WCBD CH142

Chapter 142: The Puppet’s Performance

Before heading into Garrett’s dream, he first visited the farm to confirm the language issue with the dolls.

“Of course, we all speak the other languages of the world,” the doll tilted its head and said earnestly.

The other dolls repeated the sentence in different languages.

He felt a slight surprise, but thinking that this place was ultimately connected to an Old God, he felt less astonished. After all, if a deity only spoke one language, it seemed impossible to gain the faith of humanity all over the world.

No, it should be said, it seemed to have transcended the realm of language.

Of course, for him, this was indeed a good thing. Because these dolls were sufficiently reliable translators.

He needed a doll to act as a translator between him and Garrett Gielgud. However, when he expressed this intent, the petite Doll Number One jumped down from the miniature stage model and leaped onto his shoulder.

It whispered in his ear, “After leaving this house, you can control me just as you do in reality. You can even make me speak, no matter what language. Of course, before you leave the dream, you have to be responsible for bringing me back.”

He once again felt a slight pleasant surprise. But at the same time, he also realized that the dolls still had many capabilities waiting to be developed.

Of course, it was great that they could be of use.

Thus, when Mr. Ghost appeared in Garrett Gielgud’s dream, a smiling child doll sat on his shoulder.

The main scene of the dream was a port, identical to the port they had toured that morning. But here in Garrett’s dream, the originally neat and clean port was dyed in blood red.

Large swaths of blood-red, scattered severed limbs on the ground, and sticky bloody mud like minced meat were strikingly distributed all over the port.

The sky in the dream was also blood red. It was as if someone had blindfolded your eyes with a red cloth. The bright, vibrant blood red was so obvious that Mr. Ghost subconsciously frowned the moment he entered.

The doll also moved because of his uneasy emotions. He reached out, tapped the doll’s head, and said in a low voice, “Sit tight.”

And the doll stared at him with its pitch-black eyes, as if saying that Mr. Ghost was the one who caused all this, yet he was tapping its head.

Mr. Ghost’s leather shoes stepped on the minced meat, leaving his footprints just as he did on the red mud of the isolated island.

The master of the dream seemed to have noticed this uninvited guest, or perhaps was merely frightened by this nightmare-like scene; Mr. Ghost felt the entire dream shudder for a moment.

Further away, waves of noisy arguments drifted over. But the sound seemed somewhat chaotic, like a jammed speaker, the volume fluctuating high and low, fragmented, with disjointed words and phrases.

Mr. Ghost walked over and saw the master of this dream arguing with a group of sailors.

In the dream, Garrett didn’t have the appearance of an adult but rather looked like a young boy. He looked at most twelve or thirteen years old right now, wearing a white vest, with a scrawny figure, his entire being exuding stubbornness and obstinacy.

“Why won’t you let me on the ship?” He merely kept repeating this sentence, this question.

“The infamous Garrett Gielgud…”

“That man’s son…”

“He killed all of us…”

“Everyone on the ship!”

“He enjoys wealth all by himself…”

“While we died at the bottom of the sea…”

“The vengeful spirits on the isolated island will avenge us…”

The question Garrett kept repeating received different answers. The answers of countless people echoed throughout the entire dream. Garrett let out a loud scream. The next second, the scene in the dream suddenly changed.

Mr. Ghost saw a dilapidated fishing village and the dilapidated small houses within it. Garrett had changed into the appearance of a grown man, standing there quietly. Inside the house, the sound of a woman crying could be heard endlessly.

They both seemed well aware of this woman’s identity.

“…Who are you?” Garrett asked suddenly. “Why are you in my dream?”

He was using the Middleton language. But Mr. Ghost suddenly felt as if he could understand what Garrett meant. He thought of Doll Number One sitting on his shoulder and grew thoughtful for a moment.

Right now, his senses seemed linked with Doll Number One, which was why it felt like he had acquired Doll Number One’s language ability. Yet in reality, he could not achieve this.

