Academic gathering with Lich colleagues

It's probably Ralph. At this time, the night patrol has ended, and given the bizarre things that happened around Lyle last night, it's somewhat unexpected that he's visiting so late.

When the door opened, the man was indeed standing outside.

He was still hunched over, with a zombie-like face. The fatigue from staying up all night was not reflected on his face at all, although his dark circles were slightly darker.

He carried an oilcloth bag in his hand. He walked straight to Lyle's table, placed the bag on it, and through a sliver of light, one could see that it contained ingredients such as potatoes and carrots.

"I just went to the market and saw some cheap vegetables, here you go."

"Hmm." Lyle would be grateful, but he wouldn't express it verbally. Ralph's help couldn't be simply summed up with a thank you, and besides, he didn't need it. Family members don't need thank yous.

"Stay for a meal, Uncle."

"No, I've been on patrol all night, I just want to go home and sleep."

"Then I'll make you some soup, drink a little bit, it'll help you sleep."

"...Alright."

Lyle started busying himself in front of the pot.

Ralph sat in his chair, occasionally handing Lyle the ingredients to keep him from running back and forth between the fireplace and the table.

"I know what happened last night. Your work is done. Congratulations, newcomer."

“I guessed it. When Mr. Jordan asked me to come back, I knew I had passed the test.”

This is a lie.

One of the biggest reasons Lyle couldn't sleep last night was that he was speculating about his work results. Logically speaking, he hadn't found the cause of death, but last night's events couldn't be explained logically, and Wilt's words and actions didn't show the slightest dissatisfaction.

“You didn’t tell me that Gibb Wilt was your mortal enemy.”

"It's just a difference of opinion."

"Can I interpret this as a test? Dissecting a corpse alone, and finally facing a bizarre test."

“I guessed that Wilt would neglect his duties and not do as I suggested. That was part of what I expected of you. The composure and calmness I expected to see when you were alone in a dark corner facing a corpse.”

"But I didn't expect that you would encounter a [special event] on your very first day of work."

"Isn't that quite common?"

"【Special Events】occur about two to three times a year. Although rare, they are very memorable."

Lyle stirred the spoon vigorously, so I've won the grand prize. First, I witnessed the holy light, then I witnessed the strange things. Lyle touched the letter in his pocket, and there's a possibility of encountering more in the future.

Mysteries followed one after another.

"Oh, right, I have something to show you." Lyle took the letter out of his pocket and kept the envelope. The dark blue wax seal on the envelope was the academy's emblem. Lyle had a feeling that it was something more important than the contents of the letter.

The plant on the emblem is nightshade, a plant with anesthetic and blood pressure-lowering effects; an overdose can be fatal.

To most people, the nightshade has a more ominous name: the death knell flower. It only grows in cemeteries, a sign of misfortune and bad omens.

Lyle secretly hopes to study at Andre Academy. Ralph is his family, and he is willing to discuss this choice, which can be said to go against the times, with Ralph, but he will also screen the content to some extent.

Ralph took the letter from Lyle's hand, glanced at it, looked at both sides a few times, and then stared intently at Lyle until Lyle started to break out in a cold sweat before he looked away.

Lyle felt a scrutinizing gaze from him; he felt like a child expecting his parents to buy him a toy. He nervously replied, "How was it?"

"Hmm...this paper is very good, the quality is very good."

"???" Lyle felt like he was putting on a show for a blind man. I don't remember Ralph being a master of lame jokes.

"I mean the content! The content!"

"The contents?" Ralph looked at the letter again and again. "Isn't this just a blank sheet of paper?"

What? Lyle looked at the black and white words on the letter, which were as conspicuous as ants on honey in Ralph's hands.

The words are on top, but can't Ralph see them?

Ralf is not one to joke, which means this letter will choose its reader. Lyle's awe of the power of the mystical side has grown even stronger.

"There are words on this paper? What kind of word game is this? And what kind of developing agent did you use?"

"Haha, you've been found out." Lyle chuckled, took the letter from the helpless Ralf, and carefully put it back in his pocket. Since Ralf hadn't noticed, he decided not to tell him.

Lyle didn't have the courage to tell him the truth again.

Andre College is the path I'm walking on, a path only I can see.

"Alright, the soup is ready."

Lyle ladled a steaming bowl of vegetable soup from the pot and handed it to Ralph.

It seemed to taste good; Lyle even saw his furrowed brow relax for a moment.

After placing the clean soup bowl on the table, Ralph stood up, straightened his clothes, and put on his top hat.

"The body from last night was disposed of by the church. You performed the autopsy, and according to them, it appears to be a newly born lich. Don't be too surprised; the supernatural isn't actually that scary. Just keep your distance and consult with professionals whenever possible. I've spoken with my superiors and arranged for you to take leave to adjust your mindset. You can officially start working at the office the day after tomorrow."

