He didn’t know why, but the moment the dice prompted that an attribute had increased, Siles couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh.
The increase in Spirituality was within Siles’s expectations. But Knowledge… it went up by five points. This was an unprecedented situation. It was truly unbelievable.
Siles took off his glasses, got up, and went to the washroom, looking at himself in the mirror. After a moment, he said, “Perform a Willpower check on Siles Noel.”
【Keeper, Siles Noel (University Professor) is performing a Willpower check.】
【Willpower: 93/……】
The options displayed before Siles were still very few, but he spotted a suitable number and selected it.
【Willpower: 93/90, Success.】
【You’ve discovered the secret of the world, haven’t you? Believe in your own Willpower; you could have completely avoided this check—after all, this secret wasn’t revealed to you in plain sight. Of course, caution is an excellent quality.】
The dice’s remark sounded like it was mocking him again, but this time, Siles felt a slight sense of relief.
He walked over to his desk, folded the transcript, and locked it in a drawer; only then did he truly relax. He couldn’t help but pinch the bridge of his nose, thinking: A child, a lamb, a drawing board, a fisherman, dried fish, stars.
The child eats the lamb. The fisherman eats the dried fish. The child and the fisherman made a trade.
…Right, and the soil. The soil also ate the lamb.
What exactly do the lamb and the dried fish symbolize?
This clearly wasn’t a fairy tale or a bedtime story written for children. Siles knew this.
…Gods? Do these all symbolize gods? Or do some of them represent gods while others do not?
Someone outside is eating the lamb? The child draws a new lamb?
Countless doubts arose in Siles’s mind. He also thought of another question: these images likely referred to the Old Gods, and the fact that Bart suffered frequent contamination during the transcription process verified this.
But if such contamination truly involved the Old Gods, and so many of them, could Bart have really succeeded in ridding himself of the contamination using that crude self-reproduction ritual? Or perhaps, texts involving the Old Gods written in this “metaphorical” form, while carrying massive amounts of information, did not carry such severe contamination?
Siles was completely baffled and unable to prove his own theories. Finally, he shook his head, firmly forbidding himself from thinking too much about it—thinking wouldn’t help anyway. He had many things to do tomorrow. Stop thinking.
He went to wash up, lay on his bed, and quickly fell into a deep sleep. In his dreams, he seemed to vaguely dream of something involving stars, soil, and seawater, but the next morning, when he woke up, he had forgotten everything.
As he was leaving, for reasons unknown, he brought all the Time Traces he had on hand, along with a bottle of 10% purity potion—Caution, he thought. Even if the dice mocked his caution, he still maintained this habit.
At seven o’clock sharp, Siles ate breakfast in the cafeteria, mailed a letter to the merchant Lanmere at an off-campus carriage house, and then headed to the West District.
He went first to the abandoned hut near the Ernestine Tavern, where he had met Jimmy before. Jimmy noticed Siles and looked pleasantly surprised, taking the initiative to greet him: “Good morning, sir.”
“Good morning,” Siles said simply. “I’m looking for you this time because there is something I need you to do.”
The other boys looked over. Thanks to Siles’s financial support, their mental and physical states looked much better.
Siles added, “You can also have your other companions, like the girls, join this work. Because this matter might require your help in the future.”
Jimmy looked surprised. “Sir, what is it?”
“I intend to open a shop in the West District. I need your help to think about what can be sold here,” Siles said. “And as for the future management of this shop, I would like to entrust it to you.”
Jimmy’s eyes widened, and gasps of surprise erupted from the boys around him. Jimmy stuttered in disbelief: “Wh-what… sir, you mean…”
Siles smiled slightly. “I can hire you long-term, so you can have a stable job.”
Jimmy looked as if he were living in a beautiful dream; besides being overjoyed, he felt it was somewhat unreal.
Siles said, “Opening the shop will probably have to wait until next year. However, everything can be prepared slowly starting this year. I hope you can recommend a suitable choice for me after the winter break. How about it?”