Was it because the power of Akamara he currently possessed was not yet enough to directly interfere with reality?

While Mr. Ghost was thinking, he controlled the doll to speak: “You can consider me a ghost in the dream.”

Doll Number One was a smiling child, and the voice it produced was sharp and thin, very childish. Purely based on the voice, it indeed seemed quite harmless. But Mr. Ghost knew very well that Garrett would not lower his guard so easily.

Garrett turned around and stared at Mr. Ghost with a vigilant expression, saying, “Playing cheap tricks.”

Indeed. Mr. Ghost thought to himself. However, he also didn’t care what Garrett thought.

Doll Number One raised its hand in a very friendly manner, waved to Garrett, and then went on to say, “Your mother is crying. Is it because you, this disobedient son, broke her heart? Oh no, and her cruel, cold-blooded husband too.”

Garrett froze, shock and panic flashing through his eyes. He forced himself to calm down, and then said, “You know nothing; what gives you the right to say that?”

“So you really left home just to keep those things away from your mother,” the doll’s childish voice said unhurriedly. “Does your mother know this? Probably not, because only then is it real enough.

“…Poor mother. Even if her son was trying to protect her, it still hurt her. Now, the people she loves leave one after another, leaving her all alone to…”

“Shut up!” Garrett suddenly said fiercely. “What do you know! You trickster doll!”

He lunged fiercely, wanting to directly subdue Mr. Ghost and his doll. But the doll stood up from Mr. Ghost’s shoulder, kicked out, and lunged toward Garrett as well.

Even though the size difference between the two was immense, the doll’s tiny foot kicked Garrett’s cheek, directly kicking his jaw askew. Garrett fell straight backward.

And the doll stood on his chest, bouncing and stomping for a while before saying, “Don’t be like this, Mr. Gielgud. You obviously know that ferocity won’t bring any good results.”

Garrett trembled in pain. This pain, of course, was not just from being kicked by the doll, but from everything earlier in his life.

“Then, I’ll assume you agree,” the doll said. “Let’s talk.”

Garrett didn’t react, just staring blankly at the sky. The woman’s crying still continued.

The doll lifted its foot, wiped it on Garrett’s clothes, then pushed off hard, jumping straight back onto Mr. Ghost’s shoulder. The force it used wasn’t small, stomping Garrett so hard his breathing hitched for a moment. He sat up and coughed twice.

While Mr. Ghost and his doll watched him quietly.

“…Even if we talk, what good will it do?” Garrett said in a low, hoarse voice. “Can it change everything now?”

“If you don’t try, then nothing can be changed,” the doll said matter-of-factly. “Human effort can achieve anything.”

“Ha, those words…” Garrett scoffed. “Those words don’t sound like something a Middleton person would say. Middleton people have never been like this.”

This remark sparked some thoughts in Mr. Ghost’s mind. He thought of the painter Frank Ronchi. His paintings depicted humanity’s active struggle against storms, which some considered to be the cultural heritage and spiritual symbol of Middleton.

But for some others, things were never like that.

However, Mr. Ghost didn’t fall into contemplation at this moment, because he still had to continue controlling the doll to perform actions consistent with its character.

Thus, Doll Number One said, “So what if it’s Middleton? The world is a vast place, Mr. Gielgud. If you limit yourself to the little plot of land right in front of you, then you might not be able to achieve anything.

“Of course, if you don’t resolve the matter currently facing you, you similarly might not be able to achieve anything. Can you survive in Bethune? I don’t think you can, since your family and career are all in Kingsley.

“You won’t bear to let your mother think you’re dead. You’ll desperately want to return to Kingsley even if it risks your life.”

Garrett’s gaze darkened, and he said, “You really know me well.”

The doll was noncommittal, merely continuing in its harmless voice, “Perhaps that’s true. So, can we have a proper chat now?”

