Amidst the continuous wailing of the old couple, the tightly closed doors of the church finally creaked open a crack.
A man dressed in a grey robe squeezed out from the doorway. Judging by his attire, he looked like a deacon of the church. He was young, his face carrying a look of compassionate apology.
He walked quickly to the old couple and bent down, attempting to help them up.
“Please, don't do this. The priests in the church have already prayed for the deceased. He—”
“Prayed?” The old woman looked up, her eyes red and swollen from crying, staring intently at the deacon.
“What use is prayer? My child is dead, and you still won't let me see him!”
She couldn't go on, returning to slapping the stone steps.
The deacon remained compassionate and gentle. “Lost sheep, I know you are grieving, but the church really cannot be blamed for this.”
“The scaffolding was erected by a professional engineering team hired from outside. No one wanted this accident to happen.”
“Furthermore, your child’s death was tragic and unsightly. It is for your own good that we are not letting you see him one last time.”
“If we don't blame you, who do we blame?” the old man suddenly spoke up. “You found the people to build the scaffolding! You hired my child to paint the walls! You have to give us an explanation!”
The deacon lowered his eyes slightly. “An explanation has already been given. Between the compensation from the engineering team and the additional pension provided by the church, it is not a small sum. You two are old; take this money and enjoy your retirement.”
The tears and dust on the old woman's face had mixed into a mess. “We don't want money! We want our child! Give my child back to me!”
The deacon was silent for two seconds. His gaze swept across the surrounding onlookers, then across several people from other sects in the distance, before finally landing back on the old couple. He threatened in a low voice.
“The church has already done everything it can. If you continue to cause trouble like this, it won't end well for anyone.”
The old woman was stunned. She stared at the deacon, the resentment in her eyes undisguised.
But in the next second, she met the deacon's eyes. Her brain buzzed, and her gaze became vacant.
The old man beside her similarly became dazed.
A smile curved at the corner of the deacon's mouth, and he took a step back.
“The two of you should head back for now. If you need any help, feel free to come to the church to find us at any time.”
Having said this, he turned and pushed open the church doors, slipping inside.
The doors closed again.
The thud was not loud, but in the moment the old couple’s wailing paused, it sounded exceptionally clear.
The two old people remained in a daze, their shoulders trembling slightly.
Among the onlookers, someone let out a low sigh, someone shook their head and walked away, and others continued to whisper to one another.
“I heard that when the boy fell, he hadn't died yet. He was crying out in pain for a long time.”
“Half of the money given by the church was embezzled by the engineering team. This old couple won't actually get much.”
Yue Shi stood at the edge of the crowd, listening to a few more sentences. Once the crowd began to disperse, he walked to the church doors.
The grey stone walls, the pointed arch windows—the statue above the porch could barely be identified as a standing humanoid figure with arms spread wide, as if embracing something, or perhaps driving something away.
Yue Shi glanced up at the closed doors, then circled around to the side of the church.
There was a small window on the side wall about two meters off the ground, sealed shut with rusted iron bars.
Yue Shi gave a light leap, gripping the windowsill with one hand to peer inside.
The corridor was empty; no one was there.
He released his grip and dropped back to the ground.
In the next second, his figure vanished from the spot.
Space distorted slightly, like ripples on the surface of water after a stone is thrown in.
When the ripples settled, Yue Shi was already standing in the church’s interior corridor.
The snow leopard was nestled securely in his arms, its eyes not even open.
Several doors lined the sides of the corridor, and the end led to a more open space.
Yue Shi chose a door at random and pushed it open.
The main hall.
It featured a high vaulted ceiling, stained glass windows, and rows of pews neatly arranged.
The afternoon sun spilled through the stained glass, casting colorful light and shadows onto the floor.
Reasonably, it should have been sacred.
But Yue Shi saw what was wrong at a single glance.
The patterns on the stained glass were not common biblical stories or images of saints. Instead, they depicted a group of strange things.
They had humanoid silhouettes but fish-like heads with bulging, pupil-less eyes, bodies covered in scales, and webbing between their fingers.
They were gathered in a circle around a massive figure with countless tentacles emerging from its back.
The sunlight passing through these patterns cast distorted, writhing shadows on the floor.
Yue Shi took a step forward.
His gaze fell upon the god statue at the deepest part of the main hall.
The statue was about three meters tall and made of some kind of stone.
It had a humanoid torso but was covered in layers of fish-scale patterns.
Its arms hung naturally at its sides, its fingers long, with a layer of translucent membrane connecting the tips.
