Chapter 67: Each Person’s Growth

Chapter 67: Each Person’s Growth

The former 36 Zouteland Street had its ground floor finished in stucco. On each floor above, two windows were enclosed together by a sealed arch, giving the building the characteristics of architecture from around the year 1300 of the Fifth Epoch. Its lighting had not been especially good.

After reconstruction, however, the ground floor now possessed the shelter of a small porch. On both sides were two-story-high projecting bay windows. The details of their frames included pier-like wall sections and decorative capitals, supporting slender stone beams. Above the tall bay windows was a parapet, carrying the third floor.

This was a three-story architectural style that had become popular only in the last few years.

For a moment, Leonard had the feeling that he had come to the wrong place.

Only after standing stunned for more than ten seconds did he grip the cane inlaid with silver-white metal and step into 36 Zouteland Street. Then he climbed the stairs, rounded the corner, and saw a black door and a vertical sign:

“Blackthorn Security Company.”

Once he reached this place, things seemed to become familiar again. He quickened his steps and pushed open the half-closed door.

The brown-haired girl who had raised the Tingen Honest Man in front of herself, blocking her face, heard footsteps that made no attempt at concealment. She moved the newspaper aside, revealing a smooth forehead, light-brown eyes, and a pretty face.

“…Good afternoon, Rozanne.” Leonard greeted her with a slight hesitation.

Rozanne first revealed a look of delighted surprise. Immediately afterward, her face darkened, and she said in an exceptionally cold voice,

“Good afternoon.

“Congratulations on avenging the captain, Klein, and the others.”

Leonard opened his mouth, not knowing how to respond. Even the action of raising a hand to press down on his top hat could not be carried out, because he disliked wearing hats.

He squeezed out a small smile and nodded slightly. Then, silently, he stepped forward, passed Rozanne, and prepared to enter the door that separated the outer and inner areas.

Just as he was about to enter the office area, he suddenly heard Rozanne behind him say in an extremely soft voice,

“Live well…”

Leonard’s steps slowed slightly, and he nodded heavily.

Arriving at the inner area, he immediately saw Frye standing by the captain’s office door.

This Corpse Collector was still as pale as someone who had not seen the sun for a long time. He had black hair, blue eyes, a high nose bridge, and very thin lips. His temperament was cold, gloomy, and dim.

Leonard seriously looked him over for a few seconds, breathed out, and did his best to smile in a carefree manner.

“Long time no see.”

“Good afternoon. Long time no see.” Frye pointed at the captain’s office. “I have already received the telegram and learned of your request. I will have two team members follow you for the operation. Also, you need to fill out an application form for the Sealed Artifact.”

Leonard laughed with some surprise.

“You’re the captain now? You don’t seem as quiet as before…”

In truth, Leonard had already digested the Requiemer potion and could advance to Sequence 5, Spirit Warlock. But in order to steal the power of that drop of Eternal Blazing Sun’s blood, he had deliberately avoided reporting it. He continued soothing spirits around the Backlund region and, through his own efforts, finally found a chance to come to Tingen.

“Yes.” Frye nodded lightly. “Actually, I do not like speaking this much. But as captain, I have no choice.”

Leonard nodded slightly.

“When did you become captain? How come I didn’t hear anything about it…”

“Recently,” Frye first answered concisely, then explained, “Not long after you left, I became a Sequence 8 Gravedigger. Last month, I finally advanced to Spirit Medium. And the previous captain happened to be transferred away.”

“So quickly…” Leonard had not finished speaking before he clenched his fist and lightly struck his own head. “Look at my memory. I forgot that Klein had shared some experience with everyone.”

He lowered his right hand and smiled at Frye.

“In that case, you still have time and space for further improvement. Perhaps you may even become a deacon in the future.”

Frye glanced at him, then withdrew his gaze.

“I probably will not continue seeking advancement.”

“Why?” Leonard took a few steps and came beside Frye, asking in slight surprise.

Frye raised his head and looked toward the ceiling. His voice was calm and low.

“I want to stay here.

“To keep protecting this place.”

Leonard fell silent all at once and did not respond.

He looked around and felt that this place had undergone considerable remodeling, yet deep within it were still things that had not changed.

Frye also remained silent for a while before saying,

“I will assign two team members to accompany you.”

As he spoke, he walked toward the end of the corridor, and Leonard subconsciously followed beside him.

Inside the office at the very end, the door stood open. Several Nighthawks were playing cards there—Fighting Evil.

Sensing the captain’s approach, they all put down their cards and stood.

Leonard swept his gaze over them and saw two familiar faces: Royale, with smooth black hair and slender brows, and Siga, with white hair and black eyes.

At the same time, he also saw several unfamiliar faces, and he saw the pennies, soli, and playing cards on the table.

In that instant, he became somewhat dazed, and his vision blurred.

…

In the waters of the Rorsted Archipelago, inside a small harbor attached to a fishing village, in the bottom cabin of the Future.