Garrett fell silent for a moment. In that brief moment of his silence, the woman’s crying still lingered in their ears.

“…So annoying!” Garrett suddenly yelled in frustration.

After this yell, the woman’s crying finally disappeared. The blood-red sky also cleared up slightly.

He said in a low voice, “I don’t know what you want to get. The truth, or something else. I can only say, I don’t know those things either. I just… I just need my mother to live well.”

Mr. Ghost and his doll remained silent.

So Garrett clenched his fists and finally said, “What do you want to know?”

“When your father left, you hadn’t even been born,” the doll said. “So, how do you know about your father’s affairs?”

“Because later, people kept coming to my house one after another,” Garrett said almost without thinking.

The doll asked, “Why?”

Garrett sneered, “You really love getting to the bottom of things. Fine, I’ll tell you slowly. Basically, the incident with my father caused a huge uproar; I can’t describe exactly how huge, but I know it involved some important figures.

“So this matter remained unresolved for several years. After my mother gave birth to me, until I was about ten years old, during those ten years, people related to the incident would still pop up from time to time, coming to my house to ask for information or simply to curse us.

“Those people were either the families of the sailors, or people related to the group of merchants who hired my father—you should have a rough idea of what happened to my father back then, right?”

Mr. Ghost thought to himself, No wonder Garrett’s expression changed so noticeably when he heard I knew that dead merchant and had the standing to ask about related information. It seems it was because of the psychological trauma caused by his childhood experiences.

Because his mind wandered, he didn’t manage to answer Garrett’s question in time.

So Garrett said, “Forget it, I’ll just give you a rough account of what I know about that incident, as a way to exchange information so we aren’t talking past each other.” He paused, then added, “Many years have passed, and I can’t remember some things clearly, while other things…”

He fell silent for a long time, finally saying, “…are as if carved into my soul.”

His tone calmed down completely, and then he recounted that past event from over thirty years ago to Mr. Ghost and his doll.

“I pieced it together from many people, finally getting a rough idea of the whole picture. Even though it was my father who had the accident, even though I am his son, I knew absolutely nothing about it at first.

“Those people I just mentioned who came to my house like debt collectors, they provided some information; after that, because of the appearance of these people, I gradually became interested in the ocean…

“…My mother indeed didn’t want me to follow my father’s path, but at the time, driven by some unknown psychology, I was determined to investigate exactly what mistake my father committed back then that made my childhood and my mother’s life as a widow so difficult.

“So I ignored my mother’s objections, went to the port, and mixed with those old sailors. At first, they didn’t know my identity, but they slowly figured it out. Anyway, I got some news from them too.

“Later, I made a bit of a name for myself and accepted employment from some people. They also knew some related information, more or less, though after so many years, their information was somewhat contradictory.

“…Some people even thought my father struck it rich and abandoned his wife and child to go to Bethune. Ha, if they want to, they can gladly hand that kind of ‘luck’ over to that guy.”

Garrett sneered, displaying very obvious malice.

Afterward, he took a deep breath, temporarily suppressing his emotions. He continued, “In short, from various channels, from different people’s mouths, I learned what happened back then.

“When my father went out to sea back then, he was already in his thirties. He had always been in that trade, which was… finding a ‘good ship,’ hoping to pick up some antiques or other profitable gadgets from it to save up some money.

“This trade made him a bit of money, but to say he truly earned anything substantial, that wasn’t the case. He married my mother, his life gradually settled down, and he wanted to leave this trade to become an ordinary fisherman, catching fish all day, so my mother wouldn’t have to live in fear.

“That was the thought. But at the time, my mother was pregnant, and he felt he needed to earn a bit more money, so when that old captain came to our house and asked him to run one last job, he ultimately agreed.

“He wanted to take this last opportunity to earn some money to provide well for this family, and after that, wash his hands of it and stop doing such dangerous things… It sounded good, but he didn’t get the chance in the end.

