Steam Old Days: The Extraordinary Begins with a Corpse Collector

Click-clack.

The monotonous yet rapid sound of horses' hooves echoed from afar.

The bell jingled, alerting pedestrians to get out of the way.

The residents of the old town immediately recognized the carriage as belonging to the Church of the Holy Oath when they saw the huge emblem hanging on the roof of the carriage.

Out of fear of the church, even when pedestrians were still seven or eight meters away from the carriage, they hurriedly moved to the side of the road.

As a result, the citizens spontaneously made way for the horse-drawn carriage.

The carriage sped past the crowds on both sides, its wheels leaving two tracks on the wet ground.

Inside the carriage, young White closed his copy of "The Mysticism of Different Species," placed it on his lap, and then looked at the man opposite him.

"Teacher, you've only slept for less than five hours in the past two days. Don't you really need to stop and rest?"

The man leaning back in the soft chair slowly opened his eyes. He had sapphire-like pupils, surrounded by dense blood vessels.

His silver-gray hair fell casually across his forehead, giving him a touch of unruliness.

The man rubbed his eyes, lifted the carriage curtain, and glanced outside.

"It's still quite a distance to the Thames Bridge; it looks like we won't reach our destination until tonight."

The man took a silver pocket watch out of his vest pocket.

He glanced at the time; it was a little past two in the afternoon.

"Hurry up, we need to get to 17 Rose Street before 8 p.m."

The man shifted his body and spoke to the driver.

"I will try my best, Mr. Hughes. The horse is too tired. Even if I break the whip and whip the horse until it bleeds, it won't go much faster."

The driver gritted his teeth and couldn't help but increase the force with which he swung the whip.

"Mr. Hughes, we can't go any faster, I'm afraid the horses will overturn the carriage."

Hughes, a holy deacon of the church, frowned.

Sitting back down, Hughes loosened the dark blue patterned tie around his neck, but even so, he maintained his composed and steady demeanor.

"Teacher, we don't need to be in such a hurry. The book says that after the Nightmare finishes hunting its target, it will take a considerable amount of time to digest the victim's entire soul and consciousness. During this time, it will not harm anyone."

White looked at the book on his lap and couldn't help but say something.

Upon hearing this, Hughes's eyes sharpened instantly. He twitched the corners of his mouth, revealing a half-smile, and then asked White in a gentle tone.

"White, tell me, which chapter and section of 'The Mysticism of Different Species' you were referring to?"

"Answering the teacher is the first chapter, the third paragraph of the spiritual section."

White answered confidently.

Hughes nodded in satisfaction, then asked, "Could you recite the description of nightmares from the book?"

"Of course, teacher."

White cleared his throat and began reciting the contents of the book word by word.

"Nightmare, a low-level spiritual aberration, is formless and intangible. It feeds on the spirit and soul of living beings, and is particularly fond of intense emotions. Its hunting method involves invading dreams, weaving nightmares, and gradually dismantling the prey's mental defenses, ultimately leading to soul exhaustion or sudden death in reality. After hunting, it needs a long time to digest and absorb the prey's soul essence, thus entering a state similar to hibernation. Each hunting cycle is approximately seven to fifteen days."

Hughes nodded slightly: "White, you are the smartest student I have ever met. I want to reward you."

White scratched his head shyly. He was about to say something modest when he heard Hughes say, "I'm going to reward you by making you copy the entire first chapter of the Spiritual Chapter ten times."

All the emotions on White's face froze instantly, replaced by astonishment in a flash.

"Teacher, I... I didn't memorize it wrong, that's how it's written in the book."

To prove he hadn't misremembered, White quickly and accurately located the content he had memorized in the book.

But Xiu Yis simply raised his hand to signal White to be quiet.

"I don't deny your memory, but I'm disappointed that you've forgotten the most important things."

"The most important content..."

White murmured.

Hughes then spoke slowly.

"The bodies of those killed by nightmares secrete a special biotin containing trace amounts of spiritual substances, and this substance is..."

"It's the Soul-Eating Beetle's favorite food!"

After being reminded by his teacher, White finally remembered.

Hughes applauded with satisfaction.

"That's right, this is the ecological mutual benefit chain between different species."

"The Soul-Eating Beetles are extremely sensitive to this substance. They find the corpses of the dead, inhabit them, release mucus to keep the corpses from decaying, and then lay eggs to reproduce."

As soon as he finished speaking, Hughes's eyes instantly sharpened like knives.

He leaned back heavily on the cushion, his brow furrowed with an unyielding sorrow.

