Mystery: Survival from the Secret Doll

Chapter 284, Section 283: The Red Angel and the Evil Spirit

There were people everywhere overhead, and he was everywhere!
Upon opening his eyes, Raft Pound was terrified by the sight before him. In an instant, all sleepiness vanished, and he screamed loudly and shrilly in horror.

His pitiful, piercing screams seemed to carry far, but all around remained quiet, as if Raft Pound's neighbors were all deep in slumber and sweet dreams, belonging to a different world from Raft Pound, who was trapped in a nightmare.

Raft Pound didn't care about anything else. He practically scrambled off the bed and onto the floor, his calves slamming against the wooden edge of the bed in his extreme terror. The sharp pain told him that this wasn't a dream; it was real!

Interrogation? Murder? Silencing?

But Raft Pound had no time to spare; he scrambled to the door of the room, his hands and feet scrambling in a panic.

At that moment, the bedroom door quietly opened, and a person dressed in pajamas walked into the dark hallway outside.

Raft Pound, pale and terrified, stumbled and crawled. He looked up and saw the man who entered—dressed, dressed, and looked exactly like him! Just like those Raft Pounds hanging from the ceiling!
"Ah...ah...ah..."

Saliva dripped from the corner of his mouth, and Raft Pound rolled his eyes upward, revealing the whites of his eyes.

He collapsed to the ground with a thud, foaming at the mouth and convulsing, clearly having been terrified into unconsciousness.

"Oh……"

Tang's voice came from behind "Raft Pound" standing in the doorway. This oblivious "uninvited guest" bypassed the doorway and entered the bedroom.

He glanced back at the huge full-length mirror placed by the door, which had just scared the guy unconscious, and shook his head with amusement.

"A descendant of the Tudor family, so easily frightened? When I read the original work, I thought this guy had something special about him, but I didn't expect his mental fortitude to be so ordinary."

“If you do this, even if there are special circumstances, you can’t withstand such a scare.”

"Amon" was standing outside the window when he passed through the wall and entered the room.

Tang looked at "Amon," who said, "I've checked. There are people monitoring us, but their surveillance is very casual. We don't need to pay attention to them."

"That's good." Tang nodded.

At this moment, in the huge full-length mirror reflecting Raft Pound, the "Raft Pound" in the mirror reached out, his hand passing through the mirror surface. The "Raft Pound" in the mirror grabbed the foaming Raft Pound by the collar and dragged him into the mirror world.

The scene reflected in the giant full-length mirror suddenly became deep and mysterious, like a passage connecting to another world, fluctuating so much that the specific appearance inside could not be seen.

Not long after, a Raft Pound emerged from within, and he was clearly not the Raft Pound of the real world, but the man from the Baron's mirror.

The newly arrived Raft Pound addressed "Amon" and Tang respectfully: "Mr. Eggers, Mr. Flamel, is this person still being handled the same way as before?"

“Yes,” “Amon” said with a smile. He glanced at the puppets hanging in mid-air, disguised using the abilities of the “Faceless Man,” and shook his head rather helplessly.

Even a demigod would be forcibly controlled for a few seconds by such a terrifying method.

How did Tang come up with such a despicable "door-opening kill" trick?
"Alright, now that we've dealt with this uncertainty, let's go find the Red Angel."

Nikolai glanced at the blood moon outside the window. "The Goddess of Night asked me to tell you that the Astral Plane is currently fine. The movement of the Ring of Destiny is still unclear, and the Fallen Mother Goddess is probably not planning to do anything either."

Tonight's blood moon seems to serve merely as a backdrop for what the Ring of Fate and the higher-dimensional observers are about to do.

"Uh-huh."

Tang clapped his hands and looked out the window at the blood moon that had not yet faded.

The two then disappeared, and "Raft Pound" lay back down on the bed, closed his eyes, and fell into a deep sleep.

-

8 Williams Street, basement.

The guests sleeping above were not awakened by the visitor's arrival; they remained deep in slumber.

Inside the underground passage, Tang walked at the very front.

