The commissioner jumped down from the ventilation duct and spoke in a low voice. Noid turned to face her, but didn't say a word. She paid him no mind and continued, exposing the truth about the place they called a "breeding camp."
"Men and women of a certain age are thrown into these rooms and locked up. Periodically, they're injected with aphrodisiacs and hallucinogens to make them mate."
Noid remained silent, but she could hear the grinding of his knuckles. The commissioner didn't stop, her voice echoing throughout the room.
"Their goal is to get newborns, but not in the usual way. They also inject the women with three different types of drugs. They boost hormones, stimulate ovulation and fetal growth, and accelerate the pregnancy. Along with that, they continuously supplement them with high-level nutrients."
"By constantly using aphrodisiacs and hallucinogens, a woman can give birth to ten children in a single month. These children are much lighter than premature infants; half of them die in the womb, and the next half die at birth. You can probably imagine what the cultists do with the ones that don't die."
The commissioner's voice faltered slightly, then she continued.
"And even if they were rescued, they would only be defective children who couldn't live past the age of one."
"As for the people in these cells... they have been completely destroyed, both physically and mentally. After a few months, they will be exhausted and die. They are beyond saving."
The commissioner fell silent, and so did Noid. At that moment, a sound came from a cell. A woman woke up and dragged her ravaged body to the corner of the room. He turned to look, and the woman was cradling a bundle of rags. Noid could vaguely make out that it was the decomposed corpse of a newborn, so old that only the skull and two eye sockets were recognizable.
This woman wasn't just holding one corpse like that; there were many piled on top of each other. But because they were so small, they fit in the woman's arms. They were all skulls that were only a little bigger than an apple.
Even though the rotting corpses were stuck to her, and her eyes had become dull and lifeless, she still rocked the pile of corpses in her arms as if she were lulling her children to sleep.
The commissioner couldn't bear to watch and turned her head away. Noid just stood rooted to the spot.
Amid the silence, the sound of conversation drifted in from outside the door.
"Ugh, it's time to pump the sows with drugs again. What bad luck, we should be in the prayer hall right now."
"Don't talk about it, just get it done. If you're bored, you can always mess with the ones in here."
"No thanks, looking at these sows makes me want to puke. They've been used for months, so they're all worn out. If you want, you should play with the new ones that just came in; they're still fresh. Haha."
"You're right, next time I'll ask to be assigned to that room. Wouldn't want them to get stale if we wait too long."
Two cultists wearing hooded outfits came in. Their casual conversation was filled with vile and disgusting content. Noid's emotions exploded.
BAM!!
The commissioner only felt a gust of wind rush past her. Then, there was a crashing sound behind her. Turning her head, she saw Noid had grabbed the two cultists by the neck and slammed them against the wall. The impact was so strong that chunks of the wall fell off. He wasn't finished. His fist, like a sledgehammer, hammered into one of their chests, shattering all of his ribs and crushing his left lung. The other man didn't have time to scream or raise an alarm. His last moment was seeing Noid's foot stomp on his skull, crushing it like a watermelon.
Fresh blood dripped from his fist. At that moment, Noid truly looked like a rampaging beast.
The brutal and bloody scene didn't elicit any reaction from the commissioner. She understood Noid's emotions all too well. It was just like the first time she had gone to the second area of the kitchen.
He stood in front of the woman's cell, watching her rock her long-dead children. Even though he could easily kill the people who had brought her so much suffering and reduced her to this state, he couldn't save this mother, nor could he bring her children back. The only thing he could do was to let the woman pass away peacefully, as a final comfort to her before she entered the cycle of reincarnation.
"Let's go."
The commissioner didn't look back and climbed into the ventilation duct. Noid took one last look at the place, then followed her.
Through this underground path, he saw the darkest secrets of the Doom cult. The kitchen the commissioner had gone to earlier, the laboratory with piles of twisted, mutated corpses. Many prayer rooms had incomplete cultists and a group of cultists kneeling, mumbling their incomprehensible language.
He also saw survivors busily eating their meals, completely unaware that this food was made from the ground and cooked bodies of other humans. He saw them corrupting others, slowly turning them into cultists who worshiped the doom just like them.
Noid didn't just watch anymore; he came out and wreaked havoc, punching, kicking, and smashing everything. He beat the guards bloody, continuously killing incomplete cultists. The two blades on Noid's arms swung relentlessly as he ran and killed. Then, he would hide in the ventilation duct and continue moving.
Deep inside the stronghold, the leader of this place, one of the bishop's three subordinates, was listening to reports from the cultists below.
"You guys need to handle it properly; the sacrificial ritual must not be ruined. The Doom Lord will be very angry."
He waved them off and continued to engross himself in preparing the offerings for the ritual. All the offerings were prepared by him because he believed that it was the only way to prove his loyalty to the Doom Lord.
The offerings were the babies from the breeding camp. After they were born, these babies would be stimulated to grow, transforming into the equivalent of a two- or three-year-old child. This process took one month, which was the cycle of each ritual.
Even though their bodies looked like they were two or three years old, their real age was only a little over a month. So they didn't know how to crawl, how to roll over, how to walk, or how to talk. Their bodies were extremely weak because it was the effect of the drugs.
The leaders of the Doom cult were the bishop, Toriel, Garfeild, and the manager of this stronghold. Of the four, the bishop's motivations were his fear of death and his hatred of humanity, Toriel's was his enjoyment of twisting and corrupting others, and Garfeild's was for the bishop. Only the manager truly worshiped the Doom Lord out of all four.
The manager placed twenty children on a large table as if he were arranging a meal. He was even proud as he witnessed the tidiness of the large table. He glanced at the clock and realized it was almost time for the ritual. The manager, escorted by cultists, entered a large room.