Night Journey

Chapter 130 Darkness
Late at night, Cillian and Dalyn said goodbye at the street corner and returned to their respective homes.

The road wasn't far, but the walk felt incredibly long.

Dalin was both excited and apprehensive, constantly recalling Cillian's plan. Everything was clear; all that was left was how to craft the story of the trap.

When it comes to making up stories, we still have to leave it to Anya. Because of her past experiences, she knows too well how to dance gracefully in interpersonal relationships, weave fragmented lies, and deceive a person's heart.

Cillian shared similar feelings with Daelin, but their thoughts were completely opposite.

“The Invisible One, what new clues will emerge after I kill you?” Cillian pondered. “And that crimson sun…”

He suddenly stopped, stretched out his hand, and a chilling sensation fell, making his fingertips wet.

It is going to rain.

At first, it was just a sparse shower of raindrops, which evaporated into water vapor when they touched the Lighthouse, condensing into a rolling mist in mid-air.

But soon, the raindrops, as big as beans, became dense, like countless cold needles falling from the clouds.

When the first wave of torrential rain struck, the entire city seemed to be thrown into a boiling furnace—the rainwater crashed into the scalding light of the soul, evaporated instantly, washed over the rusty buildings, and the rising white mist carried the smell of sulfur and rust.

The light of the soul pierced through the rain curtain, refracting a distorted halo in the mist. Water vapor gushed out from the drains and sewer openings, mixing with the rainwater to form scalding mud.

Having lived in Hel for so long, Cirien now welcomes its rainy season.

The rain, which should have been cold, turned into an omnipresent hot mist, carrying the smells of coal smoke, engine oil, and cheap perfume, sticking stickily to Cirion's skin.

The suffocating scene didn't last long; the increasingly torrential rain successfully cooled down the entire city.

Cillian was glad that he had gone home to change his clothes before going to the appointment.

He strode into the downpour, letting the rain soak his body and feeling the pervasive chill.

His figure gradually blurred in the rain and mist until he disappeared completely.

……

The rain, like a waterfall, flowed down behind the glass curtain wall in front of Decal and into the misty rain below.

Looking down from above, the entire city of Hull was shrouded in swirling rain and mist, almost blending into the gray, narrow space beyond the high walls. It was so foggy that you couldn't see your hand in front of your face.

"The rainy season is coming..."

Every year, the rainy season is a major headache for the city of Hel. The constant drizzle collides with the abundant light of the soul essence, turning into pervasive heat that rampages through the city.

The city became humid and sweltering, even more unbearable than the summer that had just passed.

Frequent heavy rains cause the river to rise, and even though the spirit craftsmen repeatedly emphasize the excellence of Hel City's drainage system, it still causes several large-scale flooding incidents every year.

Sealing off areas, repairing pipes, draining floodwaters... Hull City is like an old machine, barely keeping running thanks to everyone's patching and repairs, and people are reluctantly indulging in a false sense of stability.

Only Decal was clear-headed, or at least that's what he thought.

The old machine of Hull City is in a fragile balance; if any external force interferes, it will instantly disintegrate into a pile of wreckage.

He glanced down at his watch to check the time.

It's time to leave.

Decal straightened his clothes in front of the mirror and walked towards the door.

As he passed the living room, De Karl slowed his pace, and even stopped.

On the wall in the very center hangs a painting as tall as a person, but it does not depict a handsome figure, nor does it show any magnificent landscape.

dark.

The painting is simply a pure black canvas, and when light shines on it, you can vaguely see the messy brushstrokes.

This painting was not one of the masterpieces in De Cartier's collection, but rather a work inherited from his father, Ruhr.

After returning from White Gorge, Ruhr fell into a state of morbid anguish, and he poured all his emotions onto paper, creating this pure, dark painting.

At that time, De Karl did not understand what his father had gone through and regarded the painting as his work of madness. It was not until later that he realized that the painting depicted the future of Hull.

"Father, I will not repeat the same mistake."

Decal stared into the pure darkness and murmured.

"I will save the city of Hull from this turmoil and chaos."

Pushing open the door, De Karl resolutely walked into the narrow, dimly lit room, boarded the elevator, and ascended into the dazzling light.

The torrential rain poured down relentlessly over the city, the noisy sound of the rain creating a tranquil atmosphere.

With the accumulation of large amounts of rainwater, the first thing to overflow was the murky, foul-smelling gray river, which carried metal slag and waste liquid from the factory, flooding the streets and seeping into the bricks and stones.

A blurry figure appears beneath the undulating waves.

"Damn it, why did it have to be my turn?"

Bill muttered a complaint under his breath.

Every staff member of the city sanitation bureau is required to work night shifts in a specific district according to the duty roster.

Unfortunately, Bill was on night watch that stormy night, and even more unfortunately, his watch area was located next to the Grey River.

