Chapter 11 - 11

Chapter 50 ChoiceTitle of the Book:Mystery: From Apprentice to High-Dimensional OverlookerAuthor's name: BambooChapter word count: 5598 wordsUpdate time: 2022-10-13 15:30:05

Someone pushed his shoulder roughly, and Douglas subconsciously wiped the rain from his eyes and looked up.

Francois's rough face appeared before him. Noticing his stunned expression, he frowned, put his strong arms around Douglas's shoulders, and forcibly pulled him up: "There's another one."

"Varied..."

"There was still one alive. The guy shot at a bad angle and one of the bullets hit me."

As he spoke, Francois pressed the gunshot wound on his waist with his hand. Blood gushed out as he pressed, and was quickly diluted by the rain.

As if his eyes were stung by the bright red, Douglas raised his hand again and rubbed his face hard, barely regaining the ability to think.

The vampires had profound attainments in medicine, and through what they had seen and heard, Douglas at least remembered the locations of important organs in the human body. He made a quick assessment and confirmed that the bullet had only penetrated a very shallow part of the flank, and there was no risk of being fatal in the short term.

Francois was confident in his physique. He pulled him away from the two agents who were shot dead in the forehead and came to the agent who was originally in charge of the steam high-pressure rifle. He said with a gloomy face: "I'm fine, but he may not be. Look, the bullet hit the chest, but it didn't penetrate."

The agent who was knocked unconscious in the fight woke up again because of the pain of the gunshot and lay on the ground groaning weakly. Douglas squatted down and found that the position of the bullet was indeed quite bad. It might have hit the stomach or liver. It seemed that the amount of bleeding was not much, but in fact most of the blood flowed into the abdominal cavity, causing severe internal bleeding.

"We have to send him to the hospital to save him..." Douglas took a deep breath and reached into his shirt pocket to search. The blood and rain made the small glass bottles slip between his fingers. He had to squeeze them tightly, take them out, pull out the cork, and then pour the light green liquid into the wounded man's throat. "The medicine can only suppress his pulse and metabolism and reduce the amount of bleeding, but the bullet must be taken out as soon as possible."

After saying this, he stuffed the same potion into Francois's hand and looked around anxiously, trying to determine the location of this place.

Although he could use "travel", he was not a true "traveler" and could not go anywhere he wanted. If he wanted to send the wounded back to Backlund, he at least had to know the relative position and distance between this place and Backlund.

But looking around, there were only trees standing silently in the dim rain, and nothing to indicate the direction.

Douglas could only pat the wounded man's face without any hope and asked, "Do you know where this is?"

The wounded soldier, whose face had turned somewhat pale, looked at him as if he were a fool, and said with intermittent gasps: "This is not your, ahem, your trap...? How would I know..."

Unexpectedly, Francois, who had swallowed the potion, took off his shirt and made a simple bandage for the wounded and himself, while answering the question: "Go north first. I hear the sound of the river. If we find the Sotak River, we can find Backlund downstream."

"The sound of the river?" Douglas looked at him in disbelief and tried to listen, but could only hear the sound of heavy rain.

"Just like the Church of Night needs to patrol the cemetery, the Church of Storm will patrol all waters within Backlund. We are very familiar with the Sotak River. And I am a 'navigator', so my sense of water flow will not be wrong."

There was no other way, they could only follow Francois' instructions and head north. The tall Mandated Punisher, despite his own injuries, carried the wounded and walked in front to lead the way.

Douglas walked on the rain-soaked ground, one foot deep and one foot shallow, his eyes fixed on the ground, unable to concentrate.

That moment was still flashing back in his mind.

That moment when Tyran pulled the trigger.

He thought the enemy was targeting him, so he dodged in a direction away from the hostages to avoid accidental injury. But from the results, it seemed that Taillon was trying to kill his colleague to silence him. Of the five bullets, except for the one blocked by Francois, the remaining four were accurately delivered to the fatal spot.

If I hadn't made a threatening move, if I hadn't dodged, if I had attacked or blocked more aggressively, if...

Countless "ifs" filled his mind, but in the end they were all abstracted into two corpses with their eyes open. Douglas's breathing became uncontrollably rapid, he suddenly stopped, covered his mouth with his hands, and felt dizzy.

"Is this the first time you've seen a dead person?"

Francois' voice came from above. His tone was unusually calm, as if it was not something worth mentioning. I don't know if it was the question or the nonchalant attitude that worked, but it made the young magician start to catch up.

"...No." Douglas replied in a low voice. He had seen it all, whether it was from the original owner's memory, or when he traveled through the East District, or even when he and Anthony and others investigated the demon serial murder case, he had seen skeletons and bodies cut into pieces. He had also experienced all the reactions that a normal person would have, such as nausea, vomiting, insomnia, etc.

He thought he had accepted it, but...

"This is different." Douglas muttered, thinking for a long time before finding the right words, "I have seen dead people, but I have never seen... I have never seen a living person die like this."

"Really…" The Mandated Punisher sighed deeply, "It's not your fault, brother. You didn't shoot me. Although sometimes… Let me put it this way, the first time I encountered such a situation was when I was testing the seal in the underground of the church."

Although he didn't look back, Francois still caught some emotions from Douglas's hesitant footsteps. He chuckled and pretended to be relaxed and continued, "Don't ask me to describe the scene at that time. It's enough to keep me from going to heaven. Well... Anyway, let's put aside the things that can't be changed. The real trouble is still to come."

Although it sounded dry and preachy, Francoia did not make it up. He himself was not very happy to recall those experiences. After all, the seal that was tested was very aggressive and the scene was very restricted. From then on, he left all the work of escorting wild Beyonders for testing to his team members, and he never set foot in the testing area again.

Fortunately, after a brief silence, he heard the person behind him whisper, "I almost forgot that I'm already an official Beyonder. How scary."

It should be okay to joke around... Francois heaved a sigh of relief. The big raindrops made the leaves crackle, but he caught the familiar sound of the rushing river in the noise.

Sure enough, as the trees gradually became sparse, a wide but muddy river appeared before our eyes.

Francois put down the wounded man who was about to faint, and observed the topography of the river upstream and downstream. Suddenly, he was pleasantly surprised to find a very obvious landmark: "I know! This is the suburb northwest of Backlund. Beyond the lake is the famous 'Meige Manor'."

Two years ago, due to an extraordinary event that Francoia did not understand the reason for, the ground here collapsed, causing groundwater to surge up, forming a lake, which almost affected the "Meige Manor" purchased by a gentleman. The Storm Church regularly patrols the waters to clean up extraordinary products such as water ghosts, and this lake naturally becomes the focus of its work.

He quickly explained to Douglas: "It takes about an hour to drive from 'Meige Manor' to Backlund by carriage..."

With the information of direction and distance, Douglas reached out and grabbed Francois and the wounded man by the shoulders and immediately launched "Creeping Hunger".

The colorful and thick blocks of color, the transparent and elegant spiritual creatures, these magnificent scenes that once attracted his attention, now did not attract Douglas's attention at all. The coordinates of the spiritual world were extremely disordered, and he had to remember where he was going in order to find the right path with the help of the seal.

Fortunately, in the end, the figures of three people flashed and appeared on a street in the East District.

Although the closest straight-line distance was definitely to Queens or the West Side, Douglas was not familiar with that area. Three living people suddenly appearing on the street might cause even greater trouble, so he finally "traveled" to the street where the East Side and the North Side met.

"You take him to the hospital," Douglas said, and was about to "travel" back to the jungle again.

Francois stopped him in a hurry: "Wait a minute, let's take this guy to the hospital, and then I'll go back with you!"

"I know how far this place is from the hospital. It's too late! The situation over at Winkle's is still uncertain!"

"Why don't you use this teleportation again and send us directly to the hospital?"

"Should we just leave him in the hall? Doesn't it take time to go through the formalities?" Douglas said with a grim expression, "Besides... my spiritual power is not enough. This seal is much stronger than my own sequence, and I can only use it a few more times."

Even without considering the side effects, the total amount of spirituality limits the use of a Sequence 8 Seal that controls a Sequence 5 Seal. Douglas didn't mention this issue before because he thought he could deal with Tyron quickly. With Fransoya's good attack ability helping Winkel, it would be enough to deal with the witch in theory.

Francois was stunned for a moment, then continued to ask: "Then, give me the seal and let me go back? At least I am better at frontal combat than you!"

But Douglas still shook his head: "You also know that I borrowed this seal at a price, and I have no right to give it to you. Don't worry, I will not die."

If the "Creeping Hunger" was not Amon's, the best solution would be for Francois to go back, but that was the fact, and Douglas had no other choice.

Having said that, Francois was at his wit's end. He couldn't just abandon Winkel and pretend nothing had happened.

