Otaku Translation: I! Anomaly Cleansing Agent! C131

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Chapter 131: Questions

"Finally decided to fight back?"

Seeing the scattered nails littering the corridor and the blood trickling down Leon’s hand, the dozen scarred chiefs couldn’t help but smirk in unison, their expressions eerily amused.

"It seems your ability to probe souls operates differently. To unleash these invisible attacks or defenses, you must pay a price—pieces of your own skin, correct?"

Leon glanced at him but remained silent. The scarred chief, unfazed, continued unprompted:

"After the Blood Night at Lion Manor, I investigated the estate. While you were unconscious, I even caught a glimpse of your injuries from afar. Aside from those who inexplicably committed suicide, many bodies showed signs of being destroyed by some invisible force. Your own body, lying unconscious at the entrance, was missing large patches of skin… This aligns perfectly with my hypothesis."

Observing Leon’s stoic demeanor, the scarred men shook their heads in unison. As they reloaded their nail guns, one of them spoke leisurely:

"Denying it won’t change anything. The ‘rules’ governing your offensive anomaly were essentially exposed after its use at Lion Manor. Someone once told me that in battles between anomalies, intelligence and strategy often outweigh raw power. No matter how formidable an ability may be, if its workings are understood, a countermeasure can always be found."

He paused, his tone smug. "Coincidentally, your type—high range, devastating bursts, but at great cost—is perfectly countered by my ability. I don’t need to do much; I just keep forcing you to use your power until you literally tear yourself apart. Am I wrong?"

"…"

Watching the scarred man’s seemingly taunting words, which were actually probing for weaknesses, Leon pondered for a moment before silently releasing his grip on the black goat’s horn.

The [War Horns] could only affect beings with souls, but the dozen scarred figures before him were soulless shells, naturally immune to the goat’s "provocation." Worse still, the true body of the scarred chief wasn’t within the dungeon. Trapped inside, Leon couldn’t send out the power of the [Sacred Spirit Pendant] to directly eliminate the real threat. His other anomalies were equally useless here.

As things stood, the situation aligned with what the scarred chief had claimed: Leon was effectively checkmated. He could only continue using the [Sacred Spirit Pendant] to block bullets, gradually consuming his flesh and stamina.

"Leon, let’s retreat into the interrogation room," the policewoman urged, her voice tinged with urgency. Though she couldn’t comprehend the surreal nature of their battle, Leon’s silence confirmed her fears—the scarred chief’s analysis might indeed be correct. If this dragged on, Leon would be worn down to nothing.

Seeing the scarred men reloading their nail guns and switching gas canisters, preparing for another wave of fire, she pressed urgently:

"Come on! If we barricade the door, they’ll only be able to enter one or two at a time. It’ll buy us more time!"

"…"

Wait... Barricade the door?

Leon froze momentarily, then immediately activated the [Sacred Spirit Pendant], trading another patch of skin to unleash an invisible force that obliterated all the scarred figures in the corridor. Turning to the policewoman, he asked:

"Do you have any high-explosive ordnance at the Secret Investigation Bureau?"

"Huh? Yes. We confiscate explosives during raids on rebel factions and destroy them periodically. The latest batch should still be here…"

Good.

Using the fallen corpses of the scarred men to block the stairwell entrance, Leon finally allowed himself a faint smile.

From the dozen soulless shells, it was clear the scarred chief’s anomaly involved mass replication. The firearms in their hands were identical in design and wear, suggesting his ability wasn’t limited to living beings—it could replicate inanimate objects too.

So why hadn’t he replicated explosives? If his goal was to exhaust Leon, wouldn’t detonating bombs in the dungeon be far more effective than firing nails? Yet he chose the harder route, sending waves of gunmen instead of flooding the dungeon with explosives.

Unless… he was deliberately avoiding destruction. Perhaps the scarred chief feared collapsing the dungeon entirely.

And what the enemy avoided most was precisely what Leon needed to do.

---

Thanks to the policewoman’s unwitting hint, Leon glimpsed a potential solution. Pulling her into a corner, he took a deep breath and firmly gripped the [Sacred Spirit Pendant] around his neck…

BOOM.

A deafening crash echoed as the nearest wall crumbled into rubble. But this was only the beginning. Unleashing the pendant’s full power without restraint, Leon summoned an invisible battering ram—a force akin to a runaway freight train—that barreled through everything destructible in the dungeon.

With each thunderous explosion, not only was the interrogation room demolished, but over a dozen temporary holding cells were also reduced to debris. The narrow, oppressive corridors transformed into an open expanse of dust and shattered bricks. Sensing the disturbance below, the pile of corpses blocking the stairwell was partially blown away, as if someone above was attempting to blast through.

But before new scarred figures could storm in, Leon finished dismantling the remaining walls, severing two load-bearing pillars and causing the southwest corner—piled high with tools and supplies—to collapse entirely.

"What the…? The walls are gone!"

"What’s happening?!"

"It’s collapsing! Run!"

As one corner of the dungeon caved in, something snapped. Souls previously visible only through Soul Vision reappeared before Leon and the policewoman.

So, his initial guess had been correct: destroying the dungeon would allow them to escape.

Glancing at the scarred figures vanishing from the opposite end of the corridor, Leon exhaled deeply. Summoning a gale with the [Witch’s Broom], he swept away the swirling dust toward the stairwell, simultaneously knocking over panicked secret police officers and prisoners.

