"What did I reveal?" Zhao Pengcheng asked.
Qingmu said, "You told me not to try anything with you, to not try to get information out of you, doesn't that just prove you're hiding something from me, from the police, from all of humanity? Am I right?"
"No, that's not right." Zhao Pengcheng remained calm. "I've already confessed everything. Besides, this is a dream; our subconscious is communicating, and the subconscious doesn't lie."
Qingmu laughed; he suddenly found this alien quite amusing.
"Yes, the subconscious doesn't lie because it directly accesses and displays the brain's memory information. The speech in dreams isn't actually speaking, but rather a direct presentation of memory information, without needing to go through the language center. However, most of our memories are formed and understood through language, and information is communicated through language. So, when our conscious mind is awake and recreating the dream, it's as if our conscious communication is speaking."
Qingmu unconsciously recalled the source of information in the Ghost dream. Because computers do not rely on language logic for understanding, the information source does not unfold in a way that resembles human communication.
"That's what I thought when I first entered your dream, because I saw you as your subconscious," Qingmu continued. "But you woke up, as you yourself said. Of course, even if you hadn't said it, I would have known, though perhaps a little later. When a person is lucid, the subconscious and conscious mind exist simultaneously. Your subconscious doesn't lie, but your conscious mind does. So, a person in a lucid dream might not lie to themselves, but they can lie to others."
"Your theory is pure nonsense; there's never been such a thing in medicine." Another drop of blood dripped from the scalpel in Zhao Pengcheng's hand, falling to the ground with a soft thud. This time it was clearly his own blood, because he turned away and never touched the patient again.
Qingmu ignored his rebuttal and said, "If you pretend not to know you're dreaming, just like last time, and if you do it well, maybe I'll be fooled again and believe what you say."
"What are you talking about...? What did I pretend to be?" Zhao Pengcheng frowned.
Qingmu said, "Actually, I've always been wondering, since life forms like you can exist temporarily detached from matter and can drive away or eliminate the consciousness of others through invasion, you should have a naturally awakened consciousness. We've investigated Parasitic Consciousness for so long, but I never suspected you because your behavior during that dream interrogation was exactly like that of an ordinary person who doesn't have lucid dreaming abilities. But what you just said was full of loopholes, and it suddenly dawned on me that you were faking it last time."
What vulnerability?
"Lucid dreaming isn't easy to learn; it usually requires a certain talent. Since you couldn't do it before, how could you suddenly learn it just because I hypnotized you once? Being lucid in a dream relies on Mental Power, not some kind of sudden enlightenment."
How do you know I don't have talent?
"Even if you have talent, there's a gradual process involved. And that's not the point. The point is—even if someone learns lucid dreaming, or is even a natural lucid dreamer, and becomes accustomed to being awake in a dream, it's impossible for them to be completely unresponsive to another consciousness entering their dream. Anyone encountering another consciousness in a dream will see it as an intruder and will take self-protective measures. And the best way to protect oneself is to exit the dream. Even for someone with strong Mental Power, the dream space constructed by their subconscious will be shaken, or even collapse. But you, when you realize you're having a lucid dream, when you discover that I, an intruder who doesn't belong to your dream, have entered, neither your Mental Power nor this space shows the slightest fluctuation. That's truly strange!"
Zhao Pengcheng did not deny it. His silent body trembled slightly, and more blood dripped down the scalpel in his hand. The blood droplets seemed to be thicker than before.
Qingmu glanced at the bloodstains on the ground, took a few steps closer, and said:
"Last time, you didn't keep quiet to protect Old Yu, but to distract the police and keep their attention on organ trafficking, thus avoiding their focus on the vegetative patient. Furthermore, to achieve this, you deliberately lured two innocent people to a hotel and removed their kidneys using a widely circulated, almost mythical, method. This was a deliberate attempt to conceal your true motive for killing the vegetative patient and to cover up the existence of the Gray Brain Virus."
"The police, under pressure from their superiors and public opinion, were eager to solve the case and even resorted to exhaustive interrogation of you. At that time, you implicated Old Yu, making the police think they had caught a big fish. In fact, the police did indeed reap a considerable reward, and thus your goal was achieved. No one cared anymore about you taking someone's brain."
"Nonsense!" Zhao Pengcheng sneered. "If you hadn't used such despicable means, I wouldn't have been able to expose Old Yu at all."
Qingmu laughed, "I just happened to be there. The police have many interrogation methods. Even if I hadn't come, you would have confessed by now, because the time was right. With me here, you took advantage of my hypnosis to say what you wanted to say. Moreover, this statement was given in a fake subconscious state, which will make it even more believable."
"Think back carefully, everything you confessed in your dream that day was just old, trivial stuff, like a melodramatic performance by an actor on a reality TV show. The whole thing was just complaining, saying that the people you killed were all bastards. And the judge did believe that, which is why you got a suspended sentence. It's a pity that when I asked you why you took the brain of the person in a vegetative state, Officer Hu interrupted me on the phone, otherwise I really wanted to know how you would have answered."
"That nonsense about wanting to practice brain surgery might fool Yu Jianguo, but it won't fool me. If you had said that back then, I would have been suspicious, and your feigned subconsciousness would have been exposed. But I believe you must have made up another lie to make me believe it. Luckily, Officer Hu's phone call ruined things; otherwise, if your lie hadn't had many flaws, I might have believed it. And because I'm convinced that what you said was in a subconscious state and absolutely true, I probably wouldn't have doubted you to this day. That way, you could have spent the rest of your life in prison peacefully, or your comrades might have had a chance to get you out."
Zhao Pengcheng listened silently, appearing very calm. His body, which had been trembling, had calmed down, with only blood still dripping from the scalpel. The scalpel in his hand had turned red, as if it had been burned in fire.
"Since you already know, why are you still coming to me?" he said.
Qingmu shook his head. "There are still many things I don't know, and I hope you can tell me."
"Do you think I'd tell you?" Zhao Pengcheng sneered, flicking his wrist as a streak of crimson fire shot from the scalpel in his hand, flying towards Qingmu.
Qingmu clearly felt the scorching aura emanating from the blade, carrying a strong and sharp Mental Power capable of harming the consciousness.