"Forty minutes." Francois said suddenly, frowning, looking somewhat reluctant. "I will contact the church after I send this guy to the hospital. With the ability of the Archbishop and his men, plus the time it takes to file reports and travel, you must at least catch the traitor from MI9 and hide Winkle completely within forty minutes."

He spoke very quickly, interrupting Douglas's unspoken question rudely: "MI9 will definitely not let this go, but if we only listen to their one-sided story, we will soon be in the Inquisition! So I have to give the church a heads up in advance to leave some room. Remember, we know nothing, we just attended the Beyonder gathering and were involved in an accident! Everything is the work of that traitor! You must catch him!"

After saying that, Francois turned around and ran out of the alley towards the North District without waiting for Douglas to respond. After all, the agent on his back had been in the rain for so long and had fainted again. If he didn't hold on tighter, it would be a waste of his life to save him.

Douglas said no more. The human leather glove on his left hand became transparent again, and he disappeared on the spot.

-

The rising flames continued to emit scorching heat, evaporating the falling raindrops into bursts of misty white mist.

But the rain seemed to pour down from the gray sky endlessly, with no sign of abating.

"This rain is falling at a really bad time..."

Winkle thought absentmindedly as he pressed his flame-covered palm against his wound.

There was a sizzling sound accompanied by a burning smell. The skin and flesh around the wound were melted and deformed by the high temperature. The terminal cells quickly turned black and died, blocking the outflow of blood.

She treated her wound with a grimace on her face, but her speed of running did not slow down at all.

At the same time, Winkle had to constantly control himself from thinking about irrelevant things to avoid having overly intense emotions.

For example, those two idiots haven't come yet. Could it be that they were killed before me?

Men are so unreliable!

As he was sighing, he caught a glimpse of a dazzling reflection from the corner of his eye. Winkle immediately stopped and jumped back to avoid the sudden black flame filled with curse. At the same time, he raised a strangely shaped revolver in his hand and fired a shot very casually.

The bullet penetrated into the tree trunk more than ten meters away. At the same time, Winkel's figure faded and disappeared from his original place, appearing next to the tree hit by the bullet.

And in that dazzling reflection, a dark figure suddenly emerged. It was the witch Cortina who had been entangled with the hunter.

However, at this moment, Cortina's lavender eyes, which should have been gentle and rippling, were filled with turbid black, her clean white skin was covered with a layer of coarse black hair-like substance, and the faint and elegant fragrance on her body had been replaced by a pungent smell of sulfur.

These strange changes turned the beauty who any man would be willing to kiss into a monster that exuded weirdness and madness.

The monster itself seemed to have no awareness of anything. Holding a twisted, goat-horn-shaped short stick in her right hand, Cortina looked at Winkle, who did not try to escape, and still covered her lips with a charming gesture, giggling.

"Hehe... this is probably your last bullet, right? I didn't expect that you still had this kind of seal. Haha, hahahahahaha, what a pity! Now, where can you run to? Hahahahahaha!"

The hunter smoothed his long hair that was soaked by rain and stuck to his forehead in a mess, looked at his opponent seriously, and said, "My dear, I didn't expect you to be driven crazy by your own seal. It's really... amazing."

As she spoke, she snapped her fingers, and the tiny flame suddenly burned into a long line in the air. If you look closely, you can see that what is being burned by the flame is not the air but a transparent silk thread that has almost no outline.

But the next second, the silk thread from Cortina was also stained with flames, and the black and purple sulfur fire with a pungent smell rushed up along the silk thread. It collided and confronted with the hunter's fiery fire. On the grass below the silk thread, strings of ice spikes grew rapidly one after another, piercing everything in their way.

Winkle used the fire and his own agility to dodge the attacks, but his eyes were always fixed on the sheep-horn short staff.

When she saw Cortina raising the short staff, she immediately held her breath and concentrated her energy, trying to clear her mind of all distracting thoughts. At the same time, she took out the dagger that had cut her flesh many times in the past half hour.

As the blood-red light on the short staff rose and fluctuated, Winkle's mind became involuntarily dazed. All kinds of huge and deformed desires rose in vain, filling her chest, like a balloon inflated to the limit, trembling and about to burst.

Almost unconsciously, Winkle stabbed the dagger into his thigh accurately, as if he was a robot executing a set program.

Puff! The blade sank into the body, trembling and leaving a deep cut that could be seen through the bone. A large amount of blood spurted out. The intense pain and the instinct to survive made Winkle barely control the complicated emotions that had no reason to collide with his heart and mind, but his reaction was still extremely slow.

The chaotic and conflicting desires still interfered with her judgment. Sometimes she over-interpreted this seemingly self-harming behavior as an impulse to commit suicide, sometimes the smell of blood aroused her bloodshot desire to kill, and sometimes she shrank and howled in pain in her body, longing to escape.

Judging from her performance, she is now just as crazy as the witch on the opposite side.

However, Cortina did not take the opportunity to attack. The witch seemed to have suffered a heavy blow at the same time, holding her head and wailing silently, the strange hair on her body continued to grow, and the withered black hair became thick, gray, and moved without wind.

Even when Winkle regained consciousness, the witch continued to suffer. The hunter used the old method to stop the bleeding, but his face became extremely serious.

If it weren't for the side effects of the other party's seal, she might have cut herself into a skeleton by now.

But this did not mean that Winkle could take advantage of this opportunity to launch an attack. In the past half hour, she had made various attempts, but the closer she got to Cortina, or the closer she got to the sheep-horn short staff, the more powerful and irresistible the ability to trigger a person's emotions became.

She could only maintain this safe distance and throw out the flaming spear and fire crow from a distance to attack. However, even a madman has a sense of self-protection. Those attacks seemed to hit Cortina, but there was only a "snap" sound, leaving only a few pieces of mirror debris on the spot.

"Another mirror stand-in..." Winkle muttered as he quickly moved his position. This was a place that the other party had already arranged. There were countless mirrors reflecting light in the forest. God didn't know which one Cortina would go to.

A good hunter doesn't mind taking a break from the limelight, but it's not a good idea when a life-or-death battle becomes another kind of test of willpower.

"Hey!" In the misty rain, the red-haired hunter walked aimlessly. If you ignore her disheveled clothes and bloodstains, she looked like she was walking in her own backyard. "Is this what you want? To give your so-called revenge to a sealed object and hide behind it like a coward?"

The crackling sound of the rain did not block her hoarse voice. Winkle laughed and fully demonstrated her ability as a "provocateur". She shouted to the surroundings: "Or do you not have the courage to confront me head-on, and are just stalling for time, waiting for your adopted pretty boy to come and save you?"

Then, as she spoke, a figure really slowly walked forward through the dense forest.

He took off his glasses, shook off the water droplets on them, and put them back on his nose. Terran's indifferent gaze fell on the hunter, and he replied in the same indifferent tone: "You guessed right."

Ahaha. Winkle's smile widened helplessly, but his mentality remained relatively stable.

Although it was the hunter's fault for not leading the prey into the trap, there was no time to regret now. Winkle silently recited another hunter's rule and grasped the dagger without fear:

Since there must be a winner, why can't it be myself?Chapter 51: Fierce BattleTitle of the Book:Mystery: From Apprentice to High-Dimensional OverlookerAuthor's name: BambooChapter word count: 5913 wordsUpdate time: 2022-10-14 15:30:01

The moment he realized something was wrong, Terran didn't have time to think. He subconsciously twisted his hips to turn his body around, and only then did he barely avoid the punch that was heading straight for his face at the cost of losing his glasses.

Crunch.

The lens wrapped in a thin metal frame let out a faint whine under the huge external force, and inevitably twisted, shattered, and flew out in pieces.

Losing a pair of camouflage goggles was not a big deal for Terran.

The real trouble was Douglas, who appeared at a moment he least expected and punched him.

This shouldn't be the case...! How could it be possible to come so quickly?

Didn't I dump him a long time ago?

Terran's pupils constricted. The painful wind from the fist immediately made him give up the idea of ​​close combat. He then turned around and rolled to the side several times, trying to create some distance between him and the opponent.

But a burning bullet that pierced his thigh immediately interrupted his next move and train of thought. Tyron groaned, secretly cursing the other party for not playing by the rules. During the surprise attack, he did not choose to shoot once and for all, but instead drew his gun and shot after establishing a close-range advantage...

This inexplicable attack rhythm and Douglas's unexpected appearance immediately broke the situation of the battle. The two women fighting in the distance almost turned their attention to them at the same time.

Ice walls grew rapidly on the wet ground, rushing to block the two men. This also resulted in Douglas only hitting the first shot of the six shots he fired at such a close distance.

