Chapter 387: The Skeptic |
The graveyard of the Holy City was ancient and decrepit. Tombs on either side had crumbled, their broken mounds of earth exposing rotting coffins within. Bone fragments occasionally spilled from the cracks, skittering across the ground with a dry rattle whenever the wind blew.
Rows of crosses stood like sentinels along the graveyard's perimeter. Desiccated corpses hung from their weather-beaten timbers, flesh picked clean by scavengers, leaving only skeletons held together by threads of sinew. Their dangling leg bones swung in the wind, knocking against each other with a dry, clattering rhythm.
The moment Giles Hunt set foot in the graveyard, he suggested to Fran Parker that they split up. His reasoning was sound: by covering more ground, they would have a better chance of triggering side quests and gathering enough kindling.
Fran, suspecting nothing, agreed readily. Giles watched until Fran's figure vanished into the graveyard's depths, then turned and headed toward the West District of the Holy City.
Ever since entering the instance, he'd been plagued by a strange feeling. The representatives who had joined his team seemed to have become strangers. Their gestures, their manner of speaking—nothing had overtly changed, yet he couldn't shake the feeling that a great many of them were not quite right.
Was their behavior too theatrical? Their logic too muddled? Or were their thoughts just too sluggish, constantly meandering around irrelevant points? He couldn't put his finger on any specific detail. It was more of an intuitive sense of dissonance, like waking up one day to see a familiar face, only to be struck by a sudden memory of eerie tales about "Pseudo-humans."
Giles suspected some kind of change had come over the representatives. Even if he was just being paranoid, they were absolutely hiding something. Were none of them truly heretics? And did they really not know the whereabouts of the [Fallen Savior] card?
After turning it over in his mind, Giles realized he didn't know who to trust. Analyzing them one by one, only the woman named Julie Margaret seemed remotely reliable.
This representative hailed from Maple Leaf County. Before entering the Weird Game, she had been a sociologist of considerable renown. For the past five years, however, she had lived under an assumed name, dedicated to coordinating the various departments of the Weird Investigation Bureau and analyzing public opinion on the forums. If even she was compromised, then there was truly no one he could trust among the other four.
"Oh?" The woman's voice came back, tinged with a perfectly measured confusion. "What kind of clues? Is it necessary to meet in person? Can't you just tell me now? If it's a physical clue, perhaps we could call another meeting and have everyone examine it together."
"It's not," Giles replied, taking a deep breath before letting it out slowly. His voice was grim. "I think something is wrong with some of the others. They may have fallen victim to one of the instance's mechanics without realizing it, or perhaps to another player's scheme."
She chuckled. "Sir, you're being a little paranoid. We're all top-ranked players. What kind of instance, or what player, could possibly manipulate us so subtly that we'd fall into their trap without even realizing it?"
"What if that person was Fu Jue?" Giles countered, glancing up at the sky. The sunless, orange-yellow expanse above looked like a shoddily constructed stage backdrop.
He and the other representatives were actors on this stage, while someone else watched coldly from behind the curtain. A dark tide churned in the shadows, and he had no idea when the final curtain would fall.
Silence stretched for half a minute before the woman's voice returned, heavy with thought. "You think Fu Jue isn't dead, too?"
"'Too'?" Giles seized on the word, a single eyebrow arching.
"I've been thinking the same thing," the woman admitted. "He's Fu Jue. How could he possibly die in a place like this?"
She paused, then sighed. "Unfortunately, I have no proof, so it's not something I could bring up in front of the others."
"Exactly. There's no proof he's alive, but by the same token, there's no proof he's dead..." Giles murmured, his eyes narrowing. "So, don't you find their reactions odd?
"They accepted that Fu Jue was dead without the slightest hesitation, and when I suggested an alternative, they bent over backwards to shoot it down."
"It is strange..." she conceded. "Are you suggesting...?"
"I suspect some of them are being controlled by Fu Jue."
"Controlled?"
Giles explained, "Fu Jue was the one who told us about the [Fallen Savior] identity card's effect. It's never been used, so who knows if he was telling the truth? I refuse to believe a card ranked that high has an effect as simple as 'resurrecting one dead person'."
"I understand what you're getting at," the woman said, her tone growing serious. "I agree, we need to meet. Where are you? I'll come find you."
Giles glanced into the distance. The streets were teeming with people, priests and believers bustling to and fro. Some clutched glass jars, while others carried crosses on their backs, all seeming to be part of the opening of some grand ceremony.
He watched in silence for a moment before replying coolly, "We'll meet in the North District."
...
In the North District, Asakura Yuko and Vader walked side by side down the street, weaving their way through the crowd.
