There seemed to be nothing but a pile of jagged rocks and dry branches. Yet after observing closely for a few seconds, Lynch finally spotted something inside.
Several lizards sprawled across the rubble, almost motionless, their colors blended perfectly with the rocks.
The surrounding patrons had their eyes glued to these sluggish creatures, their gazes burning with fanaticism.
“What are they doing? Selling lizards?”
“What do you think?” Officer Natalie’s lips curled, her tone laced with playful amusement.
The crazed looks and frantic shouting around him reminded Lynch of the racetracks in his previous life. He remarked thoughtfully, “Lizard betting?”
“Tch.” Officer Natalie curled her lip in disappointment. “It really is lizard betting. Quite a complicated method, too. I won't bother warning you not to participate—I have full faith in you.”
Lynch nodded. It seemed the lady officer had good judgment after all.
“After all, you have no money to gamble anyway.”
Why did this woman suddenly turn to insults? And hitting right where it hurt, no less.
“Linda, bring him a beer.”
The officer waved toward the counter. Soon after, another bartender in men’s attire emerged carrying a mug of beer.
“He’s with me. Keep an eye on him for a moment.” Natalie patted Lynch on the shoulder.
“Good afternoon, Officer Angel. Bringing in a newcomer?”
Her voice drew the attention of several nearby drinkers, and a few raised their glasses in greeting.
“Natalie, I heard you broke up a cultist sacrifice last night. This kid is the survivor? Wonder how many days he’s got left. Heh-heh, kid, did you piss your pants last night? Don't worry, this is only the beginning! Hahahaha!”
A short, bearded man, already flushed red from drinking, pointed at Lynch and burst into hearty laughter.
What utter nonsense. Drunken fools truly were everywhere.
Lynch sighed inwardly, not bothering to lower himself to a drunkard's level.
Yet almost immediately, he felt Natalie’s hand on his shoulder suddenly tighten, gripping hard enough to make his shoulder ache. Looking up, he saw Officer Natalie’s brow furrow with a dark scowl.
Snatching the beer mug Lynch was about to pick up, she dumped the entire drink right over the bearded man's head.
Drenched in beer with the mug practically dripping onto his face, the bearded man stood stunned, not yet sober enough to process it. Natalie stepped forward, seized him by the collar, pointed right in his face, and said with a dark expression:
“If you can’t keep your mouth shut, find some other survivor to mock. Lynch is a friend I brought here. Regardless of how many days he has left, you don't get to make fun of him. Now apologize to him.”
“Are you insane, Natalie? Are you trying to pick a fight?” The bearded man gradually came to his senses, his eyes widening. “I didn't say anything wrong! What's your problem?”
“I don't care whether you think you're right or wrong. Lynch is a comrade who fought alongside me, not a burden. If you dare mock him like that, you're going to apologize today, or I’ll make you pay for it.”
Standing to the side, Lynch felt a warm surge in his chest. Seeing the bearded man's furious glare, he also worried a bit for Natalie, so he rubbed his nose and said, “Um... I kind of thought that beer was meant for me.”
“You shut up too,” Officer Natalie snapped without looking back, glaring coldly into the bearded man’s eyes.
The bearded man’s face flushed red then paled white, his expression twisting menacingly several times. Yet Officer Natalie kept a firm grip on his collar, her gaze refusing to yield an inch.
“Fine, fine, I apologize!” The bearded man finally shifted his gaze away, grumbling sullenly, “How was I supposed to know you consider him a comrade?”
“Hmph.” Only then did Officer Natalie release him, stepping back to Lynch’s side. “I’m going to check if that person is free. Don’t wander off.”
“Got it. I'll stay right here.” Lynch gestured vaguely in the air. “Thanks, comrade. But about the beer, could we maybe...”
“Drink what? Deal with it.” Officer Natalie let out a snort of laughter, but quickly put on a stern face again and strode away in annoyance, leaving Lynch alone by the bar.
Tsk, what a fiery temper.
“Hahahaha! Poor kid. Pretty Linda, get him another glass—it’s on me!” someone nearby shouted with a booming laugh. “Too bad, Truen! Natalie didn't beat the crap out of your stupid face!”
“As if I'm afraid of her! I wasn't even afraid when her father was alive!” The bearded man, far from embarrassed, shook his hair and beard like a drenched dog and said with a chuckle, “Kid, my bad. I was just joking around. But you're pretty impressive—first time I've ever seen that wild she-gorilla get so worked up on behalf of an ordinary person. What in the world did you do?”
“Heh-heh, thanks, pal. You’re actually not half bad.”
Lynch raised his glass to the bystander who treated him, finally tasting beer in this world. It had a sharper bite than the beer from his previous life, though not quite as delicious as he had imagined. Still, he downed half the mug in one go, treating it as his lunch. But bearded guy, did you just call her a she-gorilla? Lynch raised an eyebrow, grinning as he announced in a clear, loud voice:
“Honestly, I didn't do much. Just identified a mystery relic in a single second, spotted the source of mystery with one glance, delved straight into the uncontrolled relic, read its deep memories in forty-five minutes, and casually raised hell inside. Nothing to write home about, really.”
His delivery was thoroughly exaggerated. Not just the bearded man, but the entire surrounding crowd froze for an instant before bursting into raucous laughter. Truen, the bearded man, laughed the loudest:
“Hahahahaha! You sure know how to brag! Nice, I like you! Truth be told, I'm actually Emperor Rudolph, out in plain clothes today just for fun! Haha!”
“Sigh. I'm telling the plain truth, so why won't anyone believe me?”
“Hahaha! If you really pulled that off, I’d drop to my knees right now and lick your boots clean!” The bearded man laughed so hard he wiped his wet beard. “Fine, keep your secrets! Haha, no worries. Pretty lady Linda, fill his mug again! His jokes are great, my treat!”