“Anyway, they set off. The captain of the fleet was an old acquaintance of my father’s, and after they had their accident, the captain’s wife was the person who came to our house to cause trouble the most times. Ha, truly old acquaintances.

“My father also knew many of the other sailors on that ship. They brought us a lot of trouble afterward. That’s an aside, but basically, the merchants who hired them at the time actually came with some folklorists and artists.

“They wanted to make a trip to the Fuliou Sea, being very interested in this northern ocean. Additionally, they had also heard that there were isolated islands in the Fuliou Sea, and that there were natives on those islands. They were equally interested in this kind of marine ecology.

“If you ask me, this sort of thing is actually quite common; not long ago, I met a foreigner who was interested in this stuff too.

“But my father’s group had terrible luck; they insisted on going to sea, insisted on running into a storm, and insisted on ending up stranded on an island with genuine natives.

“Then, they couldn’t just stay on that island peacefully waiting for rescue, but insisted on getting into a conflict with those natives, were forced back onto their dilapidated ship, and insisted on encountering some bizarre things on their return voyage…

“…In the end, only my father returned alive. When my father returned, he brought back a clay bowl.”

At this point, Garrett stopped, a trace of fear flashing through his eyes.

Taking advantage of this pause, Mr. Ghost also organized the information Garrett had provided.

Enoch Gielgud. Over thirty years ago, the reason he went to sea was because a group composed of merchants, folklorists, and artists jointly hired a fleet to head out and explore the Fuliou Sea and the native culture on the isolated islands.

The captain of that fleet was Enoch’s old boss, while Enoch himself also wanted to take this opportunity to earn one last sum of money. Thus, they embarked on the journey together.

They encountered a storm at sea, ended up stranded on an isolated island, got into a conflict with the natives on the island, and had to return to their dilapidated ship, trying to return to Kingsley.

And it was on the return journey that they encountered some bizarre things, causing the ultimate tragedy. Only Enoch returned to Kingsley alone, and at the time, he was holding a clay bowl.

…A clay bowl.

This description made Mr. Ghost feel a sense of peculiarity. Because he realized that clay was highly likely related to the ceramics currently popular in Bethune, and a bowl—a bowl used for eating—represented the God of Food and Gluttony, Timiafa, quite distinctly.

In other words, that isolated island was highly likely the territory of a group of Old God followers. And this group of stranded crew members, sailors, merchants, folklorists, and artists highly likely suffered utter annihilation because they discovered some issues or took some objects.

But why was Enoch able to survive?

Mr. Ghost didn’t ask this question directly; he suspected Garrett wasn’t particularly clear on it either.

Garrett paused for a moment, then said, “Things started to go wrong from that moment on.”

He sat on the ground, his gaze carrying an extremely bewildered and tense emotion.

It seemed that merely recalling what happened back then would make him feel terrified; yet in reality, he was probably just born back then, or perhaps not even born, only hearing about this from others.

He said, “They had been gone for a long time by then, and people said they had all been buried in the bellies of fish; even my mother thought so. I know this because I once accidentally found some things used for sacrifice in the house.

“I asked my mother, and only then did she tell me that because she thought my father was already dead at the time, she had prepared a cenotaph in advance. Anyway, everyone thought they had died in the storm.

“…Because, at that time, the worst storm in decades appeared on the Fuliou Sea. According to some old sailors, that storm was the most terrifying one in the past century, affecting the area for one or two months straight.

“Some places even experienced famine because they couldn’t go out to sea to fish. It was during that period… Of course, this isn’t uncommon; in some small fishing villages, people always think going out to sea to fish is their only way of life.

“…I’ve gone off-topic a bit. Anyway, when my father returned, all of Kingsley was in an uproar. Everyone wanted to know what exactly happened and how my father survived.

“They grabbed my father and interrogated him for a long time, but my father actually didn’t say any important information. After that, my father went home… he became a bit strange.

