Steam Old Days: The Extraordinary Begins with a Corpse Collector

Chapter 110 The Hunter, the Truth About the Dream Weaver Society

Looking at that weathered face, Lyndon's heart pounded wildly in his chest, almost bursting out of his ribs.

Ignoring the pain in his body, he stubbornly got up from the wooden bed and swayed as he walked toward the hunter.

"Since you're injured, I still advise you not to move around too much."

The hunter's eyebrows met in a line as he frowned and looked at Lyndon with a puzzled expression as he walked up to him and placed his hand on his chest.

Lyndon listened quietly to the hunter's heartbeat through his clothes, then murmured, "I see—"

He nodded, confirming that the person in front of him was not a superhuman, and then wandered around the rest of the room like a lost person wandering aimlessly.

Finally, Lyndon's gaze fell on a chipped folding knife by the window.

He stood in front of the folding knife, his back to the hunter, and looked up as if he were looking at the scenery outside the window.

"Mr. Hunter, we are so grateful to you for saving us. We really don't know how to repay your kindness."

As Lyndon spoke, his eyes were fixed on the view outside the window, and he realized that he seemed to be in a village.

Strictly speaking, it is an abandoned village.

There was a well in front of him.

The well was covered with slender weeds and also bloomed with milky white wildflowers.

The bucket leaned casually against the well, the water stains on it appearing even more prominent in the sunlight.

"I don't need any repayment from you. Just leave once you've recovered and don't reveal any information about me."

"Not revealing any of your information? That's a strange request, but rest assured, we will." Lyndon's hand had already secretly taken the folding knife.

Now that Lyndon had the folding knife, he tried asking the hunter another question.

"Mr. Hunter, may I ask you a question?"

"Of course, ask me anything you want. After all, I might not have many opportunities to talk to people in the future." The hunter said nonchalantly. He turned his back to Lyndon and faced the stove, lifting the kettle off the stove where it was boiling.

Lyndon was silent for a moment, then asked, "Why is there a picture of Hypnos in your diary? And what does that moth represent?"

Upon hearing this, the hunter abruptly stopped, so shocked that he forgot he was still holding a water bottle.

Boiling hot water flowed from the spout of the kettle into the cup, then overflowed from the cup and flowed onto the ground, all the way to the hunter's feet.

He only came to his senses after the hot water scalded him.

After placing the kettle heavily on the floor, the hunter tried to pick up the water cup, but it was already scalding hot from the hot water.

The hunter was burned the moment he reached out his hand.

He withdrew his hand and repeatedly rubbed his scalded fingers.

The hunter, his voice hoarse, tried to conceal these things: "I don't know what you're talking about. As for the 'God of Sleep' and such, I think you should go to the city and find an old professor who wears glasses."

But Lyndon wouldn't let it go. He continued, "The Dreamweavers, I guess you worked for this organization before, and then you wanted to quit, but they dragged you back, didn't they?"

As Lyndon revealed more and more of the hunter's past, the experienced hunter gradually became restless.

His hand slowly reached towards his waist, where a gun was tucked.

But just as the hunter's fingers touched the wooden handle of the pistol, something sharp pressed against his back.

Upon sensing the sharp object, the hunter closed his eyes in despair, abandoning his plan to draw his pistol.

Then he slowly turned around.

Linden was leaning against the window, a blood-red spear that had appeared in his hand, its tip now pointed at himself.

At Lyndon's feet lay a bloodstained folding knife.

"An extraordinary being?" the hunter asked.

Lyndon nodded, rolled up his sleeves, revealing the church's silver runes.

The hunter's expression changed to one of understanding upon seeing the rune.

"So she is too?" The hunter looked at Cecilia, who was still lying unconscious on the bed.

He shook his head and sighed, "If you say I'm lucky, I didn't catch a single small fish today. But if you say I'm unlucky, I did manage to catch two church members."

Lyndon, holding the spear, walked up to the hunter and took the gun from his waist.

It was a revolver that was only the size of a palm.

"However, I am curious, why would people from your church come here?" the hunter asked Lyndon.

"I told you, it's because of the Dreamweavers." Lyndon picked up his pistol and pointed it at the hunter. "So now I want to know what kind of organization this is."