“No problem!” Jimmy shouted.
Siles chuckled. “I look forward to the answer you give me. By then, just contact me through Anthony.”
Jimmy nodded immediately. He suddenly remembered something and said to Siles: “By the way, sir, have you heard about the Greyson Company? I don’t know if you need this news…”
Siles froze. “What?”
Jimmy said, “Their store is having a sale in two days to celebrate the birth of Antinam. I heard the discounts are crazy. It seems they will also be giving out free food in the East District… many people are tempted…”
As he spoke, he couldn’t help but lick his lips.
Siles frowned slightly, wanting to say something, but considering the terrible living conditions of these children… in the end, he could only say: “Try not to eat Greyson’s things.”
Jimmy snapped back to reality. He said quickly: “We will. Recently, we’ve been taking the money to buy food in the East District.”
Siles nodded.
Afterward, Siles bid them farewell, left, found a rented carriage nearby, and headed to the train station in the western suburbs.
The huge glass ceiling made the train station look out of place near the West District. For many years, as people developed the East District of Lamifa, there had been growing calls for the Grand Duke to move the train station to the East District, or at least closer to it. The noble lords didn’t like setting foot in the “Old City.”
However, due to various reasons, the train station was never moved. Previously, Siles had heard from Angela that the Grand Duke’s Withered Wasteland development plan was not just external, but also internal. A complete business plan obviously required supporting facilities to keep up. Therefore, after the winter break, there would likely be some modification schemes appearing within Lamifa City.
In Siles’s guess, that was likely… a subway.
Train railways were a convenient thing, allowing people to reach distant foreign lands in a short time. For the people of the Fisher World, they might not be able to imagine the speed of the Earth’s high-speed rail era, but the trains of this time already fulfilled many of their fantasies. Therefore, naturally, people also hoped that the transportation around them could become more convenient.
Energy popularization in this world wasn’t that fast, and the development of commercial trade wasn’t that aggressive; the whole process was slow, approaching stagnation. This was why the air in Lamifa City wasn’t as polluted as in the similar era on Earth.
Siles didn’t know what the problem was with this world. This world had coal resources, and likely oil resources too. However, what truly reached Siles’s ears was the inexplicable “Star Dust.”
What kind of energy is this? Siles was very curious about it. However, apart from the fact that the Finn family had a vehicle powered by Star Dust, he hadn’t seen other applications of Star Dust, as if this stuff could only be used to make potions.
Perhaps the situation is different in other countries?
Siles thought so, but couldn’t reach an answer. Perhaps when he reached the Withered Land, he would know more.
He walked into the ticket office of the West Suburban Train Station. It was a low building standing to the side of the main structure. As soon as he walked in, the murky air and dull atmosphere made Siles frown. He walked to the back of one of the lines. After about ten minutes, it was finally his turn. Behind the iron railing, the ticket seller was a young woman.
She said, “Sir, good morning. What ticket do you need to buy?”
“A one-way ticket to Maltz on October 21st,” Siles said concisely. He wasn’t sure when he would return to Lamifa City, so he only bought a one-way ticket.
The woman flipped through a thick, handwritten booklet. After a moment, she said, “Okay. We can provide sleeper cars, first and second-class seat cars, and third-class standing cars. Which one would you like?”
Siles asked, “How long does it take to get to Maltz?”
“A day and a night, sir.”
Siles then said, “Then one sleeper ticket.”
“Sleepers have regular and luxury carriages. Regular carriages have six people to a room, and luxury carriages have two people to a room. Which one do you want?”
Siles said without hesitation: “Luxury carriage.”
“Okay, sir,” the ticket seller said cheerfully. “Your train departure time is October 21st at 12:30 PM, and arrival time is October 22nd at 2:00 PM. If you want to refund the ticket, you need to come to the counter one day before the departure time. The price of this ticket is 5 Duke coins.”
Siles handed over 5 Duke coins.
“Okay. May I have your name?”
