Divine Oracle [Transmigration] (ORACLE)
Early the next morning, before Chu Mingxiao had even gotten out of bed, Chu Mingyi quietly slipped in and literally bundled Song Si away from his bed.
Having slept poorly for two nights, Song Si could barely keep his eyes open in the car and mumbled, "Wasn't it supposed to be eight o'clock? It's only six now."
Chu Mingyi said, "My brother's a stubborn old mule. He claims he has his own methods for treating schizophrenia and won't let me take you to First Division. What era is this? How can we proceed without tests and diagnosis? It's not like we can move all the equipment to the house."
Song Si said, "So you're taking me on a secret...—" He nearly bit his tongue and awkwardly corrected himself, "...sneaking out this early?"
Chu Mingyi was quick to respond, "Secret what?"
Song Si was speechless for two seconds before chuckling dryly, "Chief Chu, I truly admire how you've managed to grow up under your brother's care."
Chu Mingyi paused, seeming to finally realize the implication. He glanced at Song Si, then at the ring on his finger, uncharacteristically awkward as he said, "We were classmates in the same major, skipping classes together, then joined the Special Investigation Bureau in the same year. Old habits die hard. I'll call him later."
Seizing the opportunity, Song Si asked, "So what's the deal between me and your brother?"
Chu Mingyi's gaze drifted over lightly, "Instead of asking him, you're asking me?"
"Save me some face," Song Si rubbed his eyes, "Asking the person involved would be too awkward."
Chu Mingyi fell silent for a long while, seemingly at a loss for where to begin.
Too exhausted to stay awake, Song Si pulled open the glove compartment and, as expected, found cigarettes inside. He took one for himself and handed another to Chu Mingyi before rolling down the window as they both began puffing away.
Chu Mingyi said, "I don't really know either. You started off as teacher and student, then became superior and subordinate at work. You never seemed particularly close. Then one day, after my brother's leg problems started, you suddenly told me you were getting engaged."
"After the engagement, you moved into our house but didn't share a room with him—more like you were there to freeload. You mostly stayed in your own room, unwilling to come out. I thought it was just a passing whim and you'd break up in a few months. But six years passed in the blink of an eye—no breakup, no marriage. Now you're asking me? I should be asking you."
Listening to this, Song Si thought for a moment before analyzing rationally from an outsider's perspective, "Maybe I used treating his legs as an excuse to force your brother into an engagement, aiming to seize your family's assets."
Chu Mingyi choked on his smoke, coughing violently.
Between coughs he exclaimed, "Oh no, oh no, you've definitely split—what kind of nonsense is going through your head?"
Song Si shook his head, expressing his exasperation with Chu Mingyi. Not wanting to continue this topic, he asked instead, "What happened to his legs? Six years and they're still not better?"
Chu Mingyi bit down on his cigarette, sighed, and rested his arm on the car window, his gaze growing distant.
"That's another long story," Chu Mingyi said. "Let me organize my thoughts."
Song Si waited quietly.
Chu Mingyi thought for the duration of a red light, flicked the ash off his cigarette, and began, "Six years ago, our city was rocked by a serial murder case that shocked the nation. The killer murdered three adult men in three different locations simultaneously, leaving no clues at the scenes. All the victims' autopsy reports indicated suicide, and the local police closed the cases as ordinary suicides. A month later, an identical case emerged—different locations, but again three adult men dead at the same time, all highly suspected to be suicides. The case blew up, but with no leads, it was transferred to our bureau."
"And then?" Song Si asked.
"Back then, we were all still interns. After the case was closed, all related files were sealed. Chu Mingxiao wouldn’t tell me anything, so I don’t know much about the investigation process. All I know is that it was done by a retired mercenary. He lost both legs during a mission, which drove him insane. He became convinced his legs were still there, just stolen by someone else. He got his hands on forbidden drugs from the black market, which triggered a twisted supernatural physique, and set up an elaborate scheme to make the entire city pay for his loss. When my brother found him, the ritual was already complete, and the curse irreversible. So he fabricated an illusion for the mercenary, tricking him into transferring the curse onto himself instead..."
Song Si remarked, "That doesn’t make much sense. There are a lot of holes in the logic."
Chu Mingyi said, "I know. It’s all hearsay. I don’t have clearance to access those files anyway."
Judging by the timeline, this must have happened before the main events of the story.
Chu Mingyi added with a sigh, "But it’s true that he saved the entire M City in that case. You’ve been treating him for six years, and while there’s been improvement, he can only walk for short periods now. My brother, that man..."
He trailed off, but Song Si could sense the complexity in Chu Mingyi’s emotions.
Five parts admiration, three parts lament, two parts envy.
Every man has a bit of a hero complex, especially when that hero is his own older brother.
Song Si didn’t respond. He stubbed out his cigarette and turned on the car stereo.
They had been driving since six, but before reaching the Special Investigation Bureau, they got stuck near a police station.
A row of prisoner transport vehicles was parked outside the station, with a long police cordon stretched across the area. Outside the cordon, numerous reporters were broadcasting live. Chu Mingyi had to stop at the intersection to let the convoy pass.
