When evil gods hold a meeting in my head

Richard glanced down at the shoes on her feet. The dusty gray fabric and the wire-trimmed soles glittered in the sunlight.

He probably understood.

These shoes prevent her from running very far. It doesn't prevent her from running at all, but rather that when she runs in a certain direction, a force pulls her back. It pulls her a certain distance, then stops, and she has to go back. He recalled Nolan's expression when he said this; it was very calm, as if he were talking about something perfectly ordinary.

He pulled her along and continued walking.

After walking a few steps, he suddenly remembered something. She had tried to cross the street, but there was nothing there. But what if there was something there? What if that was where the insect's owner was standing?

She took those two steps just now because she sensed something.

Richard stopped and looked back across the street.

It was the same old house, with its dusty walls and closed windows. Nothing there.

He shook his head and continued walking.

Rosalie stopped several times along the way. Each time, she went in a different direction. Some times she went left, some times right, and some times into an alley. The alley was deep, and she couldn't see what was inside, but she just wanted to go that way. But each time, she was pulled back after only three steps, and then she followed him to continue walking.

Richard looked at the shoes, wondering if Nolan and the others had added something to them when they made them. Something pointing to him. Otherwise, Rosalie wouldn't always end up back by him when she was pulled back. The metal wire on the soles, the incomprehensible symbols embroidered on the uppers—that was probably for that purpose.

He remembered what Nolan had just said—"These shoes can hold her back. No matter where she wants to run, she'll be unable to move after a certain distance."

Nolan's use of the word "leading" is a very apt description!

He suddenly had a urge to have Nolan or Edmund come along. He wasn't familiar with the port, nor with the church people. If something happened, having someone to look after him was better than being alone. Edmund's swordsmanship, or Nolan's strange and unusual skills—either could be of help.

But then he realized that since they hadn't mentioned it, they must have their own things to do. Naansanho's team might not seem big, but they had a lot to do. Mixing potions, crafting items, handling all sorts of miscellaneous requests... Giving him these things was already considered a favor.

He shook his head, trying to stop thinking about it.

We walked for a long time.

His legs were starting to ache. Mays was bigger than he'd imagined; it had taken him almost an hour to walk from West Street to the south. Rosalie walked slowly, so he slowed down too. She stopped seven or eight times along the way, and a few times she almost fell over from being pulled. He helped her up and waited for her to catch her breath before continuing.

Finally, we came to a main road.

This road was wider and had more carriages. He stood by the roadside for a while and then flagged down an empty carriage.

"To South Harbor," he said, helping Rosalie into the car.

The driver was an old man with gray hair and wrinkles on his face, like tree bark. He wore an old cotton-padded jacket with worn-out cuffs, and sat motionless on the shaft of the cart, holding a whip in his hand. He listened to Richard's words, but didn't crack the whip; he simply turned to look at him.

"We can't go to Nangang Port."

Richard was taken aback: "Why?"

"That area has been sealed off since yesterday afternoon," the driver said coldly.

"What? Why is it sealed off?" Richard asked the driver in surprise. "Do you know why?"

The coachman gave Richard a wary look, then glanced at Rosalie sitting in the carriage, his gaze lingering on her face for a second: "It looks like a bunch of lunatics from the Church of Nature's Forest, causing trouble over there! There are probably dozens of them, they even have guns, blocking the harbor and preventing ships from entering or leaving..."

The Church of the Natural Forest? It seems like a lot of things are related to them... Richard thought to himself.

Seeing Richard hesitate, the coachman shrugged: "Are you still going? To be honest, nobody can go now. If you really want to go, I can only take you outside the blockade. You can't get in. The police are blocking the way; nobody's allowed to pass."

Richard thought for a moment and said, "Then you can take me to the blockade... wherever you can get me, that's fine."

The coachman nodded, unable to dissuade Richard, and cracked his whip! The carriage clattered to life... The wheels rolled over the stone pavement, and the carriage swayed back and forth.

Richard leaned closer to the carriage wall, looking at Rosalie across from him. She was still sitting there, her back ramrod straight, that smile on her face. Sunlight streamed in through the gaps in the curtains, dancing on her face.

"Your eyes are still so bright, but they're a bit softer than yesterday."

The street scene outside the window recedes into the distance.

Shops are becoming fewer and fewer. Bakeries, grocery stores, and food stalls are all moving backwards, one after another. Houses are also becoming more sparse, from being adjacent to being spaced apart, and from being spaced apart to being scattered. There are more trees on both sides of the road, most of their leaves have turned yellow and fallen to the ground.

Richard touched the booklet in his pocket, thinking about what the coachman had just said... The people from the Natural Forest Church were blocking the harbor with guns... Was Puta there? If he was there too, what was his identity? Was he a member of the church? Or someone they had captured? Or was he one of them?

As for Rosalie's bugs, were they caused by some church people, or did Puta plant them himself?

Richard's thoughts became increasingly chaotic, and just then, Rosalie grasped his hand, seemingly out of fear or nervousness, which made Richard relax a little.

Several hours later, the driver said wearily, "There's a blockade ahead; we can't go any further."

Richard lifted the carriage curtain and looked outside.

Not far ahead, a rope was stretched across the road, with several men in black uniforms standing on either side, holding guns. Behind the rope was a road leading forward, and at the end of the road, the sea could be vaguely seen, a bluish-gray color shimmering on the horizon.

Further away, you can see the masts of several ships, thin and standing there motionless.

It really was a blockade... Richard had no choice but to pay and help Rosalie out of the car.

The coachman glanced at him, opened his mouth as if to say something, but in the end didn't. He cracked his whip, turned the carriage around, and drove away, getting further and further away from Richard's location...

Richard stood by the roadside, looking at the rope ahead and the men in black uniforms.

The wind blew in from the sea; it was salty, damp, and carried a faint fishy smell.

It smelled just like Rosalie.

He touched the booklet in his arms and pulled Rosalie forward.

The dangers of this world are always so uncertain, yet ever-present, but Rosalie was the first person to bring him warmth since he arrived here…

Richard muttered to himself, "I still need to help my poor landlady. I can't bear to just leave her like this..."