The Strange Adventures of Hearn the Believer

Faced with the believer's silence, Pandora suddenly asked him a seemingly unrelated question, but her words carried a hidden meaning.

It was this seemingly unrelated yet subtly suggestive remark that ended the believer's silence.

He spoke in a deep voice and gave his answer.

"That drop of rain will never exist again, and that sea will no longer be the same sea it was in the first place."

……

Chapter 249 Good Morning, Good Afternoon, Good Night (Prologue)

If we never meet again, good morning, good afternoon, and good night.

"..."

On the speeding iron dragon, the silver-haired woman read this while seated. Her delicate eyebrows furrowed slightly, and her expression became somewhat unnatural. However, after a moment, she relaxed and revealed a slight bitter smile.

The strange greeting originated from a letter in the woman's hand, with elegant handwriting on the cold-colored paper.

There was no one else in the carriage, and the only sound was the rumble of the train speeding by; the environment was undeniably serene.

In such a quiet and pleasant environment, the woman was able to calm herself down and continue reading with focused attention.

[Respectfully submitted by my kind aunt...]

"..."

The woman's reading came to an abrupt halt once again. This time, she put down the letter, casually rubbed her temples, and then, rather than bracing herself, mentally prepared herself before picking up the unfinished task at hand.

[...Upon first hearing of Your Majesty's personal arrival, my daughter was greatly terrified and could not sleep at night, filled with anxiety, suspecting that my misdeeds had been exposed and that officials from above had come to arrest me...]

"..."

What strange things has this girl learned since she ran away?

Her hand holding the letter trembled slightly, her pupils dilated in shock, and she turned her head three times in bewilderment. In the end, she could only calm herself down, composed herself, and continue reading the letter.

Alright, alright, I'm not joking anymore, dear Aunt. To be honest, when I received your letter two weeks ago informing me of your intention to visit me privately, I was disillusioned.

We're in the same boat; I'm also feeling disillusioned.

Upon seeing this, the woman's lips trembled several times, but in the end, she didn't utter those words aloud.

There's a sense of despair, as if the world will end tomorrow.

That's too much.

However, given that you knowingly chose to visit privately, the situation must have become so serious that it forced you to take such a risk. I am curious, regretful, and anxious about this, and I am happy to offer my help.

In a sense, that is indeed true...

[So, I understand. You are embarking on a short, silent, secret journey to a chaotic place you've never been before, alone, strapped for cash, disguised as a white dragon...]

White dragonfish?

Ideally, all of this should be settled within a single business day. As you read this letter, you'll likely find yourself aboard a special express train arriving at dawn. While it may seem like a formality, the shift to trains as the primary mode of transportation here only began two months ago.

Actually, the train is quite nice too...

To maintain secrecy and avoid any potential disputes, please forgive me for not being able to accompany you on this journey. In fact, I have arranged for a little-known figure to assist you as your guide, and I swear on my surname, Sariel, that he is absolutely reliable, except for his lack of drive and suicidal tendencies.

"..."

The specific address is written at the end of the letter. The key is hidden in the leaves of the second bird of paradise plant on the third floor from the left outside the door. So, my dear aunt, I once again sincerely wish you a pleasant journey.

—Respectfully presented by your runaway niece, Iota Sariel

hiss……

so cold...

The girl, with her slightly wavy, shoulder-length hair and a strangely disheveled look, couldn't help but shiver. She stood by the dark car, tightened the collar of her black tie, and habitually dusted off her equally black suit jacket. She looked up at the leaden sky and began to regret not wearing enough warm clothing under her white shirt.

Just before the leaden sky, moistened by the sea breeze, was shrouded in misty rain, the black-haired girl carefully opened a black umbrella.

Dominique Antofil, biological/psychological female, 1798 years old, unmarried, occupationally speaking, a freelancer, more accurately a driver for now, and, well, a devil.

In this sinful city shrouded in sea fog, there are countless little devils like her who are new to the place.

Dominic was born in the border region of Ninja Prison, which is close to the bottomless abyss. It was a small, rural town, a true 108th-tier city. In order to get rid of the sense of despair that he could see the end from the beginning, Dominic, who was 1797 years old, decided to leave his hometown and come to the bustling big city to try his luck.

Her first stop after leaving home wasn't here, but rather Malsham, the eternal center of the Nine Hells. She went there partly because it was relatively close to her hometown, and partly because she lacked practical experience and was unrealistic. Eternity also means the dust has settled, and obviously, a settled place didn't offer any opportunities for a fledgling little devil like her. So, after being rebuffed, she took advantage of her drunkenness and stubbornness and exiled herself to the other side of the Nine Hells, or more precisely, to Gomorrah, the former bridgehead of the war between Hell and Heaven, now a sinful city rife with undercurrents and a mixed bag of people.

