PD -Chapter 65 Zero Investigation Group

I lay sprawled on the ground like a useless corpse.

At that moment, Tang Shanshan snapped back to awareness. Her dark eyes turned toward me—inside them, there was nothing but void. Not a trace of emotion remained.

She slowly raised her hand. A black short spear condensed in her palm. With a light flick of her wrist, the spear shot straight toward me.

Watching it fly at me, I let out a bitter smile. I tried to call out “Tang Shanshan” one more time, but realized my throat could no longer produce any sound.

Maybe… this is fine. Maybe it should just end like this.

I closed my eyes.

I felt the spear pierce my chest. I felt the warm rush of blood spilling out. Then everything faded into a deathly darkness—just like the black in Tang Shanshan’s eyes, filled with despair and emptiness.

I don’t know how much time passed before my consciousness slowly returned. I could hear people talking beside me.

Forcing my eyes open, I realized I was lying in a hospital room. Zhu Zhu and Liu Xiaopeng were sitting by my side, while a group of strangers stood on the other side of the bed.

I tried to sit up, but a sharp pain in my chest nearly suffocated me.

The earlier scenes flooded back into my mind all at once, pressing down on me like a massive stone. But it seemed… I hadn’t died. The only question was—how was Tang Shanshan now?

“Brother Han, you’re awake!” Liu Xiaopeng noticed I had opened my eyes and stood up excitedly.

Everyone in the room stopped talking and turned their attention toward me. My thoughts were pulled back into reality.

“Who are you people?” I asked, looking at the unfamiliar group.

“They’re the ones who brought you here. The hospital was also arranged by them,” Liu Xiaopeng added.

“Hello, Mr. Qiu.” A young man stepped forward from the group. He had very fair skin and a cold, composed face. He smiled slightly and nodded at me.

“We are from the Zero Investigation Group.”

As he spoke, he handed me a business card. I looked at it and saw a strange name printed on it—“Di Ting.”

That name felt oddly familiar, but my mind was still foggy, so I couldn’t immediately grasp why.

And as for this Zero Investigation Group, I had never heard of them before. I had no idea what kind of organization they were.

Seeing my confusion, the young man called Di Ting continued explaining:

“The Zero Investigation Group is affiliated with the 507 Institute. I believe you should be familiar with it.”

The moment I heard “507 Institute,” my mind jolted violently awake.

The so-called 507 Institute refers to the Military Unit 507 Research Institute…

On the surface, it is mainly engaged in “human body science,” aerospace medicine research, as well as astronaut selection, training, and development.

Among its key figures was a heavyweight professor surnamed Qian, who had participated in numerous major national projects and was one of the founding contributors to the independent development of nuclear weapons.

Many people first heard of this institution during the “Qigong craze” of the 1980s, when the 507 Institute was said to have studied so-called “special human abilities.”

However, few people knew that during that era, aside from exposing frauds and fake masters, they also collected a large amount of data on individuals who truly possessed extraordinary abilities. Among them, practitioners of Taoist arts and spiritual energy cultivation made up a significant portion.

Later, due to scientific development and growing public skepticism, the 507 Institute gradually faded from public view…

It was said to have been renamed the “Aerospace Medical Engineering Research Institute,” focusing on medical technology research.

But those who knew the truth understood that the 507 Institute had never truly been dissolved or restructured. Instead, it had become even more powerful—quietly forming a highly classified organization responsible for handling supernatural and anomalous incidents. Their operations were extremely secretive, rarely known to the outside world.

And now, people from the 507 Institute had come to me. I could only assume they were already aware of the threat posed by Tang Shanshan and Marcus, and had no choice but to intervene.

“Mr. Qiu, the emergence of the Ghost Emperor has been classified by our bureau as a Zero-Level Incident. Our entire investigation team is now handling this case.”

“You are the sole inheritor of The Record of Stealing Heaven’s Mysteries. We ask that you cooperate with us to stop the schemes of the Ghost Emperor and Lucifer. Otherwise, the entire world may fall into catastrophe.”

“What… exactly is their plan?” I hesitated. I still couldn’t bring myself to believe everything that had happened was real. Part of me desperately wished it had all been a nightmare…

And that when I woke up, my bizarre landlady would still be knocking on the door, urging me to pay rent.

Di Ting thought for a moment. It seemed this explanation required careful organization.

“In simple terms, their goal is to restart the apocalypse. To merge the Eastern and Western underworlds into a single dimension, and overturn the entire human realm.”

He stroked his chin, speaking calmly—but every word carried shocking weight.

“In fact, centuries ago, they had already attempted this once. But back then, they failed. Lucifer and the Ghost Emperor were respectively sealed by the Four Archangels and Ksitigarbha Bodhisattva.”

At the mention of Ksitigarbha, I suddenly had a flash of insight—I finally understood the origin of the name in front of me.

Di Ting… the divine beast that lies beneath the desk of Ksitigarbha Bodhisattva. Legend says its true form is a white celestial dog that can discern all things by listening, especially able to perceive the human heart.

Could it be… this overly pale young man really was the divine beast Di Ting?

Seeing my changing expression as I studied him, he seemed to read my thoughts and merely smiled faintly.

“You guessed correctly. I was appointed by that one to act as his proxy in this matter. He is bound by a vow and cannot appear personally.”

“‘Beings are innumerable, I vow to save them; hell is not empty, I vow not to attain Buddhahood.’”

I recalled the Buddhist vow I had once read before. Of course, I recognized what he was referring to.

But too much overwhelming information had just been forced into my mind, slowing my reaction.

After a moment, Di Ting continued:

“No one expected it… after hundreds of years, they never abandoned their plan. In fact, they have only intensified it.”

“And this time… they may be even harder to deal with than before.”

“Why do you say that?” I frowned and asked.

Di Ting paused for a moment, then raised one hand. Two fingers slowly pressed toward my forehead.