Chapter 62: The Theater (6)

Everly was grateful for her past meditation training, which had given her a strong heart. Even in such an urgent situation, she was able to think clearly and calmly.

She asked, “Rebecca, I have a question—according to you, when a sacrificial magic circle is activated, it automatically draws life from nearby living beings. If that’s the case, why aren’t the masked people caught in it? How can they survive the sacrifices—what protects them?”

“Good question!” Rebecca snapped her fingers and then explained to Everly that sacrificial rituals generally fall into two types.

The first type is a sacrifice with a fixed range. This is more common. Before the sacrifice, people use runes, Hebrew letters, or alchemical symbols in the magic circle to define that the sacrifice is limited to the people or objects inside the circle. During the ritual, as long as one stands outside the circle, one’s safety is guaranteed.

The second type is a sacrifice with an unfixed range. This is rarer because it carries the risk of harming the organizers themselves.

To protect themselves during such rituals, the organizers usually need a strong enough faith so that the deity can clearly distinguish between the worshippers and the sacrificial victims. If the deity is an evil god, multiple steps to “please the deity” are usually required, because evil gods are often capricious and unpredictable. If they’re in a bad mood or simply entertained, even the lives of their most devoted followers can be taken without distinction. If the worshippers do not perform actions to please the deity beforehand, they might be indiscriminately attacked.

“These masked people clearly worship an evil god. In the theater, they go on a rampage, killing indiscriminately. First, this terrifies the survivors, making them too afraid to resist. Second, it satisfies their twisted, perverse pleasure in killing. Third, it’s an attempt to please their god. The more fear, pain, and despair they create, the more pleased their god is, and the higher their chances of survival.”

“I see.” Everly felt a bit disappointed.

Earlier, she had speculated that perhaps these masked people held something that could identify them—like talismans or totem badges—that protected them from the effects of the sacrificial ritual. If such things really existed, she and Old John could plan an ambush in a secluded spot, take a few of the masked people’s items, and use them for protection.

But that hypothetical object didn’t exist at all.

To survive a sacrificial magic circle, they would have to become worshippers of that evil god—and even then, they would have to kill living people to please it. Leaving aside the fact that such inhuman acts were completely impossible for the three of them, even if they wanted to cooperate, they would first need to know the name of that evil god. Ironically, they had encountered this situation three times already, and all Everly knew was that it was a murderous, merciless cult—nothing else…

The route of “finding something to protect themselves” was impossible. Everly suppressed the frustration rising in her chest and began thinking about other ways to escape.

To flee a sacrificial ritual that used life as the offering, there were only a few possible options: leave the effective range of the ritual, elevate one’s identity from a sacrificial victim to the ritual organizer, kill or control the ritual organizer to stop the ceremony, or destroy the magic circle and its props.

The first two options were impossible, and the third was obviously unfeasible for now. That left only the fourth…

As she thought, Everly moved her body, crawling toward the ventilation shaft, and cast her gaze onto the massive inverted pentagram on the stage.

After the masked people had finished painting the snake-shaped totem in the center, they began placing the ritual props inside the circle: a glass bottle filled with an unknown black liquid, a heart cut from a living person’s chest, a baby still wrapped in swaddling clothes (its state of life unknown for the moment), and a crow pierced to death by rusty nails…

One by one, the ritual items were meticulously placed in specific positions by the pig-headed man. As the magic circle took shape, the inverted pentagram’s colors grew increasingly vivid. Watching it, Everly even felt as if the blood of those forming the circle was trickling across the wooden floor, as though the circle was not dead, but a massive living organism with blood vessels pulsating with life.

The masked people could activate the circle at any moment—they had to find a solution quickly!

Everly looked down at the masked people. She had roughly counted earlier: there were nearly twenty in the performance hall alone, with others patrolling different parts of the theater. Their strength was far beyond hers; violently destroying the circle was simply impossible.

Moreover, she didn’t know if this “movie” was one of those gore films where the male and female leads existed only as live cameras. So far, she hadn’t seen any captives resembling the protagonists.

There was no choice—they would have to try a more indirect approach…

Everly’s gaze swept around the stage, finally resting on the ventilation ducts above.

It was a square duct, barely wide enough for one person, exposed on the outer wall. At intervals, metal straps held it suspended two to three meters below the theater ceiling. Through gaps in the spotlights and steel beams, she could clearly see three vent openings along the duct—front, middle, and rear—with the central one positioned directly above the magic circle below.

Everly had also brushed up on some occult knowledge before. She remembered a book mentioning that magic circles were delicate and fragile; if anything was slightly misaligned or if some materials were impure or contained impurities, the circle could fail. If she poured water on it, damaging the circle, or dropped something from the central vent that could interfere with or weaken the magic, perhaps this magic circle could be rendered ineffective!

She shared her idea with Rebecca, who thought it was a good plan.

