“Oh?”
Elias looked at the female reporter in surprise.
Ophelia had her head lowered at this moment, looking like a child who had done something wrong.
He tilted his chin up slightly, reclaiming his previous calm, detached demeanor.
“Miss Moore.”
His voice was very soft.
“I warned you back at Krenter Station.”
Ophelia’s body trembled, and she buried her head even lower.
Elias slid his hands into his trench coat pockets, looking at her with easy composure.
“You told me back then that you were going to investigate this to the very end.”
“At the time, you firmly believed that justice and freedom of the press could conquer all.”
“However, for the sake of your personal safety, it’s not too late to turn back now.”
Elias flashed a somewhat cold smile.
“What you saw today is only the tip of the iceberg. You haven't even touched the hem of that behemoth's skirt.”
“You can pack your bags and leave here tonight.”
He pointed with his chin toward the distant train station.
“Buy the earliest train ticket out of Hastings Port, doesn't matter where.”
“Just like I said, find a remote countryside farm, change your name, and hide...”
However, his words were cut short.
For Ophelia’s shoulders began to shake.
Following that was a highly suppressed, faint sob.
She raised her hand and wiped away a tear.
Her voice carried a sob.
“I don't want to give up either!”
“If I can find Ryan, I'll do anything!”
“But... but I'm really scared!”
Her tears streamed down her cheeks.
“You don't know what happened on the ship...”
“That is simply not a power that humans can fight against!”
Elias looked at her and sighed.
While on the ship, he had already learned everything from the sailors.
“When we want to rebel against authority, it is never smooth sailing.”
He spoke slowly, his voice deepening.
“Miss Moore.”
“Wayland Shipping is a very large company.”
“So large that... in every corner of this country, you can see its shadow.”
“So large that... some of their businesses involve things beyond your cognition.”
“It's not simple smuggling, nor is it a pure monopoly.”
Ophelia was stunned, staring at him blankly.
“And your brother is precisely a link in this business.”
“He didn't just go missing; he became fuel to maintain a certain forbidden balance.”
“You might have already sensed it, but unfortunately, you will have to dig up all of this yourself.”
“I can't give you a perfect ending where justice is served by dawn.”
He stepped forward, reaching out to gently pat Ophelia's shoulder.
“Anyone would be afraid when facing the shadows cast by Wayland Capital.”
“But what matters is the determination to grit your teeth and move forward even after witnessing the malice of the world.”
“That is the only light on a mortal that can be called 'sacred'.”
Elias withdrew his hand and put it back in his pocket.
“But as a... travel companion.”
He paused, correcting his wording.
“Or rather, as a temporary partner who has taken benefits from you.”
“I don't want to sway your choice.”
“For better or worse, you should be true to yourself.”
Hearing Elias’s words, Ophelia slowly raised her head, looking at the man before her through tearful eyes.
At this moment, the man named "Bruce Wayne" exuded an indescribable sense of mystery in her eyes.
“But I don't have the ability!”
Ophelia grit her teeth, her voice filled with helplessness.
“I saw those white ghosts today!”
“Mr. Wayne!”
“If it were you, what would you do?”
If it were you, faced with such despair, how would you choose?
Elias didn't answer immediately.
For a brief moment, he lost himself in thought.
If it were him...
In his mind, Arthur's serious face, always filled with worry, and Charlotte's flowing red hair flashed by.
Putting himself in her shoes.
What if the one missing and in grave danger today were Arthur or Charlotte?
And what if he were just an unarmed mortal?
What would he do?
Elias closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and spoke with powerful conviction.
“I would not give up.”
No hesitation, no perfunctoriness; that was the only answer given by the overlay of two souls in the depths of his spirituality.
“Even if it means I must say goodbye to my past life from now on.”
“I would do it at all costs.”
These words were soft, yet they carried the weight of a thousand pounds.
Like an invisible spell, it shattered the gloom hanging over Ophelia's head.
