122: Chapter 122 Mental Dimensional Reduction Strike

Deep within the ruins, that eerie chanting did not dissipate with the arrest of Xiao Aotian; instead, like a rebound after being suppressed, it became increasingly high-pitched and sharp.

Gu Changan frowned and followed the sound, rounding a collapsed red wall.

The scene before them stunned the Special Police following behind him.

On the only remaining intact foundation of the original "Aotian Sect" plaza, over thirty people sat cross-legged.

These people were slightly older, mostly youths between fifteen or sixteen and their early twenties, all wearing identical green robes. Although they were equally sallow and thin, everyone's eyes were frighteningly bright, revealing a near-pathological fanaticism.

They held hands, forming a circle, protecting the broken stele engraved with "Dao Follows Nature" in the center, chanting nonsensical scriptures in unison.

"Heaven and Earth are unkind, treating all things as straw dogs… The Old Ancestor has met with calamity; we Disciples should sacrifice ourselves for the Dao, using these flesh and blood bodies to awaken the slumbering Heavenly Dao…"

The leader was a youth in his early twenties with long hair draped over his shoulders, holding an unsharpened iron sword, glaring furiously at the surrounding Special Police who were watching like tigers eyeing their prey.

"Back off! Everyone back off!" the youth roared, his voice hoarse. "Whoever dares to take a step forward, we will go on a collective hunger strike! We will attain enlightenment through death here! When the Old Ancestor returns from Ascension, he will surely reduce you lackeys to ashes!"

"Yes! Attain enlightenment through death! Sacrifice for the Dao!"

Dozens of people behind him shouted in unison, their posture suggesting that if Gu Changan dared to make a move, they would immediately crash themselves to death against that broken stele.

Chen Xiaobei ran over, hugging his equipment, his face grave: "Team Leader, these people seem to have been deeply brainwashed. According to the data, these are Xiao Aotian's so-called 'Inner Sect Personal Disciples', and they are the batch that has been brainwashed the most thoroughly. Just now, when the drone tried to approach, they threw stones at it; their emotions are extremely unstable."

Gu Changan looked at those young yet twisted faces and gave a cold snort: "Sacrifice for the Dao? Attain enlightenment through death? To think they can describe not wanting to go to school and escaping reality in such a fresh and refined way."

He raised his hand, stopping the Special Police team that was preparing to force an assault.

If they were to storm such fanatics, it was very possible that lives would be lost. If public opinion shifted, it would only give scum like Xiao Aotian an opportunity to exploit.

"When dealing with a cult, physical strikes are the inferior strategy; attacking the heart is the superior strategy." Gu Changan turned around and issued a series of instructions into the walkie-talkie.

"Contact the Municipal Mental Health Center and have them send over the best psychological intervention experts, along with straitjackets and sedatives."

"Also, notify the Propaganda Department to bring up that set of 'gear'. Yes, that full-power set."

Half an hour later.

That group of "Inner Sect Disciples" remained sitting on the ruins with their eyes closed, looking as if "No matter the wind from all directions, I remain unmoved."

The leader youth even smugly curled the corners of his mouth; in his view, the Mortal government was indeed afraid of their "Dao Heart".

However, a dull roar of engines shattered their illusions.

Six heavy broadcast trucks painted in military green surrounded the foundation in a triangular formation.

On the roofs of the trucks, huge horn-shaped loudspeakers slowly rose, like pitch-black gun barrels, pointing directly at the center.

Immediately after, dozens of psychology experts in white coats lined up outside the cordon, holding notebooks, their eyes looking as if they were watching a group of lab rats waiting to be slaughtered.

The leader youth's eyelids twitched, and he shouted, feigning calmness: "Junior Brothers, hold steady! These are merely the decadent sounds of Mortals! As long as we keep our spiritual platforms clear, this kind of physical sound wave cannot harm our Divine Soul at all!"

"Guard the spiritual platform! Heart like ice, unfazed even if the sky collapses!" The Disciples shouted in unison, closing their eyes again and increasing the volume of their chanting, attempting to use human voices to counter the impending technology.

Gu Changan stood by the command vehicle, put on noise-canceling earmuffs, and waved his hand expressionlessly.

"Volume to eighty percent. Playlist A: Childhood Trauma Series."