“Siles Noel.”
“Okay, sir. Hope you have a pleasant trip.” Saying this, the ticket seller handed him a business card-sized ticket. Siles’s name was written on it.
When buying tickets at the train stations of the Duchy of Konst, passengers were required to provide their names. Of course, fake names also worked; after all, there was no real-name system in the strict sense in this world.
Siles took the ticket, politely thanked the ticket seller, and left. Buying the ticket was something he had thought about early on. Although there was a possibility he would be traveling with others, he couldn’t put off the ticket matter; after all, tickets in this era weren’t as convenient as in the Earth’s internet era. Therefore, Siles preferred to buy it early.
He left the train station ticket office and found a rented carriage nearby. He negotiated the price with the driver, asking him to first go to 13 Milford Street, then wait for Siles to move the books from upstairs down, and then take Siles to 6 Hayward Street. This was a big business, enough to earn at least three or four Duke coins, so the driver agreed immediately.
Over an hour later, Siles successfully returned to 6 Hayward Street with the books Alfonso and Immanuel had left him. The driver enthusiastically helped him move the books to the third floor before leaving. Siles had to spend some time organizing and tidying up in the study. His books, materials, manuscripts, and notes were piling up more and more, making him suspect that this small study might not be able to hold any more.
…Perhaps he could consider buying a house in Lamifa City? Wonder what the housing prices are like here. Siles thought.
After the morning’s running around, the time had reached nearly eleven o’clock. Siles sat in the room for a moment, confirmed there was nothing left behind, and then went out again. He ate lunch in the cafeteria and then walked along Hayward Street, soon arriving at Beane Bookstore, where the novelists gathered.
As soon as he pushed the door open, he heard the lively noise inside.
Mystery novelist Maynard Davis saw Siles and said loudly, “Ah, Professor Noel, you’ve come at the right time! We were just saying we should accompany the detective to investigate!”
Siles couldn’t help but freeze, his eyes looking at a stranger in the room. Inside his brain, the dice rolled softly. At this moment in the room, besides the two mystery novelists Maynard Davis and Antonia Carmin, there was a young man with bright eyes and a handsome face holding a sheet of letter paper.
He noticed Siles’s gaze, so he introduced himself in a leisurely manner as Jon Mansfield, a detective.
…Detective Jon. Siles thought. Another character card appears.
He didn’t expect to run into Jon here, and couldn’t help but feel surprised. Maynard explained everything very enthusiastically. This morning, Maynard went to the Detective Club and happened to run into Jon. Jon was troubled by a case at hand, so he chatted with Maynard. Afterward, Maynard, with his inherent impulsiveness and frankness, thought that maybe someone at the Novelist Club might have clues, so he brought Jon to Beane Bookstore.
But shortly after they left, a special messenger arrived at the Detective Club, and the content of the letter was related to the case Jon was investigating. Because this messenger was hired by a specific person, after not finding anyone at the Detective Club, he inquired all the way and finally delivered the letter to Beane Bookstore. This was exactly the letter Detective Jon was holding in his hand.
The content of the letter was that the employer had a change of heart and was willing to let Jon come over to investigate, and it also strangely wrote that they welcomed Jon to bring more companions to understand and study the mystery and the murder case together.
This statement made both Jon and Ms. Carmin frown, but Maynard was full of interest and immediately wanted to follow Jon. He even invited Ms. Carmin. Since Siles happened to arrive at this moment, he was naturally invited by Maynard as well.
Only then did Siles understand what had happened from beginning to end, and couldn’t help but look at Detective Jon.
Detective Jon was a man in his twenties who looked very young. But there was an indescribable, steady, and seasoned temperament about him; when his eyes looked at others, they always brought a strange sense of oppression, as if he had seen through them. Siles’s impression of this character card was that Detective Jon had high Willpower and Investigation attributes, and in addition, his Psychology skill was the highest among all character cards, reaching 86, a full 16 points higher than Commander Bunyan.
…This is quite in line with the image of a detective.
