“Where is the lighthouse?”
In the sudden silence that fell over the three of them, Ophelia stood up and asked.
Old Crowley leaned against the doorframe, exhaling a thick cloud of smoke.
He pointed outside with the stem of his pipe.
“Over there.”
With that, the old man raised his voice and called out toward the beach:
“Malcolm, go with Miss Moore.”
Malcolm gave a muffled grunt of assent from outside.
Old Crowley stepped aside, clearing the doorway.
Ophelia walked out quickly, with Malcolm following close behind.
As their footsteps faded into the distance, old Crowley withdrew his gaze and looked at Elias.
“What do you say?”
Elias leaned back casually in his chair, spreading his hands with his signature, shameless smile.
“Having extra help is always a good thing.”
After all, in this bizarre place where Autobots and mermaid choirs could pop up at any moment, having an extra hand of free labor was better than going at it alone.
“But I want to know why.”
Elias narrowed his eyes, a hint of scrutiny in his tone.
Hearing this, Jack, who was standing to the side, and old Crowley, who was leaning against the door, exchanged a look.
Captain Crowley took a puff from his pipe.
“Jack here does a fine job.”
He pointed at Jack.
Elias let out a cold laugh.
“Who are you trying to fool?”
Crowley found himself annoyed by Elias's sharp wit.
“Fine, he can tell you himself later.”
Obviously, the old sea dog had no intention of getting involved in their business.
Seeing this, Elias didn't press the matter. Since the guy was staying anyway, he would have plenty of time to ask later.
His gaze swept around the room, finally locking onto the corner of the cottage.
“So, what's the deal with that secret door?”
Elias looked at Jack, pointing his finger at the trapdoor in the corner.
He had just remembered that for the past two months, a massive wooden water barrel had been sitting right over that spot.
It had been placed there to supply the lighthouse keeper's daily water.
Now, it seemed like a strange coincidence.
“It's just as you see.”
Jack fidgeted with the hem of his shirt, looking a bit awkward.
“I only discovered it on my first day here when I went to get some water.”
“I wanted to see how much water was left in the barrel, and I noticed there was a trapdoor hidden underneath.”
“So, I just decided to live down there.”
Elias raised an eyebrow.
“Isn't there a bed up here?”
Jack glanced at Elias.
“The cottage is full of your things, after all. I felt a bit uncomfortable about using them.”
Elias found this explanation utterly baffling.
He began to complain wildly in his mind.
“No, brother, wake up.”
“You're a foolish young man who got tricked into coming to this lighthouse as disposable fodder.”
“You're not even a transcendent.”
“And yet you actually have the luxury to be picky about your living conditions?”
Elias instinctively activated his Spirit Vision.
Habitually, he scanned Jack once more.
To his surprise, a faint, subtle glow of spirituality was currently radiating from Jack's body.
Elias's heart jolted, and his eyes narrowed dangerously.
“Are you a transcendent?”
He asked bluntly, without any beating around the bush.
Back when Ophelia was held hostage by this kid in a life-or-death situation,
Elias had observed the kid's spiritual state repeatedly.
Back then, Jack's body was as clean as a blank sheet of paper, without a single trace of spiritual fluctuation.
“Do you have a supernatural item that suppresses your Scale level?”
Elias's fingers lightly rubbed the head of his cane, his voice growing dark.
If this kid possessed a concealment item capable of fooling a Scale Two transcendent's perception, then his identity would be highly suspicious.
“Huh?!”
Jack was clearly startled by Elias's sudden interrogation.
Seeing Elias's “friendly” gaze, the young man turned pale and shook his head like a rattle.
He waved his hands frantically, explaining in a rush:
“No, no! Sir! Absolutely not!”
He then let out a sigh.
“It's just because I carry a bloodline curse.”
“My spiritual leak can sometimes be detected, and other times it disappears completely.”
Hearing this, Elias slowly deactivated his Spirit Vision, the scrutiny in his eyes replaced by a bizarre expression.
Sometimes it could be detected, and sometimes it vanished entirely?
“There's actually such a convenient thing?”
Elias couldn't help but raise an eyebrow.
If what this kid said was true, then this so-called bloodline curse was practically a god-tier ability under certain circumstances.
Just think about it. If this kid wanted to pull off some shady business that went against the Seventh Agency's interests in the future,
wouldn't he be able to bypass their spirit-measuring instruments entirely?
This was practically the ultimate tool for travel, murder, and plunder.
“Boys, can we please move the supplies in first?”
Old Crowley, unable to hold back any longer, spoke up to interrupt their conversation.
“It's about to get pitch-black.”
Elias glanced at the old man.
“Alright, let's get to work first.”
The two of them then followed old Crowley toward the pier outside the cottage, beginning to carry the wooden barrels and supplies that had been delivered.
This time, Elias finally experienced the smooth efficiency that Malcolm had shown when carrying supplies.
However, his mind was clearly not on the damp flour and dried meat.
He was still trying to find a way to learn more about this young man who was about to stay on the island.
“Jack, how exactly does your curse work?”
Elias carried two wooden barrels, walking side-by-side with Jack without even breaking a sweat, asking as if in casual conversation.
Compared to Elias, Jack was struggling significantly more with the supplies.
The young man stumbled along the gravel path, panting heavily.
“Actually... pant... it's not as perfect as you think, sir.”
“The worst part about it is... it's highly likely to trigger a massive spiritual leak without any warning, right when I want it to leak the least.”
“It's completely out of my conscious control.”
Elias's eyelid twitched at this.
“A sudden spiritual explosion right in the middle of a stealth mission... the sheer disaster of that scenario is too painful to imagine.”
Jack sighed and continued:
“Moreover, once my Scale level rises in the future, the negative effects of this curse will multiply, and the backlash will become even more severe.”
“For instance, when that time comes, it will be incredibly easy for others to detect my exact location.”
The young man smiled self-deprecatingly.
“At that point, if anyone wants to find me, they won't even need basic divination spells.”
“I'll be as conspicuous as a beacon hanging in the night sky.”
“Alright, so this isn't a god-tier ability at all. It's a ticking time bomb and a beacon that could go off at any moment.”
The three of them had just finished carrying the last batch of supplies to the open ground in front of the cottage and were about to sit down for a breather.
In the silence of the desolate island, a shout echoed from the entrance of the white lighthouse in the distance.
The voice was somewhat distorted by the sea breeze, but it was vaguely recognizable as Malcolm's.
“Captain!”
“Gentlemen!”
“We found something over here!”
The three of them exchanged looks, quickly dropping what they were holding and running toward the towering white lighthouse.
Elias began to ponder in his mind.
“What kind of 'major discovery' could they have made?”
“Could Malcolm and Ophelia have found that trapdoor while looking for things?”
“Did they completely unearth Old Ed's creepy little nest?!”
“But if that really is the case, it works out perfectly.”
“It saves him the trouble of bringing Ophelia there later anyway.”
“He can just let the little reporter take photos of Old Ed's mummified corpse right on the spot.”
“Take them back to Hastings Port and publish them right on the front page of the newspaper, exposing the dark, inhumane secrets of the Wayland Company.”
“It's a perfect loop of evidence.”
“Dammit!”
Edmond, who had been silent in his mind for a long time, cursed.
He seemed to have guessed the outcome as well.
“Aren't you guys just disturbing my peace?!”
Rate on N.U.
