She is not an investigator.

She didn't intend to go directly into the houses with the fabric hanging there, as that might cause her some unnecessary trouble, but she also didn't need to follow the usual paths that only ordinary people take.

Now, she can also be the Phantom Thief.

Without hesitation, Igris climbed over the low wall in front of her and then onto the roof.

From this vantage point, it becomes quite clear where the streets lead each day.

In addition, Igris also noticed some people who seemed to be blocking the street, and they were wearing very typical old church white robes.

This is most likely the work of the old church staff, who blocked off the streets to prevent the spread of the plague from places where it might have occurred to other areas.

But this method will be useless; these people will eventually contract the plague and die in some unknown corner.

Igris didn't intend to meet them formally, at least not because her attire would easily attract their attention, and if they discovered anything unusual, it would cause a lot of trouble.

Igris looked up toward the clock tower and saw that the streets leading there had also been blocked off to varying degrees, with scattered church workers and others wandering around the blockade.

It seems they've designated this area as a restricted zone, preventing people from freely entering or leaving.

But Igris had to get out, so she had to confront these guys.

In this situation, Igor can probably only pray that those people are lucky and don't actually run into her.

She won't show any mercy.

Slowly, Igris lowered her body, trying her best to avoid being easily discovered, and scanned the nearest and most hidden safe route, but she discovered something... an unexpected surprise.

Although she wasn't entirely sure, Igris still quickly jumped down from the roof and turned to move forward.

-

"Cough...cough cough..."

On the chaotic streets, countless people lay on the roadside, unconsciously emitting an unpleasant odor.

Those smells could be from rainwater soaking, or from festering wounds. Of course, it's also possible that there's a corpse among these people that hasn't been discovered yet.

Nolan walked slowly toward these people, tilting his head slightly as he surveyed the people who had involuntarily lowered their heads.

They were like livestock, arbitrarily exiled here, left to die, and then carried away and cremated.

Nolan couldn't change the situation, so she could only remain silent and do what she was supposed to do.

Beside her, a man in a white church robe frowned in disgust, pointing at a little boy who hadn't lowered his head and was completely unconscious.

"That guy is probably dead. Carry him away and burn him."

Nolan looked up at the little boy with the festering wound on his arm and walked towards him with heavy steps.

Beside him, a man who appeared to be his father embraced the little boy and shook his head sadly at Nolan.

Everyone knows what will happen to the people she takes away.

Even though the father already knew that his child had no chance of survival, he still prayed to God that the plague would end soon and that his child would open his eyes again, grab his hand, and call out his father's name.

He probably only needs a little more time; just a little longer, and the gods will save everyone. If only he could hold out a little longer…

Nolan is not an agent of God, but she has no choice but to do so.

She knelt down and, amidst the father's desperate and resistant gaze, took the little boy, who was only about six or seven years old, into her arms.

His arms hung limply at his sides, and his breathing became extremely shallow, as if he might disappear at any moment.

Or rather, he died the moment he fell ill.

Nolan slowly stood up, watching his father grip his arm tightly, unwilling to let go, yet he couldn't calm down.

She had seen too many things like this before, and the light weight in her hands suddenly felt incredibly heavy.

Whether it's this child, her father, or even everyone here, they all ultimately share the same destiny.

God will not bless these people, nor will He give them a second glance.

No one's suffering is deserved... yet believers always praise suffering.

I'm sorry.

"No...no no...please...please...! I can't live without him, he can still be saved...he can still be saved!"

Nolan remained silent, but a church member walked over and gently bowed.

"Don't be too sad. Your child shouldn't have to suffer in this world anymore. He's just gone to a better place... God will bless him and help him ascend to heaven."

hypocritical.

They always do this, easily taking everyone's life with irresponsible language, and then giving themselves a wonderful excuse.

Hypocrisy is terrifying.

"No...he can still be saved...give him back to me, give him back to me!"

Suddenly, the father lunged forward, grabbed the white robe of the church member in front of him, and smeared the mud from his hands onto the pure white robe.

The filth representing the suffering of the lower classes tarnishes the purity of divinity, but Nolan finds it laughable.

Whether it was those who died in the plague or those witches who were branded as evil, these self-proclaimed benevolent people had their hands stained with blood.

The church member suddenly took a step back, no longer hiding the disgust on his face, and kicked the man in the face, knocking his already weak body heavily to the ground.

"Disgusting bastards...! You all deserve to go to hell!"

He looked at the mud on his robe and kicked the father again and again. Even though the father was covered in wounds and tried his best to cover his head to protect himself from harm, he still did not think of fighting back.

The people around looked at this place quietly, but their expressions remained cold and numb.

Having been emptied of their spirit and soul by the plague, they were no different from the dead.

"That's enough..."

"?"

Nolan's voice came from under the mask, stopping the church member's movements and making him look at Nolan.

He seemed to have discovered something interesting, completely forgetting about the man lying on the ground.

"Are you a woman?"

"..."

Nolan suddenly realized that he seemed to have broken some taboos, such as revealing his true gender in front of these church members.

"Take off your mask."

"...I'm sorry, I have a wound on my face and I can't take it off."

Nolan took a small step back, but he remained relentless, becoming even more excited.

"Ha...you're not a witch, are you?"

"...!"

"Take off your mask! Or I'll call the executives over!"

Nolan stepped back slightly, his hand unconsciously landing on his mask.

In truth, at this point, whether she removes her mask or not, she cannot escape the stigma of being a witch.

This is the witch hunt, and also a tragedy of the times.

"Run! Run!"

Suddenly, the man who had been huddled in the corner grabbed the church member's thigh and shouted with his last bit of strength.

Nolan paused for a moment, then decisively put down the child in his arms and turned to run away.

The church member immediately tried to chase after him, but the man clung tightly to his leg and burst into loud, maniacal laughter.

"Die! Die! You parasites! All of you will die here! Let this curse fall upon each and every one of you! None of you will escape!"

"madman!"

Without hesitation, he punched the man in the head and kicked him, barely managing to break free from his grasp. But by then, Nolan had already vanished without a trace.

"You think you can escape!"

The man reached into his pocket and pulled out a bone whistle.

A shrill sound instantly rang out in the street, and at the same time, whistles began to respond in unison from different streets.

This also means that... a new witch hunt has begun.

The target is this blocked street.

The Gods' Fool - The Rainstorm: Chapter 44, Prepare for a Quick Victory

"It's all over, it's all over, it's all over... those guys found out... no, her, I have to find her... I can't let her get involved."

In the darkness of a street corner, Nolan paced back and forth anxiously.

Her mask was clearly no longer wearable, and her identity had been completely exposed. At present, there seemed to be no other choice but to escape. Wearing the mask might actually impair her observation skills.

But most importantly... she shouldn't have had this accident at this time, because she's not the only witch in this city right now.

If something happens to Igris because of her exposure…

"She's here!"

"It happened!"

At the entrance to the street, several gray-robed believers wearing heavy armor rushed in. They were the executors mentioned by the white-robed believers, and one of the main forces hunting down the witch.

Without the slightest hesitation, Nolan turned around and tried to escape.

She was indeed a witch, but her witchcraft was completely unusable in combat, and she had no chance of gaining any advantage over these men wielding sharp blades.

So she could only run away, keep running away, until no one could find her.

but…

"...!"

From the alleyway behind her, three or four gray-robed believers surged forward, wielding terrifying-looking axes or hammers, and menacingly surrounded Nolan.

Faced with this pincer attack, she had absolutely no way to escape.

"We're doomed..."

As the grey-robed believers drew closer, Nolan seemed to imagine himself being burned at the stake in the future.