Divine Oracle [Transmigration] (ORACLE)
Did the treatment have side effects?
The novel hadn't mentioned this. Song Si knew nothing about it, yet couldn't ask openly in front of the suspect. He could only listen silently to the voices in his earpiece.
Chu Mingyi said, "Then let's give it a try. Dr. Song, comfort her a little."
Hearing the address "Dr. Song," Song Si suddenly sensed the chief's underlying emotions for some reason, and couldn't help curling his lips slightly.
Though he didn't know what the side effects were, the implication seemed to be for him to coax information out of Lu Ling.
After two seconds of thought, Song Si picked up Lu Ling's thread, steering the conversation: "I never lie."
The woman made a strange sound in her throat, as if trying to use her superpower, but winced in pain due to the suppressor and her injuries. Her gaze remained fixed on Song Si, the handcuffs around her wrists making faint metallic sounds.
Xu Xinxin grew alert and took a protective step forward, positioning himself slightly in front of Song Si.
"No need to get too close," Chu Mingyi said. "Don't worry, I'm here."
Xu Xinxin glanced at Song Si, pouted, and retreated to his original position. The woman remained silent, and Song Si waited patiently for her response.
An invisible tug-of-war ensued.
Just as Chu Mingyi was about to say something more, Lu Ling slowly unclenched her jaw. Her tense shoulders hunched as she spoke stiffly: "Dr. Song, they say you're a renowned physician who weighs every word—someone who never tells lies."
Song Si replied, "That's correct."
Lu Ling's hands trembled, her voice squeezed out as if through a narrow container, hoarsely demanding: "You said I couldn't be cured. So why aren't I dead?"
Song Si smiled gently.
Before the woman could react, Chu Mingyi, Yu Yiming, and Xu Xinxin all widened their eyes in disbelief—had they just seen Song Si smile at a suspect??
Not only had he smiled, but he then proceeded to explain carefully: "I didn't lie. Your superpower has already caused irreversible organ mutations. Combined with last night's catastrophic tearing, not even Hua Tuo returned from the grave could cure you."
She stared at him with her face pale and jaw clenching tight again.
"I merely preserved your life," Song Si continued. "Isn't that what you wanted, Ms. Lu? If not for those few seconds of frozen time when I arrived to help, the blood from your severed artery would have already sprayed across the entire floor."
Lu Ling sat rigidly in the chair, the last traces of color draining from her lips until she resembled a statue.
Chu Mingyi muted the microphone and asked Yu Yiming, "Did you tell him that?"
"No," Yu Yiming shook his head. "I only mentioned the time dislocation theory."
Chu Mingyi clicked his tongue. "So he figured it out himself? Did Lu Ling really save herself?"
Yu Yiming, having just repaired the clock in his mind last night, was absolutely certain there had been no "frozen seconds." He confirmed: "Impossible. The timeline was completely normal after she lost consciousness. Xiao Si's lying to her."
Chu Mingyi: "..."
With complicated emotions, he looked toward the interrogation room. The fishing expedition appeared successful—Lu Ling's expression shifted through various states before she finally broke her long silence, her lips moving soundlessly to form some unspoken words.
Song Si said, "Ms. Lu, as you know, I've recently had an accident. The thing in my brain is in a state of extreme starvation."
"According to the plan, your first surgery is scheduled for tonight. After removing the mutated organ, come to me for feeding a few more times. Symptoms like pain, insomnia, and agitation will be greatly alleviated. Though it can't be cured, you'll barely be able to reintegrate into society like a normal person, find an ordinary job, and start a new life."
Lu Ling, who had just crawled back from the brink of death, managed a faint, bitter smile.
These emotions weren't her own. The young doctor before her held the leash around her neck, and she felt an irresistible dependence, attachment, even the urge to cry. Since adulthood, she'd never experienced such intense emotional fluctuations.
Lu Ling leaned back into the chair, as if clinging to her last shred of dignity, and asked expressionlessly with pale lips: "Is your lie detector accurate?"
Her tone suggested she wasn't planning to talk.
"Who knows about machines," Song Si smiled. "Let's try it—quick and decisive."
Lu Ling just stared at him, lips sealed, though her shoulders still trembled slightly. Chu Mingyi said, "Connect her. Her emotional defenses are already weakening. We can proceed."
Xu Xinxin picked up the helmet again and placed it on Lu Ling's head. This time, she didn't resist.
Song Si exchanged a glance with Fu Xi. He took out his own helmet, mimicking Xu Xinxin's earlier motion, and fitted it over his head.
Instantly, everything plunged into darkness and the sounds completely muted. The last thing he heard was half of Chu Mingyi's sentence: "Fu Xi, don't you dare mess around, listen—"
The outside world was severed, leaving only air.