The face was a distortion difficult for humans to accept—blunt, rounded lips protruding outward, no bridge to the nose, only two tiny holes.
The eyes were massive, occupying a third of the face. The eyeballs were two perfectly round white stone spheres that shimmered faintly in the gloom.
Atop the statue’s head was a pair of horn-like protrusions, resembling the barbels of deep-sea fish.
Yue Shi tilted his head.
The statue’s posture was still somewhat sacred, with its arms slightly spread as if bestowing a blessing, and a trace of a compassionate curve at the corner of its mouth.
But the decaying aura seeping from within the stone statue reminded him of corpses that had been soaked in a shipwreck for a thousand years.
Sanctity and rot, solemnity and malevolence, were forcibly kneaded together.
Interesting.
Yue Shi withdrew his gaze and continued to wander through the church.
The basement door was in a corner to the side of the main hall, hidden by a faded curtain.
Yue Shi pulled back the curtain, revealing a narrow stone staircase extending downward.
The stone steps were steep, and the walls on both sides held only oil lamps with burnt-out wicks—they were mere decorations.
Yue Shi walked down.
The further down he went, the more humid the air became, accompanied by a fishy smell so thick it was choking.
At the end of the stone steps was an iron door, left slightly ajar.
Yue Shi pushed the door open.
Behind the door was a small space, about twenty square meters. The four walls were rough rock, and there were no windows.
The only illumination came from an oil lamp hanging from the ceiling. This lamp was still lit, its flame a strange blue-green.
The light shone on the ground.
Several corpses lay there.
They didn't look like human corpses.
Yue Shi stepped closer and looked down to inspect them.
The corpses barely maintained a humanoid silhouette, but they truly could not be called human.
The skin was grey-green with a damp luster, the surface covered in translucent, fine scales.
The proportions of the limbs were bizarre; the arms were half a segment longer than a normal person’s, with full webbing between the fingers and sharp claws for nails.
The faces had completely mutated. The eyes bulged outward without eyelids, the noses had disappeared, and the mouths were split wide, revealing two rows of fine, sharp teeth inside.
Gills had also grown on the corpses—several split slits on both sides of the neck with bright red, tender flesh at the edges.
One of the corpses wore a set of rough cloth work clothes stained with paint. Half a rubber boot was on its foot, but the foot had already turned into a webbed appendage, distorting the boot out of shape.
Was this the old couple’s tragically deceased child?
It didn't look like he had been dead for long; the body hadn't started to rot yet.
Or perhaps, this kind of mutated body simply wouldn't rot like an ordinary corpse.
Yue Shi stood up and looked around.
There were five corpses in total.
Some were curled up, some had their limbs splayed out, and some were twisted into impossible angles, as if they had experienced immense pain before death.
Yue Shi opened his third eye, observing carefully for a while before turning and leaving the basement.
By the time he walked out of the church, the sky was already leaning toward the west, and the orange-red light dyed the entire island in warm hues.
Holding the snow leopard, Yue Shi continued to wander the island.
But he hadn't walked far before he sensed something was wrong.
It was very strange.
On the streets, people dressed in various religious garments could be seen every certain distance.
Some had shaved heads and wore dark red monastic robes, but the robes weren't embroidered with lotuses or scriptures, but rather symbols resembling worms.
Some wore white robes with crowns woven from thorns on their heads, ringing bells as they walked.
Some were covered in ornaments from head to toe, their faces painted with greasepaint, walking through the crowd with hollow eyes.
There were also several wearing black cloaks with hoods pulled very low, revealing only the pale skin of their chins.
These people each occupied a corner of the street, not interfering with one another.
A monk in red robes sat in meditation by the roadside, chanting something under his breath about things like Amen-to-fo.
Three paces away, someone in white robes was distributing a type of food to several islanders. The food was drizzled with a bright red sauce and emitted a fishy, sweet scent.
Further away, several people with greasepaint on their faces were gathered in a circle, performing a slow, eerie dance, the bells in their hands tinkling with their movements.
The islanders seemed to have long since grown accustomed to this sight.
They walked past the monk without stopping. They accepted the food distributed by the person in white, thanked them, and continued on their way.
Occasionally, they would glance at the dancing painted people with expressions as flat as if they were watching street performers.
Yue Shi stopped walking.
So many sects?
And they could coexist peacefully?
He had lived for so long and was well-acquainted with religious conflict. Faith, by its nature, was exclusionary.
