Thorn Flower

Lynch knew he had likely found the right place.

This was the Triangle, a deeply inconspicuous street sitting at the intersection of King District, Valley District, and the gray fog zone.

At the mouth of the alley stood a small two-story building. A carved thorn flower on the door served as its only sign. Two burly, intimidating men stood guard on either side of the entrance, through which cloaked, furtive figures darted in and out from time to time.

It seemed like nothing more than an ordinary private club, no different from the thousands of other clubs across Rhine City.

That was, if one ignored the prompts echoing in his consciousness.

Having stood in the shadow of a gas streetlamp at the mouth of the alley for less than ten minutes, the prompt in his mind had already sounded five times.

At least five mystery relics had openly brushed past him. With a frequency like that, Lynch wouldn't believe anyone who claimed this business wasn't tied to mystery.

He estimated this place was very likely an underground market for trading mystery relics.

Should he enter? Lynch asked himself silently.

Madam Bessie's visceral reaction was not yet forgotten, and Officer Natalie's resolve in venturing into danger alone was still vivid before his eyes. He was just an ordinary person armed with a few broken weapons—was he really going to barge in like this? How was that any different from seeking his own death?

But she was very likely already inside.

Officer Natalie was his savior, the first person since his transmigration who was genuinely good to him. She had been dragged into this simply because he wanted to latch onto someone reliable, and now she had gone in to face a horrifying entity whose mere existence had broken Madam Bessie.

Could he just stand by and watch? Would he even be human?

If something really happened to the lady officer because of this, Lynch believed that even if he survived, he would never forgive himself for the rest of his life. It was better to face life and death together.

Besides, death wasn't certain. Against other threats, he was weak as a kitten, but against a high-ranking entity that devoured souls, he still had a secret weapon. It should be effective, right, Travel Companion?

【Throughout a journey, one may behold all manner of scenery.】

Hearing that from you makes me even more terrified. Thanks a lot.

Lynch felt his handgun and ring. Gritting his teeth, he swung his cane and stepped out from the shadows, walking toward the dim entrance of the small building.

Just moments ago, a passerby had been chased off by the brutes at the door, but Lynch walked straight over anyway.

Eyes forward, righteous and self-assured.

Back then, Natalie was able to bring Mrs. Maggie and little Martha inside, which showed that the restrictions here were not actually that strict. Under this premise, as long as he had a legitimate reason, he shouldn't be given too hard of a time.

Let's give it a try. Hopefully, I'm not wrong.

“Hey, stop right there.” Sure enough, the bouncer blocked Lynch. “What are you doing here?”

Lynch took a breath, pulled out The Passion of the Blazing Lady, and gave it a wave. “First time here. I have an item I'd like to sell.”

Both brutes fell silent. Lynch kept his gaze lowered, feeling nervous inside, but still fought to keep his expression calm.

“Where's the passcode? You don't know it? Without a passcode, this is very difficult for us.” The bouncer eyed Lynch suspiciously.

“Uh, she seemed to mention a passcode, but I forgot it,” Lynch said, scratching his head awkwardly.

“Who?”

Lynch chose the safest answer: “A red-haired lady who always has a pipe in her mouth. Her shop didn't want to buy it, so she told me to try my luck here.”

“Madam Bessie, huh? Why do you forget everything? Aren't you making things difficult for us? Forget it, forget it, go on in. Since it's your first time, don't wander off. If you stumble into a place you shouldn't and mysteriously disappear, don't blame me for not warning you. Go straight to the counter and find an attendant—they'll tell you the rest of the procedure.”

It seemed quite normal, just the standard reaction of security guards.

Perhaps it was just an ordinary black market inside, not that dangerous after all?

Hoping for good fortune, Lynch gave a polite nod, bypassed the bouncers, and stepped through the front door.

First hurdle cleared, I—

Crossing the threshold, the instant his foot touched the ground, Lynch's vision suddenly blurred.

It was like static flashing across an old television screen, accompanied by a sharp ringing in his ears.

Through the fleeting static, Lynch felt as if he were suspended in a murky void, looking down into the abyssal darkness below. In the dark, eight crimson points of light suddenly flared to life.

The illusion flashed and vanished, and his vision returned to normal, though a dizzy, groggy feeling lingered in his brain, fading only after he gave his head a shake.