Frank Lee had rolled up his sleeves and folded his arms, seriously examining the mushroom before him.

Including its cap, the mushroom was a full one point eight meters tall. Its white surface had several vivid red spots that resembled eyes, a nose, and a mouth.

Apart from these, spores bulged one after another along its trunk, and thick, powerful white mycelia grew out from it like tentacles.

Frank looked this giant mushroom up and down several times. Then he looked around at the various kinds of mushrooms growing all over the wooden walls and floor—some long, some short, some large, some small—and said to the Craftsman Sharf beside him,

“Not bad. This experiment has made progress again. This mushroom has a strong tendency toward self-reproduction, and that will make it hungry, urgently needing monsters’ flesh and blood as replenishment.

“And whether roasted or boiled, its activity can be eliminated so that it is no longer so dangerous.

“Uh, how does it taste? Didn’t you try it just now? Its descendants will randomly develop beef flavor, fish flavor, wheat flavor, and some are even filled with milk. One stalk can satisfy the needs of a single breakfast. Look, the crew members don’t even love drinking anymore. Everywhere is full of mushrooms they can harvest… I am thinking that sometimes, when one goes into the wilderness, in order to fill one’s stomach, one needs to carry dry rations or hunt wild beasts. That is far too troublesome. If mushrooms could grow on one’s body, wouldn’t things become much easier?”

Compared to when he had been in Bayam, Craftsman Sharf had become much thinner. His eye sockets had sunk in, and his gaze was vacant and lifeless, lacking any sense of agility.

Hearing Frank’s words, he seemed to recall something. His body trembled slightly. He silently crouched down, opened his mouth, and began retching.

“Are you all right? I know you have worked hard. I truly have to thank you during this period,” Frank sincerely said to the Craftsman. “Without you, this mushroom would not have such a strong tendency toward self-reproduction. Also, under moonlight, its vitality becomes exceptionally tenacious, and it can purify itself. This can effectively remove the toxins accumulated from devouring monsters. At present, the only problem is that pure darkness has no moonlight. This is the issue we need to resolve next.”

Sharf said nothing. After vomiting, he abruptly stood, turned, and tried to rush outside. But one thick, powerful white mycelium after another extended over, wrapping around him and pulling him back.

“Return—return my mystical items to me! I want to die together with these mushrooms!” he shouted madly. His voice grew lower and lower, as though his mouth had been blocked.

At that moment, somewhere outside the fishing village, one blue-green vine after another rapidly withdrew, as if growing in reverse.

Star Admiral Cattleya walked out from within them. Her eyes were deep purple tinged with silver-white.

By her ears, the illusory ravings originating from the Hidden Sage still echoed. Yet she no longer found them terrifying, no longer completely unable to endure them as she had in the past. Within her field of vision, countless indescribably shaped figures swam about. Layer upon layer of thick curtains, like shadows, hung there. Invisible gazes were projected from unknown places.

Compared with before, she could now vaguely see the unknown existences hidden behind the curtains. She could now witness one moon after another high above, each in different colors. Some were blood red, some silver-white, some dark brown, and some deep blue. They were like eyes gazing down upon the earth.

Cattleya’s mind buzzed. She hurriedly withdrew her gaze and no longer dared to look.

She had already relied on analyzing the blood of the Snake of Fate to complete the ritual, obtain divinity, and become Sequence 4 of the Mystery Pryer pathway—a Mysticologist!

However, she remembered that the Queen had once warned her:

Among all Sequence 4s of the twenty-two pathways, Mysticologist was the “profession” most likely to encounter danger, because they often saw things they should not see, heard sounds they should not hear, and touched secrets they should not touch.

Therefore, if a Mysticologist wished to live long, they had to understand how to restrain their curiosity and control their corresponding behavior.

Removing the heavy glasses clipped to her clothes, Cattleya placed them on the bridge of her nose. Yet the various things she saw that did not belong to the real world did not vanish.

She curled the corner of her mouth, half mocking herself and half satisfied, understanding that this item could no longer seal her eyes of mystery prying.

She closed her eyes briefly, then opened them again. Her eyes had already turned pitch-black, no longer carrying mysterious deep purple and silver-white.

Whew… Cattleya breathed out and slowly walked toward the Future, as though she had merely gone ashore for a stroll.

She did not intend to spread news that she had become a demigod. She did not intend to quickly become the fifth king of the sea. To her, this was one of her trump cards in a dangerous world and would not be thrown out lightly.

…

Backlund Bridge area, Rose Street.

The carriage Emlyn rode had only just entered this street when he saw a blurry figure appear on the seat opposite him. The figure had slightly messy hair, a white shirt, and a black waistcoat. It was a young man resembling a wraith or ghost.

“Long time no see, Mr. Maric.” Emlyn smiled without the slightest panic.

Maric nodded with very slight movement.

“I came to tell you that we are ready and can discuss the specific action plan.”