Although several fire crows that came from nowhere smashed and burned these lines of defense with their bodies in just a moment, the distance between the two men was still further widened, causing Douglas to lose the advantage of a sneak attack first. The milky white mist formed by the mixture of ice and fire further weakened the vision of both sides.

Click! Douglas threw open the magazine of his revolver, letting six empty shells fall naturally. With his other hand, he skillfully loaded new bullets and briefly cast his eyes towards Cortina who was trying to stop him.

To be honest, if it weren't for this scene where the enemy and friend were clearly distinguished, he would never have believed that the monster that could barely be seen in human form was the "witch" who was once extremely attractive to the opposite sex.

Even a glance at it made his scalp tingle... But he didn't want to think about the reason. After reloading the bullets, Douglas took a step back and quietly activated "Creeping Hunger". His figure became dim and directly merged into the shadow of the night, making the black flame lit by Cortina fall in vain.

three times...

Douglas, wandering in the shadows, estimated the number of times his remaining spiritual power could activate the seal. He bypassed the remains of the ice wall and captured Tyran's figure in the dim light, and found that the direction he was running was the center of the chaos where the witch and the hunter were fighting back and forth.

Just as he was about to give chase, Douglas suddenly saw that Winkle, who was covered in blood but still alive and kicking, had distanced himself from Cortina in just a few breaths, and his face looked particularly grim under the light of the flames.

At the same time, Terran's stumbling steps became faster and faster, and he ran towards Cortina almost defenselessly.

Opportunity or trap?

Before he could figure out what was going on, Douglas suddenly felt his head getting hot, and he suddenly heard his own heartbeat speeding up, as dense and dull as a drum!

The anger and irritability that had been suppressed under his calm thoughts were instantly ignited! Douglas leaped out of the shadows without thinking of the consequences, and caught up with Tyron, who was injured in the leg, in a few steps. He threw him to the ground with a roar like a beast out of the cage, and smashed him down with his fist.

One hit, two hits... He seemed to have forgotten about the loaded gun and the seal in his hand. He just opened his eyes wide, bloodshot with anger, and punched his opponent's head again and again.

Although his breathing became heavier and more difficult, although the veins on his forehead bulged and his brain felt waves of stabbing pain, Douglas did not notice anything unusual and continued to commit atrocities driven by the violent desire that filled his mind.

Terran, who was pinned to the ground by him, was also affected. He fell into some inexplicable emotions, unable to control his body and behavior. He just raised his arms to protect his face out of the instinct for survival.

For a moment, the behavior of the four people present did not show any human reason and dignity. Instead, they were more like wild beasts driven only by instinct.

But soon, the "Sheriff" Tyron, who had a high mental resistance, and the "Conspirator" Winkel, who had summed up the experience in dealing with the situation in previous battles, got rid of the influence first.

The former tried to stop the mad Douglas, while the latter also left behind Cortina's crazy attack, rushed forward, and kicked his ally with quick eyes and hands... or rather, quick eyes and feet.

Douglas groaned as he was hit hard in the ribs. Unable to resist this strange force, he was kicked five or six meters away and rolled several times in the mud.

Such severe pain finally drove the strange and violent emotions out of his mind. Douglas was covered in cold sweat and couldn't help gasping for breath. He couldn't believe that he had just gone crazy as if he was possessed by the devil.

"What's going on..." He opened his mouth dizzily to ask, but saw more than a dozen ice cones burning with strange black and blue flames shooting towards him. He immediately closed his mouth and activated the "Creeping Hunger". His figure blurred and disappeared, and flashed in another direction.

Now there are only two times left... Douglas, who was slightly hunched over and holding his ribs, saw that the monster-like Cortina was madly using all kinds of abilities that belonged to a witch and those that did not belong to a witch, and rushed to Tyrone, who was knocked to the ground by her and could not get up. She used her body, which still had a faint trace of a slender outline, to hold Tyrone in her arms in a protective posture.

The facial features that were originally dignified and beautiful, and now seemed to be torn into pieces, were distorted, as if expressing some kind of angry emotion. Even the gray and thick hair covered with scales on the back of the head began to dance wildly, like a coiled python, swimming endlessly in a dazzling manner.

Winkle, who was also temporarily forced back by Cortina, shouted from the other side: "Her cane! Take that cane!"

Time was running out, and she had no time to explain in detail. Her "conspirator" instinct kept warning her that allowing Cortina to continue using the horn-shaped seal would lead to some terrible consequences.

As he said that, Winkle took the lead and swung a large ball of blazing flames towards Cortina.

Douglas, who didn't even see where the cane was, didn't bother to ask any more questions. He staggered while holding up his gun and shooting continuously, trying to restrain Cortina's actions.

At this time, he was particularly depressed that "Creeping Hunger" did not have any long-range attack capabilities.

However, he still has the ability to assist.

As the soul switched, the surface of the human leather gloves gradually turned black, giving off a noble and evil feeling. Douglas stared at the battle situation, and at the moment when Cortina waved a piece of frost to resist Winkel's flames, he stretched out his left hand wearing "Creeping Hunger" and aimed at Cortina, activating the "Twist" ability of the "Corrupted Baron"!

The witch's brief defensive behavior was immediately "distorted" into a passive defense without active attack, which greatly reduced Winkle's pressure.

Layers of frost and silk threads were like a huge transparent cocoon, wrapping Cortina and Tyran in the center. But such a defense could not last long in the face of the extremely fierce firepower of the hunters.

Tyron, who was hit on the head repeatedly and not conscious, was protected in Cortina's arms and raised his head with difficulty. His scattered eyes gradually became focused, scanning the fragmented face inch by inch.

His breathing stopped for a while, and he raised his hand tremblingly and stroked the witch's face.

The latter lowered his head as if realizing something, and Terran's distraught look was reflected in his cloudy pupils.

"…"

A soft murmur rolled in the monster's throat, as if it wanted to say something, but it no longer had the physiological structure to organize language, and could only spit out vague syllables.

But Terran seemed to understand the mumbling. The muscles on his cheeks twitched, and he tried to force a smile, but failed.

Looking at the flames coming from outside the ice cocoon, and seeing Cortina's body still transforming into an inhuman monster, Terran coughed out the blood clots between his mouth and nose, and patted Cortina's head again, as if comforting a child, and said softly: "Enough, enough..."

Then, he tried his best to support his body and reached out to grab the horn-shaped short staff that was almost stuck in Cortina's flesh.

Only by observing closely can you find that each line on the spiral horn is composed of mysterious symbols that make people feel dizzy just by looking at it. This short staff full of evil and depravity seems to be merging with the user. Cortina's palm holding the short staff has turned into a dark liquid that hides all kinds of emotions and desires.

Tyrone gripped the sheep-horn short staff tightly and pulled it out with force.

A painful scream that seemed to pierce the soul exploded in the forest. Winkle and Douglas's offensive and containment were interrupted in an instant. Both of them fell to the ground twitching, covering their ears and rolling in pain, with blood oozing from their ear holes flowing through their fingers.

The ice cocoon shattered without any warning, and Terran, who was holding a short staff, was thrown out by Cortina, who had lost the last bit of his sanity. He fell heavily to the ground and lost consciousness instantly.

No one noticed that at this moment, the heavy clouds and rain that originally covered the night sky mysteriously dissipated, and a ray of blood-red moonlight quietly passed through the cracks in the rain curtain and enveloped everyone.

Deep in the dense forest, a crow with a circle of white fluff on its right eye saw this, and silently shrank into the thicker shadows, avoiding the blood-red moonlight, and watched from afar.

A second before pulling his head out of the mud and water, Winkle did not realize what he was about to witness.

It was not until Cortina's completely out-of-control, twisted body came into view that the red-haired hunter's almost dysfunctional spiritual intuition made a faint sound.

But it's too late.

The witch's eyes were pitch black, and her hair was standing up one by one. Some of her hair had a slippery and evil outer layer, with black and white eyeballs embedded on the top, or a venomous snake-like head growing out of it, with her mouth slightly open and her tongue spitting out.

The other part appeared as a large area of ​​dark, sticky liquid. Its smooth surface reflected a bloody light. It kept dripping onto the ground, corroding the ground into holes one after another.

The body, which had no human shape at all, became a carnival of blood and flesh, squirming under the broken and cracked skin, as if some monster was about to tear open this skin and come into the world.

The lower half of her body, like part of her hair, was swallowed by the liquid filled with all kinds of violent desires and spread in all directions.

The moment he looked directly at the out-of-control Cortina's partial mythological creature form, Winkle, who was only at Sequence 6, was inevitably pushed to the brink of losing control due to excessive mental shock and the secret knowledge he was forced to receive.

In the extraordinary world, secret knowledge represents both power and pollution!