At this moment, he wore a monocle made of crystal in his right eye socket, and his body began to change as he walked forward.

He had a broad forehead, a thin face, and wore a black pointed soft hat and a robe of the same color as a medieval magician.

Tang used the extraordinary abilities of the "Faceless Man" to transform himself into the likeness of Amon.

After doing all that, Tang stretched out his hand, feeling a little uncomfortable, and pinched his monocle.

The monocle reflected the slightly dark passageway, creating an unexpectedly harmonious effect.

Something seemed to be missing. After a moment's thought, Tang gave a slightly creepy smile.

"Ah, that's right."

"The Conqueror" Brooks, carrying a lantern, followed his puppet master forward.

"Trying to cheat Medici?" Brooks asked.

Tang adjusted his monocle, paused for a moment upon hearing this, and nodded to Brooks with a faint smile, his face still bearing Amon's: "Yes."

"After all, with the deliberate information blockade in place, He should not know that I have almost destroyed Amon. Taking advantage of this information gap, He has a good opportunity to digest the potion."

"The key to 'Mysterious Waiter' is both 'mysterious' and 'waiter.' I've pretty much nailed the 'waiter' part, but I'm still a little lacking in the 'mysterious' part..."

The classic scene where the sorcerer Klein "scars" the Red Angel Medici to death—how can we not relive it?

Klein at the time was just bluffing, but he might not have been.

Almost? How much less?
Brooks' lips twitched slightly as he looked at Tang, who was dressed as Amon and seemed quite pleased with himself, and remained silent.

This is just your twisted sense of humor, isn't it?
Given the ghastly state of Tingen, in just two or three weeks, the performance of the mysterious waiter in terms of "mystery" will only get better, not worse.

"Well, but I'm the embodiment of fraud and pranks now."

Tang made grand and righteous excuses for his actions.

Brooks was very sincere: "Whatever you say."

As the two ventured into the ruins of the Tudor Empire of the Quaternary period, Tang had already transformed the venomous snakes and other miscellaneous underground creatures into his own puppets.

They soon arrived at a hall that clearly had the style of the Quaternary Thodol and conformed to the asymmetrical "aesthetics" of Thodol. They saw several doors and the six statues of gods in human form that could be described as "blasphemous".

Tang clicked his tongue in approval as he walked through the central door of the hall into a narrow passageway wide enough for four people to walk side by side. The light from the lanterns dimmed considerably after entering the passageway, and a faint smell of blood filled the air. Tang continued forward without hesitation, with Brooks following silently behind him.

After walking for a short while, at the end of the passage, there were two stone doors on the left and right sides. The right door was half open, and the inside was filled with mud and stones.

Tang glanced over, made sure there was nothing inside, and then ignored it.

He adjusted his monocle, composed himself, and then, looking like Amon, looked to his left.

At this moment, Brooks, the "Conqueror" carrying a lantern behind him, stepped forward and opened the stone door on the left for Tang.

The instant the stone gate opened, two beams of light suddenly shot out from inside, heading towards Tang.

Brooks didn't reach for it, but Tang simply reached out and held the two cards firmly between his fingers.

Tang flipped the cards over and glanced at them casually.

Oh, the "Red Priestess" card and the "Witch" card.

Two of the blasphemous playing cards created by Emperor Roselle.

After glancing at the two cards, Tang put them away and then casually walked into the stone door on the left with Brooks.

Inside the stone gate were many corpses that had completely decomposed, leaving only fragile white bones, as well as many objects on the ground that gleamed with a strange cold light but did not possess the extraordinary characteristics that constituted the seal.

It was of little value; Tang glanced at it casually and then looked away, not caring much about it.

He didn't linger, but looked at a bloodstained double door that seemed to have undergone some strange change since their arrival.

Inside the door lies a place shrouded in the aura of blood and the fog of war, a place that cannot be observed through normal means.

Tang squinted, and his right eye, which was covered by a monocle, quietly changed from a dark black to a bright, luminous color. He quickly scanned the scene inside the doorway, and then his eyes returned to their original state, without attracting the attention of others.