For a moment, the bar was filled with merry, lively air, with most people turning their attention away from the glass dome and onto Lynch. But then, several chimes rang from behind the counter, and the cluster of drinkers instantly leaned back over the bar, their eyes locked on the lizards inside the glass dome, not paying Lynch any further heed.
Lynch shrugged, took the beer handed to him by the pretty female bartender, and raised the mug to her. “Thanks. Is this place a stronghold for your Watchers?”
“Mhm.” The bartender, Linda, wiped a glass by the counter. “You should say their Watchers. We ordinary folks are just peripheral members.”
“Close enough in my book. But you folks really are ordinary people? I thought everyone here would be Soul Severers.”
Linda rolled her eyes at him. “Where would so many Soul Severers come from? Most people here are just ordinary folks who survived mysterious events. Once you come into contact with a mysterious event, it's very easy to establish a connection with mystery, and you can never return to a normal life. The survivors with a bit of ability choose to become mystery hunters, occasionally taking less dangerous commissions from the Watchers. It works out as a win-win: if an actually dangerous mysterious event crops up, there's a chance to handle it nearby. As for survivors without abilities, they attach themselves to the Watchers to do clerical work—like us. We just take it one day at a time.”
“How can you say you don't have ability? I bet those guys can’t wipe glasses as fast or clean as you. Everyone has their own strengths.”
“Pfft, flattering me won’t work. I'm not buying you a drink.” Linda smiled and gave him a playful glare. “Still, there are some Soul Severers among them. Truen, the bearded guy who picked a fight with Natalie, is one of them. I saw you look upset earlier when he called Natalie that name. Be careful—he’s a level two Soul Severer with authority. Don’t go provoking him.”
“Yeah, thanks for the heads-up. I'm someone who never looks for trouble.”
In fact, Lynch had already received a reminder from the feminine voice: there were at least five Soul Severers in the bar. In particular, one was stroking a crystal ball with rapt focus, another had their head down, hand hesitating above tarot cards, and a third knelt on one knee before the counter with interlocked fingers pressed against their forehead, muttering incantations. It looked like they were divining... wait?
Looking up at the blackboard overhead, and then back at these three Soul Severers putting on their bizarre display, could they be divining the outcome of the betting game to cheat?
“It doesn't count as cheating. Foreseeing with authority is permitted from the start—it's part of placing a bet,” Linda explained. “Their wagers just aren't made public; they're blind bets. Ah, it's about to start. The fifteen-minute preparation window is up.”
The bar had fallen into silence, and even Linda subconsciously lowered her voice.
The three diviners handed in slips of paper one after another, the one playing with tarot cards having modified their choices twice.
A bartender walked around the counter holding a glass test tube.
Lynch got a clear look. Trapped inside the test tube was a dense swarm of... mosquitoes.
Chameleons. Mosquitoes. Lynch’s expression turned somewhat odd as he realized what these people were betting on.
“Yep, twenty mosquitoes in total, and seven lizards inside. You bet on the first three lizards to catch a mosquito, and how many each of those three will catch. We have special sensor equipment to count the remaining mosquitoes inside, so there won’t be mistakes. It's actually similar to horse racing, just without needing massive tracks and riders. And it’s not really suited for ordinary people—I’d never seen anything like it back in the normal world.”
What ordinary person would play such a bizarre game anyway? No one with half a brain would touch this. At least betting on horses sounded better than betting on mosquitoes.
While Lynch was grumbling internally, the bartender opened a small hole in the glass dome and inserted the test tube, though the seal on the tube remained closed for now.
“Once it begins, anyone can use their authority to influence the game until the results are revealed. It all comes down to who has greater skill.”
Lynch hissed under his breath. He felt as though he had stepped into a movie about crooked gamblers, watching cardsharps showing off their respective tricks. “Then is this supposed to be a competition between the lizards, or a competition between the Soul Severers outside?”
“When money is on the line, does it really make any difference whether it's people or lizards competing?” Linda smiled. “That's what the boss here says.”
Lynch paused. Chewing on those words, a slow smile crept onto his face. “Fair point. But if they can interfere, what happens to the earlier divinations?”
“If a divination can’t account for their interference, what kind of divination is it?”
That made so much sense he couldn't refute it at all.
Someone patted him on the shoulder from behind. Turning around, he saw Officer Natalie had returned.
“Come with me. He’s free now. How did it go? Nothing happened, right?”
“Nothing much,” Lynch replied with a quirky smile. “Mr. Truen even bought me a drink just now. I told him about what happened last night, and he praised me for my storytelling.”
“Hahaha! That's right, Natalie! Your friend here isn't bad—he brags even better than I do! Just now, he claimed he identified a mystery relic in one second and read its deep memories in forty-five minutes! Even I couldn't pull that off, hahaha...”
“He indeed wasn't entirely accurate. To be precise, it was forty-three minutes and fifty seconds,” Officer Natalie stated with a serious nod. “I've already reported the situation to Victor, and I'm about to take him to see Victor now. Let's go, Lynch. I have somewhere else to take you afterward.”
The laughter in the bar died instantly. Everyone’s gaze darted back and forth between the bearded Truen and Lynch.
Truen’s mouth hung agape as he stared dumbly at Lynch and Natalie. A strangled gurgle came from his throat; he wanted to say something, but not a single word came out as his face flushed deeper and deeper red.
“I told you I was speaking the truth. Why wouldn't you believe me? In that case, Your Majesty Emperor Rudolph II, I shall take my leave. Thank you for the beer.”
With that, Lynch tipped his top hat, bowed, and strode away behind Officer Natalie.
The moment they walked away, an uproar of booming laughter erupted behind them, echoing for a long time.
Rate on N.U.