"Devil", "Apostle of Desire", "Devil"... "Witch of Pain", "Witch of Despair", "Witch of Disaster"...

A lot of knowledge that did not belong to this path suddenly flooded into his mind, leaving no room for rejection. Winkle's expression suddenly stiffened, his eyes dimmed, and his skin, which was stained with blood and mud, had a tendency to melt and crack, and he could even vaguely see the surging flesh and blood flowing under his skin.

She wanted to scream, wanted to escape, but her body was nailed to the spot, and it seemed that the mumbling from the depths of her soul made her brain churn like boiling water.

At this moment, she finally understood the purpose of the sheep-horn staff and the reason why Cortina was obsessed with killing her, even though it was all meaningless.

Winkle tried to close her eyelids that had already dissolved and disappeared, but the blasphemous knowledge still easily shattered her last bit of rationality. It showed her the "abyss" full of corpses, and the true appearance of the "red moon" more than 300,000 kilometers above her head...

Suddenly discovering something from the projection of the silent vacuum with bright stars, Winkle's pupils trembled and dilated. She instinctively curled up her body, hugged her head tightly, and resisted the truth from the starry sky.

"No! No..."

"Here, here is…"

"How could it be…ha, haha…"

The murmurs gradually became unclear, more like intermittent sobs squeezed out from the depths of the throat than words.

The hunter's body began to disintegrate piece by piece. Her eyeballs fell into the mud with a snap, and the next second they burned into gray embers. Her dark red hair, slender and powerful arms, and straight back were all enveloped in the boiling flames from the inside out, dismembering and cannibalizing herself.

Then, a man staggered forward, reached out his hand without hesitation, and picked up her body that was almost swallowed by flames.

The bizarre spirit world flashed by. Douglas used up the last bit of his spiritual energy to start a "journey" to the woods not far from the battlefield. With severe dizziness and headaches, as soon as he stepped out of the spirit world, his legs went weak and he fell to the ground with Winkle in his arms.

The skin that was blistered by the flames was soaked in the wet soil and puddles, and he could actually feel a little bit of cool comfort. Douglas scratched the soil with his fingers, forced himself to support his body, and looked up at Winkle, with a dazed look on his face.

Everything happened so fast that he couldn't understand it at all.

His memory still lingered on the moment when the scream sounded and the ice cocoon shattered. At that moment, he thought he was only one step away from victory.

Then, Douglas thought he had fainted for a second or two, his vision and consciousness were completely dark, and he did not capture any information.

Then, his ally, the time traveler who also came from Earth, the hunter Winkle, literally "burned".

Before seeing this scene with his own eyes, Douglas had never imagined that the blazing flames could flow as gently and windingly as a stream, spreading out in all directions without any regularity.

Although he knew that this was probably a serious case of a Beyonder "losing control", his first impression of the flame was its incomparable beauty, a beauty that could destroy everything.

"Damn it... You, Winkle! Wake up! Look at me!"

Kneeling beside the flame, Douglas stretched out his arms helplessly, trying to distinguish the part of him that still belonged to a human being. The flames licked his intact skin, bringing him intense pain that could melt his brain, but he tried to grab the chaotic flames again and again.

"What on earth is going on... Can you still hear me? Winkle!"

The answer he got was the crackling sound of flames. In the center of the flames, which barely showed a human figure, several streams of flames were dancing and twisting wildly, like a huge mouth opening and closing, saying something to him, but without making any human sound.

But this vision still cheered Douglas up.

There was a reaction, which at least showed that Winkle was still conscious, so there was still a chance...

Is there still a chance?

He took a deep breath and quickly recited in ancient Hermetic language:

"Twisting the hands of time...

"Traveling in the shadow of fate...

"The embodiment of fraud and mischief..."

Then, a young man slowly walked out of the dense forest.

The visitor was wearing a dark classical robe and a pointed hat of the same color.

Black curly hair, black eyes, a broad forehead, a thin face, and a crystal monocle on his right eye.

Amon walked forward leisurely, the back of his long robe dragging on the ground without any trace of dirt.

Glancing at the chaotic scene, his expression was the same as usual, with no other emotions visible except for the raised corners of his mouth.

Such performance made Douglas subconsciously feel reliable and that things must be able to turn around.

Without caring about so-called decency and etiquette, he held the burning flame in his arms and asked with a trembling voice:

"You... you have a way to save her? Please... I can, I will pay the price!"

"Me?" Amon smiled and adjusted his monocle. "It's just out of control. Of course I have a way..."

Looking at Douglas's eyes that suddenly lit up, He paused deliberately and slowly uttered the second half of the sentence:

"But I can't save her."

"..." The hope that had just been ignited and the corners of his mouth that had just been rising suddenly froze. Douglas stared at Amon's dark eyes, his voice so sharp that it was almost questioning, "But, why...?"

"Have you forgotten? I signed a contract with you that cannot be violated."

Amon's smile did not waver at all. He leaned forward slightly and observed his expression with interest.

"And your request is that I can't do anything to the people around you.

"Anything."

When Douglas understood the meaning of those emphasized syllables, his mind suddenly went blank. He seemed to have thought of a lot, but also seemed to have thought of nothing.

And in his arms, in the gradually thinning rain, the red flame flickered smaller and smaller, and after the last wisp of white smoke was blown away by the wind, it was completely extinguished.

A gust of wind suddenly swept across the sky outside the northwest suburbs of Backlund. The large dark clouds that were about to disperse were suddenly whipped together by the wind, blocking the blood-red moonlight that was projected down.

Then, several lightning bolts as thick as silver snakes fell with thunder! They densely landed in a clearing in the forest, hitting the out-of-control Cortina one after another, completely smashing the blasphemous and filthy body into powder.

The Archbishop of the Backlund Diocese of the Church of the Storm was hovering in the air, controlling the violent air currents and looking down. His majestic voice reached the ears of every Punisher on the ground: "Form teams of three and spread out to search the surrounding area! Don't miss any traces!"

The Punishers hit their left chests with their right fists to show their courage and loyalty. They were soon divided into well-trained teams and took care of each other while exploring the surrounding woods.

Seeing that the situation was basically under control, the Archbishop slowly landed on the ground, thought for a moment, and called a team member to instruct: "Take someone to investigate Meige Manor, but be careful and report to me immediately if there is anything wrong."

Meige Manor is too close to the scene of the incident. Although the manor owner and most of the servants believe in the Goddess of Night, the archbishop believes it is necessary to conduct an investigation and eliminate hidden dangers in an emergency.

The servants in Meige Manor were startled by the thunder and were frantically checking whether the manor was damaged. At the same time, most of Backlund City heard the dull rolling thunder and saw the bright silver arcs in the dark rain. This rainstorm was beyond their expectations, and many people were already worrying about tomorrow's commuting before going to bed.

In the North District, at a second-floor window at No. 9 Covent Street, Verity rested his hands on the windowsill, looking at the almost deserted street with a slightly sad expression.

The huge thunder and lightning did not scare her, as she had long been accustomed to spending dark rainy nights alone, not to mention that Mr. and Mrs. Thomas and the maid Emma were all in the living room downstairs. There were very few things that could make this strong girl feel worried and afraid.

She was just waiting, expecting the man who occasionally missed the agreed time but never broke his promise to come back home through the heavy rain.

Just like the thousands of days in the past, I returned safely.Chapter 52 EndingTitle of the Book:Mystery: From Apprentice to High-Dimensional OverlookerAuthor's name: BambooChapter word count: 5685 wordsUpdate time: 2022-10-15 15:30:01

At the foot of the mountains in Sivelas County, in a Quaternary ruins, a large golden-haired dog walked on all fours, easily moving between collapsed stone pillars and bumpy roads, occasionally putting its nose close to the ground to sniff.

Although it is not necessary, following your dog's nature can obviously make your golden retriever happier.

Soon, it found its target, and its fluffy tail was raised high, swaying quickly from side to side.

Audrey, who was standing in deep thought inside a half-collapsed house, noticed its arrival and reached out to take off the heavy hood covering her face, and her light golden hair immediately fell down.

The presence of the radiant girl seemed to have driven away some of the dark atmosphere hidden in the ruins. Audrey half-knelt down, hugged the golden retriever that ran towards her, gently scratched its chin, raised the corner of her mouth, and revealed a bright smile in her emerald eyes: "Good evening, Susie."

The golden retriever first woofed, then vibrated the air and spoke in human language, "Good evening, Audrey."

In fact, they hadn't seen each other for a while.

Ever since an extraordinary event related to the Quaternary Tamara family occurred at the "Loen Antiquities Collection and Protection Foundation" in Eastchester County, Audrey followed the clues and came to the Quaternary ruins in Severus County to begin her exploration.

