Upon hearing the words “I request a lie detector test,” Amber in the monitoring room froze for a moment, then opened her mouth wide with delight lighting up her face.
“It’s my turn to shine!”
Amber had completed the lie detector training course, passed the exam, and obtained her certificate. As Letisia’s apprentice and assistant, she was responsible for conducting the polygraph tests during interrogations.
Union City’s laws stipulated that anyone with a professional certificate could work on the job, regardless of age.
In the post-apocalyptic era, everyone had to contribute to society; there was no such thing as a “children’s shelter.”
Before the test, Ashley was granted a precious half-hour rest.
A police officer brought her some food—cold goat milk and hard soda bread.
Ashley picked up the cup and took small sips.
The taste was bland, lacking the fats needed for flavor.
“Tsk tsk.”
Ashley narrowed her eyes. Upon first arriving in this world, the most immediate sensation had been the scarcity of resources.
The goats foraged in garbage heaps, licking niter salt from stones, producing milk that was unpalatable and nutrient-poor. The tough soda bread could be chewed multiple times to increase satiety.
Still, this counted as decent fare.
Ashley broke the bread into small pieces with her pinky finger, placing them into her mouth unhurriedly.
After leisurely finishing her meal, she left the chair and lay down unabashedly on the carpet. Then, she closed her eyes, shaded by her thick lashes, her satin-like beautiful hair spilling over her ears and shoulders, shimmering with gorgeous, illusory cobalt blue waves.
Everything was going according to plan…
Ashley knew that the principle behind the lie detector was monitoring skin electrical conductance to detect anomalies.
When people lied, their heart rate, blood pressure, and breathing underwent subtle changes—alterations that couldn’t be suppressed by willpower alone, and few people trained deliberately against them.
Thus, the essence of polygraphy was detecting changes in skin electricity, not discerning the truth or falsehood of a statement.
For instance, in cases like “the empty field cow”—even if the subject told the truth, there was no cow in the field.
“Skin electrical changes” corresponded to “truth-falsity differences,” meaning lies produced the same current as other lies, and truths matched other truths.
To distinguish lies from truths, the examiner included control questions in the list—ones the subject was certain to answer truthfully—to establish the baseline for truthful responses.
Things like “What day is it?” or “What is your name?”
As a transmigrator, Ashley was not the original Ashley, and this world’s calendar differed from Earth’s. That was her exploitable loophole.
If she lied on every question, her skin electrical responses would be consistent—reality becoming dream, truth becoming lie.
But what Ashley wanted wasn’t to pass the test and clear her name; it was to make the other side thoroughly doubt themselves.
Drawing in her consciousness, she sank into a dream, using every moment to rest and build up her energy. This was a battle of both mind and stamina.
…
…
Gurgle, gurgle…
Muffled bubbling sounds came from afar—distant yet near. Occasionally, a bubble burst, emitting a tiny, sharp sonic wave.
Dim yellow light filtered through her eyelids, dyeing her pupils the color of sunset glow. She saw a dusky sky and turbid earth, as if the sun would die at any moment, ushering in eternal night…
Lights flickered, fate ebbed and flowed. Bleak shadows crept in from all directions, dragging her toward an abyss where even consciousness couldn’t form…
After an unknown time, her vision steadied amid violent shaking, sharpening to reveal an antique vanity.
The silver mirror frame extended slender branches, tipped with Gothic-style plum blossoms, rounded petals, and spirals, exuding a mysterious, mournful artistic aura.
A woman’s face emerged in the mirror—pale and gaunt, with deep-set eye sockets, her gaze fixed rigidly ahead in a neurotic stare.
The image was crystal clear, utterly realistic; no details blurred. Even the fine hairs on the woman’s waxy, stiff yellowed skin were visible in perfect detail.
The woman wore a gray nightgown ragged into tatters. Her chest bones protruded sharply, jarring the eyes.
Looking down, her abdomen swelled in an arc, stark against her emaciated frame—clearly pregnant. The nightgown’s hem trailed on the filthy floor, exposing half a bony ankle veined with dark blue.
The woman’s hand rested on the vanity, her slender thumb pinching a sheet of parchment.
The parchment was soft and wrinkled, yet unnaturally fine-textured; its pores were clearly visible, emanating an eerie aura that grew more unsettling the longer one looked.
Though aged and tattered, the ink marks on the parchment were vividly fresh. The strokes were thin and sharp like needles and hooks, or the tangled legs of centipedes, interspersed with bizarre symbols.
The center of the parchment was blank, branded with a scorched emblem pressed by a hot iron.
At the emblem’s core loomed an inverted black new moon and inverted cross, encircled by a ring like a mysterious eye, the moon and cross forming its pupil.
From the ring’s base oozed crimson liquid, pooling into a massive teardrop…
Ashley was always plagued by a strange sense of detachment. She felt every movement of the woman as if it were her own, yet she knew she was merely observing. None of the actions stemmed from her will; she had no control over the body, drifting like duckweed.
The woman’s hand dropped to her abdomen, her bony fingertips gently clenching. Then, a murmur resonating from the chest cavity whispered into Ashley’s ears.
“The sun goes extinct, darkness surges…
I yearn for eternal night, to accompany me to life’s end…
The earth writhes, flesh converges…
I crave emergence; I shall become one of the myriad…”
Wind howled through the decrepit corridor, rain battered the windowpanes, candle flames guttered. The woman’s long shadow twisted and writhed, like a monster constantly breaking free of restraints…
Suddenly, the door creaked open.
The viewpoint shifted; Ashley saw a loli standing in the doorway.
The loli was breathtakingly beautiful. Candlelight on her face was like polishing white jade. Her hair was cropped short at the ears, shimmering snow-green, with tousled tips and natural curls.
She seemed a nimble, leaping fairy scattering illusory auroras, or a humanoid gem refracting starlight and moonlight.
The woman cast an inquiring glance, clearly recognizing her.
“Xixi, what brings you here to play?”
The loli didn’t raise her eyes; her level gaze stayed fixed on the woman’s swollen belly.
“Aunt Loran, can I talk to my little cousin?” She waved the toy stethoscope in her hand, her voice childish and pleasant.
A charming smile bloomed on the woman’s pale face. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and said,
“Of course, dear. Remember to speak gently; don’t startle my little baby.”
“Yay!”
The loli beamed ecstatically, her mouth splitting wide to reveal a row of baby teeth missing two in the change—shattering the ethereal fairy grace of her pursed lips, turning her silly instead.
She approached cautiously, stuffing the toy stethoscope’s ends into her ears, then leaned in to press the chest piece lightly against her aunt’s bulging abdomen, listening curiously.
“…Save me… save me…”
An almost imperceptible voice trickled into her ears.
The loli’s expression froze, but normalized in an instant.
“What is she saying to you?”
The woman’s question drifted down from above, sounding inexplicably sinister.
Wind rustled fiercely; the window glass shivered violently.
The loli looked up, her little face wreathed in smiles.
“She says you’re the best mommy in the world.”