"So nightmares aren't actually scary; what's scary is that a nightmare outbreak is always followed by an insect plague!"

……

17 Rose Street, Phoenix Mansion.

After Carlisle and his party left in a sorry state, the mansion returned to a temporary peace.

After pouring out her heart to Lyndon, Emily was exhausted and fell into a deep sleep on the dining table.

Lyndon took off his coat and draped it over her shoulders, then sat on the other side, quietly watching Emily's sleeping face.

Her eyelashes trembled slightly, and in her sleep, her lips moved as if she were saying something.

stomping on...

Suddenly, footsteps sounded at the door.

Lyndon looked up and saw that it was a maid in the house named Anne, who had some freckles on her cheeks.

She was wearing a black and white maid's dress and a pair of clean women's leather shoes.

"Mr. Lyndon."

The maid saw Lyndon and greeted him.

His master and mistress treated him with great courtesy, so he, as an employee, certainly couldn't be sloppy.

Lyndon nodded in response.

He pointed to the sleeping Emily, gesturing for the maid to lower her voice.

Then he looked at the feather duster in Annie's hand.

"Do you need any help?"

Anne quickly waved her hand in refusal.

"No need, sir. There are long poles upstairs; I'll just tie them together once we've cleared them up high."

"Okay, just let me know if you need any help."

Lyndon didn't want to delay their work, so he gave Anne one last reminder: she must not go near the room where Wendell's body was.

Anne said she understood and then took the feather duster and went upstairs.

The maid's daily task is to clean every part of the house to ensure that the master or guest doesn't get their hands covered in dust when touching anything.

The second floor was unusually quiet in the afternoon.

Only Annie's footsteps and the rustling sound of a feather duster scraping against the wall could be heard.

This job isn't actually that tiring, since it's done once a day, and each cleaning session lasts all day.

The maids need to be very attentive and careful, and cannot be careless in the slightest. If they are negligent in any way, dust will easily accumulate.

Anne slowly cleaned a corridor on the second floor. As she passed one of the rooms, she remembered Lyndon's reminder.

Do not go in.

So she only glanced at it before quickening her pace, wanting to leave as soon as possible.

However, before Anne had taken three steps, a rustling sound suddenly came from the room.

It looked like some creature scratching at a curtain with its claws.

The sound was intermittent, but it was exceptionally clear in the quiet corridor.

"What is it?"

Anne stopped abruptly, her nerves on edge, and her body involuntarily turned back.

She stared at the door, too afraid to open it, so she held her breath and pressed her ear against the door, trying to hear what was happening inside.

But after listening for a while, there was no sound at all.

Is it just my imagination?

Anne couldn't help but start to doubt herself.

But the sound from before was like a record player in her head, constantly swirling in her mind.

The more she tried to tell herself that there was nothing there, the clearer the voice in her head became.

Annie was driven by intense curiosity and an indescribable fear.

She reached out, her hand trembling, and grasped the cold brass handle.

Anne took a deep breath, as if drawing strength from the air, and then she pressed down on the doorknob.

"Annie, come up here quickly! Help me move the cabinet."

On the third floor, her colleague's shouts dissuaded Annie from taking any further action.

"Oh my god, what am I doing? Mr. Lyndon warned me not to open this door."

Annie released her grip, made sure the door was closed, and then left.

Not long after Annie left, rustling sounds came from the room again, but this time they were louder and even included the sound of flapping wings.

Click!

The doorknob inexplicably started to twist.

With a creak, the door slowly opened, albeit only a narrow crack.

Looking through the crack, the room was still very dark.

Suddenly, a nauseating chewing sound rang out, and a thin, purplish-red spike poked out from the crack in the door.

For the rest of the time, until dinner time, the house was so quiet it felt unnatural.

The gas lamp was lit, emitting a warm yellow light that illuminated the room.

The gears pushed the clock hand to the number six.

The wall clock emitted six muffled chimes.

Six maids have prepared dinner for tonight.

A starched linen tablecloth covered the long dining table, and the lamplight cast a warm glow on the silver plates and cutlery.

The main course for dinner tonight is roasted lamb leg, drizzled with caramel-colored gravy.

The side dish is oysters, squeezed with lemon juice, and piled on a white porcelain plate.

The rich aroma of creamy mushroom soup wafted from the kitchen.

Looking at the delicious food on the table, Lyndon was already feeling incredibly hungry.

Since transmigrating to this world, Lyndon has usually lived on bread, strong tea, potatoes, and butter, with occasional stews and fried meats considered a feast.