“Some people said he became extremely gluttonous, able to eat a lot every meal; others said he increasingly liked to eat raw food and raw meat, even eating dirty fish guts covered in blood.

“…My mother’s account is that at the time, my father was only willing to eat with that clay bowl. She didn’t mention what other people said, but I know it’s true, because my mother also felt… fear.

“This matter slowly blew up. You definitely know that there are miraculous powers in this world. Over thirty years ago, Kingsley was still a relatively ignorant place, and people felt that my father and the other people on the ship had provoked something bizarre and dangerous.

“They also said that the reason my father was able to return alive was because this thing wanted to spread its power, wanted to pollute the whole city, wanted to kill everyone.

“As my father’s strange behavior continued day by day, people also grew more and more afraid. Finally, the matter blew up, and people came to my house, saying they were going to behead my father in the town center, because only then could this evil power be completely eradicated.

“…I really don’t understand how they came up with such a method. Anyway, this incident triggered some conflicts. At the time, some old sailors still protected my father, but the ordinary residents felt they couldn’t tolerate it anymore.

“The tribes higher up heard of this matter, felt my father’s situation was indeed bizarre, and so dispatched an investigation team, taking him away to the capital, Bethune, along with that clay bowl.

“…So, there are never any legends of striking it rich, or lucky sailors. The prerequisite for a ‘good ship’ is that it’s a safe ‘good ship’.”

Garrett’s voice gradually faded.

“What happened to your father afterward?” the doll asked.

“He never appeared again. He never returned,” Garrett said. “People from Bethune came to say he was already dead, died in madness. I was actually willing to believe this, but my mother was not.

“The cenotaph prepared when my father went to sea hasn’t truly been buried even now. Of course, I feel my father truly can’t return. Over thirty years have passed already.”

The doll asked in slight confusion, “Didn’t you and your mother go to Bethune to confirm this?”

“Of course we went!” Garrett got a bit angry. “But, what answer do you think those important figures could give us? They’d only say, ‘Ah, the stinking sailor’s wife and son.’ The tone was so contemptuous, as if we were garbage.

“My father was missing, alive or dead, and as time dragged on longer and longer, the investigators from back then lost contact one by one, perhaps having died long ago; what else could my mother and I do?”

Mr. Ghost and his doll fell silent.

Garrett remained silent as well. After a moment, he sighed, his tone suddenly becoming a bit more peaceful. He said, “Speaking these things out loud actually makes me feel relieved.

“…Not long ago, I also had an accident. You probably know. Although I only encountered some strange things in the storm, not as thrilling as my father’s situation, but…

“I seem to have also followed in my father’s footsteps. Everyone died, and only I returned. My mother’s worries seem to have been right all along, and I… I am also that kind of… coward who merely clings to life.”

As his voice gradually weakened, the woman’s crying rang out once more.

Mr. Ghost frowned.

The doll said, “Staying alive is never a cowardly act.”

Garrett looked up in astonishment, gazing over.

The doll said, “Even in a situation like yours and your father’s.” The child’s voice sounded immature, but the tone was absolutely not. “Don’t let the deaths of others become your death.”

Garrett’s gaze trembled; he shuddered, and then covered his face. Mr. Ghost saw his tears but maintained a polite silence. This was Garrett’s nightmare.

The blood-red sky gradually cleared up a bit. Of course, dark clouds still covered many areas. It was just that sunlight spilled onto this dilapidated little house.

The woman’s crying also completely disappeared.

After a moment, Garrett casually wiped his face; he said, “Thank you. Well, that sounds really awkward to say. Anyway, thank you.”

The doll shrugged in a very convincing manner and said, “You’re welcome.”

“So, why did you want to know these things?” Garrett asked in turn. “Are you investigating all this?”

“Not just the matter with your father,” the doll said. “I can provide you with two pieces of information here. First, over thirty years ago, your father’s incident also caused a massive impact in Bethune.