"I didn't expect this, little crow. After I got trapped here, you were the first one to come looking for me, and you even brought this along, hmm..."

The owner of the voice seemed to be sizing someone up, and then a chuckle was heard.

"The Einhorn brat? Heh, so that madman Arista Tudor is dead after all. His traits even dropped out. Tsk, what a useless thing..."

Brooks is a puppet created by the theater during the Fourth Age's Four Emperors War, captured by the theater.

During that period, the Red Priest pathway was almost entirely controlled by the Medici, Einhorn, and Sauron families, and the high-ranking members of the Red Priest pathway were mostly from these three families. It was not surprising that the Medici knew Brooks' identity before he became a puppet.

"Conqueror of Einhorn..."

Another voice, somewhat different from the mocking one at the beginning, came from behind the blood-soaked double doors. This must be the voice of the Einhorn family ancestor, another spiritual voice that was combined with Medici and Soren.

Sauron, Einhorn, and Medici, the three Sequence 1s, were captured by Arista Tudor, forcibly killed, and turned into evil spirits. They remain imprisoned and sealed in this ancient ruin of the Fourth Age.

Tang gently rubbed the two blasphemous playing cards in his hand with his fingertips. He habitually adjusted his monocle in his right eye socket and asked:
"It seems you two have integrated quite well. After all these years, you still have your sanity and haven't really gone mad, Medici."

"Pfft."

To everyone's surprise, a slightly lazy voice interrupted Tang before he could finish speaking, "Alright, stop pretending. You're not Ameng, are you?"

Tang paused in his grip on the monocle, and Brooks was also somewhat surprised.

"How did you tell?"

Tang, disguised as Amon, thought that since he had dealt with Amon for so many years, he shouldn't be recognized at a glance.

"However, it was me, haha, who raised that ungrateful little crow from scratch. How could I not see the difference between you two... I just didn't expect that the crow would actually be plucked, and now it has even lost its uniqueness... And your disguise is really terrible. How did you digest the potion?"

The Red Angel Medici's slightly mocking voice rang in Tang's ears.

Okay, okay, I've scolded both him and Amon.

"You hunters really know how to offend people."

Tang couldn't help but chuckle twice.

Brooks: ...

It has nothing to do with him, why is he getting dragged into this?
"Ok."

Tang shrugged helplessly, but showed no intention of taking off his monocle and reverting to his original self.

"What, are you so ashamed to be seen in public that you always have to talk to me wearing someone else's face?"

Seeing that their identities had been exposed, and that the other party still showed no intention of revealing their true form, a mist of bloodshed and war seemed to drift slightly outward from the depths of the blood-soaked gate.

"...Ah, if that's how you put it, then I have no objection."

The best way to deal with provocation is to give up.

Tang does have a set of logic for dealing with this kind of person: just ignore their provocations.

"Besides, I've helped you quite a bit, haven't I, Mr. Soren Einhorn Medici? Always making sarcastic remarks isn't a good habit..."

Seeing that Amon's shell was completely useless, Tang had to try another approach.

Medici clicked his tongue in amazement, and said with a tone that seemed to say, "You idiot, the stupid thing you did makes me laugh out loud, so you brought me those two strange cards?"

Compared to the crazed, terrifying evil spirits, Soren Einhorn Medici was now in a more lucid state, unlike ordinary evil spirits.

“What you’re saying isn’t entirely wrong,” Tang said.

"So, what do you want?" Medici asked bluntly. "There is no such thing as help without a reason in this world. What do you want from me?"

Hunters are quick-witted, and rightly so, they're all seasoned schemers.

"Shouldn't you hunters use conspiracy theories and brainstorming to figure out what I want to do?" Tang asked with a smile, still maintaining his composure. "Then why don't we ask our Red Angel to guess what I want?"

The voice paused for a long time, as if it were considering what it possessed that would make a conqueror want to cooperate with it.

Then, Medici's voice rang out:
"Red Priestess".

(End of this chapter)