Scent of the Living

Wrapped in animal hides, his skin was etched with dense tattoos. His disheveled gray-white beard and hair were a tangled mess, and his eyes were half-open, half-closed, as if he had only just woken.

Flanked by the surrounding hillmen, the old man emerged from the forest and headed straight for the cabin.

Every glance he cast carried a soul-piercing oppression, with faint arcs of lightning seemingly hidden within his gaze. Most crucially, every step the old man took left a footprint behind.

Quite literally so.

With every step he took, the weeds beneath his feet seemed to abruptly lose their vitality, withering and decaying in an instant. They left foot-sized patches of dead grass in his wake, drawing closer step by step as a bizarre trail of withered yellow footprints stretched toward the cabin.

His pace was unhurried, stopping and starting, yet each grotesque footprint was like the harsh tolling of a death knell, pounding heavily against Lynch's heart.

Watching this group of hillmen, an anomaly flashed before Lynch's eyes once more.

He seemed to see an endless sea of corpses, where a pack of the dog-faced monsters he had seen in the photographs crouched beside the heaps of bodies like humans, lifting their heads. Their gaping maws, dripping with rotting flesh and putrid fluid, overlapped with the simple, honest faces of the hillmen, filling Lynch with an indescribable sense of eerie dread.

My damn inspiration didn't leave me room for even a shred of wishful thinking—these people really were all ghouls. We only came to investigate a cabin, so how did we run into a horde of monsters? Was this the power of a constitution that attracted mysterious events?

Just as this thought crossed Lynch's mind, he felt the female officer's muscles stiffen through where their bodies touched. Even her voice came out somewhat hoarse: “Damn it, he's high-tier.”

“Is he strong?”

“A single glance could crush us—in fact, he wouldn't even need that.” The female officer clenched her fists tightly just to keep her muscles from trembling. “His oppressive aura is too strong. It's a natural reaction, sorry.”

A chill ran through Lynch's heart, and he whispered, “Should we hide? The cellar or the attic in the ceiling—they're small, but we could conceal ourselves.”

“That's too easy to discover. Besides, we're police officers representing the royal family and order. If we're just routinely searching for a missing person, they shouldn't dare act recklessly.”

The female officer grabbed Lynch's hand and lowered her voice:

“Listen, Lynch. In a moment, I'll go open the door and make my identity as an officer clear. I know how to deter them. Use your ability to conceal yourself and slip out when the door opens. Head back to the city as fast as possible to inform Victor. Don't worry, there's absolutely no danger for me. You're just adding a layer of insurance for my sake. Wait for me to regroup with you in the city.”

“Bullshit. If there were really no danger, you wouldn't tell me to use lurking to save my skin. Wanting me to hide just proves you have no confidence either and aren't sure if they'll suddenly go wild. Do you take me for an idiot? You're trying to insult me with this trick again. Let me tell you, woman, I've put up with you for days now. I never learned how to run away. If we die, we die together. You still owe me three conditions, and I won't let you run off on your own.”

Outside, the six humanoid hillmen had already emerged from the dense woods, stepping into the open area less than ten meters from the cabin. Sunlight filtered through the forest, striking the cabin's pointed roof and casting sword-like shadows pointing straight at them.

The old man observed as he walked, his gaze sweeping across the cabin from time to time. With every sweep, Lynch felt his heart tighten under the immense pressure.

Still, Lynch tugged at the female officer, pulling her away from the window to prevent the hillmen outside from spotting them from afar.

“Don't go out and confront them head-on. I don't like leaving my life in someone else's hands—especially when those hands belong to a pack of monsters. We saw it the other day; that elder hillman's perception seems exceptionally sharp. But I have an idea for finding a way out of a desperate situation. Want to go crazy with me once?”

“I don't like letting mysterious creatures decide my fate either.”

“Then listen to me. We'll hide in the attic storage room first. It's best if we aren't found, but if we are, let me give it a try. If all else fails, we'll take our chances—worst case, I die alongside my three conditions, so I won't have lost out.”

“Who are you calling 'three conditions,' bastard?”

Even with unease in her heart, the female officer punched him once, yet didn't object, following him up to the master bedroom on the second floor.

The hidden ladder leading to the attic was quite concealed. Had Officer Natalie not been familiar with the architectural designs of this era, it would have been difficult to notice earlier. The two pulled down the ladder leading to the attic first before leaning against the window to peer below.

Not daring to look at the elder hillman, they kept their eyes on the younger hillmen instead.

These hillmen looked much like they had through the telescope a few days prior, though up close they appeared even sturdier, exuding a considerable sense of pressure.

They lingered downstairs for a brief moment, conducting a cursory check of the surroundings before walking toward the cabin without bothering to conceal themselves. Soon, the sound of a door handle rattling came from the front door on the ground floor.

They were indeed coming for this house. The mastermind in the picture frame had likely intended to contact them as well, though it remained unclear what role each party played in all of this.

Lynch hesitated no longer and pointed toward the ceiling. Officer Natalie asked no questions, and the two climbed up into the attic together. Though called an attic, it was merely a small mezzanine storage space where Maya had set up a table and chairs.

Almost at the exact moment the front door downstairs was forced open, the two pulled up the hidden ladder, plunging the attic into darkness. While a kerosene lamp sat on the table, neither dared light it, simply listening in the dark to the commotion below.

Thud, thud, thud. Footsteps echoed as the hillmen poured into the wooden cabin, and the two finally heard their voices.

It was a form of speech capable of giving anyone nightmares.

Rapid in cadence and pitched similarly to a wailing infant, every single one of them spoke this way, creating an excruciatingly shrill din.

The words were barely intelligible, but listening to those bizarre sounds rising from below while unable to see anyone in the pitch-black attic was enough to send chills down one's spine.

Following a fit of violent coughing, a markedly deep and aged voice rang out by comparison.

“Search carefully. Find that female journalist. I can smell her scent—she lived here. As fast as possible. Once we find her, leave immediately so we do not alert those humans in Rhine City.”

“Yes, Lord Priest.”

Several hillmen responded in shrill tones, and soon the sound of doors violently opening and slamming shut echoed across the ground floor.

“Do not be so rough. We are humans now, and we must abide by the most basic rules of humans at the very least. Children, maintain a bit of gentlemanly composure. In addition, if you see a large bookcase, bring me the wooden frame inside. That person said it was placed in the bookcase.”

Hiss... Lynch felt the empty photo frame they had brought up with them. After Officer Natalie broke it earlier, the image on it had faded, leaving it as nothing more than an ordinary picture frame. It seemed the mastermind behind the empty picture frame had left it to contact these hillmen, though their true objective remained unknown. Fortunately, he had foiled that plot a step ahead.

“Lord Priest, the female journalist wasn't found on the first or second floor.”

“That shouldn't be. The resonance from her emanated from this very place; she was still here this morning. There is no mistake—that person said she was here as well. Furthermore, the scent of our kind left behind by her is all over this place. With my six senses, there is no chance I am mistaken.” Downstairs, there seemed to be the sound of a sniffing nose before the old priest's voice suddenly paused, his tone turning sinister. “I smell the scent of the living. There are living humans here!”