The Logistics Department for Special Assignments turned out to be not a department, but a fortress within a fortress. Located at the junction of the Reincarnation Office and the Infrastructure Complex, it was a maze of reinforced doors, scanners, and a constant stream of faceless couriers transporting lead-capped containers.
Xiao Bai, hiding with Lin Wei in a niche for emergency equipment, pointed to the diagram printed on his cracked disk.
"See? All logistics is divided into three rings. External — reception and accounting. The average is sorting and routing. Internally, it is the design of outfits for "special gatherings", that is, for Gatherers' trips to the lower circles. The data from the inner ring is automatically encrypted and sent to the Management's black archive five minutes after the outfit is closed. We need to get into the inner ring and find the records from 13-15 days ago, before they were erased."
"And how are we going to do that? We don't have access, and the defender's seal doesn't mean anything here. This is a war zone."
"There is... There's a way around it," Xiao Bai swallowed a lump. — Ventilation system for removing karmic vapors from containers. It passes through all three rings. There are no scanners, only filters. But the air is there... It's not for the living. And not for ordinary spirits."
Lin Wei looked at the ventilation grate in the ceiling. There was a faint violet glow coming from it.
"Lead the way."
The ventilation shafts turned out to be a nightmare. The air here wasn't just thick, it was poisonous. Each molecule carried emanations of fear, pain, and despair from the lower circles. Xiao Bai advanced, wrapped in his cloak and continuously muttering protective mantras from the service manual. Lin Wei was worse off. His living body reacted more acutely: his skin was covered with goosebumps, his eyes were double, and there was an obsessive whisper in his ears —fragments of the last thoughts of souls turned into "raw materials."
After twenty minutes of torturous travel, they descended through a narrow tube and found themselves above the inner ring. Through the grating of the floor, one could see a hall that looked more like an alchemist's laboratory crossed with a command center. There were flasks of bubbling dark liquid everywhere, and several figures in protective suits with darkened visors bent over holographic tables. Logisticians. They entered the data, and diagrams of the lower circles appeared on the screens with notes: "Sector 7-Gamma: residual grief, suitable for regeneration of schizophrenic matrices," "Sector 9-Delta: concentrated rage, request from the Torture Workshop."
And one stand-alone terminal. A short, stooping spirit in a simple robe, without a protective suit, was working behind him. His face was haggard, with dark circles under his eyes, and his fingers were feverishly fingering a rosary of bone beads. He didn't look like a soulless clerk, but like a hunted, frightened creature.
"Bingo,— Xiao Bai whispered. They do all the rough work. He was most likely the one who designed the outfits. His name is Lao Jin. They say he's only here because he owes a karmic debt to the system. It works until full repayment."
Lin Wei assessed the situation. Guards stood at the exits. The logisticians in suits were engrossed in their work. Lao Jin was sitting in relative isolation, against the far wall, next to a noisy filter cleaning unit. The noise could drown out the conversation.
"Distract those two at the terminal on the left," Lin Xiao ordered Bai. — Create a small anomaly in the data. For five seconds."
"How?!"
"You're a clerk. Remember how you created the anomaly that brought me here."
Xiao Bai blushed, but nodded. He took out his CD and, closing his eyes, began to enter the code, poking at it with a stylus.
Lin Wei silently removed the ventilation grate and jumped down, landing in the shadow of the machine. The noise was really deafening. He took two steps and found himself next to Lao Jin.
He flinched, dropping his rosary, and stared at Lin with wide eyes. There was not so much fear in them as complete, exhausted bewilderment.
"You... alive. How?"
"I need information," Lin said without preamble, showing the seal. — The order to send a batch of "raw materials" to the lower circle. 13-14 days ago. There should have been a soul named Lin Qiao in the party."
At that moment, there was a sharp sound from the left — the holographic table of one of the logistics exploded with fireworks from incorrect data. There was a commotion. Screams: "Crash! Immediate diagnosis!"
Lao Jin seized the moment. His frightened face twisted into a strange grimace — a mixture of despair and hope.
"You... Have you come for her? For Mrs. Lin?"
"Did you know her?"
"Everyone here knew! His whisper became passionate. "She was kind. Not like them. She brought us, the small clerks, sweets from the world of the living... once a year, on a holiday. She remembered our names." His eyes filled with a moisture impossible for the spirit. "They sent her to Sector 9-Delta. In the midst of a concentrated rage. It's not just exile. This... torture. Her pure soul will be torn apart in days."
Lin Wei felt his heart constrict.
"Do you have any documents? Confirmation?"
Lao Jin looked around nervously. The commotion subsided, the logisticians returned to the terminals.
"There is... A copy of the outfit. I... I couldn't delete it. I hid it. In exchange for what?" His gaze became sharp, intelligent. The downtrodden clerk disappeared, and a cornered but not broken man appeared.
"In exchange for a chance," Lin said softly. — A chance to save her. And myself. You will testify at the trial. The Moon is against the Pit."
Lao Jin's face turned white.
"This is death. Worse than death.
" "Your present situation is also death. It's slow. You said it yourself. And so... You can burn out, but you can illuminate the truth."
Lao Jin's gaze darted to his terminal, then to Lin. There was a struggle going on inside him. Fear against a long—forgotten sense of dignity.
"The document... in the memory buffer of filter number seven," he managed to say. — Access code: Sorrow-Hope-442. But you won't make it. The collectors have already received a new outfit. For today. To extract a sample from sector 9-Delta. They're coming for her right now. To erase the last traces."
An icy wave swept down Lin's back.
"When?"
"Their team is moving out in an hour."
There was no time. At all. Lin grabbed Lao Jin's arm.
"You're coming with us. You will open the buffer and be our witness. Now."
At that moment, Xiao Bai's voice, full of terror, sounded right in their heads — he used the shortwave connection of the service disks.
"Tench! They've got me figured out! The system has tracked the hack! A security alert is underway! You need to run! Now!"
The siren, blunt and powerful, drowned out the noise of the cars. Red light flooded the hall. The guards' voices: "Intruder in the sector! Block all exits!"
Lao Jin jumped up. There was panic in his eyes, but he nodded.
"Follow me! Through the emergency discharge of slag!"
He rushed to a massive trapdoor in the floor, which, apparently, was used for dumping waste. He opened the heavy lid. Below, there was blackness and a stench.
"It leads to external drains. From there, you can get to the pier where the Gatherers are loading for the sortie."
Lin Wei jumped in first. The fall was short and ended in a viscous, warm muck. A moment later, Xiao Bai landed next to him, whom he managed to grab by the arm and pull down the hatch. Lao Jin followed, gnashing his teeth in fear.
The hatch slammed shut above them, but they could already hear bangs on metal from above as the guards tried to open it.
They were in the Diyu sewer, which was draining the dregs of karmic operations. Ahead, at the end of the tunnel, dim light could be seen and measured, heavy footsteps could be heard.
The footsteps of the Gatherers going hunting.
Lin Wei wiped the sticky mucus off his face. He looked at Lao Jin, who was holding his service disk, the key to the evidence, in trembling hands. And at Xiao Bai, who looked at him as the only anchor in this madness.
They weren't just looking for evidence. Now they had to intercept the executioners' expedition in time and save the soul that was the key to everything.
And they had an hour for that.