I'm Sorry

For a moment, Lynch’s face turned pale and his expression twisted.

He could hardly believe his eyes.

Diana was the contact for this group of Deep Ones?

A heroic noblewoman willing to offer her body as a vessel for an evil god to bring about mutual destruction, an intelligent lady who had fought side by side with him over the past few days, a gentle friend who had been offering him solicitous reminders just moments ago—in the blink of an eye, she had turned into the contact for non-human monsters?

This wasn't like the hillmen. These creatures were ferocious, evil pirates, and associating with them was extremely dangerous.

And even if she really wanted to help the Deep Ones, she could have just told him.

She had been willing to entrust her life to him; what else couldn't she trust him with? He wasn't some pedantic fool who cared for nothing but rigid rules and dogmatic justice. As long as she had a valid reason, wouldn't he help her? Why deceive him, and why use such a method to trick him?

A wave of bitterness welled up in Lynch’s heart. He couldn't say he was truly heartbroken, but he felt a deep sense of frustration and disappointment.

But he quickly realized something was wrong.

“We were together just half an hour ago, and she knew full well I came here ahead of time. Walking over here so openly as their contact—is she stupid, or does she think I am?”

Realizing this, Lynch immediately called out softly into the telepathic conch, but there was no response from the other end.

There's definitely something wrong here.

Lynch quickly calmed down and carefully scrutinized the figure that had walked up to the Deep Ones.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary on the surface, yet Lynch couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. Had he overlooked something?

Beautiful features, exquisite makeup, elegant demeanor, proper attire...

Wait, her attire?

Lynch immediately realized where the problem lay. The clothes she wore were indeed proper, and they were indeed her own, but this dress was what she had worn at yesterday's banquet.

What was she wearing today?

Well, he hadn't paid attention. But a noble could never wear the exact same dress two days in a row; otherwise, they would become a laughingstock.

Therefore, this could not possibly be her in person—at least, not the Miss Valente who had been with him just now.

Then who was this?

A terrible premonition suddenly seized Lynch. Seeing her in yesterday's dress naturally made him think back to yesterday, and what had left the deepest impression on him yesterday was...

The Gate of Falsehood and Reality.

Had the item fallen into Chloe's hands?

Was Miss Valente duplicated at yesterday's banquet?

Yes, that was it! That was why it was wearing the dress Diana had worn yesterday.

But if this thing was a duplicate, what had happened to the real Miss Valente? Why hadn't she answered the call?

For a moment, Lynch's mind was in turmoil, worrying for Miss Valente's safety. Right then, he saw the human figure—suspected to be a duplicate—step up to the Deep Ones and speak in a raised voice, “Welcome, visitors from the deep sea. On behalf of the Valente family, I welcome you. Thank you for responding to our invitation. Rest assured, our Valente family will not let you return empty-handed. Everything in the city is yours for the taking.”

Lynch's heart sank as he finally realized what the duplicate was trying to do. They intended to use this method to frame Miss Diana and the Valente family for conspiring with cultists and pirates.

Once the pirates truly began attacking the city, if anyone saw the duplicate together with them, there would be no way to prove her innocence. The Valente family's thousand-year reputation would be ruined in an instant, and Diana would be completely finished.

To destroy both life and reputation—what a vicious scheme.

He had to stop them. He couldn't let them succeed.

With a grim expression, Lynch made up his mind. He gestured for Maya to stay hidden and wait, then masked his presence and slid down the reef.

The pirates couldn't consist of just these nine Deep Ones; there were bound to be more behind them. Wiping out these few Deep Ones alone would accomplish nothing.

The entire conspiracy hinged on this duplicate. To thwart the plot, he had to make the duplicate disappear so that the Valente family's reputation would remain unblemished.

Then don't blame me for showing no mercy.

After carefully running through his deductions once more to ensure he hadn't made a mistake, Lynch transformed his cane into a serrated sword. Gripping the handle tightly, he crept silently toward the group.