‘Travel Companion.’

【This building is conceptually entwined with mysterious filth. When you completed the act of entering the building, your inspiration was stimulated by the filth.】

‘So this is an early warning from inspiration? There really is danger here? Looks like high inspiration is pretty nice after all.’

【Heh...】

Go in. He was already here anyway.

Lynch ignored the strange chuckle in his head and entered deeper into the building, maintaining as natural a demeanor as possible.

Inside were carpeted corridors branching to the left and right, lined with quite a few doors. The decoration along the hallway was rather exquisite, though the lighting was dim and hazy.

Lynch looked at the attendants standing on either side of the hallway, and following the guard's instructions, walked straight toward the main hall in front.

The main hall resembled a bar, with the counter mentioned by the guard sitting right in the center. Around it were semi-partitioned booths, and along the outer perimeter was a ring of doors resembling private rooms.

Lynch swept his eyes across the room and found no trace of Officer Natalie.

I can't rely on blind luck aimlessly. Let me think about how to search for her.

Officer Natalie had dealings with this place before. I don't know the extent of her familiarity with it, so I can't reconstruct her line of thinking to catch up to her. But that doesn't matter. Her goal is to track down the mystery relic William's Holiday Surprise. As long as I investigate it as well, even if our methods differ, we'll ultimately end up on the same path.

Putting her aside for now, under normal logic, if the trail of the mystery relic points here, the greatest likelihood is that the relic was traded right here. Let me take a look first.

His mind made up, Lynch smiled at the attendant in a red vest behind the counter: “Do you have a catalog of items for sale or wanted listings from recently? I'd like to purchase a few mystery relics.”

The attendant suspected nothing and pushed several thick registration ledgers forward: “From back to front. But customers from before today might not still be around, so we might need to notify them by letter—unless they booked a private room and stayed.”

Lynch nodded and flipped open a ledger. Inside were lines of registration entries, neatly categorized by purchases and sales.

After reading carefully through the records from the past month or so, not only was there no William's Holiday Surprise, but there wasn't even a single mystery relic whose name sounded remotely related to fireworks.

Nothing.

Lynch was a little disappointed. Seeing that the attendant was deeply absorbed in a novel and no other customers were coming to the counter for the moment, Lynch opened the private room registration ledger.

This wasn't an inn. In addition to guest names, the private room registrations here included the names of the occult items being purchased or sold. Yet after going through all the recent entries, Lynch still couldn't find a name resembling his target.

This was strange. Since the mystery relic was connected to this place, there was no reason it shouldn't appear in the transaction records, unless... Lynch's gaze fell upon a private room registration entry from five days ago.

In the past several dozen days, this was the only registration entry that did not list the name of the mystery relic.

An anomaly always had a reason.

There was a problem here.

Lynch noted the room number, Room 8, and decided to establish a justifiable reason to stay before investigating this room further.

That identity, of course, was as a seller of a mystery relic.

Seeing the attendant look up from his novel, Lynch set the ring down on the counter. The red-vested attendant glanced at it: “A mystery relic? For sale?”

Lynch nodded.

“Mr. Terry, someone's selling a mystery relic.”

The red vest turned and called out with practiced ease. Moments later, a person in a purple vest walked over holding a sheet of paper.

“Fill out the form. I'll register it for you, and then you can wait in a seat. If someone takes a liking to it, they'll come find you. It might not sell in one day, so remember to come back for a few days. Keep in mind that we take a five percent commission on the sale price.”

The purple-vested supervisor was expressionless, his voice completely devoid of emotion as if mechanically reciting lines from a script.

As Lynch took the paper, he gave the purple vest a puzzled glance.

The instant he saw the man's face, another burst of static flashed across his field of vision.

Before him, the purple-vested attendant was a stern, ordinary-looking middle-aged man. Yet behind the flickering static, the middle-aged man's face seemed to have an overlaid double image. The afterimage resembled a massive spider with a wedge-shaped head and insectoid mouthparts, its four teeth split horizontally and constantly snapping open and shut like razor-sharp blades.

Separated by only the counter, the distance between them was extremely close, placing the double image right before Lynch. He could clearly see a row of red eyes growing on the insect head, yet inside those eyes were human eyeballs and pupils, every single pupil staring dead at Lynch without blinking.

Ten eyes met, and time itself seemed to freeze.