Song Si felt a familiar calm, as if entering a trusted and comforting environment. The "Butterfly," agitated from treating Lu Ling, settled down contentedly and stretching leisurely in his mind before gradually encroaching on his sensory consciousness.
A "beep" sounded, and a mechanical male voice announced, "Connected." The pure blackness gradually shifted to dark gray, then lightened bit by bit, and vague shapes emerging from within.
Then, a familiar voice suddenly spoke right beside him, so close it seemed to whisper in his ear, laced with amusement: "Welcome to the Sea of Consciousness. Whatever happens here stays between us."
"No cameras can capture it, no recorders can pick it up. I'm the executor, you're the overseer. Even if one of us deliberately refuses to sever the connection out of personal grudges, causing the other to fall into stasis or even die, there'll be no questions or accusations afterward."
Song Si said, "Fu Xi, that's a dangerous thought."
Fu Xi chuckled unhurriedly. "I wasn't finished."
"Precisely because of this, as I mentioned earlier, the key to a successful interrogation lies in trust. Absolute, unreserved trust. I trust you completely, Xiao Si.
"But this is also another kind of danger. Since you've lost your memory, let me offer a friendly reminder. The Special Investigation Bureau has always held a complex and contradictory stance on the relationship between interrogators and monitors: too little trust risks accidents; too much risks collusion and tampering with testimonies.
"So, after the interrogation, we'll be separated into two completely isolated rooms for meticulous recounting. If there are discrepancies in our details... I don't think you'd want to try their lie-detection package."
Song Si raised an eyebrow. Was this a warning not to alter the testimony privately? In the novel, "Song Si's" true identity wasn't revealed until the very end. Could Fu Xi have already sensed something amiss with his former master at this point?
Or was it just a casual reminder?
His thoughts had barely circled twice when the world before him suddenly spun violently. The fragmented reality rapidly intertwined and overlapped, extracting itself into a relatively complete yet eerily peculiar space.
Everything around resembled a black-and-white film, shrouded in an indescribable layer of grayish particles. All objects floated mid-air—walls resembling a bedroom, floor, sofa, window, television—all suspended separately, yet people could stand normally on the floor. Song Si found himself at the very center of the room. Glancing around, he realized this "room" had no ceiling. The darkness above was impenetrable, and the upper walls curved inward oppressively, like an inescapable well.
He attempted to move in this world. The moment he took a step, his entire body felt weightless, as if about to leap. When he steadied himself, he noticed his body had become semi-transparent. Reaching out to grab a photo frame on the bedside table, his hand passed right through it, encountering only slight air resistance. The frame wobbled slightly before settling back into place.
Inside the frame was a young Lu Ling, clad in a white dress and standing stiffly in front of a university gate. Yet her face bore no smile and her gaze at the camera somewhat gloomy.
Song Si averted his eyes, only to meet another pair of starkly contrasting black-and-white eyes.
On the other side of the bed stood a tall, broad-shouldered man in pajamas, his hair damp. His features were utterly ordinary as he tentatively looked in Song Si's direction. The moment their eyes met, Song Si's heart raced violently and his blood running cold. Unconsciously, he took half a step back—
Liu Cenning!
Even though the original novel had only provided a brief physical description, Song Si recognized him instantly!
But then, the "Liu Cenning" across from him smiled faintly.
Song Si paused, a sense of familiarity washing over him. His pounding heart gradually steadied as he realized this wasn’t the real Liu Cenning—it was Fu Xi, who had been deployed into this world alongside him.
Unlike him, Fu Xi had a physical form here.
After confirming his companion’s position, Fu Xi began moving around the "room" with natural ease, appearing completely relaxed, as if at home. He addressed someone on the sofa: "What time is it?"
Only then did Song Si notice another person sitting there. Controlling his pace, he slowly walked to the front of the sofa and saw the master of this world—Lu Ling.
This Lu Ling was vastly different from the real one. The woman on the sofa was plumper, her complexion rosy and skin fair, even sporting a slight double chin. Compared to reality, her subconscious—or perhaps her self-idealized version—resembled an ordinary, happy woman far more.
Song Si stared at her, his pupils contracting. Something connected automatically between them, and Lu Ling’s emotions transmitted over with crystal clarity, a hundred times more vivid than external perception. Even the subtlest fluctuations were laid bare.
A phrase came to Song Si’s mind: a worm in one’s stomach. No wonder Fu Xi had chosen him as the Observer.
Lu Ling was now emotionally stable, feeling a bit down but not severely so. Hearing Fu Xi's voice, she stood up from the couch. At the same time, a clock appeared out of nowhere on the wall opposite her, showing the time as 11:15.
"11:15," Lu Ling said. "Brother Ning, let's not talk about those things anymore. Let's go to sleep."
As she spoke, she took off her silk nightgown, revealing nothing underneath.
Song Si nearly failed to suppress the urge to inhale sharply and just awkwardly averted his gaze.
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