Now, Jon smiled slightly and said, “Professor Noel? Of course, would you be willing to accompany us?”
Siles felt a stir in his heart and asked, “Forgive my presumption… is the place you are about to go to Marquess Austin’s estate?”
Jon looked at him in surprise, not knowing how Siles knew. However, he didn’t notice Maynard’s shocked expression next to him, thinking Maynard had told Siles, so he said, “Yes, that is correct.”
Siles frowned slightly and asked again: “Is this letter also written to you by Marquess Austin?”
Jon said, “The signature indeed is.”
Siles’s brows furrowed even tighter. After a moment, he said, “Miss Austin is my student, so I know something about this. If you don’t mind, can we talk on the way?”
Maynard said excitedly immediately, “So you know about this too! Let’s go quickly!”
Jon deliberated on his tone and said, “Maynard, I think you can stay here and wait for our news. After all, this matter seems a bit tricky, and it might be dangerous.”
Maynard was hit by this, looked at Siles, and noticed Siles’s equally disapproving expression, so he sat down dejectedly. Ms. Carmin smiled from the side: “Alright, Maynard, we are just mystery novelists, not real detectives.” She nodded to Jon. “I look forward to your good news.”
Thus, it was Siles, who had just arrived, who accompanied Detective Jon to take a carriage—the messenger’s carriage—to Marquess Austin’s manor in the northern suburbs. The messenger was the carriage driver, a silent middle-aged man who wasn’t surprised by Siles’s appearance; he simply reached out and lifted the heavy curtain, letting Siles and Jon into the carriage. Afterward, he said in a low voice: “The journey takes about an hour. Please wait patiently, both of you.”
The carriage set off quickly. Amidst the slight jolts, Siles looked at Jon and asked, “Don’t you think it’s a bit strange?”
Before this, Marquess Austin’s attitude had always been to resist anyone investigating; why was he welcoming them now? And he even hoped Jon would bring companions? In just one day, Marquess Austin’s attitude had undergone a complete turnaround.
Jon’s voice was low. “Yes… I think it’s very suspicious.” He looked at Siles and said, “You might not know, but I’ve tried to come and investigate several times before, but was turned away. That Marquess’s attitude… was truly rude.” His tone carried a bit of indignation, which looked more in line with his current youthful appearance.
Siles tilted his head to look at him, and then said, “Indeed. That portrait makes his state very abnormal.”
Jon wasn’t surprised that Siles actually knew about the portrait. He nodded in agreement and then said, “I think that portrait is likely…” he tentatively said, “an out-of-control…”
“Time Trace.” Siles’s voice was low.
Jon let out a sigh of relief and said, “Since you know, that’s great. This matter is truly annoying; I didn’t expect that even after I quit the Historical Society and became a detective, I still couldn’t escape these things.”
Siles asked slightly surprised: “Were you also a member of the Historical Society?” This was something else he didn’t know, a reality outside of these character cards’ attributes and script settings. Now Siles was very used to these things happening. It seemed everyone in this world had secrets.
Jon nodded and said, “When… I was a little younger.” He described it this way: “I joined the Second Corridor at the time. But I left not long after.” He smiled. “Because I wasn’t used to many… rule constraints within the Historical Society. That annoyed me. So in the end, I quit the Historical Society.”
Siles nodded: “So a Revelator can choose to quit the Historical Society.”
“Of course,” Jon said. “Otherwise, where do you think those people who only know a little about the Revelators come from? The Historical Society’s rule is not to tell ordinary people about the Revelators, but if you quit the Historical Society, there’s no such constraint.”
Siles said thoughtfully: “That’s only a constraint for members of the Historical Society.”
“Of course.” Jon looked like he really disliked this rule.
Afterward, their topic turned back to Marquess Austin’s matter.
“I’ve had this commission for nearly a month. The only progress is that I’ve seen the two corpses—two servants, as you probably know.” Jon said, “There are… traces of knives cutting flesh on their bodies.”