The hunter remained silent for a long time before finally picking up the teacup, which was no longer so hot. He took a sip of warm water, sat back in his chair, and looked at a hole in the wall with his cloudy eyes as he recalled, "Before I joined the Dream Weavers, I was just a hunter who roamed the forest, making a living by catching wild game every day. If I was lucky, I could catch a few alien offspring and sell them for a good price on the black market."

"And this is where I used to live."

The hunter pointed to the soles of his feet.

"Later, the Sutcliffe family raised taxes by at least 30%. We sent representatives to negotiate with them and try to lower the taxes, but it was no use. Those bastards in the Sutcliffe family bribed the city hall officials, and no one was willing to listen to us."

The hunter spoke, his eyes burning with fury.

"Then, my father lost his job in the city. The textile factory laid him off because they brought in a batch of brand-new textile machines, which were faster, better, and more efficient than before! They said it was technological progress and told my father to take it easy, that everything happening now was just growing pains of the times, and things would get better. But at that time, besides me, my father had a mentally challenged younger brother to support, and my mother had also developed many illnesses from overwork in the factory. What could we do?"

Lyndon did not answer, but a hint of pity and sorrow appeared in his eyes as he looked at the hunter.

"Why!"

The hunter let out a long sigh, and he rubbed his face hard with his rough hands until his skin turned bright red before he stopped.

"Then, the mutants in Dark Oak Forest entered their breeding season. The royal capital's security funds were approved time and time again, but the efforts to eliminate the mutants were getting weaker and weaker, and our lives were getting worse and worse."

"It was around that time that Dream Weaver appeared before us. He told us that all the mistakes came from corrupt officials and an inactive church. And if we wanted to change the status quo and live like nobles, we should believe in the true protector of the people."

"The God of Sleep?" Lyndon blurted out the name without hesitation. "So you believed him?"

The hunter nodded, then lowered his head in frustration.

"They did give us a large sum of money, enough to allow us to comfortably get through our breeding season and even support a large family."

"We have no choice. Once the breeding season breaks out, we'll have to flee to the city, but we won't be able to pay a single less tax. Even if we don't die at the hands of the aliens, we'll eventually be dragged into an abyss of taxes and suffocate to death!"

"At least—" the hunter paused, then continued, "we really saw hope—"

"And then what happened? Why did this village become like this?" Lyndon asked, pointing to the view outside the window.

The hunter said, "After joining the Dream Weavers, we secretly used our spare time to transmit our ideas and develop our doctrines to those who resent life. Eventually, even some clerks who were dissatisfied with their jobs joined the group."

"Under the leadership of the president, we kneel before the image of the god of sleep like family, worshipping the human incarnation of the god of sleep."

"The incarnation of the god of sleep on earth?" Linden was filled with questions.

The hunter stared into Lyndon's eyes and said, enunciating each word clearly, "That's the Dreammoth!"

Upon hearing this, it was as if a thunderclap had struck Linden's mind.

He simply couldn't believe that anyone would worship a different species as a god.

The hunter gave a bitter smile, his eyes filled with unbearable sorrow.

He clasped his hands together as if praying to the heavens: "We were absolutely crazy back then! We abandoned everything to take care of it, to worship it, to raise it as our child, until that day when the child we raised spread its wings and flew out of the nest."

At this point, the hunter seemed to be pulled back to that nightmarish night.

That night, the moon was bright and the stars were few, and the night wind was blowing.

After a busy day, the villagers closed their windows and turned off their lights early, intending to rest and go to sleep.

But then, the sound of flapping wings came from the night sky.

The noise woke everyone up, and they all opened the windows and looked up at the sky.

The Dream Moth hovered over the village, its colorful wings shimmering eerily in the moonlight.

Then, suddenly, bursts of shimmering powder rained down from the sky, as if the stars had fallen to earth.

The bewitched people thought it was a miracle, and they cheered and ran out of their houses, opening their arms to welcome the stars that had fallen to earth.

What they didn't know was that it wasn't a gift from a god, but a messenger leading them to hell.

Soon, those who came into contact with the scales collapsed one by one.