The fact that different sects could crowd into the same street without incident was itself the greatest abnormality.
The snow leopard in his arms looked up, its nostrils twitching as if it too smelled an unusual aura.
Yue Shi didn't move.
He stood by the roadside, watching the cultists in their strange attire and the habitual interaction between them and the islanders.
Several thoughts flashed through his mind.
For so many sects to exist simultaneously, either this island had some mechanism that forced them to coexist peacefully...
Or these sects were all worshipping the exact same thing.
They were just wearing different skins.
Just as he was thinking this, suddenly.
He felt a faint, subtle sense of being watched.
It was very light, very well-hidden.
Someone in the crowd was continuously watching him.
Yue Shi didn't look back. He continued forward, his pace and route unchanged.
Turning a corner, he walked into a narrower alley.
High walls lined both sides of the alley, and the end was a wall—a dead end.
Yue Shi stopped before the dead end.
He turned around, leaning his back against the wall, facing the way he came.
In his arms, the snow leopard's eyes brightened for a moment.
The sound of very light footsteps came, but in Yue Shi's ears, they were as clear as a beating drum.
A figure appeared at the alley entrance.
The person was dressed ordinarily and had a plain appearance; he wouldn't attract any attention in a crowd. Standing at the alley entrance now, he seemingly hadn't expected it to be a dead end, much less that Yue Shi would be leaning against the wall at the end, facing him directly.
He froze for a moment and turned to leave.
Then he discovered he couldn't leave.
He wasn't grabbed, nor was he held down by any force. Instead, the space beneath his feet had... mutated.
He took a step forward, but the alley entrance receded a step. He took another step, and it receded even further.
The alley, which was originally only a few meters long, was now like a rubber band being infinitely stretched. No matter how he walked, he could never reach the end.
Fear rose from the depths of his heart.
He opened his mouth to shout.
A hand reached out from behind and covered his mouth.
In the next second, everything went black.
By the time he could see clearly again, he found himself lying in a strange space.
All around was boundless darkness, with only a few floating mirrors reflecting a faint, cold light, showing his own face.
Yue Shi stood before him, holding the snow leopard, looking down at him.
“Speak. Why were you tailing me?”
The follower's lips trembled, but he said nothing.
Yue Shi waited.
“Don't want to talk?”
He raised his right hand, his index finger giving a light hook.
A sudden, sharp pain came from the follower's left arm.
He looked down and found his left arm was twisting inch by inch, like a fried dough twist.
He wanted to scream, but his mouth was blocked; he could only let out muffled whimpers.
Yue Shi looked into his eyes.
“The right arm is next.”
“Or, you could tell me who you are.”
Tears and snot surged out together as the follower nodded frantically.
Yue Shi snapped his fingers.
The pain vanished. The left arm still hurt, but at least it hadn't been crippled.
“I am an investigator for the Order Alliance,” the follower said, his voice raspy.
Yue Shi's brow arched slightly.
Another investigator?
Why did he run into them everywhere?
And what exactly was the Order Alliance?
“What are you doing on Dusk Island?” Yue Shi asked.
The follower thought for a moment before saying evasively, “Investigating cults. There are too many religious groups on the island, and they are suspected of being involved in illegal transactions.”
“I saw you just now. You came out of the church. That church is a confirmed cult stronghold on the island.”
Yue Shi looked down and rubbed the snow leopard’s head, speaking unhurriedly. “The Order Alliance... what does it do?”
The follower was stunned, seemingly not expecting this person to not even know about the Order Alliance.
But soon, he said with a face full of pride, “We are a maritime organization dedicated to dealing with evil forces. We operate in the nearby waters and will intervene as soon as we discover abnormal incidents that endanger ordinary people.”
“Who is behind it?”
“There is no one behind us. We are a loose alliance composed of representatives from various islands and merchant guilds, supervising and balancing one another.”
Yue Shi let out a soft laugh.
“A loose alliance? In other words, if you die, not many people should care, right?”
The man's face turned deathly pale, but he remained stubborn. “It doesn't matter. For the sake of rebuilding maritime order, sacrifices are necessary. I have long since prepared myself.”
Yue Shi rolled his eyes. “You speak so tragically, as if you're some great figure. Aren't you just a little lackey whose name no one will remember after you're dead?”
“What is your name?”
The follower was silent for a moment before saying, “My name is Kraken.”
Yue Shi also fell silent. One listen and it was clear the name was made up—utterly perfunctory.
Rate on N.U.