“Chunks of meat are missing?”
“Yes.” Jon gestured to his own stomach and legs. “Probably these two parts. Both lost that much… at least one or two pounds of meat.”
Siles squinted and then asked: “Do you think…”
“Could it be that Marquess Austin killed someone and then ate their flesh?” Jon said with unusual bluntness. “I don’t know. Regardless, this matter cannot be proven, or perhaps he just used the human flesh to feed animals?”
Siles frowned slightly.
“…Forgive me, I’m being too blunt.” Jon said immediately. “This case has piqued my curiosity.”
“I can understand,” Siles said. “However, I’m afraid it hides many dangers.”
“Indeed.” Jon sighed in a low voice. “Truly eerie. Dead servants, a mad Marquess, fearful Marchioness and Miss, portraits of unknown origin, a merchant with malicious intent… amazing mystery novel elements, aren’t they?”
Siles said: “It’s more like a horror novel.”
Jon laughed and couldn’t help but say: “You are truly a humorous person.”
Siles thought, This seems to be the first time someone has evaluated him like this. He suddenly thought that Detective Jon’s Psychology skill was truly worthy of such a high value.
An hour later, they arrived at Marquess Austin’s mansion in the northern suburbs. Surprisingly, several carriages were parked at the entrance of the mansion. Marquess Austin’s estate was also located in the northern suburbs, but compared to Professor Culverly’s residence where Siles had been, it was more luxurious, grand, and appeared very… expensive. The gold-plated eaves looked like withered sunflowers under the gloomy sky.
They were guided by servants into the drawing room on the first floor. Several people were sitting in the drawing room, and Siles glanced over and saw his students. Angela and Millicent were sitting together, while Dorothea was sitting with a relatively older lady. The former were comforting the latter. That lady was likely Millicent’s mother. The four ladies were enveloped in an aura of fear and anxiety, which was vastly different from the lively conversation atmosphere on the other side of the room.
On the other side, on the sofa, sat three people. One was a pot-bellied merchant, the same Bill Beaumont whom Siles had seen at Gourmet Town and the October Fair. He was the manager of the Greyson Food Company. At this moment, his face was full of smiles. Another was a haggard, thin middle-aged man with glowing eyes. He seemed to have a sense of spiritual exhaustion but was trying hard to burn himself. He wore thick, gorgeous pajamas, occasionally showing a sharp, sinister smile. His teeth were very yellow. The last person was an old man with white hair and beard, covered in wrinkles. He looked serious, his eyes fixed on Marquess Austin, as if feeling puzzled or heavy.
The arrival of Siles and Jon broke the stalemate.
“Professor!” Angela exclaimed, supporting Millicent as she walked over. Dorothea also supported the lady as they walked over. The older lady looked at the men on the sofa, then at Siles, and finally said in a low voice: “Andrew, then, I will go to the living room to entertain the guests first.”
Marquess Andrew Austin nodded indifferently.
Siles and Jon looked at each other and established a division of labor—Siles was responsible for the clues from the ladies, while Jon was responsible for the men.
Siles then followed the students and the older lady out of the drawing room. They passed through a corridor and came to a smaller, but equally exquisite and complicated sitting room. A servant brought tea and pastries, but no one was in the mood to eat at this time.
Marchioness Austin greeted Siles and then said weakly: “Sorry, Milly. Mother is going upstairs first. I really…”
Millicent was pale; she shook her head and whispered: “Go rest, Mother.”
Marchioness Austin nodded and left.
In the blink of an eye, only Siles and his three students remained in the room. The atmosphere was still heavy. Siles looked at Dorothea and found that even this most proactive student had a worried expression on her face. He asked: “What exactly happened?”
This question made the atmosphere in the room relax. Millicent cried in a low voice, and Angela hugged her shoulders, whispering to comfort her. Siles walked over to the window with Dorothea and talked in a low voice. However, before they could say two sentences, Dorothea couldn’t help sighing wearily.