“The Archbishop of the Church of the Past in Middleton at the time went missing because of it, leaving no trace for over thirty years. Furthermore, people related to that clay bowl appeared in Bethune at the time, searching for that clay bowl.

“Second, in recent years, a type of ceramics has suddenly become popular in Bethune; its material comes from the isolated islands of the Fuliou Sea. This soil is made into plates and has become tableware for some important figures.”

Shock was revealed in Garrett’s eyes, and he couldn’t help but say, “Are they crazy? Using such dangerous things!”

The doll simply said, “Perhaps. However, I am also unsure if this soil is related to your father’s clay bowl.”

“I will investigate this,” Garrett said with a sneer. “It just so happens I am in Bethune. I think the people behind these things… likely harbor malicious intentions.

“Things from over thirty years ago might not yield any results from investigation anymore, but current matters still can. I’m happy to let those important figures die, but I also don’t want my father to have died an unexplained death.”

Mr. Ghost and his doll tacitly agreed to this.

Garrett let out a breath, looking to have regained his rumored independent and willful style. He said, “Then, Ghost, shall we meet again later?”
“Of course, Mr. Gielgud,” the doll said politely. “I will come to your dream again the night after next.”

Garrett revealed a highly reluctant expression, saying, “Ghost, do you know your behavior is prying into other people’s privacy?”

“Which is why I try my best not to do this,” the doll said very candidly.

Garrett was left speechless. He said, “Then hurry up and leave!”

Mr. Ghost then left his dream and returned to the isolated island. Another small tree appeared on the island, though Garrett’s tree didn’t seem quite as healthy as Chendo’s.

He observed it for a moment, deciding it was merely an intangible feeling, but it definitely existed.

The three children were not dreaming, so he first returned Doll Number One to the farm and thanked it for its performance.

Upon returning to the miniature stage model in the cabin, Doll Number One could move independently again. It wore an expression of fond recollection, then said, “Sir, you are truly amazing; I highly appreciate your arrangement of the play.”

He was momentarily taken aback, then gave a faint smile.

He bid farewell to the dolls—Doll Number One was already chattering away, telling the other dolls the story it had heard—and then returned alone to the deep-sea dreams.

He first pondered the information Garrett Gielgud had revealed. Overall, the existence of that “clay bowl” suddenly opened up his train of thought, while also making him realize some hidden secrets that might exist behind it.

Regardless, the speculation that the “Island Whale” was Timiafa’s paradise seemed increasingly credible.

Additionally, he noticed an extremely subtle detail—beheading.

Garrett said that back then, some residents of Kingsley wanted to take his father to the center of the town and behead him, believing this was the way to rid themselves of that terrifying evil power.

…Town center. Beheading.

He thought of the tribal ruin Alfonso Carte and Emmanuel had once visited. When Alfonso later described that place to him, he also mentioned a guillotine in the center of the village.

The existence of such lynchings both seemed based on an ignorant ideology, yet the two echoed each other from afar. Was there some commonality here? In more ancient times, did people choose similar methods to deal with these “madmen”?

This might require more documentary evidence to prove. Perhaps he could try asking Alfonso; that folklorist might have more knowledge in this area.

Thinking this, he habitually searched for the dreams of Herman Grove, Professor Dunlop, and the others, but still found nothing. He couldn’t help but sigh.

He noticed Chendo was dreaming, so he headed to Chendo’s dream.

Chendo still appeared in a certain room of the Praia family’s ancient estate, though his expression wasn’t as gloomy this time. On the contrary, he was waiting with joyful anticipation for Mr. Ghost’s appearance.

At a glance, Mr. Ghost could tell that Chendo clearly had a harvest of some sort.

…Of course, the appearance of his lover would also make Chendo happy, but right now, Chendo clearly had an air of triumph about him. He looked as if he was trying to ask for a reward for his harvest.

“You’re here!” Chendo said. “I was just missing you.”

“Good evening, Chendo,” Mr. Ghost said. “It seems you’ve received some good news on your end.”

