Chapter 13: The Dagon Cult

When Wu Yi woke up, Xiao Qi in her arms also opened her eyes at the same time and snuggled in closer.

She was tiny—even smaller than Wu Yi’s prophet by two sizes. 

Her little face was buried against Wu Yi’s chest, and a damp spot of drool had soaked through the fabric.

Outside, the sun was shining bright. 

Everything felt normal.

Too normal. Comfortingly so.

But something was wrong.

Wu Yi’s ears twitched slightly. Relying on her prophetic senses, she tried to feel the movement of the wind.

“One, two, three, four… five?!”

When the wind brushed past the little fox gourds, the smooth surface would emit a unique, pleasant sound due to the friction.

By logic, 7 minus 1—since Xiao Qi had been born—there should be six left.

But now, there were only five.

Stolen? Unlikely. She’d set up protective wards on the gourd vine. 

Anyone who tried to tamper with it would’ve been dragged away on the spot.

Which left only one possibility.

Recalling the scene from her prophetic dream, a chill ran down Wu Yi’s spine.

“Xiao Liu?”

No response.

This was turning even more terrifying.

There was no one else in the courtyard. 

Xiao Liu wasn’t here.

Wu Yi was in the light; she was in the dark.

There would be no chance to talk or reason things out.

Originally, Wu Yi had hoped that if she could reach the other side in advance and set the stage for a performance following the script from the prophetic dream, she could bluff her way through the crisis.

That way, the prophecy would be fulfilled without any real harm done.

But now the other party had gone into hiding…

It’s not the thief you fear—it’s the thief who’s thinking about you. 

As long as she couldn’t find the girl’s whereabouts, Xiao Liu would remain an unstable bomb.

She could strike from the shadows at any moment with a fatal blow.

“Knock knock knock—”

The front door suddenly rang with sharp raps.

Wu Yi flinched instinctively.

“Open up. It’s the city lord.”

Hearing his voice, Wu Yi relaxed a little.

“What is it now?” she asked lazily.

“I need your help with something,” came the reply from outside.

Wu Yi opened the door.

The city lord, Lu Sheng, stood there with his guards, blocking the entrance.

“What trouble have you brought this time…” Wu Yi yawned, clearly unenthused.

“I stayed up all night,” Lu Sheng said, plopping down in the courtyard like he owned the place, “The plan was executed exactly as you suggested.”

“Then what are you here for?”

“This time, it’s not about pirates. I have another request.”

Wu Yi was about to refuse outright, but then remembered she was technically under house arrest. 

Pushing too hard might not be smart.

So she simply asked, “What is it?”

“Have you ever heard of the ‘Dagon Cult’?”

Dagon Cult?

“I recall… they’re a very small, ancient sect,” Wu Yi frowned. “Why bring them up?”

“The Dagon Cult worships the evil god Cthulhu. They’re obsessed with searching for the sunken city of R’lyeh. Their life’s goal is to serve the supposed ruler of that city.”

R’lyeh?

“Hiss—”

A chill shot down her spine. Hearing those three ominous syllables instantly jolted Wu Yi fully awake.

“What happened? Why are you bringing them up?”

“Last night, everyone in Bibo Harbor had the same dream.”

Lu Sheng pulled out a thick stack of reports. 

“Tens of thousands of people—all dreamed of chanting the same incantation.”

“An incantation?”

“Mm,” Lu Sheng read carefully from the report, enunciating each word: “L’a L’a. Cthulhu Fhatgn.”

“…”

“Something like that—clearly an evil chant,” he added.

What’s so evil about that?!

“Tens of thousands dreaming the same dream, not just citizens on land—even sailors at sea reported joining in the chanting,” Lu Sheng said gravely. 

“A synchronized mass dream event of this scale… the spiritual influence behind it is terrifying.”

Indeed, by disaster classification standards, this was nearing “City-Eater” level.

Which meant, if given enough time, the entity behind it could slowly consume an entire city’s population…

“At this scale, it’s only been recorded in history during the rise of a new king within the Dagon Cult,” Lu Sheng continued, 

“This morning, the cultists publicly declared that the ‘new king’ has inherited the role of high priest—and will personally lead the cult toward fulfilling their supreme mission.”

“What supreme mission?”

“I don’t know. That’s why I’ve come to ask for your help.”

Wu Yi shook her head with a faint smile. 

“I’m just a humble civilian. I may know a bit more than others, but I really don’t know much about the Dagon Cult.”

“Well, here’s the thing,” Lu Sheng got to the point. 

“The Dagon Cult is currently recruiting new members. They’re specifically looking for someone blind—to serve as their next priest.”

“Hm? Why does it have to be someone blind…?”

“Since ancient times, the Dagon Cult has believed that the blind possess stronger heart-sense and are more attuned to divine revelations,” Lu Sheng explained, “So the position of priest is often held by someone without sight.”

From personal experience, Wu Yi had to admit—it wasn’t entirely wrong.

The enhancement of the other senses due to blindness wasn’t just as simple as “you can’t see, so you pay more attention to other things.”

The world we see is a result of the retina’s projection and complex brain computation. 

The brain constantly processes massive streams of visual data, with as much as sixty-five percent of its processing power devoted to it.

But in her prophet form, Wu Yi—being blind—could completely conserve that computational load.

And redirect it to other sensory inputs.

This was what the cult referred to as “heart-sense.” 

It didn’t just sharpen hearing—even the sense of touch was…

Well, it had taken Wu Yi a long time to get used to the overwhelming sensitivity caused by the friction of two small protrusions against her clothes.

……

“So,” Lu Sheng continued, “I hope you can apply for the priest position in the cult—go undercover and find out what this new king’s ‘supreme mission’ really is.”

Wu Yi fell silent, deep in thought.

She was curious too. How had things escalated from a vague prophetic dream into a full-on R18 plotline?

From the clues so far, it seemed Xiao Liu had left home, and this “new king” the cult spoke of… might very well be her.

She’d somehow become the high priestess overnight and now she was supposedly about to fulfill some ‘supreme mission.’

As her nominal Mama, Wu Yi figured she really did have a responsibility to figure out what was going on.

She wasn’t the type to shy away from trouble.

Even so, her lips said otherwise: “Too dangerous. I refuse.”

“That’s fair,” Lu Sheng nodded, as if he’d anticipated it all along.

Then, from beneath the pile of reports, he pulled out a concealed card. 

“This is a recommendation letter for Tianji Academy. You’re still of school age, right? With this, you can attend. The graduates from there usually go on to great futures…”

He clearly understood the wisdom of offering a sweet date after a slap. 

As a powerful official who had risen to become city lord, Lu Sheng was well-versed in managing people.

“One isn’t enough. I want seven letters,” Wu Yi said.

“Seven? Are you planning to form a football team at the academy?”

I’ve got seven daughters, Wu Yi muttered inwardly.

“Well, seven’s not impossible. If you can uncover the Dagon Cult’s true intentions, I’ll get you all seven admission letters.”

“Deal.”

“Deal!” The agreement struck, Lu Sheng stood up crisply. “Looking forward to your report.”

……

Wu Yi had already planned to get Xiao Qi into school, so this deal worked perfectly for her.

She decided to act quickly and wrap things up fast.

But before she could even begin forming a plan, the courtyard doors were suddenly thrown open with a bang.

“That’s her! Grab her!”