The leader of the Deep Ones stood face-to-face with “Miss Valente,” while the other eight Deep Ones prowled and patrolled the perimeter, guarding them tightly. However, the light was far too dim for anyone to notice a line of footprints appearing out of nowhere, weaving straight through the gaps between the patrolling guards.

Those were Lynch's footprints.

There would only be one chance to infiltrate. Lynch knew these monsters would never give him a second opportunity to draw near, so he exercised the utmost caution, bypassing the patrolling Deep Ones as he drew closer step by step to the two figures surrounded in the center.

The two were conversing continuously, their voices drowning out Lynch's footsteps.

“In accordance with the ancient pact, we are willing to accept your invitation and do our utmost to sack this city.” The Deep One leader's hoarse voice was thick with malice, its fish head twisting into a hideous smile. “Do you have any other requests?”

“I will travel with you,” “Miss Valente” replied with a curling, cold smile. “And I need you to make my presence as prominent as possible.”

“Of course. According to the pact, your demands will surely be fulfilled. When do you plan to be—”

The fishman's voice cut off abruptly. A strangely human look of surprise flashed across its fish face as it stared at the footprints appearing out of thin air on the ground behind “Miss Valente.”

Now!

Though it wasn't the ideal position, he couldn't afford to delay any longer. Their conversation just now had already confirmed his suspicion. Lynch hesitated no more; raising his transformed cane, he thrust it viciously into the duplicate's back.

It happened so suddenly that the group of pirate Deep Ones froze in shock, blankly watching Lynch materialize out of thin air and thrust his sword toward her back.

The one who reacted was the duplicate instead. Perhaps sensing danger from the expressions on the Deep Ones' faces, a sudden burst of light flashed across the duplicate's skin. A Shield of Piety erupted from within her body, deflecting Lynch's cane. At the same time, her body spun around sharply, pointing the folding fan in her hand straight at Lynch's head.

Lynch narrowed his eyes but did not dodge. Gritting his teeth, he pulled back his cane and stabbed forward once more just as the Shield of Piety began to fade.

Boom!

Gunfire erupted as a shotgun fired point-blank at his face.

However, a swarm of steel pellets exploded from the barrel and passed straight through Lynch's head, slamming directly into the dazed Deep Ones standing behind him. Lynch himself remained completely unharmed.

Nolan's Phase Fortress had activated just in time, isolating Lynch outside physical space.

A golden opportunity!

Holding his breath, Lynch drove the serrated sword heavily into the duplicate's chest, but it passed straight through without encountering any resistance.

The effect of spatial isolation was fair; it didn't change just because he shifted from defense to offense.

Damn it, bad calculation!

Fortunately, three seconds passed in a flash. Lynch thrust his cane forward once more, just as the duplicate reloaded a second shell into the shotgun.

I'm one step faster than you, duplicate! You don't have time to use your Shield of Piety again, I—Wait, huh???

A thought suddenly flashed through Lynch's mind.

A duplicate is a soulless puppet, but abilities derive from the power of the soul. Therefore, it can only replicate a normal person's physical body.

Then where did her Shield of Piety come from?!

Holy crap, am I about to kill the REAL her?!

Why would she do this?!

However, in the blink of an eye, there was no time left to ponder anything. The other party's shotgun was already aimed straight at his head again, and her finger was resting on the trigger.

Lynch's eyes turned bloodshot in an instant. He was no longer certain of his deduction, but facing the barrel of the gun, he could only drive his weapon forward with all his strength.

Hesitation meant death. If he didn't stab, he would be the one dying. He didn't want to die—so he could only apologize.

The moment he thrust the sword forward, a sinister, vicious grin appeared on the leader's fish face, and Lynch seemed to hear the chanting of the Deep Ones echoing in his ears once more:

In his house at R'lyeh, dead Cthulhu waits dreaming.

“Pfft.” Blood spatters.