With so many cameras around, he deliberately rolled up the car windows to avoid accidentally appearing on screen.
A few minutes later, four armed police officers escorted out a suspect with a black hood over his head, revealing only his eyes. His wrists were cuffed, and his arms were restrained. Across the street, a crowd of reporters with cameras and microphones had gathered. Instead of lowering his head, the suspect slowly and calmly surveyed his surroundings.
A nearby reporter was speaking loudly, and fragments of phrases could be heard: "...major transnational counterfeit drug case cracked... Ninghai Pharmaceuticals... victims..."
Song Si turned to look. Then, he heard heart-wrenching sobs. Leaning toward the sunroof, he saw a woman dressed in mourning clothes with a white headband wrapped around her forehead and holding up a large banner with blood-red words: "Quack doctors kill for profit, deceiving patients and selling fake drugs," and "My only son’s unjust death remains unavenged—our family demands the death penalty in blood." The woman, likely the mother, wept as she raised the banner, crying, "Give me back my son!"
Beside her, several similar signs were held up.
"Demand the death penalty for the murderer! Death! Death!"
"An eye for an eye, a life for a life! Justice demands it!"
"No mediation accepted—blood must be paid with blood! Only the death penalty can bring peace to the departed!"
Reporters swarmed around the victim's family for interviews. The detained suspect glanced briefly in their direction before being swiftly ushered into a police van.
The emotional resonance of hundreds affected Song Si, stirring up a surge of negativity within him. It felt as though a knife was twisting in his brain and sharp pain lancing through his skull.
One after another, the convoy of police vans departed from the precinct entrance. The traffic lights returned to normal, yet the crowd remained, lingering stubbornly.
Chu Mingyi noticed Song Si’s discomfort and handed him a piece of mint gum.
"The trial starts today. The one being escorted is Liu Cenning," Chu Mingyi said coldly. "Our bureau is a classified department. They transferred him to the police station overnight yesterday—he’s being taken to court from here. What a coincidence."
Song Si watched the line of police vans, pressing a hand to his temple. "What about Li Yunan?"
"Closed trial."
The rest of the ride was heavy with silence.
By the time they arrived at the Special Investigation Bureau, it was peak office hours, and the oppressive atmosphere finally began to lift.
Unlike the late-night overtime sessions before, the place was now bustling with colleagues—some carrying breakfast, others on phone calls, clutching documents, sprinting to morning meetings, or chatting as they walked. At this moment, the bureau looked no different from any ordinary company, serene and uneventful.
Chu Mingyi led Song Si out of the elevator. People kept greeting Song Si left and right—calling him "Dr. Song," "Brother Si," "Xiao Si"... The variety was endless, and they all seemed familiar with him, smiling warmly. A few even tried to strike up a conversation, only to be deterred by a sharp glance from Chu Mingyi.
Under the weight of so many gazes, they entered the First Division office, where only three or four people were scattered about. A gaunt man who looked like a strong breeze could knock him over stood by the coffee machine, brewing a cup. Chu Mingyi called out, "Chief Yang."
The head of the First Division looked up, dazed, before his eyes suddenly lit up at the sight of Song Si. He rushed over and tightly grasped Song Si’s hands.
"Dr. Song, you’re finally here," he muttered under his breath. "Hurry to the lab—we have too many patients. Our division..."
Chu Mingyi cut him off, quickly summarizing Song Si’s symptoms. "He’s a patient himself right now. Check him first—in this state, he can’t treat anyone else."
Song Si opened his mouth to defend himself, but Chief Yang waved it off with a look that said, "Is that all?" He patted Song Si’s shoulder. "Early-stage schizophrenia? I thought it was something serious. No big deal."
Chu Mingyi scoffed, raising an eyebrow. "He’s my only doctor. If he’s splitting, what then?"
Chief Yang gave him a look that said, "What do you know?"
"What’s wrong with schizophrenia? I’d be more surprised if Song Si wasn’t splitting. Chief Chu, you’re young and frontline-oriented—this is where you’re out of your depth. The dragon-slayer becomes the dragon; when you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes back. In our line of work, nine out of ten are split. Look at our division—Xiao Li, Xiao Liu, Xiao Lin... all schizophrenic! Simple, simple. I’ll run a check on Song Si, give him some meds, then take him to the lab. Oh, and we should call Fu Xi too."
Chu Mingyi: "..."
Song Si: "..."
Chief Yang grabbed Song Si and pulled him inside, abandoning his coffee as he fired off questions: "What level of hallucinations? Any auditory ones? Any secondary personalities? Insomnia?"
Song Si, unsettled by his attitude, began doubting himself: "None of that. Just some illogical thoughts after the memory loss."
"Like what?"
Song Si avoided mentioning the novel, saying only: "Like thinking I might be a criminal or something."
"Pfft!" Chief Yang said. "Your chief was so tense, I thought you'd really split personalities. Here's a pill—take it and you'll feel refreshed, eat well, sleep soundly, even pull twenty-hour lab shifts without feeling tired."
Song Si & Chu Mingyi: Sounds even more like a shady drug peddler than Ninghai Pharmaceuticals...
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