Zzz—

A sharp screech of microphone feedback instantly pierced the sky, and immediately after, that familiar melody, engraved in the DNA of every Chinese child, exploded with unprecedented decibels.

"In this world, only Mother is good~ A child with a mother is like a treasure~"

360-degree surround stereo, every note enhanced by professional amplifiers, carrying the power to shake the chest cavity, drilled straight into those Disciples' ears.

The bodies of the people sitting in meditation shuddered violently.

This song was too familiar. Familiar enough to make them instantly recall the warmth of being held in their mother's arms when they were little, and that steaming bowl of noodles when they were sick.

"Hold steady! This is a Heart Demon!" the leader youth roared through gritted teeth. "This is a demonic sound meant to disturb our Dao Heart! Keep chanting!"

Gu Changan looked at the slightly trembling figures on the surveillance screen, the corners of his mouth curling up slightly.

"Change the song. Serve the main course. Playlist B: Kind Greetings from Parents."

The music stopped abruptly.

In its place, images suddenly lit up on the large screen, accompanied by heart-wrenching cries coming from the loudspeakers.

"Er Dan! You thousand-knife-slaying wretch! Your dad broke his leg riding his bike yesterday because he was in such a rush to find you, and he's still lying in the hospital! What kind of Cultivation are you still trying to do!"

"Cuihua! Mom begs you! Come back quickly! Even the cat at home isn't eating!"

"Xiaoqiang! Didn't you say you wanted to get into Tsinghua University? Look at your ghostly appearance now, you're not even as good as a beggar!"

Video clips played one after another. Those parents, who had become haggard from searching for their children, either knelt before the camera or held up photos of their children and wept bitterly.

Every cry was like a heavy hammer, smashing fiercely against the hearts of these "Cultivators".

That hard shell known as the "Dao Heart" began to show cracks.

Some secretly opened their eyes, their eye sockets turning red. The voices of some chanting began to go off-key, becoming choked with sobs.

The leader youth's forehead was covered in cold sweat, and he frantically struck the iron sword in his hand: "Don't look! Don't listen! Those are all Karmic Obstructions of the Mortal World! They are stumbling blocks hindering our Ascension!"

Gu Changan looked at the leader who was still putting up a desperate resistance and said coldly: "It seems the dosage is still not enough. Deploy the ultimate weapon."

"Playlist C: The Brutal Beating of Nine-Year Compulsory Education."

The large screen went black.

The next second, an emotionless AI synthesized voice, accompanied by extremely dry mathematical formula derivation images, began to loop throughout the venue.

"Odd changes, even stays the same; check the quadrant for the sign…"

"Let function f(x) be continuous on the interval [a, b] and differentiable within (a, b)…"

"Hydrogen, Helium, Lithium, Beryllium, Boron, Carbon, Nitrogen, Oxygen, Fluorine, Neon…"

This kind of dry, rational, and absolutely objective sound was, to this group of teenagers immersed in fantasies of "Heaven-Defying Fate-Changing" and "Ascension of the Whole World", practically mental torture.

Logic is the nemesis of all teenage delusions.

Those watertight formulas were like scalpels, ruthlessly dissecting the false worlds they had constructed.

"Ahhh! Stop chanting! I don't want to hear about functions! I don't want to memorize the periodic table of elements!"

Finally, a younger Disciple broke down. He covered his ears and rolled on the ground, his previously indestructible "Dao Heart" shattering into pieces in an instant.

"Senior Brother! My head hurts so much! I feel like these formulas are attacking my Sea of Consciousness!"

"This isn't a demonic sound at all! This is… this is Math! It's Math that is even more terrifying than a Heavenly Tribulation!"

Twenty-four hours of continuous bombardment.

During the day, it was Math, Chinese, and English; at night, it was "Come Home Often" and recordings of parents crying.

This group of "Cultivators", who usually only ate black steamed buns and were already physically weak, saw their defenses completely collapse under the dual torment of mind and body.

At this moment, inside a detention center dozens of kilometers away.

Xiao Aotian grabbed the iron bars with both hands, staring fixedly at the surveillance TV hanging on the wall.

That was the live broadcast signal that Gu Changan had "thoughtfully" had someone connect for him.

On the screen, his most proud "Senior Disciple", the youth who had sworn to protect his Dao for a lifetime, was currently kneeling on the ground, snot and tears streaming down his face, singing along with the broadcast: "Must come home often to take a look… come home to take a look…"