Susie, who was digesting the "Dream Walker" potion, traveled extensively to Backlund, Eastchester County, Ahowa County and other places, looking for opportunities to perform.

At the same time, it also served as a messenger, occasionally delivering information on behalf of Audrey to the Tarot Club members and some key virtual personalities stationed in Backlund, and reporting the situation in Backlund and other places to Audrey.

Under the moonlight, a man and a dog sat side by side on a fallen stone pillar, discussing what had happened around them recently.

Even though they had met for a while, Susie's tail couldn't help but wag happily. After listening to Audrey's progress on the investigation of the site, she thought for a while and said:

"The matter you asked me to pay attention to earlier had an unexpected result."

"oh?"

After a brief recollection, Audrey remembered that Susie had previously reported that some members of the Andrellad family's "Blood Cult" were secretly operating in Backlund, looking for people with special identities.

Due to the notoriety of the "devil's" path, Audrey instructed Susie to find an opportunity to use some hints and coincidences to get the church and other official forces involved to resolve the hidden dangers. If necessary, she could seek assistance from Hugh who works at MI9.

Susie nodded humanely: "Two weeks ago, the demon's stronghold was cleared by the Earth Mother Church. But a 'joyful witch' from the witch sect once cooperated with the Andrellad family to hunt down a 'conspirator' from the Iron Cross.

"This 'Pleasure Witch' had the protection of a high-ranking witch and an insider from MI9, which prevented me from noticing her abnormality in time.

"Last night, the 'Pleasure Witch' and the 'Conspirator' had a fierce battle in the woods near Meige Manor."

The owner of Meige Manor, Dwayne Dantès, is not currently in Backlund. The official statement is that this gentleman, as a businessman who is familiar with the situation in the southern continent, is assisting the military in carrying out some trade activities.

Audrey knew clearly that the so-called "Dwayne Dantès" was just an identity of Mr. World, or the followers of The Fool, in the human world.

With Mr. World in his deep sleep, Meige Manor and the servants serving there are currently maintaining a self-sufficient state. However, Audrey believes that she has an obligation to help Mr. World manage this industry, and often reminds Susie or herself to stay in Backlund's virtual personality to pay attention to relevant situations.

Susie's status and the advantage of the "audience" approach were enough to handle most accidents. She didn't recite her own name on the spot, which showed that the situation was still under control. Audrey's mind turned quickly, and she didn't feel worried. Instead, she played the role of a listener seriously and waited for Susie to continue.

"Due to various reasons, one Beyonder from the Church of Mother Earth and one from the Church of Storms were dragged into the dispute.

"Ultimately, three MI9 agents died and the 'conspirator' was killed.

"The 'Pleasure Witch' also became overly dependent on the contaminated seal of the Andrellad family and eventually lost control. She was dealt with by the Archbishop of the Storm Church who rushed over. The investigation inside the Meige Manor was also first handled by the Storm Church and then handed over to the Night Church for finalization. Fortunately, the manor and its personnel were not affected by this incident.

"The details of the incident are still under investigation, but due to the existence of the witch's insider, MI9 will probably face pressure from the Church of the Storm and bear most of the losses."

After telling the whole story, the big golden retriever stuck out his tongue and panted. He tilted his head to look at Audrey and asked in a somewhat ashamed tone:

"If I hadn't let my guard down after the demon incident, could I have prevented this extraordinary event?"

Hearing this, Audrey shook her head slightly:

"Whether it's the witch or the Andrellad family, they are all protected by high-ranking beings. You have done a great job."

Gently stroking the big dog's furry head to calm it down, she said softly:

"But next time you encounter such a situation, you will have enough experience! Susie, let's work hard together."

Susie, comforted, immediately perked up and rubbed her head in Audrey's palm.

After all, it's just a dog and is still learning about such complicated things.

"By the way, are there any clues about those special people being hunted by demons?"

"Well, most of them have some strange dreams. The 'conspirator' involved in the incident and the 'navigator' of the Storm Church also have this peculiarity."

As she spoke, Susie shared those strange dream fragments with Audrey.

Audrey focused on observing the tall, reflective buildings that almost touched the sky, the various strange-looking mechanical creations, and the people dressed in fancy clothes with different skin colors.

Suddenly, her eyes focused, and she found the familiar Rosellewen from a fragment of a dream!

-

Hugh Dilcher, a short and sturdy man with rough blond hair, rubbed his temple in annoyance.

"I really didn't expect that Tyron would be the traitor."

She threw the materials in her hand on the table and said awkwardly, "Tyron is the most senior member of the team. Both of his parents worked for MI9 and some even died in the line of duty! As a result, the result is—"

A best-selling novelist, leaning against the large desk, with curly brown hair and a lazy look on his face, flipped through the stack of documents and sighed:

"As a result, in order to avenge his parents, Tyron joined MI9, but his promotion was slow due to his weak background. His younger brother Corti ran away from home due to lack of discipline and later joined the Witch Cult..."

Fors Wall, who had given herself a vacation and returned to Backlund to visit relatives and friends, quickly read through the case and shook her head:

"Maybe this is just fate."

Corti, or rather Cortina, had been searching for the murderer who brutally murdered her parents, Winkel Einhorn, a branch of the royal family from the Feysac Empire. Finally, she had caught the trace of the murderer in Backlund, a place with favorable timing, location and people.

According to MI9 intelligence, the "Pleasure Witch" had a smaller-scale battle with the "Conspirator" as early as the end of last year.

Judging from the results, neither of them was able to defeat the other, and both were injured.

This was the first time Cortina contacted her biological brother after running away from home for more than ten years, and they worked together to plan the extraordinary event of last night, which was more intense and had a wider impact.

"If Tyron hadn't killed his colleagues," Xio's expression darkened when he mentioned this, "I might have tried to reduce his charges, but now... Heh, he has proved himself with his actions, proving that he did something to let his brothers down."

After all, Xio himself has his days of seeking revenge, and he can understand the persistence of the Terran brothers from an emotional point of view.

But the act of shooting a colleague was too outrageous and had exceeded her bottom line.

At the same time, as Terran's direct superior, Xio had to admit that he had failed in his duties.

"Oh, it's my fault... After I approved his field work permit, I didn't ask him to report face to face for two weeks. Otherwise, I should have been able to detect the aura of a witch or a demon in time."

Rubbing his already messy yellow hair, Xio leaned back, his small body sinking into the large and soft seat.

She sighed and whispered to herself: "Colin, Wilson...they are all very good players..."

Seeing her friend blaming herself, Fors suddenly had a tray in her hand, on which were placed steaming black tea, aromatic coffee from the southern continent, and several different kinds of pastries.

She gently placed the tray on the table and handed the snacks to Xio, saying in a comforting tone:

"Well... now that things have come to this, we can only learn from this lesson and be more careful next time. By the way, what did the church say?"

"That's not too difficult."

Xio, who was sipping black tea and chewing raspberry pudding, said vaguely: "The Storm Church received the spoils of war, mainly several sealed objects from both sides, all of which were of the type with relatively large negative effects; as for the Earth Mother Church, they want the potion formulas of the Apprentice and the Master of Magic."

Fors: "?"

As a current member of the Elder Council of the Abraham family, she has been paying close attention to the outflow of her family's potion formula.

Seeing his friend's confusion, Xio further explained:

"The Beyonder who was unlucky enough to be involved in the case of the Church of Mother Earth was a Sequence Nine 'apprentice', a non-staff member who was on probation. It was said that he was seriously injured. Well... Actually, the opponent is the Witch Cult, so it's not surprising that they asked for the potion formula."

As we all know, the Gnosis Society within the Witch Church also masters the initial sequence formula of the "Apprentice" path.

Apart from the Earth Mother Church, which has a shallow foundation in Loen, the major official forces have been cracking down on witch sects for so long that it is not difficult to obtain one or two initial formulas through spiritualism and other means.

"The other party doesn't look like a descendant of Abraham. However, if you don't want the formula to leak out, I can discuss it with the Church of Mother Earth."

While Xio was explaining, Fors took out the crystal ball thoughtfully, brushed his palm across the clear and smooth surface of the meteorite crystal, and stared at the blue starlight swimming in the transparent sphere.

As a qualified demigod of the mystical path, she instinctively used astrology to make her judgment.

"...Well, it's not impossible."

After observing for a while, she put away the crystal ball, pondered with some confusion, and said slowly:

"Xinggui told me that it doesn't matter whether I give him or not right now. But if I give him, I might get his help in the future, very useful help..."

-

As if waking up from a long dream, Douglas opened his eyes and saw the white ceiling of the ward, but his brain was still in a state of shutdown.