He not only had to patrol for signs of chaos at night, but also observe the rising of the Grey River. If the river water overflowed into the adjacent industrial area and damaged the equipment, Bill would face more than just criticism from his superiors.

"My turn? You should be asking how it became our turn!"

Another voice emphasized.

Bill turned to look at the source of the voice. Fortunately, he wasn't the only one on night duty on this terrible rainy night.

"Seriously, who made this schedule? And how did the stargazers make their predictions? Didn't they say there wouldn't be any rain recently?"
"Damn it, these bunch of useless idiots! They can't even accurately predict energy tides, and they can't even understand basic weather!"

Amid a series of complaints, Bill's partner, Veran, emerged from the rain and mist.

The river in front of him was obscured by the shadows of the buildings, and in the places where the light of the soul essence could not reach, Vilan could only hold up an umbrella in one hand and a flashlight in the other.

The sunlight swept across the river, creating rolling ripples.

Vilan exclaimed in surprise, "Wow, the rain is really heavy..."

"It feels like the rain is even heavier than last year."

Bill chimed in, “I read in the newspaper that, according to the scholars’ research… oh, right, because a large amount of source energy has poured out through the gray space, the climate in the real world will change more drastically.”

“I think I’ve read about it too,” Vilan nodded. “I heard that the Desolate North, that godforsaken place, is almost covered in blizzards.”

Bill scoffed, "Are you an idiot? The Far North is covered in ice and snow, you know."

"what?"

Vilan asked, puzzled, "Didn't they say that the northern part of the Desolate Lands is littered with corpses, and the wilderness burns day and night, filled with ashes?"

"That's because every night, a constant stream of demons invades reality, and the piles of corpses are so numerous that even a whole day can't burn them all."

Bill explained, "But in winter, the land will still be covered in ice and snow."

"I see."

Vilan nodded.

Both of them were locals from Hel City. The farthest they had ever been was when they came outside the high walls to hunt chaotic creatures during the energy tide.

Whether it's climate change caused by the outflow of energy, or whether the winter in the desolate north is covered in ice and snow, or piled with burning corpses.

All of this was too far away for the two of them; they couldn't see or touch it, and it was just a topic to pass the time.

"The water level is rising rather quickly, isn't it?"

Bill checked the waterline; the river was rising faster than expected.

"Wait a minute, the rain is heavy, but it shouldn't be this bad, right?"

Vilan examined it and found the same anomaly.

The two exchanged a glance, and based on their years of experience, they both expressed their suspicions.

"Damn it, could it be that those spirit craftsmen overslept and forgot to turn on the sluice gate?"

Realizing the situation, Bill continued to observe the drinking water, while Veran took out his communicator and, amidst the noisy rain, shouted at the top of his lungs to communicate with his drowsy colleagues on duty.

"Wait a minute, Viran, look! What's that?!"

Bill dropped his umbrella and pointed his gun at the churning river.

Vilan wiped the raindrops from his eyes, squinted, and tried hard to make out the shadows in the rushing water.

It was a blurry human figure...

The flashlight beam moved closer, the blurry light becoming clear, and Vilan's expression immediately turned serious.

That was a corpse!
As longtime partners, the two exchanged a glance and decided on their next move.

Source energy rippled around him. Bill stayed on the riverbank, while Vilan leaped into the rapids, grabbed the corpse, and struggled to drag it ashore.

Everything turned out alright, though there were some close calls.

Vilan was panting heavily, trembling all over. Even for a superhuman, the river water was far too cold.

"Could some unlucky soul have drowned?"

"Then this unlucky guy must have drowned last year and was only swept out this year."

Bill solemnly turned the body over.

The corpse was naked, curled up, its body pale and swollen, its face twisted and deformed, making it impossible to identify.

Vilan pinched his nose and said, "Notify the sheriffs; they handle these kinds of things."

"I'm afraid we'll have to take responsibility for this."

Bill shook his head and cut open the corpse's swollen abdomen.

The incision was small, but foul-smelling, black pus and blood oozed out, the thick liquid mixed with a large amount of fungal hyphae.

As senior staff members of the city garrison, the two immediately recognized that this strange thing was related to chaos.

"Is it that case from before?" Vilan asked. "During the vertical farm incident, many bodies were dumped out..."

"Only the Flower River can be affected, while this is the Gray River."

Bill cautioned, "Besides, how many times have we searched Huahe? We've even dug up many missing bodies. How could there be any that slipped through the net?"

"Then this..."

Vilan wanted to say something, but suddenly stopped.

He tugged hard at Bill, his arm trembling as he pointed towards the river.

Bill looked in the direction he was pointing and saw several corpses floating on the surface of the water amidst the waves, all naked, curled up, pale and twisted.

Like a group of cocoons waiting to be conceived.

(End of this chapter)