Gomorrah, Gomorrah...

There's a saying that circulates between two worlds that describes this place like this—

Heaven looks down on them, and hell despises them.

It is a place where the sewers of the two worlds merge and flow into the sea, a ghostly place where the great river flows eastward and eventually empties into the sea.

With such a reputation for having a sewer outlet leading to the sea, one shouldn't expect the local people to be particularly honest and simple.

Dominic still remembers a sentence she heard from a group of thugs who didn't believe in the end and planned to make a quick buck to achieve their Soul Coin freedom ahead of time during the six months she was trying her luck in Marshem.

"If things go wrong, we can always go back to Gomorrah."

"..."

Although later reports indicated that the thugs who had gone too far were predictably covered in organic paint on the exterior walls of Marshem, she, having left beforehand and severed ties, was indeed alone when she arrived in Gomorrah.

Recalling the days of fear and trepidation he experienced when he arrived in Gomorrah, especially after the public media reported on the unfortunate fate of those who defied the heavens, Dominic was filled with anxiety, fearing that he hadn't severed all ties and would be arrested by the Marshambah sent judges, executed in the autumn, and turn into paint to join the heroes on the outer wall.

But that was two months ago.

Dominic believes in adventures and miracles.

Two months ago, she fled to Gomorrah alone, carrying a potentially dangerous old debt, fueled by alcohol and stubbornness. Through a series of coincidences, she was forced into a chaos far more intense than the old debt, but managed to escape unscathed.

As a bonus of being a survivor, she made several friends who were not very close but could be considered life-or-death friends. Thanks to the connections of those friends, the old debts she had been owed were finally put aside.

Although none of the parties involved said it explicitly, she wasn't stupid and knew to understand the implication.

Dominique's life now seems to be on track. She has a car, a job, and rents a small apartment in the suburbs near the bay. She picks up and drops off passengers every now and then, on call 24 hours a day. She seems to have no days off, but in reality, she's on vacation whenever there's no business, provided she's available on call. Her monthly income is decent enough to support her daily expenses in the city, but if she wants to go any further, she'll have to find another way.

Having built such a foundation in just two months, Dominique admits she doesn't have any further plans for the time being. Part of her personality is the "go with the flow" type, perhaps...

In other words, today is a workday.

Dominic glanced at her watch; it was 6:12 a.m., a dreary time when the nightclub had just ended and the birds had just stopped crowing. If she could, Dominic really wanted to go back to her small apartment and get some sleep, but making a living forced her to be available at any time. She dressed herself up neatly, professionally, and dutifully, and parked her car outside the Gomorrah train station to wait for her distinguished guest, and also to hold an umbrella for him to keep him from the sea mist and drizzle.

Distinguished guest...

Well, to be honest, after working as a driver for almost two months and making a total of 27 trips, Dominic more or less understands that he is still doing a dirty job that puts his head in the sand, even worse than the time he accidentally wandered into a gang's den.

Well, how should I put it?

First of all, truly important figures who visit Gomorrah, this border prison city, travel on routes that are far beyond the reach of a nobody like her. As for public transportation like trains, to be honest—she herself came to Gomorrah by train.

In short, trains as a form of transportation give people a feeling of... a mixed bag.

It was this mixed bag of people that fostered Dominic's subtle sense of crisis.

Who am I? Where am I? Why am I driving? And who am I picking up and dropping off?

Dominic could only play dumb when faced with questions like these.

Being a driver, especially a private driver, is a gray area, particularly in this city.

Dominic is aware of this.

Oh, we've arrived.

While her thoughts were wandering, Dominic looked up and saw a figure walking out of the station exit. She pulled a photo from her sleeve, compared it to the image from a distance for a moment, and after confirming that it was the right person, burned it to ashes. Then she quickly composed herself and went to meet the person.

……

Chapter 250 Good Morning, Good Afternoon, Good Night (Part 1)

"This city is the confluence of two worlds... the estuary, a bridgehead where bloody battles once took place, where every great monarch left their mark. In other words, Gomorrah has seven districts."

The black minivan cut through the rain and fog, traveling through the streets and alleys of Gomorrah Bay. The morning traffic was manageable and not too disruptive.

Dominic rested his hands on the steering wheel, explaining things to the passengers in the back while carefully observing the road conditions, not daring to be careless in the slightest.

Driving in Gomorrah, you never know what kind of precious thing might fly out of the empty driveway the next second.

Dominic undoubtedly cherishes and is dedicated to his only job.

Meeting the passenger's gaze in the rearview mirror is a basic experience for every driver. Whether it's awkward depends on the psychological state and current mood of both parties. Domi didn't have any particular thoughts on this, after all, the road conditions in Gomorrah are just too unpredictable.

The experience of being swept into a time-space turbulence and riding a bumper roller coaster on the egg roll-shaped central avenue is one I never want to experience again in my life.

