PD -Chapter 192 The Mysterious Gacha Machine

Hearing Liu Xiaopeng’s question, Di Ting’s expression suddenly changed.

His usually half-closed eyes actually opened as he looked straight at Liu Xiaopeng.

The atmosphere in the room instantly turned tense. That question seemed to be a taboo.

I was afraid that Di Ting would once again unleash his terrifying primordial spirit like last time. With our current strength, just the pressure from his spirit alone would be enough to injure us internally and make us spit blood.

Fortunately, the silence only lasted a few seconds. Di Ting’s expression returned to its usual calm and gentle demeanor.

“So you want to know?” he said with a faint smile. “Then you’ll have to work hard. That’s classified information only S-rank senior executives are allowed to access. If you want to know, you’ll need to earn it.”

He glanced at Liu Xiaopeng.

Liu Xiaopeng sighed. “I knew you wouldn’t tell us easily.”

The atmosphere eased slightly. Di Ting continued, “We’ve got a lot of cases piled up right now that need handling. Since you’re now members of Zero Investigation Team, go to the case management room yourselves and pick cases you’re interested in.”

“Boss, don’t new employees usually get a welcome dinner?” I joked.

Di Ting chuckled twice. “Do you know how my salary is calculated?”

“Even as a team leader, you should be making at least a hundred thousand a year, right?” I guessed.

Di Ting shook his head. “My salary is paid in imported dog food. If you like it, I can treat you to some.”

I widened my eyes, nearly choking on his words.

It was rumored that Di Ting’s true form was a dog, who cultivated under Ksitigarbha Bodhisattva by listening to scriptures, eventually becoming a divine beast.

But hearing that his salary was dog food still made all of us stare blankly. Tang Shanshan even covered her mouth and burst out laughing.

After that joke, the atmosphere improved a lot. We chatted for a while longer about the current situation, some details about 507 Institute, and how to use resources in future operations.

That conversation lasted nearly two hours. We basically got a good understanding of the 507 Institute and the Zero Investigation Team.

After leaving Di Ting’s office, we went to the case archive room.

I had originally imagined the archive room of 507 Institute to be something like a traditional records storage facility—rows of cabinets filled with thick files, maybe even ladders needed to reach higher shelves.

But what we saw completely shattered that expectation.

On the first floor of the institute, we followed the route Di Ting had given us and walked down a corridor until we reached a room labeled “Archive Room / Case Selection Center.”

We pushed the door open.

We expected a staff member to guide us, but instead, the room was small and minimalist. In the center stood a huge machine.

It looked very cyberpunk-like. Around it were wooden wall-mounted boards and a few chairs—almost like a self-service café.

“…Is that a gacha machine?” I blurted out, staring at the machine that took up nearly half the room.

It wasn’t my imagination. The machine really did look like those capsule toy machines—put in a coin, get a capsule, maybe inside is an Ultraman figure.

“Don’t tell me we pick cases by drawing capsules?” Tang Shanshan asked.

“We’ll see,” Liu Xiaopeng said, already walking toward the machine.

There was no screen on it, only complex tubes and pipes. In front of it was a large button marked with a handprint, clearly meant to be pressed with a palm.

A small label beside it read: “Please activate using spiritual energy.”

Liu Xiaopeng looked at it and raised his right hand, placing it on the button.

Golden spiritual energy began to flow from his palm.

Click.

The button made a crisp sound, and the entire machine lit up with colorful flashing lights like a running marquee.

“Please wait.”

A slightly mechanical female voice sounded—likely the machine’s built-in system.

I stared at the flashing lights running through the pipes and suddenly noticed a pattern forming in them. A thought clicked in my mind.

“507 Institute really is impressive,” I couldn’t help but praise.

“How is this impressive? It’s just putting cases into capsules and letting us draw them like blind boxes,” Tang Shanshan said, shaking her head.