His memory and thoughts still lingered on the heavy rain, on the leaping flames, and on Amon's reflective monocle.

Douglas subconsciously raised his hands in front of his eyes and found that his arms were wrapped with bandages from the elbows to the elbows. He could feel the wounds under the bandages were numb and painful, but not unbearable.

There was no more flame to burn him.

A white, slender hand reached out from the side and gently pressed his hand down.

"Don't look at it. It won't leave scars. You have to trust my skills."

Turning around, I saw Antina Sainz, with slightly curly black hair and bloodshot eyes, sitting next to me, with a look of concern on her face.

Douglas opened his mouth, but didn't know what to say for a moment.

As if she could see what he was thinking, Antina stood up to pour water and explained briefly, "The witch and the hunter have been dealt with by the Church of Storms. You and the accidentally involved Mandated Punisher will be compensated by MI9. By the way, the traitor of MI9 is ​​in the next ward. His name is Tyron? The day he can walk is the day he will be sent to the Inquisition."

Half sitting up with the help of Antina, Douglas took a few sips of water from the cup and slowly digested the information he had heard.

Not the best outcome.

But it's not the worst outcome.

He felt unusually calm and did not have any extreme thoughts or actions.

Douglas drank the water in the cup in one gulp, and waited until the dryness in his throat was relieved before asking, "How many days did I sleep?"

"Not very long. It's the morning of the 17th. Well, not even ten o'clock."

Seeing that his mental state was gradually recovering, Antina secretly breathed a sigh of relief, and finally a smile appeared on her face: "But unfortunately, your little friend and Antonia both had classes to attend, and they just left not long ago, so they didn't see you wake up."

Verity? Yes, I said I would go home. I hope I didn't scare her...

Douglas lifted the quilt and took a look. The external injuries were not that serious. They were not as serious as the harm caused by spiritual exhaustion. However, after sleeping for a day and two nights, his spirituality and spirit had already stabilized.

The only discomfort now is that the broken ribs have not healed yet, the dull pain, and a feeling of hunger in the stomach.

After chatting with Antina for a while, the door of the ward on the left was opened and Father Schultz walked in, expressing his concern for him and bringing another good news in a broad sense.

"MI9's compensation to the church includes your medical expenses and the potion formula for your next Sequence, 'Master of Magic'. Once you are fully recovered and discharged from the hospital and complete a mission independently, you can be promoted to a Sequence 8 Beyonder and officially join us."

"The formula of 'Master of Drama'..." Douglas muttered, and suddenly realized a problem.

As early as a week ago, he was promoted to "Master of Magic" with the help of Amon. Did he have to take another potion in the church?

Thinking of Amon, his mood finally fluctuated a little.

But facing Antina and Father Schultz, Douglas could only hide his expression and asked with a forced smile: "Have I accumulated enough merits so quickly?"

"Because you performed very well in this incident." Father Schultz patted the back of his hand with a warm smile. "You did not fall for the witch's bewitching trick, nor did you abandon your duties for the sake of short-term benefits. Instead, you made the right judgment and fought to the last moment... I think this achievement is enough for everyone to recognize you."

"I see..." Douglas, who had actually done too many things without telling the church, responded with mixed feelings, "Then, will the salary also increase?"

"Haha, yes. After becoming a formal member and reaching Sequence Eight, your weekly salary will reach ten pounds. You will be eligible to apply for some of the seals held by the vampires, and your rank in the police station will be upgraded to the inspector level. When participating in dangerous or extra but well-paid missions, you can enjoy dividends and subsidies."

Listening to Father Schultz's smooth description of the good treatment, Douglas was stunned for a moment, feeling bitter, but could only smile and nod:

"That's great! I really hope that day will come soon!"

Antina, who was standing next to him with her arms folded, took the opportunity to complain: "Don't expect it. Just stay in bed for two weeks first."

It's too fast to lie down for two weeks for a broken bone... I wonder how the pharmaceutical factory project that Antina was working on is going...

While their thoughts were wandering, their stomachs made embarrassing noises due to hunger. The three of them were silent for a moment, and then Father Schultz and Antina laughed.

"Sorry, sorry, I forgot that you humans need to eat."

The vampire made a small joke and went to prepare a hospital meal for him. The hospital food was not delicious, but because of hunger and long-standing habit, Douglas still finished all the oatmeal and vegetables.

Father Schultz left quickly, leaving Antina to take care of him. In the afternoon, he actually received more visitors.

First, Francois. With outsiders present, the two of them played their acting skills 100%. Obviously, Francois also knew about Winkle's death and was not in a good mood to chat.

Although it was unknown how he explained the accident to the church, Douglas was somewhat comforted by the fact that Francois was able to move around so freely and apparently was not suspected.

The second wave of guests was an officer from MI9 who came with the rescued agent to express his gratitude.

But to be honest, if he hadn't been sitting on the bed with a lowered field of vision, Douglas suspected that he would probably not be able to see this, uh, slightly petite officer, probably just over 1.5 meters tall.

Although the other party's breathtaking aura is very majestic...

But he is at least 1.79 meters tall... If he doesn't lower his head, he really won't be able to see; and lowering his head to look at the top of someone's head is not very polite...

And after talking with the other party for a few sentences, he found that the officer looked more and more familiar. Finally, he was horrified to find that the original owner had an impression of this person.

But the impression he gave was not as the chief of MI9, but as a famous "arbitrator" in the East District who was good at using physical persuasion techniques - Hugh Dilcher!

Fortunately, the original owner had never dealt with this person before. Douglas dealt with him cautiously for a while, and when he found that Chief Dilcha obviously had no impression of him, he relaxed.

But before the other party left, Douglas hesitated for a moment and still made a request: "Sir, can I meet with Tyron?"

Hugh Dilcha was obviously a little surprised. Her sharp eyes brought a great sense of oppression when they swept over, making Douglas want to lower his head for a moment, wanting to avoid such scrutiny.

"It's not impossible from a procedural point of view. But, can I know why you do this?"

The young man half-leaning on the hospital bed frowned slightly, as if thinking, but in the end he just smiled apologetically:

"There's actually no special reason... I just want to ask him in person why he made such a decision."

This is an unconvincing answer.

But when Xio thought back to Fors's horoscope results, he couldn't help but wonder what was so special about this person.

After all, Fors is already a demigod, and an existence that can help a demigod in the future should not be so unknown.

So, she jumped off the chair and nodded, "I'll be in the room for fifteen minutes and listen. If you can accept it, then... can you get out of bed and walk?"Chapter 53 Hatred and ResponsibilityTitle of the Book:Mystery: From Apprentice to High-Dimensional OverlookerAuthor's name: BambooChapter word count: 6798 wordsUpdate time: 2022-10-16 15:30:01

The ward next door was slightly different from the one Douglas was in.

Its area is slightly smaller, but its shape is more regular and closer to a square.

The bed was located in the middle of the room. There were palm-wide black woven straps and matching buckles on the head, bed and railings on both sides, which seemed to be designed to restrain the patient on the bed.

On the wall opposite the door, you can see an equally square window, with rows of two-finger-thick steel bars welded outside the window.

Obviously, this is a ward with a special purpose, now used to temporarily detain an extraordinary person.

In addition to Terran, who was lying on the hospital bed, wondering what he was thinking, there were two armed surveillance officers standing on the left and right of the room.

Seeing Xio push the door and walk into the room, the two surveillance officers stood at attention and saluted. They did not ask Douglas, who was following behind, what was going on. They just said seriously:

"Report to the commander, everything is normal, please give your instructions."

Hugh Dilcha, a short man with frizzy golden hair, nodded majestically:

"Very good. Go get some rest. I have something to ask you."

The surveillance personnel who received the order saluted again and went out to stand guard outside the room. When Tyron, who had been in a daze with a blank vision, heard this conversation, he had already turned around and examined the visitor from head to toe.

When he saw Douglas, a look of surprise flashed across his face.

At the same time, Douglas also silently watched Tyron. The other party's injuries were more serious, with several bandages wrapped around his head, dark purple marks under his eye sockets, and his arm was also in a plaster cast, with a triangular bandage hanging around his neck.

There was no extra equipment in the room, not even a matching table and chairs. Hugh stood by the window, looked up at Douglas, and signaled that he could start.

So the two people who were fighting to the death not long ago looked at each other for a few seconds, and it was Terran who spoke first.

There seemed to be a hint of a smile on his face:

"Is there anything you don't understand?"

Douglas, who had a lot of questions in his mind, was stunned by Tyron's inexplicable calmness.

To be honest, there are still many things he doesn't understand.

Before being found by the Church of Storm, Douglas had already fallen into a coma due to spiritual exhaustion. He had no idea how subsequent events were handled, and no one told him the details.

