blood vessels straight to the crown of his head.
His body seemed to transform into a lifeless sensor—or perhaps a straw for sucking blood. The excess energy was drawn into his brain, where some dormant "creature" awoke, feasting greedily and spreading its wings in satisfaction.
The bright red hue quickly faded, and the writhing in her neck ceased.
Like a drowning person pulled from the water, the woman gasped sharply and her body jerking forward before she began gulping air into her lungs in huge, desperate breaths. Her nearly stopped heartbeat restarted.
Song Si swayed in his chair, only to be steadied by a firm grip on his shoulders from behind.
Four voices spoke up simultaneously in concern: "Sisi," "Xiao Si," "Baobei," "Dr. Song."
Chu Mingyi gave his shoulders two reassuring squeezes and said, "Insert the breathing tube."
Song Si nodded before inserting the tube for the woman and turning on the ventilator and ECG monitor. Relying on memory, he walked to the medicine cabinet, entered the drug name and access code into the console. The pipes hummed softly, and soon sliding out a vial of frozen cardiac stimulant.
After administering the injection, Chu Mingyi handed him a glass of water.
Song Si drained it in one go, then turned to see his four colleagues standing behind him.
Their faces were indistinct—all he could perceive were varying shades of energy waves. He barely managed to discern three men and one woman, their high-energy zones concentrated in the brain, limbs, facial features, and blood vessels respectively.
When he turned back to Chu Mingyi, only he stood clearly beside him—face distinct, neck visible, and hands still stained with blood. It was as if all energy waves were being blocked around him.
Song Si froze, blinking in confusion.
Chu Mingyi raised an eyebrow, seemingly unsurprised, and asked, "What do you want?"
The question flipped a switch in Song Si. His mouth opened, and an inexplicable yet overwhelming craving surged through him. He answered instinctively: "I want ice cream."
An utterly bizarre request, yet none of those present found it strange. The female colleague whose face he couldn't see immediately chirped, "I'll get it! A vanilla cone, right? Your favorite."
Even Song Si felt bewildered, a little embarrassed as he nodded. "Thanks."
Chu Mingyi took charge. "Brother Zheng, come with me to the bureau to check this woman's records. Yiming, stay here with Song Si. Xinxin, prepare the report immediately. Then we'll interrogate Liu Cenning again."
The named male colleague instantly wailed, "Ming-ge...! I did the report yesterday! Let Yu Yiming handle it—I want to stay with Sisi!"
"Enough," Chu Mingyi cut him off. "Draw a blood sample from the woman. You and Brother Zheng are coming with me to the bureau."
The boy tried to lunge at Song Si, but before he could reach him, the other man grabbed him by the collar and dragged him to the bedside. While drawing blood, the boy chattered incessantly and kept mentioning Song Si twice in every sentence with his tone full of grievance. Before being dragged away, he managed to scoot close to Song Si, urging him to rest well and take care of himself.
From memory, Song Si guessed his identity: talkative, young, male, prone to acting spoiled—this must be Xu Xinxin, the only third-year university student and full-time investigator in the department, with hypersensitivity of the five senses. It was him who had heard Song Si’s low voice in the courtyard earlier.
A gentle male voice came from beside Xu Xinxin: "Alright, Xinxin, don’t disturb Xiao Si’s rest. Xiao Si, we’ll head out now and come back tomorrow."
Song Si shifted his gaze. The man next to Xu Xinxin was about the same height as him, his left hand emitting a bright orange energy wave.
This should be Lin Zheng, the oldest member of the department and a logistics officer, Song Si thought.
Noticing Song Si’s gaze, Lin Zheng’s left hand suddenly lifted and waved at him in an odd manner.
At the same time, a sorrowful voice echoed in Song Si’s mind: "Darling, why aren’t you looking at me? It’s been five days since we last saw each other. Did you miss me?"
Song Si froze for a couple of seconds.
Ah, right—the one "speaking" was Lin Zheng’s self-aware left hand.
The first time Song Si treated Lin Zheng, he had even given this left hand a name: "Lin Chen." Lin Chen stretched toward Song Si, quickly ruffling his hair twice before being swiftly restrained by Lin Zheng’s right hand.
The right hand held down the left, but the left hand still squirmed stubbornly. In this bizarre scene, Lin Zheng gave Song Si an awkward smile. "Sorry, it’s been a bit unruly these past couple of days."