“Professor, everything started from last night.” Dorothea whispered. “Last night, the merchant suddenly came to visit. Angela and I were there at the time. We originally wanted to refuse him entry, but… after that elder from the Historical Society came by before, Milly’s father had locked himself in the study. We were afraid something would happen, and this merchant seemed to know some inside information. So, in the end, we let him in. He stood at the door of the study, and after not saying two words, Marquess Austin let him in. They talked all night. We don’t know… what exactly they talked about.”
Dorothea’s words seemed to imply something. She seemed to be implying that as a Revelator, she actually had a ritual to eavesdrop on their conversation, but somehow, she didn’t hear anything.
Siles nodded and said: “By this morning, you found that Marquess Austin’s attitude had undergone a complete turnaround?”
“Yes.” Dorothea said. “It’s unbelievable. We just don’t understand how this happened.”
Siles thought to himself that he had a guess instead. Before he knew that Bill had come by, he thought Marquess Austin was just having another episode. However, since this Bill had come, and it was only after his conversation with Marquess Austin that the latter’s attitude changed, the situation was very clear—it was he who dissuaded Marquess Austin. In other words, he prevented the matter from blowing up.
In order to help Millicent, Angela had gone to ask for help from the Council of Elders of the Historical Society on Siles’s advice. This obviously used Angela’s family power. And that elder, judging from his expression, didn’t seem not to care about this matter; he didn’t think this was just young people making a fuss. He had obviously noticed Marquess Austin’s oddity.
In this situation, if Marquess Austin maintained this state, he would likely attract the attention of more big shots—thereby the schemes of Bill and the Greyson Food Company he managed might be discovered. Preventing Marquess Austin from continuing to go mad was a very necessary thing. After all, they wouldn’t want to let the crazy scene from Gourmet Town repeat itself, right?
In this process, the only thing that felt strange to Siles was why Bill would know that Angela had asked for help from the Historical Society’s Council of Elders. Was there any place where it might have leaked? The Historical Society? Marquess Austin? Siles couldn’t think of anything that could directly link to Bill; this was a bit strange. Unless that elder had been bragging about Marquess Austin’s affairs in his social circle, alerting the big shots behind the Greyson Food Company… but that was too fast. The elder had only just come the day before yesterday, and last night, Bill immediately ran over to dissuade Marquess Austin? By the communication conditions of this era, this was simply unbelievable.
Siles fell into deep thought, and Dorothea didn’t interrupt his thinking, just looked at Millicent with a bit of worry. The young girl had been hit by this series of changes to the point of spiritual lethargy; at this moment, she was crying without making a sound, her hollow eyes staring forward.
Just then, there was a sudden quarrel outside the room. Siles snapped back to reality, instructed Dorothea to stay here to keep Angela and Millicent company, and walked to the door to listen intently.
“…What?! That won’t do!”
“…You weren’t… like this before… you promised…”
“No no no… I beg you…”
“No room for discussion… must… destroy… the terrible thing…”
Siles listened for a moment and understood. That old voice—that was probably the elder of the Historical Society—demanding that the portrait be destroyed, and a voice was preventing it. He didn’t hear Jon’s voice, but he heard Bill’s voice. After a moment, the sound of messy footsteps gradually went upstairs.
Siles thought for a moment, turned back to let the three students stay in the room, and planned to follow them up to take a look. Dorothea originally wanted to go with him, but looking at her two friends, in the end, she could only give up helplessly. Millicent was completely out of her mind now, and Angela’s strength… so someone had to stay here in case of any accidents.
Siles also thought of the Marchioness upstairs, but he couldn’t care about that for the moment. He always felt something was going to happen.
He opened the door, walked out, and closed it behind him. He stood at the end of the gloomy and long corridor. He thanked himself in his heart for his usual caution, allowing him to put enough protective items in his bag. He first drank the 10% purity potion, then wore the brooch to replicate [The Silent Heart]. Afterward, he held the [Warrior’s Black Umbrella] in his hand, put the shield fragment gifted by Commander Bunyan in his pocket, put his right hand in his pocket, and walked quietly up the stairs—he was already wearing the leather boots Commander Bunyan had given him before. This was just his instinctive caution, but the [Boots of Nature] brought him great convenience at this moment.