“…I really can’t hide anything from you,” Chendo said, but he also revealed an uncontrollable smile. He said, “I successfully entered the Tauohetia Cemetery.”

Even though Mr. Ghost had some mental preparation, he still couldn’t help but feel surprised. He asked, “How did you do it?”

“Just by following the method you mentioned, I found someone who died in a foreign land and encoffined them,” Chendo said. “I did it all myself… well, I had learned some relevant knowledge before, the destiny of the Praia family, though it wasn’t anything…

“Anyway, after I successfully encoffined that person, I felt something… the world, underwent some change. I don’t know how to describe that feeling… I realized something happened, changing both me and this world.”

Mr. Ghost listened patiently.

Chendo was clearly a bit excited too, appearing somewhat incoherent, so he took a deep breath. He leaned in and hugged Mr. Ghost.

The latter laughed and said, “Am I your sedative?”

The concept of a sedative didn’t seem to exist in this era, but Chendo understood what Mr. Ghost meant. Chendo said, “You are the medicine that cures me.”

That was a very Chendo-esque thing to say, Mr. Ghost thought to himself.

However, he unavoidably admitted that this remark gave him a warm, fuzzy feeling. At the same time, he felt this warm and fuzzy feeling was much better than the soft, sappy feeling from last night.

He revealed a faint smile.

“Alright, Chendo, time to continue,” he urged gently.

Chendo muttered something, but still obediently said, “Alright. That happened yesterday. After I noticed that strange feeling yesterday, I still couldn’t find the entrance to the Tauohetia Cemetery. Until… just now.”

“…Just now?” Mr. Ghost was somewhat puzzled.

An unbelievable thought appeared in his mind, but he felt it was entirely… unbelievable in the truest sense of the word.

“Right here. I didn’t dream yesterday, so I couldn’t discover the Tauohetia Cemetery,” Chendo said in a low voice. “The Tauohetia Cemetery is right inside my dream.”

Mr. Ghost suddenly realized something; he looked out the window.

Chendo said, “Yes, it’s this cemetery outside the window… right here. This is the Tauohetia Cemetery.”

Mr. Ghost said in slight astonishment, “So, when I enter your dream, it’s equivalent to me entering the Tauohetia Cemetery.”

Chendo nodded, but at the same time he said with a bit of distress, “I have to say… I have to say, I’m not entirely sure either. Things don’t seem that simple. It should be said that my dream equals the entrance to the Tauohetia Cemetery.”

Mr. Ghost suddenly understood, saying, “So, I cannot enter the Tauohetia Cemetery, but I can observe it from here.”

“Yes,” Chendo said affirmatively. “Furthermore, if you hadn’t entered my dream before, allowing me to maintain my sanity within the dream, then it would have been impossible for me to discover that this place is the Tauohetia Cemetery.”

Mr. Ghost frowned. He said, “Does this mean Ligadia’s paradise is attached to Akamara’s paradise… how could that be? Aren’t the powers of the Old Gods supposed to exist in isolation?”

“Perhaps it’s related to what happened during the Age of Shadows?” Chendo guessed, also adopting a somewhat casual attitude, because he was very happy right now and didn’t want to bother with those mysteries anymore. “So, before Ligadia embarked on His journey, He hid His paradise inside a dream bubble.”

Mr. Ghost nodded slowly. This was indeed a possibility, even though it made… made Akamara and Ligadia seem a bit too intimate.

However, the relationships between these Old Gods were inherently quite intricate and complex to begin with. Chendo had once even guessed that Lusmi and Amois were lovers—though looking at it now, that possibility was practically zero—but this was enough to prove that the long years had made this group of Old Gods “familiar” with one another.

They stood by the window, gazing out at the Tauohetia Cemetery outside.

When Mr. Ghost had once looked at this cemetery, he had felt the graves seemed excessively boundless; and now that this cemetery turned out to actually be the Tauohetia Cemetery, he felt even more that his intuition back then had been correct.