Song Si nodded understandingly, but before he could speak, Lin Chen’s voice sounded in his head again: "It’s ‘he’! Don’t think I don’t know which pronoun you used! Darling, he’s discriminating against me again."
Meanwhile, Xu Xinxin’s protest reached his ears: "Brother Zheng, you’re totally doing this on purpose! I want to touch Si Si’s hair too—his new hair color looks so good this time…"
Chu Mingyi grabbed Xu Xinxin by the back of his collar. "Let’s go."
Amid the noisy clamor, Chu Mingyi left the clinic with Xu Xinxin and Lin Zheng, leaving only the unconscious woman and the last male colleague in the room.
Finally, silence settled in.
Song Si’s vision hadn’t fully recovered yet. Turning his head, he vaguely made out the figure of a young man with his brain emitting a calm blue hue and his body’s energy waves appearing healthy.
He hadn’t spoken until now. Seeing Song Si look his way, he waved a hand in front of his eyes and asked, "Still not recovered?"
His voice was pleasant, deep and composed.
After a moment’s thought, Song Si said, "You’re Yu Yiming?"
The man gave a brief "Mm" in response. "The chief mentioned your memory’s a bit off."
Song Si smiled faintly. "Probably. Some of it’s come back, some’s gone. I can’t really tell myself."
Yu Yiming suddenly fell silent, staring straight at him. Song Si sensed the shift in the man’s emotions—he was surprised.
"What’s wrong?" Song Si asked.
Yu Yiming also smiled lightly. "Nothing. You rarely smiled before. It’s just a bit unfamiliar."
Song Si’s core had already changed. Rather than hiding it, he might as well embrace the differences openly, unafraid of his colleagues noticing. He replied candidly, "After brushing with death, you gain some new perspectives on life."
Yu Yiming's gaze fell on Song Si's bandaged wrist. "Does it still hurt?"
Song Si shook his head. "Not anymore."
Another wave of emotions reached him—Yu Yiming seemed gloomy and angry. He stared at Song Si's wrist for a moment before pulling over a chair and gesturing for him to sit.
Then he poured a glass of water, glanced at the clock on the wall, and tucked something he had been holding into the back of his waistband.
Due to his visual impairment, Song Si wasn’t sensitive to inanimate objects. It wasn’t until this movement that he realized his colleague had been holding a gun.
Yu Yiming’s voice was completely neutral as he spoke calmly. "Chief assigned us to take shifts guarding the perimeter these past two days. No startling the target—just stay hidden nearby. Tonight was supposed to be my watch. Shift change was at 6:30. At 6:33, Xiao Xin and the others arrived. I took a smoke break, then saw the woman at the door, drew my gun, and fired..."
Yu Yiming looked at him and paused for two seconds.
Song Si sensed his self-reproach and reassured him, "It wasn’t your fault."
"No," Yu Yiming took a sip of water, his grip tightening around the glass. "The smoke break took two minutes and forty-five seconds. Detecting the anomaly, chambering a round, and firing took five seconds total. But when Chief subdued that woman, I checked my watch—it was 6:36."
Song Si didn’t follow. "?"
"Three minutes and ten seconds disappeared," Yu Yiming said, his gaze shifting to the woman on the hospital bed. "This woman doesn’t just emit Infrasound—she can also distort people’s perception of time."
Song Si was silent for a full half-minute.
He wasn’t sure whether to be more shocked by the woman on the bed or by Yu Yiming in front of him.
Yu Yiming looked pained, his brow furrowed. He drained the glass and stood. "I’ll move her to the isolation room first, then check the surveillance at the entrance. You should go back to the second floor and rest. This place was built to military research facility standards—as long as you don’t go outside, you’ll be safe."
Song Si felt another ripple of emotion. In his vision, the blue light around Yu Yiming’s brain swirled chaotically.
He stood as well. "Do you need treatment?"
The corner of Yu Yiming’s mouth twitched into a faint smile. His usually flat voice softened as he tapped his temple. "It’s nothing. I’ll recalibrate when I lie down tonight."
Song Si picked up his jacket and headed upstairs. Once his focus shifted away from living beings, the surroundings turned murky, like a projection from another world.
The wooden stairs weren’t slip-resistant. As he neared the corner, Yu Yiming’s voice came from behind him on the first floor: "Watch your step."
At this point, his numerical obsession couldn’t be considered a mental disorder—it was practically a superpower.
Taking his advice, Song Si paused, looked down carefully, and stepped firmly onto the first stair after the turn.
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