He didn’t even hear his own footsteps walking up the stairs. During this process, he heard the sounds of quarreling and cursing upstairs becoming louder and louder. Finally, he heard a vigorous old voice roar: “No matter what, this damn thing must be destroyed!”
Then, there was the sound of someone falling to the floor with a thud.
Siles felt a tightness in his chest and hurried his pace upstairs. On the third floor, he saw an open door and a figure lying on the ground. He looked closely and found it was indeed that elder. He lay on the ground, his white hair covered in blood, life or death unknown.
Siles strode over, entered the door, and found three people confronting each other inside—Detective Jon, Marquess Austin, and the merchant Bill. Bill stood silently by Marquess Austin’s side, saying nothing, his smile gone. Anger surged in Jon’s eyes, and sparks of fury seemed to burst from Marquess Austin’s eyes.
Siles’s appearance temporarily broke the stalemate. He walked over, stood beside Jon, and said in a low voice: “Talks broke down?”
Jon sneered: “That portrait.”
Marquess Austin and Bill were standing in front of the portrait. Facing away. That portrait was placed by Marquess Austin in the center of the study’s bookshelf—a strange man wearing a white chef’s hat. Siles just glanced at it, then fixed his gaze on the two people opposite, while opening the black umbrella in his hand.
Bill watched the black umbrella in Siles’s hand vigilantly and said at this moment: “Sir, I didn’t expect you to appear at this time, but you don’t have to participate in this matter…”
He was saying this when he suddenly raised his hand.
“Careful!” Jon shouted, “That was just…”
Siles said nothing, his right hand, which had been in his pocket, suddenly pulled out, blocking the shield fragment directly in front of him. Two layers of blue radiance overlapped, and the next moment, an invisible bullet collided with the round shield formed by the blue light, disappearing with a pop. The bullet’s impact didn’t even make Siles move a step.
“How could you…” Bill looked somewhat confused.
Siles thought that the elder was, of course, a powerful Revelator, so what ritual could have escaped his sharp eyes? Only—guns. Only this type of weapon belonging to the secular world could make him lose his vigilance.
The ritual of guns… was that a physical attack or a supernatural attack? Siles chose to overlap the two defensive rituals he currently possessed in a flash of lightning. Those two layers of blue radiance really converged together, forming a circular protective film, and the patterns on the shield ornament vaguely appeared on it, looking very beautiful. And that was also very practical, indeed helping Siles resist the attack of the invisible bullet. However, Siles also didn’t expect that Bill had a gun that could fire invisible bullets in his hand… what kind of ritual was that?
“Damn it!” Marquess Austin suddenly roared wildly, “What are you all doing?! How could you do this kind of thing in front of the gods?! Beating, cursing! But this is the god’s banquet!”
Siles felt a sudden shock in his heart—banquet! He looked at Bill, finding that this merchant’s forehead was also seeping with sweat, as if very nervous. Detective Jon was muttering the word “banquet” in a low voice nearby.
Austin’s eyes were bloodshot, staring fiercely at everyone present like a bloodthirsty wolf, including Bill. Just at this moment, Siles suddenly heard a strange sound of fabric tearing. The next second, his gaze fell on Marquess Austin’s body. Then he said in great shock: “How could he…!”
Jon and Bill also looked over, then emitted screams of horror. Marquess Austin’s originally thin body suddenly expanded; he seemed to have eaten himself into a fat man in one bite, fat accumulating on his chin, cheeks, and waist, making his whole body look fat, like a mosquito that had drunk its fill of blood. Because his body was so huge, his pajamas could no longer accommodate him and tore during the struggle. His body was thus exposed to everyone’s gaze, but—could that still be called a human body? It seemed to be just meat.