I smiled mysteriously. “On the surface it’s a gacha machine, but in reality there’s a hidden mechanism. Only an organization like 507 Institute—one that deeply understands mysticism—could come up with something like this.”

“What mechanism?” Liu Xiaopeng asked, turning to me.

I pointed at the lights. “Look closely at the positions of the lights.”

After a while, Liu Xiaopeng reacted first.

“These lights are arranged according to the Eight Gates!”

“Exactly.” I nodded. “The colors and positions correspond to the Eight Gates: Open, Rest, Life, Injury, Obstruction, View, Surprise, and Death.”

“In the system of Qimen Dunjia, the Eight Gates represent human affairs. They’re extremely important in divination.”

“Your spiritual energy activates the rotation of the gates. Then it selects a case based on your destiny.”

“Rather than you choosing a case, it’s more like fate itself is choosing for you.”

“And once a case is selected, it may even change your own destiny. So Zero Investigation Team members aren’t just handling cases for world peace… some of them might also be trying to alter their own fate.”

At that moment, a golden capsule rolled down through a transparent tube and dropped into the retrieval slot.

Liu Xiaopeng hesitated. After hearing my analysis, he seemed cautious—because this capsule might change his destiny.

But after a moment, he still bent down and picked it up.

He looked at it, then tossed it to me. I understood immediately—he wanted me to open it.

I twisted it open.

Inside was something the size of a thumb.

At first glance, I thought it was empty.

But when I picked it up, I realized it was a USB drive.

There was a computer nearby, so I walked over, plugged it in, and opened the files.

There were many documents—very detailed, neatly categorized in reading order.

I started going through them one by one.

The first file was a police investigation report.

Victim: Lin Xiaowan, 26-year-old female. Found dead in her rented apartment a week ago. The scene was horrific—her body was torn into 47 pieces. It took five days for forensic experts to piece her back together and confirm identity via DNA.

Among the 47 pieces, all organs and limbs were found except for one thing—her heart was missing.

Attached were numerous crime scene photos.

They were so grotesque that Tang Shanshan only took one look before turning pale and running to the side to vomit.

Even Liu Xiaopeng and I, as grown men, frowned deeply and felt a chill run down our backs.

The apartment looked like a hell on earth.

Walls, floor, bed, even the ceiling were all covered in blood, turning the entire room crimson.

Liu Xiaopeng frowned. “This… this doesn’t seem like something a human could do.”

I had just recovered from the shock and said through gritted teeth, “I’d rather believe it was done by some kind of evil entity.”

That was my honest thought. Because if a human could commit such brutality, how monstrous must they be? Such a person would be far more terrifying than any ghost or demon.

Isn’t there a saying? The most frightening thing in the world is not ghosts—it’s the human heart.

Liu Xiaopeng seemed to share my thoughts. We closed the photos and continued reading.

The next file was another criminal investigation report.

The victim was also brutally dismembered in the same way, and again the heart was missing.

This time, the victim was a 45-year-old male university professor.

“What kind of entity eats human hearts?” Liu Xiaopeng frowned.

At that moment, Tang Shanshan had returned, still pale, but rejoined the discussion.

“Didn’t you watch Journey to the West when you were a kid? Demons either eat flesh or dig out hearts. Maybe eating hearts increases their power,” she said.

But I was lost in thought.

By normal logic, most earthly spirits are formed from resentment and yin energy. They absorb natural energy and don’t need to eat.

As for other cultivated beings in the world—what Tang Shanshan called demons—they are actually extremely rare.

Beasts and divine beasts are essentially the same in nature. They cultivate through creation and energy, undergo tribulation, and aim for transformation.

The difference is simply their alignment—those who submit to contracts and systems become divine beasts, while those who remain outside the system and cause disturbances are demons.

But whether beast or divine beast, eating humans is not necessary.

Historically, there may be rumors of such things—but I believe it’s not a requirement. At most, it’s indulgence.

And the consequence of such indulgence is violating the natural order and incurring the wrath of both heaven and humanity.

So I had another idea.