This part of the city was cleaner than the East District overall. Yellow-green wastewater flowed placidly in the drainage ditches lining the road, and the men, women, and children walking the streets were all dressed in tidy cloth robes.
They formed a long, serpentine queue before two priests, yet their eyes were just as vacant as those in the East District, revealing a deep-seated fear and bewilderment. Their movements were stiff, like those of the walking dead.
The priests held transparent jars filled with chunks of flesh, handing a dagger to each believer who reached the front of the line. Slices of flesh and blood dropped into the jars, coalescing into a single, writhing ball of meat.
Seeing this, Vader muttered under his breath, "That's not right. The people sharing the Holy Lord's authority are in the East District. Why do believers from other places have to donate, too? Theirs is just ordinary flesh—what's the use of it?"
Asakura Yuko stared at the scene, the same question taking root in her mind. The effect of her [Taboo Scholar] card was constantly active, and she could hear innumerable wails and sobs, a chaotic tide of misery surging in the depths of her consciousness.
"It hurts, it hurts so much... So much blood... I'm going to die, I'm going to die..."
"My mother is dying... *sob*... She can't donate anymore, she's nothing but bones..."
"I'm so scared... I don't want to die... Will the Holy Lord really save us?"
As the voices grew louder, horrific, bloody images began to flash before Asakura Yuko's eyes. Skeletons stripped of flesh stood around her like a forest of bone, while blood and pus rained down. A faceless child sat on the ground, howling, its eyeballs having popped out to roll aimlessly in the dirt and gravel.
As if sensing her gaze, the eyeballs swiveled toward her. The skeletons, too, turned their heads with a stiff, grating motion, fixing their empty sockets on her face as bony arms reached out to grab her.
Unwilling to watch any longer, she took out a pen and paper and began to write: [The North District of the Holy City is inhabited by believers wealthier than those in the East District. However, under the rule of the Holy Lord and his priests, the distinction between rich and poor has been all but erased. All are required to participate in the donation, even if it costs them their lives...]
Vader suddenly tapped her on the shoulder. "Yuko," he suggested, "why don't you grab another believer and ask what's going on? I have a strong feeling this donation drive isn't a regular event. Look at them—none of them have any old scars..."
Asakura Yuko set down her pen and observed the queue of believers. The robes of those who had just finished their "donation" were soaked through with blood, their wounds gaping and raw. Unlike the believers in the East District, their injuries didn't heal on their own. They did not bear the Holy Lord's authority, and thus possessed no regenerative abilities. A few had already collapsed on the roadside from excessive blood loss. If they had made such donations before, they would surely bear the scars.
Asakura Yuko adjusted her glasses. "Why me?" she asked. "If I recall correctly, you're the one who described yourself as the combat specialist."
"Because you already took a believer hostage yesterday," Vader said with a shrug and a wide grin. "You've already got a rap sheet, so to speak. Who knows what kind of trouble this might stir up? Better to contain the risk to one person than for both of us to get flagged, right?"
His logic was sound, in a way, but to state it so bluntly, with such shameless selfishness, was startling. Asakura Yuko couldn't help but shoot him a look. Without another word, she left him, headed for a blind spot at the corner of the block, grabbed a believer who lay unconscious on the ground, and slapped him awake.
"Hello, sorry to bother you," she began, not intending to follow Vader's crude suggestion of using force. She kept her tone polite and patient. "The donations used to be just an East District affair. Why do they suddenly need our flesh and blood today? I arrived a bit late and must have missed the announcement. Could you tell me what's happened?"
In response, a look of terror and loathing spread across the believer's face. He began to mutter, "You... you don't know? You're a heretic..."
Asakura Yuko let out a soft sigh. With a flick of her wrist, she drew a short blade and pressed it to the believer's throat. "Alright," she said. "Now, you can answer my question."
...
In the East District, Giles sat perched on a rooftop, observing the goings-on in the north.
Fu Jue had been the one to provide the Teaming Rings, and Giles couldn't be certain they didn't have some hidden function for eavesdropping or tracking. At the same time, he wasn't entirely convinced Julie was trustworthy either.
His earlier conversation through the ring had been a deliberate probe. He had no intention of actually going to the North District for now; after their talk, he had purposely left his Teaming Ring behind in the West District.
The minutes ticked by. When he judged enough time had passed, Giles pulled out a handful of items labeled [Hermes' Eye (Right Eye)] and activated their effect.
[Name: Hermes' Eye (Right Eye)]
[Type: Item]
[Effect: ① After placing a Left Eye in a location, you can see what the Left Eye sees through the Right Eye.
② During transmission, it can significantly lower the alertness and perception of nearby players.]
[Note: The gods are all-knowing. So says Hermes.]