In his opinion, the fact that he was so innocent now and didn't even need to explain a word was actually a bit abnormal.

Even with Francois's advance preparations and Tyron's voluntary confession, someone should have asked himself about what happened, used multiple confessions to verify each other, and eliminated the false parts.

However, neither the Storm Church nor the Earth Mother Church had any intention of inquiring further, as if the truth of the incident was not that important, and as if everything was set in stone and could not be refuted.

It seemed like a good thing, but people with secrets were always suspicious. Douglas didn't want to get through this without knowing what was going on and then be locked up and beaten again.

After a brief silence, he looked at Taillon calmly and said, "If you hadn't attacked your companions, the situation would be very different now."

The latter let out a long breath, smiled and shook his head: "Are you going to ask me why I do this?"

Without waiting for Douglas to answer, Tyron lowered his eyes and asked self-deprecatingly, as if talking to himself:

"What do you think is the purpose of life?

"Wealth, status, or more power?

"Or is it family, friends, knowledge or good food… for those things worth looking forward to, the beautiful future that others have described?

"Answer me. You can use this answer to exchange for the truth you care about."

Exchange?... Douglas, who had originally frowned and was not prepared to answer, had to distract himself and think for a moment after hearing the last sentence.

Why did we suddenly get into philosophical topics... What is the purpose of life? Uh, because we don't plan to die for the time being?

After pondering for a moment, Douglas answered honestly: "Maybe it's just like what you said. I have expectations for the future, and I want money and power. And only by living can I realize these expectations."

Tai Lun nodded, without commenting on his answer, and gave his own answer:

"And I, from the moment I learned that my parents died in a foreign land and their souls could not rest in peace, have lived for hatred.

"The same goes for Cortina, he was once my brother."

"..." Douglas couldn't control his expression. His eyebrows twitched and he said in a muffled voice, "I see. I thought you were just bewitched by the witch..."

He knew that the "witch" could change men into women, but he didn't expect that Terran and Cortina were closely related by blood.

If Douglas had known about this relationship in advance, he would never have tried to incite Terran to defect during the communication, but would have deprived the other party of his ability to act as soon as possible.

Perhaps in this way, those unsuspecting MI9 agents would not be silenced.

Douglas' hands hanging on both sides of his body clenched into fists unconsciously, and his expression was a little gloomy.

Noticing his change in mood, Terran, who was lying on the bed, chuckled twice: "It seems that you can understand, the feeling of wanting to save something but being unable to do anything."

No, I can accept failure due to my own incompetence, but I am unwilling, or dare not, to bear the responsibility for the life and death of innocent people... Douglas came to his senses and thought to himself, but he responded by saying, "So, you have rich experience in this area?"

Without paying attention to the obvious sarcasm in his words, Tai Lun said calmly:

"One day in late autumn last year, the seriously injured Cortina found me and told me that he had avenged his parents. From now on, as long as I am willing, he will find an opportunity to leave the Witch Cult. The two of us will leave Backlund and Loen together and go to any corner of the world to live out the rest of our lives as ordinary people.

"This should have been good news. I hid him at home and began to prepare to leave. But not long after, I learned from MI9 that the hunter, Winkel Einhorn, was still alive and active in Backlund.

"I didn't want to tell Corti this news, but he also had his own sources of intelligence… Corti refused to give up.

"After all, he has paid too much for this and has done too many wrong things... According to the laws of the Kingdom of Loen, he should be hanged more than a hundred times.

"And I, as a brother, failed to fulfill my responsibilities and accomplished nothing... I had no reason to stop him."

Douglas opened his mouth, and almost wanted to tell the other party in revenge that the real Winkle Einhorn had indeed been killed, and if you had stopped the loss in time, you might have been able to live the rest of your life in peace and happiness.

Instead of betting everything and losing everything like now.

But in the end, Douglas suppressed this vicious impulse.

Terran had shown him the internal information of MI9. Winkle, the native of this world, was indeed a cruel and vicious sinner with blood on his hands, who had a habit of torturing and killing his prey.

It is no wonder that the Terran brothers remember this blood feud so deeply that they have persisted in their own ways for more than a decade and are still willing to take this gamble.

He didn't want to laugh at the suffering of others, which was not only meaningless but also inhumane.

It is not his job to judge sinners.

Exhaling slowly, Douglas sorted out his thoughts and asked from a different angle: "Even so, your actions were too hasty."

"…That's due to the influence of the seal, or contamination."

When this was mentioned, Terran's expression finally showed some fluctuations, and he replied in a deep voice: "The seal amplified our obsession and our desire for revenge, as if someone was whispering and urging us day and night..."

Xio, who had been leaning against the window and listening quietly, raised his eyes and once again silently reviewed his mistakes in his heart.

The three of them, each with their own thoughts, wandered around the room in silence for a while, until they were finally dispersed by Douglas.

"Why?"

He asked the question without any context, but he was sure that Terran would understand.

If he had confessed that Douglas had served in the Gnosis Society and tried to bypass the church and exchange potion formulas with witches, Douglas believed that his current situation would be very different.

Tyron raised his head, looked at Douglas seriously, and then shrugged deliberately, obviously unfamiliar with this kind of self-deprecating body language:

"Because there is no need.

"If there's one thing I've learned from my own failed life, it's to not dwell on hatred, to not dwell on the past.

"Also, people cannot escape their mistakes.

"Being sober to accept the final judgment is the only decision I can make. I don't care about anything else."

Douglas was speechless for a moment and didn't know what to say.

It was not until Hugh indicated that the time was up, took him back to his ward and said goodbye and left that Douglas raised his hands, covered his face, and let out a deep sigh.

At this moment, Douglas inexplicably felt a sense of powerlessness and confusion after being mocked by fate.

"The problems that we thought we could slowly solve turned out to be more serious than we expected…

"I thought the secret would be exposed, but it was unexpectedly covered up...

"And now, I actually want the church to discover those secrets so that my conscience will not be tortured...

"'People can't escape their own mistakes'..."

"But..."

Douglas squatted down and leaned his back against the cold wall while muttering to himself. He pinched both sides of his nose and let his thoughts wander.

Douglas buried his head between his arms, almost curled up, his back rising and falling regularly with his breathing. The darkness in his vision and the posture of hugging himself made him feel safe and calm, allowing him to accumulate a certain amount of courage and slowly calm down the negative mentality that grew from not being able to control his own destiny.

"Huh..." Slowing down his breathing, Douglas tried his best to get rid of his emotions and look at things objectively.

"Although I have concealed something, I have never had any intention of harming the church, nor have I caused the church to suffer losses due to my actions…

"And my concealment was inevitable. From what I know about the church, even if they won't burn someone claiming to be a 'time traveler' to death on the spot, they will tend to control him and conduct research on him, and they won't help me find a way to return.

"No one is perfect if you judge by their deeds but not their hearts. At least I have no debt to the church now. Of course, I will never owe anything to the church in the future, and I shouldn't!

"And Winkle's death, the deaths of those people... I am responsible, although not entirely responsible.

"I only thought about avoiding conflict, without doing a more thorough investigation beforehand. I also lacked the ability to adapt to changing circumstances. I was easily soft-hearted and hesitant… I still have too little experience in fighting in the extraordinary world.

"This is not a problem that can be solved by Sequence Promotion... Speaking of promotion, Amon..."

Thinking of this, Douglas suddenly raised his head and glanced around subconsciously. After confirming that there was no dark figure in the room, he relaxed a little.

Scratching his hair, he muttered uncertainly, "'Creeping Hunger' doesn't seem to have been taken by the church. I think Amon took it himself. I hope so... He, He is probably not angry?"

With all his thoughts focused on saving Winkle's life at the time, Douglas felt that his attitude towards Amon was not so... endearing.

As for the fact that Amon did not save Winkle, he did not have any extra thoughts.

First, he himself does not have the power to demand that the strong people of the higher sequence satisfy his wishes;

Second, the contractual constraints mentioned by Amon were also proposed and acknowledged by him.

Although Douglas had some irrational thoughts at that overly excited and unclear moment.

But the dead cannot be brought back to life. Now, Douglas only feels regret, a regret that he can do nothing about.

I will recite the honorable name later... Douglas could hear the medical staff and patients' families walking and talking in the corridor outside the ward. Having relieved most of his emotions, he slowly stood up, walked to the window and looked out.

This hospital was of a high grade, located at the junction of the North District and the Cherwood District. The streets were very neat and orderly. In early summer, after a heavy rain, the sky in Backlund rarely showed a clear blue color like water. The sun penetrated the thin clouds, casting light golden beams to illuminate the earth.