Their breathing became weaker and weaker, and their heartbeats slowed down.

In the end, the entire village died.

But when they died, their faces were filled with the happiest and most content smiles.

Then the Dream Moth landed in the village, lying on the ground and enjoying its dinner like a wild beast.

At that time, the hunter was still tending to the eggs of the Dream Moth, so he escaped unharmed.

He saw the Dream Moth fly out of its nest and even reported it to the chairman.

The chairman, however, did not take it seriously and even showed a smug smile.

He told the hunter that God's messenger was there to guide His most devout people to the eternal Kingdom of God.

The hunter, unaware of the truth, was quite pleased with this.

He even showed excitement and envy.

The hunter returned to the village and found the ground littered with corpses.

That scene was like hell.

Perhaps influenced by the spirits of the villagers, the hunter regained his senses that night and decisively betrayed the Dream Weavers.

Although he was eventually caught.

Because the Hunter was among the first to join the Dreamweaver Society, he knows too many secrets, so the Dreamweaver Society will not let him go.

"And now I've run away again." The hunter finished speaking and opened his arms. "Later, I figured it out! I didn't want to run away anymore! I returned to this place where I was born and raised, and even if I die, I will die with my family."

The hunter said calmly.

After hearing the hunter's account, Lyndon felt a chill run down his spine. He suppressed his turbulent emotions: "An entire village is dead. Such a huge thing, and not a single person questions it? What about the officials in Wiltling? Didn't they react at all?"

"Hmph!" Upon hearing this, the hunter's face revealed an expression that was a mixture of sorrow and mockery.

He stood up and rummaged through the corner of the room and found a small glass bottle.

The bottle contained a fine powder that shimmered with an eerie purple light.

Lyndon's gaze was instantly drawn to the bottle of powder. He stepped forward and stared intently at the powder inside.

He murmured blankly, "What is this?"

The hunter said with deep-seated hatred, "This is the weapon they use to control this organization! We call it—the Sleeping Kiss."

"This is made primarily from the scales of the Dream Moth, mixed with other ingredients. Just ingest even a tiny bit—" the hunter shook the bottle, "and you'll experience unprecedented joy; all pain and worries will vanish!"

"However, your soul will also degenerate with each act of absorption, until you become a puppet."

The hunter slammed the bottle of powder onto the table.

"This stuff, like a plague, has spread to every corner of Wiltrin through various channels. It's become fashionable in the black market, among ordinary people, and even among the upper class."

Lyndon picked up the glass bottle, his gaze deep.

Just then, Cecilia, who was lying on the bed, suddenly stirred.

"Well----"

Lyndon looked over at the sound and saw that Cecilia was about to wake up.

He quickly stuffed the bottle of powder into his pocket.

At the same time, Lyndon put away the blood-red spear.

He signaled to the hunter with his eyes not to say anything inappropriate.

The hunter looked at Lyndon and then nodded.

Cecilia's first words upon waking up were, "Where am I?"

Lyndon stepped forward and helped Cecilia up.

When Cecilia saw it was Lyndon, she unconsciously leaned closer to him.

"Where is this?"

Cecilia looked even weaker than Lyndon had been; her face was deathly pale and her thin lips were bloodless!

She didn't have Lyndon's special physique, and her injuries healed slowly. Moreover, she had taken the hit of a vine to protect herself.

Lyndon told Cecilia that after they fell off a cliff, they were rescued by a kind person.

As he spoke, Lyndon pointed out the hunter to her.

The hunter forced a smile and nodded at Cecilia.

"Thank you," Cecilia said weakly.

At this moment, Cecilia turned to Lyndon and said, "We need to hurry back and tell Viscount William what's going on, and then he can report it to his superiors and send more people to rescue them."

Lyndon said with difficulty, "But how are we supposed to get back now? Your health doesn't allow us to go back the way we came!"

Besides, there are people watching us from the shadows.

After saying that, Lyndon glanced at the hunter beside him.

He said this in order to get the secret path from the hunter.

The hunter did indeed want to get rid of the two as soon as possible; the more people around him, the greater the danger of being exposed.

So he offered, "Actually, I know a shortcut!"