The previous night, he had gone out exploring, planting a [Hermes' Eye (Left Eye)] in a high spot everywhere he went. He had no idea how many of them had survived the night's tide of fleshy growths, but it should still be enough to get a general sense of the activity in each district.
The image reflected in the Right Eye showed nothing out of the ordinary. Right on cue, Julie's figure appeared in the North District. She scanned her surroundings, a worried expression on her face. Giles felt a measure of relief. There were still countless hidden dangers he couldn't account for, but if he let fear paralyze him, he'd never accomplish anything of importance.
He leaped from the rooftop, darting through the narrow alleyways. A rough map of the Holy City was taking shape in his mind; he had a good sense of direction and quickly arrived at Julie's location.
The woman's tall silhouette stood at the base of a low wall, casting a long, slender shadow against its pale gray surface. She turned her head at the sound of his footsteps, her brow smoothing slightly. "You're finally here," she said. "I was starting to worry you'd run into trouble."
"I took the long way precisely because I was worried about running into trouble," Giles replied with a touch of humor, his gaze landing on the simple white ring on her right pinky finger. "Let's take off our Teaming Rings first. Can't be too careful with anything Fu Jue gives you."
The woman complied without hesitation, slipping the ring off and tossing it into a corner. "I'm more cautious than you give me credit for," she said with a laugh. "The very day I received this ring, I had it inspected by the materials lab at my bureau's branch office."
"That's good to hear," Giles said, but then paused, his mind faltering for a moment. "Still, this is Fu Jue we're talking about. Who knows what kind of hidden tricks he might have up his sleeve."
He didn't understand how he'd ended up an enemy of Fu Jue. He used to admire the man so deeply, had even shared an instance with him. Where had this sudden animosity and hatred come from?
His memory of it was a blur. The moment he tried to grasp the details, they dissolved like iridescent soap bubbles. An instant later, he couldn't even recall the flicker of confusion he'd just felt.
He pressed his aching temples and continued speaking, pushing the thought aside. "Let's head to the graveyard. We mentioned the North District on the rings earlier. If my suspicions are correct, it's likely no longer safe there."
"I agree. That was my assessment as well," the woman said with a smile.
The pair headed straight for the graveyard. The crowds around them began to thin, and a biting wind kicked up, sending bone fragments clattering to the ground.
The endless field of graves stretched before them like a mountain range. From the pitch-black hollows of the tombs, countless eyes seemed to watch, spying on the passing humans with malevolent intent.
The woman led the way, with Giles half a step behind, his boots crunching on the bone fragments littering the ground.
The moment he stepped past a stone wall carved with the effigy of a god, a sudden cold seized him. The temperature plummeted, and a chill spread from the center of his chest out to his limbs. His body heat leached away as if he'd been plunged into an ice cellar, and even his vision grew blurry, as though coated in a thick layer of frost.
A white shadow suddenly flashed before his eyes, lunging forward with a ghastly presence. Giles scrambled back and focused his gaze. It was a living corpse, its body wrapped in burial shrouds. Through the gaps in the bandages, a pair of scarlet eyes fixed on him, burning with greed and desire.
Danger! Giles deftly pulled up his item menu. All of his weapon-class items were sealed. The only thing he could draw out was a strand of silvery-white spider silk. The tooltip indicated it could be used to control thoughts and restrict movement.
It was undoubtedly a powerful and exceedingly rare item, its effectiveness beyond question. But it was also sinister, and Giles had never risked using it before. Still... could an item designed to be used against other players actually work on a monster?
The woman kept walking forward, seemingly oblivious to the encroaching danger. More living corpses crawled out from all sides, closing in on the pair. Their claws, slick with corpse oil, extended, and their bodies drew nearer, carrying a rancid stench that turned the stomach.
Giles's eyes were fixed on the back of the woman's head just ahead. Suddenly, he realized this was a premeditated trap.
Death traps didn't just trigger without a reason. He had passed through this area before without incident; it made no sense that he would walk into a crisis simply by retracing his steps.
Of course. He'd been deceived. Julie was almost certainly one of Fu Jue's people... Because he had revealed his suspicions about Fu Jue, she had lured him here to be silenced for good.
Giles slammed his foot down and shot backward, whipping the strand of spider silk toward the center of the woman's back. As if expecting the attack, she sidestepped it and, with a flick of her wrist, sent a black veil unfurling from her sleeve toward his face.
In that single second, all pretense vanished. Giles ducked under the veil and manipulated the silk to constrict around the woman's neck. In a fleeting glance, he saw her savage expression and the venomous hatred that burned in her eyes, and a profound chill settled deep in his soul.
Fu Jue and Julie were working together to kill him. He couldn't possibly defeat them both, especially since they had somehow managed to gain control over the monsters in this instance... What in the world was he going to do?