"I understand."

It's not that scary?

You can't even read a single piece of paper.

After seeing Ralph off, Lyle looked at the letter again.

Is it number 13 on 7th Street?

Lyle definitely wanted to go and see it; he didn't want to experience the same detached feeling that Ralph had, as if a treasure had slipped through his fingers.

What kind of person are you?

Andre College.

Chapter Seven: Thoughtful Service from the "Ghost"

Lyle didn't emerge from his cabin until the owls began to sing and the sunlight faded away.

He looked around from behind the door. There were no residents he might run into, no patrolling sheriffs. It was safe.

Although he was instructed to act discreetly, Lyle looked at his plague doctor uniform. Wandering around in such at night, let alone others, even he himself felt uneasy. Coupled with the darkness of the night, Lyle walking on the street felt like he was in a haunted house, the kind of haunted he was.

Lyle had to be careful around everyone he saw, partly to avoid startling them, and partly to avoid the sheriff's presence if he screamed. He certainly didn't want to be reported to the sheriff's office a day early, seemingly kidnapped. If he were to accidentally run into Ralph, it would be a stain on his reputation for life.

Therefore, Lyle had to wander through hidden alleys, where the light on the main street cast his long shadow, like the protagonist of a bizarre horror novel.

Fortunately, life is not a work of art.

On his way to his destination, Lyle only encountered a few small cats and dogs.

This is probably number thirteen on seventh street.

Lyle lit his oil lamp and looked at the contents of the letter in the light.

At that time, there were no prominent street signs. All that could be remembered were a few landmark buildings. The most noticeable one on Seventh Street was a bakery on the main street. The reason was that its sign read "Brook Bookstore," and it sold bread. Perhaps it changed its business midway and forgot to renovate.

Walking along Seventh Street, counting to the thirteenth lot is not difficult; each lot's owner uses distinctive decorations to demarcate their boundaries.

Night had fallen, and the chill in the air had become much heavier.

Lyle took a deep breath toward his destination.

Countless stones stood before Lyle, welcoming him like an opera house packed with audience members.

Lyle certainly wouldn't feel joy; this was a tombstone.

As Lyle followed the pebbly path, all he could hear was his own heartbeat and breathing.

He carefully considered every step he took, making sure not to disturb anyone "sleeping" there.

After walking for about ten minutes, he still couldn't see the location that might be Andre Academy.

Lyle's breath began to frost over, unaware that the temperature around him had dropped by more than ten degrees. He also didn't notice that his legs under his coat were gradually trembling, and that his body was beginning to hunch over, as if he were carrying a heavy load.

He only noticed the sound.

A voice kept whispering in his ear, appearing in his mind at some unknown time. At first, it was faint, like an illusion, then it gradually became clearer. It was a woman's voice, but the chilling feeling lingered for a long time, as if her words carried warmth.

The voice came right behind Lyle's ear. It had been murmuring all the way, first listlessly, then gradually becoming urgent, as if something was driving it. It had to hurry and convey its words to Lyle, but the indistinct words could not express the meaning. Instead, the wailing female voice intensified Lyle's fear.

Lyle felt he had encountered something "dirty," and just as he was debating whether to continue, the pleading reached its climax. It was as if, after a certain turning point, the voice became softer, as if the danger was receding.

Lyle stopped in his tracks. The sounds behind him had ceased. But Lyle felt no reassurance; it was as if he couldn't hear anything at all, only a deathly silence around him.

Lyle saw a vision; he felt as if he were standing on the edge of a cliff, with hell just one step away.

He had no choice, or rather, no choice at all, because while he was struggling with whether to take the risk, that voice returned.

It was closer than ever before, so close that it felt as if she were whispering in my ear, and I could feel the wind she exhaled as she spoke, like snowflakes hitting my ear.

"Look back."

Lyle finally understood what she meant, but that didn't mean he intended to do it.

However, his convulsing body did not hear his thoughts; his body moved like a puppet, rotating and turning in sync with his head.

He saw her.

It doesn't have a terrifying or repulsive appearance; in fact, it could even be described as beautiful. However, it is misty, like a beautiful silhouette created by the masterful hand of nature.

Perhaps this is the legendary ghost?

That was probably the last strange thing Lyle saw.

Those hazy hands cupped Lyle's face.

Click.

It wasn't the sound of a broken spine.

But Lyle's cheeks began to freeze, and just when he thought he was going to freeze to death.

She showed off her "kiss".

Pain, accompanied by fear, caused nerves numbed by the cold to become active, desperately transmitting pain signals to the brain. The pain, exceeding even the fear, seemed to be threatening to burst Lyle's brain.

Why am I still lucid? Lyle thought that fainting would be the end of it all, and even death would be a kind of happiness at this moment.

His thoughts began to wander, but the pain remained clear; it was a strange feeling, as if his body was both confused and awake at the same time.