Thanks to that terrible driving experience, now every time she drives her car out of the garage, this poor country girl has to offer a heartfelt prayer, so devout it's not like she's a devil, it's like she's shedding feathers...

Of course, some devils also shed fur.

Speaking of country girls...

Dominic glanced at the passenger in the back seat again while checking the rearview mirror, and felt a deep sense of regret.

how to say?

Putting aside the previous passengers, the way this person acted after boarding the bus was very similar to my own when I first arrived in Gomorrah two months ago.

This guest, ever since he boarded the car—

Upon seeing even a glimpse of bizarre and surreal street scenes, they would exclaim with curiosity...

He peered at her through the rearview mirror, trying to find an answer...

They frequently exclaim things like "Wow, that's amazing!"

If I explain something a little more, I get praised like "Miss Domi is so knowledgeable"...

Who exactly is the country girl who just arrived...?

Dominique, a former country girl, sighed for the first time in a long time as she sat behind the steering wheel, feeling a mix of emotions.

Despite having only gained a superficial understanding of common sense through experience, he was sincerely praised as erudite by a newcomer he had just met.

Such an experience might be a precious one for someone who loves to boast, a surge of positive feedback and dopamine, but for Dominique—a somewhat introverted girl—it just made her face burn…

"Miss Domi, Miss Domi, what are those people over there doing?"

The warbler in the back started chirping again, and Dominic had to divert a small portion of his attention to the alleyway on the left side of the avenue she was pointing to...

Click.

After a slight noise, Dominic quickly closed the windows that allowed him to see outside from inside the car—in other words, he darkened the rear windows. Apart from that, the car had excellent sound insulation.

"what?"

"It's nothing. They were just cleaning up the trash from last night's business when they closed up shop in the early morning. Ms. Lily, have you figured out your destination? Saying it's just the north of the Bay Area is a bit too broad."

Dominic skillfully changed the subject, avoiding the scene outside the car window of people dumping parts into the sewer.

After a slight sigh, Dominic regained his composure in the quiet car, put on a professional poker face, sat down at the steering wheel, and returned to work.

The rain and fog outside the window continued, and the windshield wipers made a faint sound. The driver and passenger were silent for a moment.

To be fair, Domi thought she had been a bit nosy, but honestly, she still didn't understand why a girl or lady like her would come to a godforsaken place like Gomorrah Bay all by herself.

She had just mentioned that Gomorrah has seven districts, each corresponding to a projection of the power of one of the seven Lords of Hell. They may not be important, but they cannot be absent.

How the big shots at the top care is none of Domi's business, a little devil like a roadside weed.

But this doesn't prevent her from understanding the established fact that the Bay Area belongs to His Majesty Azazel.

As one of the most powerful and authoritarian devil lords in both Hell and Heaven, Her Majesty has many titles, among which the most widely known is undoubtedly the title of "Queen of Pleasure."

In other words, Gomorrah's Bay area, to put it simply, is a perpetually red-light district...

Thinking of this, Domi couldn't help but glance at the passengers in the back row with sympathy while looking in the rearview mirror, and a feeling of pity and sorrow welled up in his heart.

Heaven has mercy! The person sitting in the back row is a kind-hearted guest, as innocent as a lamb. This was the first impression the other person gave Domi when they first met outside the train station.

Imagine this: on a terrible, foggy, rainy day, in the crisp, windy morning, you're forced to wake up from your warm bed, get up, wash, dress in a suit and tie, and drive a black luxury car to the train station to pick someone up...

No matter how you look at it, this kind of morning is absolutely awful, isn't it?

Just then, the guest you'd been waiting for in the misty rain emerged from the train station, bringing the first ray of light to this utterly dreadful, leaden-gray morning—ah, your long-awaited guest was a beauty in the conventional sense. She had long, flowing, silvery hair, with a single strand braided into a soft plait that cascaded down her back. Her features were delicate, with bright eyes, white teeth, and fair skin. A pair of dark red eyes were hidden behind equally dark red glasses… The guest wore a beige women's trench coat, revealing a very voluptuous figure, curvaceous and slender. Underneath, she wore a pure white cashmere sweater, paired with a soft, knee-length skirt in the same warm color as the sweater, along with matching high boots and stockings…

As the guests jogged out of the train station and stood before the dark luxury business car, Domi had a hallucination of seeing pure white lambs running towards him across the grass.

When the other person calmed his breathing slightly, then gave a shy smile and asked in a low and polite voice if he had come to pick him up, Dominic Antofer felt as if he had encountered his destiny.

Let me reintroduce myself: Dominic Antofil, from the border town of the 1018th line of the Ninth Prison, is female (both biological and psychological), 1798 years old, unmarried, a devil, currently working for a certain lady as a private driver on a contract basis, and bisexual.