"Take them over there."

Pointing to the few remaining intact support columns, he instructed the policewoman to gather everyone in that area. Then, gripping the [Sacred Spirit Pendant] tightly, Leon dashed toward the stairwell.

As expected, with most of the dungeon destroyed, the previously infinite loop of the stairwell returned to normal. Ascending the stairs no longer led to another collapsed dungeon but instead opened into the deserted first-floor hall of the Secret Investigation Bureau.

Was it the same as before?

Surveying the empty hall, Leon frowned, preparing to test whether he could proceed upward when a warning from the [Black Goat] jolted him.

"Be careful."

Leon’s expression hardened instantly. Activating the [Sacred Spirit Pendant], he formed an invisible barrier around himself just as over fifty nails peppered its surface, ricocheting off harmlessly.

From the previously empty hall, scarred gunmen materialized out of thin air. These merciless "replicas" fired from a distance, while others discarded their weapons and charged headlong at Leon standing in the stairwell.

Is that all?

Watching the scarred men halted a meter away by the [Sacred Spirit Pendant], Leon shook his head dismissively. Without engaging further, he turned and ascended the stairs.

Aside from its exceptional stealth—undetectable even by Soul Vision—the scarred chief’s ability offered little direct combat power, explaining why he’d been assigned as a mole.

The real challenge had never been the replicas or their weapons but rather the strange ability that linked the upper and lower levels of the stairwell, trapping him inside.

However, that ability seemed unable to exist independently. Once its foundation was destroyed, the distortion vanished entirely.

Even if the connection between floors twisted again, it didn’t matter. At worst, he’d demolish another floor. Having deciphered the limits of the scarred chief’s power, Leon knew he could no longer be trapped.

And he wasn’t the only one who realized this.

As Leon erected his "shield," enduring the hail of bullets and advancing upstairs, despair flickered across the faces of the scarred men. One by one, they lowered their weapons and disappeared.

When Leon reached the fifth floor and stepped out of the stairwell, the surroundings had reverted to normal—the familiar bustling Secret Investigation Bureau restored.

To the left, voices erupted from a large conference room where several secret police officers appeared to be in heated debate. To the right, an open-plan office buzzed with activity as two employees struggled to push carts laden with files, distributing documents amidst sweat-drenched chaos.

Further inside was the office the policewoman had taken him to earlier. The sign reading "Chief’s Office" remained unchanged, and so did the occupant.

The only difference lay in the soul flame once brimming with hostility and murderous intent—it now burned with quiet despair, patiently awaiting his arrival.

---

Has he given up?

Examining the state of the soul flame, Leon found no trace of suicidal desperation, only regret, reluctance, and a hint of resignation. Frowning slightly, he pushed open the door.

"Congratulations. You’ve won."

The scarred chief smiled faintly as Leon entered, his tone calm and composed. "Would you care to talk? Before I die, I have questions for you—and I’m sure you do too. But please, slow your speech. Your abilities terrify me, and I won’t betray my comrades. If you ask something I refuse to answer, I’ll end my life immediately, and our conversation will end. Agreed?"

"…"

After confirming through Soul Vision that the scarred chief truly had a means to commit suicide on the spot, Leon nodded. "Agreed. One question each, but I’ll go first."

"Fair enough."

"The spatial distortion ability isn’t yours, so you must have accomplices. My question is: How much intelligence about me did they take when they fled with the bandaged woman?"

"…"

Are you serious? That’s one question?

After processing Leon’s query, the scarred chief sighed in exasperation. "Don’t think I don’t see what you’re doing. You can read souls and glean answers from reactions. That single sentence wasn’t just one question—it was five. First, you asked if the distortion ability was mine, then confirmed if I had accomplices, implied they escaped together, questioned whether they took intel, and finally asked how much about you they stole. Five questions hidden in one. That’s not fair."

"If you think it’s unfair, you don’t have to answer."

"…"

If I don’t answer, I lose everything.

The scarred chief clicked his tongue in frustration. Dying immediately would leave him empty-handed, but answering allowed him to ask a question in return. Trading one answer for five was better than losing four freebies.

"They didn’t take much—just guesses about your abilities and basic info available at the bureau. Their main focus was other intelligence. Yours was incidental."

After answering, the scarred chief inhaled deeply and posed his question:

"My first question is about the upper floors of the Cleansing Bureau—"

"Stop."

Interrupting him, Leon tightened his grip on the [Sacred Spirit Pendant] and stared intently. "Sorry, I won’t answer any of your questions. If you wish to end your life, feel free."

"Huh?"

The scarred chief’s jaw dropped, his expression cycling rapidly through anger, confusion, and bewilderment before settling on pure bafflement.

"You’re reneging? But you can see souls—this exchange clearly favors you. Even if I know something, I can’t bring it back after death. Why are you doing this?"

"I suppose I can explain."

Leon considered briefly before replying: "A mentor who helped me greatly once said: no matter how advantageous it seems, never trade information with an enemy who poses a threat unless they’re dead beyond doubt. You’re only preparing to die—you haven’t yet. Moreover, I don’t know what abilities your accomplices possess. What if they have ways to extract information from corpses? Until you’re truly dead, I won’t divulge anything."

"…"

"By the way, doesn’t that count as answering one of your questions? So, according to our agreement, can I ask another?"

"…"

Go screw yourself. I’ll die right now. 凸(艹皿艹).

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