Looking at the bustling pedestrians on the street, the increasingly luxuriant branches and leaves of the plants, and this extremely ordinary scenery day after day, Douglas suddenly saw a girl with a schoolbag slung over her shoulder running from the other side of the street, hurriedly crossing the iron gate of the hospital and coming towards the inpatient department.

A few minutes later, the door of the ward was pushed open roughly, and Verity Cotton rushed into the ward breathlessly. She saw Douglas leaning against the window and smiling at her.

His face was a little pale and he looked a little tired, but he was quite relaxed as he leaned against the windowsill; under the moon-white hospital gown rolled up to his elbows, his arms were wrapped in bandages, but there were no other visible injuries.

Douglas clenched his fist against his mouth and coughed lightly. Just as he was about to say something, he saw Verity's originally tense expression collapse instantly. He saw the girl's eyes instantly filled with tears, rushing towards him.

Subconsciously, he stretched out his hands to welcome the girl who rather than pounced on him, she would have bumped into him. Douglas took a deep breath but tried his best to suppress his body from flinching.

He still had two broken ribs, and the tight hug almost made him cry out in pain.

Fortunately, I held it in... Douglas, with cold sweat on his forehead, felt Verity burying his head in his chest, sobbing intermittently. He felt the pair of hands, which were much thinner than his own, trembling, but still tightly grasping the hospital gown, pulling the not-so-thick fabric so hard that it made a faint sound of tearing.

"I can't run..."

Douglas, who had never been good at comforting people, patted Verity's back, lowered his head and muttered, half complaining and half comforting: "You shouldn't cry like this when you were a child..."

"Who said that? I, I..." Verity sniffed shamefully and choked in response, "I cried too, secretly, and you don't even know..."

Douglas: "...Okay, now I know. Cry, I'll be with you."

After saying that, taking advantage of the fact that there was no one else in the room, he quietly used a few tricks to grab the handkerchief that was on the bedside table not far away, and wiped the face of the child who was not so strong at first.

After a long while, Verity finally managed to control her emotions. With a red face, she broke away from Douglas' arms, feeling half ashamed and half angry, and sat down on the edge of the bed.

Then she looked up at Douglas, who seemed to be standing in front of her as if he was being punished, and hurriedly stood up, forcefully pulled him to sit down beside the bed, and asked, "Where is your medical record?"

Douglas was also stunned. He casually opened the bedside drawer, took out the medical record and handed it to the other party, while complaining that I shouldn't ask if I was seriously injured and if I felt okay at this time.

When Verity started to flip through the medical records skillfully, he remembered that his child was studying nursing. Reading the medical records was a basic operation and much more intuitive than listening to him speak orally.

With the help of the ritual magic and extraordinary abilities of the Church of the Mother Earth, the hospital could not treat much, and the injuries shown in the medical records were not serious. Verity breathed a sigh of relief as she read the news. The nervousness she had felt since receiving the news finally faded away, and she felt a sense of relief.

Putting down the small notebook full of the doctor's scribbles, she turned to Douglas and her tone finally softened: "Fortunately... I thought, I thought the work of the church would not be as dangerous as the industry you were engaged in before."

The comfortable and ordinary life made her unconsciously forget the time when Douglas was a bounty hunter, and she once thought that such danger would never happen to her again.

What a coincidence. Actually, I thought so too. I thought that relying on the church would save me a lot of trouble... Douglas couldn't explain the reason in detail, so he smiled and explained, "It was an accident. It was really an accident. When I was patrolling the underground market, I ran into other departments arresting suspects. The situation was urgent at the time and there was no time to think about it... Well, it looks like a disaster, but it's actually luck, because I made a contribution this time, I got promoted, and my weekly salary and benefits will increase."

Verity was not moved by the latter part of the sentence, and said seriously: "Rather than promotion, I hope you will put your own safety first in the future. I mean, well, on the premise of fulfilling your obligations. After all, life now does not require you to work hard. I, I will graduate next year and find a job..."

Huh? That's pretty fast... Verity didn't receive a university education, but rather a college education. If you complete the required credits and find an internship, you can graduate. There are no messy papers or reports to be done...

Douglas, who suddenly realized that his understanding of the education system and policies of this world was not perfect, rolled his eyes and asked tentatively: "Actually, have you ever considered applying to university to continue studying medicine or something like that?"

"Hmm?" Verity was obviously a little surprised. She slightly widened her eyes and answered subconsciously, "But my ambition is not to enter a large hospital or a private clinic, but to work in a charity supported by the Church of Evernight. The level of a nurse is already good enough..."

Working as a doctor in a large hospital or private clinic can bring good results in wealth and status over time. However, in this era when surgical operations often involve the use of hammers and saws to pry open people's skulls, the number of female doctors is relatively small and the requirements are relatively high. Due to her own experience, Verity is more inclined to charities that can help the lower classes.

"I understand." Douglas also knew what she was thinking, but he did not give up trying to persuade her. "It doesn't have to be a doctor. Maybe a pharmacist or something. Of course, there is no high or low profession. But compared to a nurse, I think a profession that can use the knowledge I have mastered to find problems and save more lives may be more in line with your expectations."

Under current laws, nurses are relatively passive and can only follow doctors' orders. Doctors and pharmacists have the authority to make independent judgments and use medicines after obtaining their licenses.

The idea of ​​"saving more lives" obviously hit Verity's soft spot. Douglas observed her expression and felt that she was not resisting much, so he continued immediately: "I remember that the teachings of the Goddess of Night encourage women to acquire more knowledge and take on higher social positions. And you also know that our living conditions are good now, so it is not a problem for you to continue your studies."

He made this suggestion because, on the one hand, he sincerely felt that she should go to college if possible, so that Verity could master some knowledge and skills. In case he died in the line of duty or something happened to her, she would be able to maintain her current standard of living and would not fall back into the chaotic and gloomy East End.

On the other hand, considering that charities often participate in social events, charities supported by the Church of Night are more likely to be responsible for the aftermath of certain extraordinary accidents, such as the rescue after the great smog that year... Douglas suddenly became a little worried about the fickleness of fate. As a nurse, Verity would be more likely to be the first to encounter danger.

It is still safer to stay in the rear!

"But don't rush to make a decision. Applying to college is next year anyway, so you can think about it." Seeing Verity biting her lips in thought out of habit, Douglas happily moved his body and half leaned back on the pillow. "No matter which path you choose, I will support you."

Verity nodded thoughtfully. To be honest, she always thought that it was a miracle that she could go to school, and she never thought that she would be able to go to college one day.

I heard that everyone in the university is very smart... Uh, I don't know which university in Backlund has a medical department, and my grades aren't that outstanding...

After thinking quietly for a long time, she suddenly turned her head and saw Douglas fiddling with the handkerchief he had used to wipe her tears. He folded it repeatedly and then lifted up the two corners, making the overall outline look like a rabbit with its ears erect.

Looking at the simple rabbit, Verity couldn't help but ask: "What are you doing?"

"Shh." Douglas, leaning against the bed with pale eyes, pretended to be mysterious and put his finger to his lips, "I'll show you a trick."

As he spoke, he shook out the handkerchief and roughly stuffed it into his clenched left fist, leaving only a corner exposed at the base of his palm. Then he pinched the corner with his right hand and quickly pulled it out.

Bang!

After the crisp sound of the cloth shaking, what was pulled out was not a handkerchief, but a brand new, dark green one-pound note!

"..." Looking at the banknote, Verity opened his mouth, his eyes shifting back and forth between the portrait of the former king and Douglas' face.

The latter smiled smugly and stuffed the banknotes into Verity's hands, saying, "I saw you came running here. Remember to take the public carriage when you go back."

Subconsciously holding the banknote up to the light to check its authenticity, Verity couldn't help but ask out of curiosity, "Then... where's the handkerchief?"

Douglas blinked and reached out his hand, as if to point it out to her: "Isn't it right here?"

Verity felt the back of his hand brushing against her earlobe and shrank her neck in itch. Then she saw the handkerchief being pulled out from somewhere and dangling in front of her eyes.

Raising his hand and touching the back of his smooth neck, Verity, not knowing what to say, took the handkerchief and examined it suspiciously, but could not see anything special.

Douglas, who had shown off his skills, raised his chin slightly, happily waiting for the applause from the only audience for this trick. As a result, Verity was silent for a few seconds, and looked at him with more doubts: "You didn't know how to do this before... Did the church still teach you magic?"

"…"

Douglas's smile froze a little, and he let out a long "hmm", his eyes gradually moving upwards: "How could that be? I figured it out in my spare time, and it's just right for entertaining children."

Understanding the hidden meaning of his words, Verity puffed out her chest half-complainingly and half-seriously: "I'm not a child anymore."

"You are still a child if you are still in school."

"no!"

"that is."

"…"