“Though forget about pouring water,” Rebecca said. “Circles painted with human blood rely mainly on the fear and despair contained in the blood, not the blood itself. Even if you wash it away, the circle won’t be affected much. As for other things that could contaminate a sacrificial circle, I can help you consult an expert. I have a group of exorcists with some powerful people—but it’ll cost a bit for the consultation…”

“Money’s not a problem.”

“Of course, of course. So, Miss, you absolutely must stay safe, or I’ll take a big loss. Hang tight, I’ll ask right away… promise me you’ll wait!” With that, Rebecca abruptly hung up the call.

No sooner had the previous call ended than a new one came through.

Everly glanced at the screen and saw that it was the Micano police officer from earlier. She immediately answered.

“Finally! Miss Everly, are you alright? Your line was busy when we called before—we thought something had happened to you.” Concern laced the officer’s voice through the receiver.

“I’m fine. I just made some unusual discoveries and discussed them with a friend… You called me for a reason?”

“No, no. Miss Everly, the information you provided was extremely detailed. Thanks to you, we finally have a grasp of the theater’s interior. Just now, by checking old district plans, we discovered an abandoned sewer directly beneath the Xinkalan Theater.

This sewer has an exit inside the theater—when the theater expanded thirty years ago, the exit was incorporated into the backstage. Judging by the orientation, it should be in the props room. We’re planning to send people through this exit to infiltrate the theater, but there’s a problem—the manhole cover is blocked. Miss Everly, you…” The officer trailed off hesitantly.

Everly fully understood his hesitation. After all, from the police’s perspective, she was just a minor girl in an environment swarming with wolves; simply keeping herself safe was already an enormous effort. Asking her to risk infiltrating the props room to open a path for the police would be tantamount to pushing her straight into death.

But the officers didn’t know that Everly herself was anxiously waiting for a chance to escape.

Destroying the magic circle was indeed a possible option, but she couldn’t guarantee that the materials Rebecca could provide would be available in the theater. If it turned out to be something like holy water, silver, or garlic juice—special items she might not have on hand—even if she had the answer, she would be helpless without the actual materials.

If possible, her first priority was to escape the theater—get as far away as she could. Everything else could be left to the police. With a bit of luck, the cultists might not even have time to activate the circle before being caught.

So Everly cut off the officer’s hesitation and firmly stated that she was willing to assist in the police’s infiltration.

“Please send me a copy of the sewer layout. My email is XXXXX… My companions and I will head to the props room immediately. Don’t worry—we’re fairly agile and will be cautious. We’ll contact you once we have news. Also, there’s one thing I learned just now from a divination friend…”

Everly briefly explained the sacrificial magic circle to the officer. Given the urgency, neither side wasted time on further discussion. After hanging up, the officer quickly sent her the layout of the abandoned sewer, and Everly sent over the photos of the circle.

With that, both sides established their cooperation.

Everly compared the theater’s emergency evacuation map with the sewer layout the officer sent and now had a clear idea of where the props room was. After a quick discussion among the three, they decided to set out immediately, heading together toward the props room. If they encountered masked people along the way, having more of them would at least increase their odds of success.

Considering the combat situation, this time Old John led the way, Misha went in the middle, and Everly brought up the rear. In the wide corridor, the three adjusted their formation, retreating along the same path to the previous three-way junction, then turning left to enter the ventilation ducts leading to the backstage.

Just like the outer hallways, the backstage was a scene of chaos. As they crawled past several vent openings, Everly looked down and saw the passage below riddled with bullet holes and splattered blood. Some walls bore the marks of axes and knives, while severed limbs floated in thick pools of blood, chopped beyond recognition, silently recounting the massacre that had occurred here just minutes before.

Halfway through the crawl, Old John suddenly raised his hand, switched on his phone light, and signaled “wait” to those behind him. Misha and Everly immediately froze, pressing themselves low to the ground.

Without the sound of crawling or friction, the passage became deathly silent. Through the thin wall beneath them, the faint hum of conversation drifted up.

Two people were speaking.

One asked, “So, is the sacrificial magic circle set up yet?”

The other replied, “The boss said it’ll be ready soon, but there isn’t enough bait gathered outside. He plans to execute another batch of hostages and upload the video online, then there should be more bait coming in.”

“Wow, cool! Last time, it was the ‘Eagle’ team. This time, it should be our turn, right? I want to go viral online too!”

“Hmph, of course. Don’t worry, everyone will get a share…”

From the conversation, it was clear that two masked people were talking in the passage below. By sheer coincidence, the two black-clad figures were standing directly under the vent. If even a few specks of dust fell or a sound was made while crawling, it could easily alert them.

To avoid being discovered, Everly and the others had no choice but to patiently lie low, waiting until one of them was called away and the other turned to attend to their own tasks. Only then did they cautiously continue forward.

As the three crawled past the north-south corridor and turned left into the east-west passage, a sudden light caught Everly’s eyes. She looked down and saw her phone screen glowing faintly through the fabric of her chest pocket.

Everly pulled out the phone and glanced at it—Rebecca had sent a reply!