Above that mountain of meat, a hole cracked open. He giggled, moving slowly, his eyes obsessively looking at that portrait.
Bill retreated two steps without a sound, his expression looking uncertain.
“…Out of control.” Jon said in a low voice, “The last step of spiritual death… out of control.”
Siles thought, such loss of control… seemed not only to be a mental loss of control, but also a loss of control and mutation in the body. If compared to the three elements of physique, spirituality, and willpower, then it was the collapse of willpower completely breaking through the constraints of spirituality, directly affecting the physique, finally causing mutation and loss of control in the human body. Siles thought of the contents of the explorer Friedman’s travelogues—people with feathers on their bodies. Marquess Austin was the first person he had seen who had lost control.
From the out-of-control time traces to out-of-control people, the situation was always getting worse and more serious, until… death. His collapsing body was being filled with meat and blood, his lost soul was being filled with greed and gluttony. His eyeballs glared fiercely at the portrait, occasionally revealing stupidity, occasionally flashing cruelty.
“…What will happen to him?” Siles asked.
Jon said: “Should ask this… merchant.” He looked at Bill, “You were the one who sent this portrait over.”
Bill looked very uneasy and nervous, sometimes looking at the meat block that was constantly expanding, and sometimes licking his lips, looking at Jon and Siles. A scent of meat seemed to permeate the study. Bill said in a low voice: “I don’t know… in fact, I didn’t know at all that this portrait would cause such serious consequences.”
His words sounded very sincere.
Siles said in an icy voice: “Just like you didn’t know at all that the diners in Gourmet Town would be so crazy?”
Bill raised his head suddenly, looking at Siles with a look of hidden ferocity, confusion, and anxiety. Finally, he said softly: “This… how would I know, in fact… none of us knew…”
“Out of control.” Siles said in a low voice.
Bill blamed everything on loss of control. The Gourmet Town matter was a loss of control of the situation; the Marquess Austin matter was similarly a loss of control of his mental state. But didn’t these losses of control ultimately come from what he did?
Jon similarly said coldly: “You just directly chose to open fire.” Saying this, he couldn’t control himself and swallowed his saliva. The scent of meat in the room became more obvious, also mixed with other smells—the sweet scent of cream, the fragrance of bread…
This place seemed like the scene of a banquet.
Siles frowned and said: “Let’s leave first…”
At the same time, he recited in his heart: “Determine Andrew Austin’s…”
He tried to save all this, although he knew very well that from the beginning of Duke Austin’s madness and loss of control, everything was already beyond saving.
Just at this moment, a sound of flesh tearing clearly rang in their ears. They subconsciously looked at Marquess Austin—he had already expanded from a person into a bright red meat block, and now, his skin really couldn’t wrap his infinitely reproducing meat.
Thus, the meat block cracked open.
Siles almost subconsciously closed his eyes, feeling a wave of nausea and vomiting. That pile of fat and meat scattered to the ground, but the scent of food on their noses still hadn’t dissipated, even becoming more intense.
Siles clearly heard someone swallow their saliva.
…Who could it be?
He opened his eyes, and just now everything seemed to be a hallucination. The bright red meat and white fat on the ground disappeared, leaving only a pile of bones. The smell on their noses also disappeared. For a time, no one spoke.
Siles looked silently at the portrait, clearly—or perhaps it was just his hallucination—noticing that the strange man wearing a white chef’s hat had a trace of satisfaction in his eyes from having eaten his fill. But the next second, the man on the portrait still looked like a dead object.
Siles squinted and said: “You did this on purpose, Bill.”
Bill looked startled, but he immediately shook his head and said: “Don’t misunderstand.” He moved his body slowly, walked over, folded the portrait, lit the candle on the side, and burned the portrait with the candle’s fire.
He smiled and said: “Now, everything is solved.”
There was a cry of pain at the door; the elder from the Historical Society woke up, and he asked in confusion: “What’s going on… is everything solved?”