I'm so lucky to be dining at a wealthy family's house today, I definitely can't skimp on myself!

The second floor.

Startled, Mrs. Phoenix, who had been staying in her room, was helped downstairs by her maid and slowly made her way to the dining table.

Her face remained pale, and she seemed listless, managing only a forced smile even when facing Emily and Lyndon, saying to them:

"Please sit down, consider this a family dinner."

"Thank you, madam."

Lyndon rose and bowed to Mrs. Phoenix in respect before sitting back down in his chair.

The maid cut the meat for the three men and poured them some fine wine.

"Madam Jing."

Lyndon downed his wine in one gulp, then picked up his knife and fork, ready to enjoy his meal.

But suddenly, something strange happened.

A piercing scream came from the backyard of the mansion.

The warm atmosphere that had been painstakingly built up was completely shattered by that scream.

The lady, as if in shock, fell off her chair and sat down on the floor.

Emily suddenly stood up, squatted down beside her mother, and hugged her with her slender arms.

Lyndon gripped the knife tightly in his hand and then slammed it hard onto the table.

"Damn it! I hate it when people interrupt my meal!"

He didn't care about etiquette, grabbed the mutton from the plate with his bare hands, stuffed it into his mouth, chewed a few times, and swallowed it.

"Stay here! Hide in your room! Don't open the door unless I call you."

Lyndon growled, grabbed the saw knife the maid used to cut meat, and dashed toward the backyard.

The backyard was a large, flat lawn with several poles and lines strung on them, where the maids hung their clothes to dry.

There was also a small hut there, used to store tools and other odds and ends.

There stood several maids, and unsurprisingly, their faces were filled with fear.

Lyndon rushed over, pushed them aside, and looked into the cabin.

The sight before him made Lyndon's eyes widen.

A maid lay slumped in the corner of the hut, her body contorted in an unnatural position.

The maid's eyes widened and her mouth gaped open, as if she had seen something terrifying before she died.

Lyndon gritted his teeth, put away his knife, and examined the maid's body as he would when he was on duty.

Her neck was a bloody mess, as if it had been torn apart by some wild beast, with the bone visible deep inside.

"The wound is clean, but the edges are jagged, like a worm?"

Lyndon thought his idea was a bit crazy; how big of an insect would it be to cause such a large wound?

There should be at least one big dog...

Fresh blood gushed from the wound, flowing onto the cold floor and staining half of her skirt red, forming a dark red pool of blood beneath her.

[Examining the maid's corpse increases the Corpse Collector's Proficiency by 1]

[Examining the maid's corpse, Corpse Collector Proficiency +1...]

The air was thick with the stench of blood, almost drowning out the scent of soil and vegetation in the garden.

The voice in Lyndon's head did not affect his examination.

At this moment, more and more servants rushed over upon hearing the news, and in just a short while, seven or eight people surrounded Linden.

They reacted in various ways upon witnessing this horrific scene.

Some people covered their mouths and let out suppressed sobs, some collapsed to the ground with their legs weak, and some even turned around and vomited.

But what they all shared was a lingering fear in their hearts.

It was like a cold, venomous snake coiling around everyone present.

Lyndon's breathing became heavy; the effects of the [Corpse Collection Technique] helped him analyze the circumstances of each corpse's death.

The more he examined the corpse, the more it seemed to resemble a dried-up insect.

An atmosphere of terror spread rapidly through the crowd, making it hard to breathe.

"Shut up! Get out! All of you, get inside!" Lyndon shouted sternly.

The servants' incessant chatter annoyed him.

He suppressed his anger and used the most vulgar language to disperse the people around him.

Soon only Lyndon was left there.

Lyndon continued his examination.

Suddenly, Lyndon noticed a hair in the corpse's hand.

This hair is very thick and feels rough to the touch.

"It looks a bit like a fly's hair..."

Lyndon lowered his head in thought.

Suddenly, he felt a cold wind blow across his back.

He heard a strange noise behind him.

A fishy, ​​foul odor wafted from behind.

"Um?"

Lyndon's heart skipped a beat. He gripped his knife tightly, crouched down, and looked like a cheetah poised to pounce.

He slowly raised his head, and a shadow loomed over him.

Lyndon moved slowly, his gaze fixed on the shadow.

Suddenly, the shadow lurched!

Lyndon reacted quickly, dodging the monster's sneak attack by sidestepping.

The monster crashed into the wall, shook its fat body, and got up from the ground.

It was at this moment that Lyndon got a clear look at the monster's appearance.

It was a huge purple bug!