The Contact

On the desolate, empty beach, eight creatures with fish heads, human bodies, and webbed limbs strode through the waves, led by a bulky figure.

Crawling onto the sand on all fours, they slowly stood upright beneath the moonlight and ambled across the shore.

Their coarse cloth clothes clung wetly to their skin, which was covered in mucus that glinted cold in the moonlight.

“Ia, ia, Cthulhu, fhtagn.”

The low, husky chanting radiated a cold, bloodthirsty aura. A thick stench of fish spread rapidly as they landed, filling the entire beach with a nauseating reek in an instant.

Splat. Webbed feet stepped onto the dry sand. The bulky leader threw his head back toward the night sky—toward the silver and crimson moons—and released a silent roar. Right behind him, the other eight fish-headed monsters also tilted their heads up, bellowing low into the night.

“Fa, ta, ka...”

The leader abruptly raised both hands, his low voice echoing across the sand:

“Lord of Eternal Slumber...”

“Waiting for thee in dreams...”

The fish-headed figures behind him followed in his footsteps, gradually occupying the beach. The eight monsters automatically formed a ring with their leader at the center, swaying their bodies rhythmically while chanting a repeating series of incomprehensible syllables.

However, Lynch had no time to ponder the question. As their forms came into clearer view, an immense, overwhelming pressure surged forth from them.

Faced with this aura, it felt like a weak beast confronting its ultimate natural predator.

Lynch felt his heart tighten in spasms as waves of terror continuously slammed against his willpower while he lay flat on the sand.

The simple, raw thought consumed his mind—the final struggle of basic survival instinct.

Lynch drew a deep breath, suppressing his instinctive fear, lying motionless against the sand. Breath by breath, his mind quickly regained its composure, the terror subsiding as abruptly as it had appeared.

As his heartbeat gradually slowed, Lynch relaxed his mind—only to suddenly realize a massive problem.

Just as the realization struck him, several shrieks suddenly burst out beside him.

The three young male reporters had turned deathly pale, their blood-curdling screams piercing the night sky.

Lynch congratulated himself secretly. To be safe, he had kept up his Phantasmal Sound technique the entire time, preventing any sound from escaping outward.

However, before a second of relief could pass, he noticed with horror that the three young reporters suddenly scrambled to their feet and bolted out of hiding while screaming—just as had happened in Officer Natalie's memory.

The chanting ceased instantly. All nine Deep Ones turned their gazes toward the reef. As their eyes locked onto the spot, an invisible crushing pressure rapidly enveloped the rocks.

“Hehehe...”

The Deep Ones made no physical movement, but a sinister chuckle rasped from the leader's mouth. By now, the three young men had fled the shadows, exposed under the moonlight, running frantically and aimlessly around the reef.

Lynch couldn't spare a thought for those three anymore. Maya was still beside him, her mouth clamped shut under his hand as he pinned her to the sand. After a couple of struggles, she went limp, shrinking into Lynch's chest, shivering violently with a deadly pale face.

Lynch looked down at the female reporter struggling to suppress her terror. Gritting his teeth, he pulled her tightly into his arms.

【Authority: Concealment, Ability: Presence-Masking】

While concealing his own body, the Concealment authority's ability, Presence-Masking, activated. It granted a stealth effect lasting three seconds, but its success rate depended entirely on the target's trust in Lynch. Lynch wasn't even sure if it would work.

As it turned out, she did this time.

The moment the skill activated, both the female reporter and Lynch vanished simultaneously. No lurkers remained in the shadows.

Without wasting a single second, Lynch hoisted Maya onto his back and sprang into the air. Agile as a cat, he lightly kicked off the protrusions of the rocks, scaling toward the top of the two-story-tall reef.

While Lynch shifted locations, the three young men below suddenly went berserk, inexplicably brawling with each other. Within seconds, two reporters grabbed the third by the hair and slammed his head viciously against the reef. After several heavy blows, his skull was deformed; covered in blood, he twitched violently before curling into a ball, completely lifeless.

Immediately after, the remaining two turned on each other, instantly grappling. They both drew their self-defense knives and plunged them fiercely into one another's bodies—once, twice, relentlessly—until both were covered in bloody holes before collapsing to the ground.

Lynch didn't see any of this. Using those three seconds, he had carried Maya to the top of the reef and slipped around into a recessed hollow behind it, hiding both himself and Maya inside.

Just as they concealed themselves, Maya's form reappeared, while the crunching sound of footsteps on sand echoed from below.

The footsteps drew closer and closer, sounding like a death knell tolling heavily in Lynch's heart.

“To think three little minnows were hiding here. Hehehe, foolish humans, daring to gaze upon the face of the Sons of the Deep Sea.”

The leader's hoarse voice held no emotion whatsoever. Even his chuckle sounded cold as the abyssal depths:

“You guys, search the surroundings. Some minnows like to hide around the reefs; we can't let them trick us.”

“Rrrgh, rrrgh, rrrgh.”

Low growling responses came from below, followed by the commotion of heavy footsteps.

Lynch felt a sharp pain in his arm. Without looking, he knew the female reporter was clutching his arm so tightly her fingernails were nearly sinking into his flesh.

Lynch held his breath in tension, not daring to use any abilities for fear of being detected at such close range. He and Maya crouched tightly inside the hollow, frozen, listening intently to the movement below.

Something slammed heavily against the reef, shaking the rock structure and sending fine sand and gravel cascading down. The massive tremor struck like a blow to their hearts; the female reporter clamped her other hand firmly over her mouth to stop herself from screaming.

Clatter, clatter. Someone was climbing up from below, the sound drawing steadily closer. Maya turned even paler. Lynch gripped his cane tightly, ready to fight for his life at a moment's notice. Fortunately, just before they reached the top, a sudden shriek came from below, followed by the heavy thump of something hitting the ground and a chorus of mocking laughter.

“Why can't I float up here? Curse these damned rotten seaweeds! Checked the top, no minnows hiding there.”

“Is that so? Haha! Humans, I see you! Come out!”

With a loud thud, a rock struck the reef, sending stone fragments flying.

Lynch's eye twitched, while Maya's eyes bulged wide, nearly passing out with her eyes rolling back.

“Alright, seems there were only these three rotten fish.”

The leader's hoarse voice sounded again, and the crunching footsteps slowly drifted away:

“Come back. The contact has arrived. Don't be late—humans have too many rules.”

Phew. Lynch let out a long breath. Looks like they hadn't been discovered.

He was actually just tense rather than truly terrified. His Divine Authority was fully charged now, so theoretically he could easily wipe these creatures out, but activating Divine Authority for just a few Deep Ones felt like overkill. Yet with only his rank two power, fighting them directly meant almost certain death.

In any case, it was better not to be spotted. It was just a pity about those young men.

Sighing inwardly, Lynch motioned for Maya to stay hidden and not move, while he activated his ability and poked his head out to survey the area.

The contact had arrived... Who was it?

Sure enough, a beam of light vibrated in the distance, and behind it, a shadow was slowly walking over.

However, as Lynch stared at the figure behind the light beam, his expression twisted further and further.

A floor-length goose-yellow gown, a feathered lady's hat, and an exquisite folding fan held in her hand.

A slender figure approached with graceful, measured steps.

Miss Valente, wearing a bizarre smile on her lips, walked straight up to the group of fishmen.