Sometimes, a mortal's resolve was far more infectious than the radiance of a god.
As his words fell, Ophelia visibly cheered up.
Her eyes regained their luster.
“Thank you, Mr. Wayne.”
“I've figured it out.”
“I will persist.”
It looked as though the girl was about to fire up again, to the point where the background music seemed about to transition into a heroic anthem.
Elias hurriedly raised his right hand and gestured downward twice.
“No, no, don't be in such a hurry, girl.”
“Tell me your answer tomorrow morning.”
Elias let out a yawn and walked forward lazily.
“There's an old saying: never make any decisions at night.”
“A person's brain is most prone to overheating in the dead of night.”
“Wait until the sun rises tomorrow, then come talk to me.”
Ophelia froze in place, her hot-blooded passion instantly doused and chilled to the core by this bucket of cold water.
She glared at Elias's back with annoyance, but still quickened her pace to keep up.
This man was truly... so sharp-tongued that it made one want to smash his head with a typewriter.
Chatting idly like this, the two returned to the Coast Hotel.
In the dead of night, the lower district of Hastings Port was dead silent.
The streets were littered with the mess left behind after the sea-folk retreated during the day.
Along the way, to prevent the girl from breaking down and going wild due to her fragile psychological state, Elias took the initiative to start a conversation.
He gave a general explanation of some of the things she had seen.
Of course, he did so in a way she could understand, letting her know that there were things in this world that science could not explain.
Then, the girl naturally deduced the existence of gods.
“So, there really are gods in this world, right?”
“Those honorific names that live in legends and appear at the foundation of church doctrines are all real?”
She stopped in her tracks and looked at Elias, a feverish thirst for the unknown burning in her eyes.
“You can understand it that way.”
Elias pushed open the heavy doors of the Bay Hotel.
Right up until they parted ways on the stairs, Ophelia was still eager to learn more.
“Mr. Wayne, where should I go to learn about these things?”
“Read books.”
Elias turned around, dismissing her with a heartless reply.
“Don't expect me to be your free tutor, Miss Moore. Knowledge has a price.”
With that, he ignored the female reporter's somewhat resentful gaze and slowly walked upstairs.
“Elias, you've made me see you in a new light tonight.”
Old Ed sighed with emotion in his mind once they returned to the room.
“I always thought you were an emotional idiot.”
“I didn't expect you to have a few tricks up your sleeve.”
“That chicken soup for the soul you served downstairs almost had even me believing it.”
“Heh.”
Elias sneered, taking off the Spy's Derby Hat and hanging it on the coat rack.
As the hat came off, his appearance shifted back to its original form.
“I don't just have a few tricks up my sleeve; I have a whole wardrobe of them.”
He lay back on the bed, resting his hands behind his head as he stared at the pitch-black ceiling.
“But most of the time, I'm too lazy to bother with things that waste so many brain cells.”
“For me right now, lifting the curse, staying far away from Moon Bay, and staying away from that damned Wayland Shipping are the only things that matter.”
Saying that, he pulled out the slip of paper concerning the curse-removal materials that Crowley had handed him before they disembarked.
Every single supernatural material listed on it sounded like it was specifically designed to torment a proletarian like him.
“Unfortunately, I still have to wait.”
Elias sighed, stuffing the slip of paper back into his inner pocket.
“Stay away from Wayland?”
Old Ed burst out laughing.
“You little rascal, you're still too young and naive. You're oversimplifying things.”
“From what we've gathered recently, where in all of Velen is there not a shadow of Wayland?”
The old ghost's tone carried a hint of mockery.
“If you ask me...”
“Why don't you see if you can get your hands on a 【Wish】 spell scroll somewhere and try making a wish?”
“How about it? Want to consider it? Back in the Ascetic Society, I think I heard some clues about it...”
Old Ed was still chattering away mockingly in his mind.
However...
“Hmm?”
Hearing this, Elias abruptly sat up.
“No.”
“Old Ed.”
“Something's wrong with you.”
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