Of course, his perspective seemed somewhat different from Chendo’s. Chendo could probably see more from this scene.

Right now, Chendo was leaning his head on Mr. Ghost’s shoulder, looking at the cemetery with a somewhat puzzled gaze.

“What can you see?” Mr. Ghost asked.

“Many, many…” Chendo weighed his words, “…souls.”

Souls?

Mr. Ghost was taken aback.

“Should they be called souls? Anyway, they’re like human figures made of mist,” Chendo said. “They float above their respective tombstones; some are just spacing out, some are chatting, some are tidying and organizing.”

“…Tidying and organizing?” Mr. Ghost asked in slight confusion. “Organizing what?”

Chendo said, “These people who died in foreign lands don’t have family to offer sacrifices, so it’s the Praia family offering sacrifices on their behalf. There are things placed before their graves, like sacrificial items prepared by the Praia family.”

Mr. Ghost thought to himself, This is way too much like Earth.

Chendo’s gaze drifted further away; after a moment, he couldn’t help but say, “There are so, so many souls here. Too many. Endless.”

“Perhaps this place shelters all souls who died in foreign lands,” Mr. Ghost said softly.

Chendo frowned and said, “But what use is sheltering them? These souls just float here, doing nothing. Is this the power of a deity?”

Mr. Ghost considered his words, saying, “Perhaps you can communicate with these souls. You could even search for a specific soul who died in a foreign land.”

He was referencing the help the deep-sea dreams provided him.

But when he said this, they both suddenly froze. They exchanged a glance, confirming they were on the same page—if these souls were all people who had passed away in the past, then it seemed they could learn the answers to many unsolved mysteries.

Of course, only those who died in foreign lands.

Many names surfaced in Mr. Ghost’s mind: Karacoc, Aldous Gershwin, Jacob Farley… these people related to Ligadia were their first choices.

Additionally, his pressing matter, that is, the affairs related to Enoch Gielgud, seemed solvable through this method as well. If Enoch Gielgud had died, then he must have died in a foreign land—died in a place other than Kingsley.

Enoch was indeed not a believer of Ligadia, but the deep-sea dreams also didn’t just shelter the dreams of Akamara’s believers. So, perhaps the Tauohetia Cemetery was the same.

Perhaps the Tauohetia Cemetery also sheltered all souls who died in foreign lands. And these dead foreigners would wait eternally in the Tauohetia Cemetery for a final ending.

Chendo sighed sincerely, “If that is truly the case, then it’s far too convenient. We can unravel many unsolved mysteries.”

Mr. Ghost nodded as well.

At the same time, a sense of irony arose in his heart. He thought that if it were anyone else who had grasped the power of a deity, they might be ecstatic with joy, or feel a supreme honor.

But he and Chendo, they only thought about solving the difficult problems plaguing them. They might not even have truly realized just how massive and fearsome this power was.

After thinking for a moment, Mr. Ghost asked, “Can you search for those souls right now?”

Chendo thought for a while, falling into deep contemplation, and finally shook his head. He said, “I’m afraid I have to make a trip into the Tauohetia Cemetery first.”

“How do you get over there?”

Chendo looked at Mr. Ghost, then out at the Tauohetia Cemetery outside; he hesitated and said, “Just… walk over?”

Mr. Ghost, not knowing whether to laugh or cry, reached out and tugged Chendo’s braid. He said, “Of course. Just like a cemetery in reality?”

“Yes,” Chendo nodded earnestly.

Mr. Ghost thought for a moment, then said, “I believe there should also be some… guiding existences within the Tauohetia Cemetery; you can try searching for them.

“Since the Tauohetia Cemetery is inside your dream, then perhaps this is also the reason for the Old God’s Scion’s existence.”

They both looked out the window simultaneously.

Mr. Ghost said, “You have grasped the power of a deity without even realizing it.”