Chapter 116: “Everything is Normal”

This Translation is hosted on bcatranslation.com

Shirley briskly walked away with Dog trailing behind her until they both vanished into the horizon. Duncan watched them until they were out of sight, then turned his gaze back to the burned-out factory before him. The mysterious, otherworldly flames had finally died down, allowing the concealed barrier masking the factory’s true state to restore itself. The landscape returned to its “normal” appearance, as if nothing had happened. The ash from the supernatural fire mysteriously evaporated, leaving no trace of the inferno that had consumed the factory.

Duncan’s eyes moved upward, settling on the sky. He couldn’t shake the thought of an invisible, curtain-like barrier enveloping the entire area, obscuring harsh truths hidden beneath everyday life. While the Sixth District wasn’t densely populated, it still housed a few thousand inhabitants. This invisible veil had hidden the area’s true state from them for an agonizing eleven years.

Everyone had somehow forgotten the massive fire that raged here, attributing the area’s decline to a “chemical leak” from the factory instead. As this thought crossed his mind, Duncan’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion and concern. According to Dog, there were no lingering chemical pollutants around the factory. If that was the case, why had there been no births in the Sixth District for over a decade? Could some supernatural force be preventing new life from emerging in this beleaguered community?

Duncan pondered deeply, staring into the sky. It was becoming increasingly clear that this invisible barrier might be hiding more than he initially suspected.

…

Meanwhile, some distance away from the Sixth District, Shirley cautiously peeked her head out from a dim alleyway, nervously scanning the area for patrolling sheriffs. She then spoke softly to a dark corner beside her, where the shadows seemed unusually thick, almost tangible. This was where Dog was concealed, making a faint, indistinguishable sound, “We didn’t escape on our own; he allowed us to leave.”

“It’s basically the same thing,” Shirley retorted, waving her hand dismissively as she sat down on the dirty ground. “That was absolutely terrifying. I was so scared I didn’t even dare to breathe, let alone curse. I had to pretend to be sweet and innocent. You wouldn’t understand, Dog.”

“I understand more than you think,” a dark, echoing voice emanated from the shadowy corner. “What’s it like walking next to a smiling subspace shadow? Is it more draining than dealing with a group of intimidating sheriffs and guardians?”

“Quit the chatter; I’m freezing,” Shirley said, rolling her eyes irritably. “I only freaked out today because of those unsettling stories you filled my head with last time. Who would have guessed that someone so powerful would disguise himself as an ordinary citizen? The guy even rode the bus and paid the fare like the rest of us. How were we supposed to know we’d cross paths with him like that?”

After a brief pause, Dog responded, “It could be a passing fancy, or he might be specifically observing you. What concerns me is that having crossed paths with such a powerful being, it’s likely our fates are now interconnected.”

A slight shiver ran down Shirley’s spine. “So you’re saying we’re bound to run into him again? Can we please avoid that?”

“Do you not remember his parting words?” Dog sighed. “He said he would find us.”

Shirley lowered her head in contemplation, falling silent for a few moments. Dog broke the pause, “So how do you feel? Scared? Regretful? I did warn you that stepping into the supernatural world means dealing with entities far beyond human understanding. Had you listened to me a few months ago and avoided delving into past mysteries, you’d still be living a quiet, mundane life.”

“I don’t regret a damn thing!” Shirley snapped, keeping her head lowered but her voice thick with defiance. “I’ve never felt regret from the beginning, and I don’t plan to start now. Enough with the defeatist talk.”

“Fine, fine, I get it,” Dog ceased talking. “Have you rested enough? Should we get moving? Doesn’t your ‘new acquaintance’ have a meeting planned with you?”

“I… I’ll wait another two minutes,” Shirley replied, running her fingers through her tangled hair. Her voice quivered slightly. “My legs feel like jelly. Just give me another minute or so.”

Dog remained silent, emitting a soft, raspy sound that resembled snoring. The shadow where he hid started to contract, finally melding into Shirley’s own shadow.

…

Meanwhile, at lunchtime in a different location, Vanna haphazardly shoved chunks of jam-covered bread into her mouth, barely chewing as she hastily scanned a briefing document laid out next to her. Feeling the food catch in her throat, she grabbed a glass from the table and downed several big gulps.

Across the table, Uncle Dante’s voice emanated, tinged with annoyance, “Vanna, for goodness sake, show some table manners. And stop chugging alcohol as if it’s water.”

“Heathens aren’t going to wait for me to finish a four-course meal. The faster I eat, the sooner I can send them off to meet whatever deity they believe in,” Vanna responded, glancing at her uncle while struggling to swallow her semi-chewed food. “It’s not like we’re at a fancy banquet or something.”

“Dining with proper manners isn’t just a formality, Vanna; it’s essential for social interactions, including marriage,” Dante admonished, his face lined with worry. He looked at his niece, who was of marriageable age but had yet to introduce any romantic partners to the family. “You’re making yourself an undesirable match, unless perhaps that ship has already sailed.”

Pausing to consider his words, Vanna finally slowed her pace of eating, her face turning a shade pinker, revealing her discomfort. “Well, it’s not like I have a lot of free time. My responsibilities as an inquisitor for the Storm Church are rather time-consuming.”

Dante shook his head, clearly unimpressed. “The Storm Church doesn’t prohibit its clerics, including inquisitors, from marrying or having families. I’ve gone through the ‘Storm Codex’; it’s not against the rules. Haven’t you met anyone who meets your criteria?”

Vanna fidgeted, poking at the bread on her plate with her knife as she looked down. “The problem is that there hasn’t been anyone strong enough to be my partner.”

Sighing deeply, Dante’s face was filled with concern. “You should really reconsider that vow you took—the one about only accepting a strong individual as your life partner. Bishop Valentine should have advised you against making such a rash commitment.”

Vanna hung her head even lower, her tall and commanding presence suddenly diminished. She resembled a chastised child. “Vows aren’t something one can simply retract. They’re sacred promises made before the Goddess herself. Besides, I didn’t make that vow impulsively. Many female guardians make the same commitment. It symbolizes the courage granted to us by the Storm and demonstrates our devotion to the Goddess.”

Eyeing his niece, who towered over him by a head and a half, Dante posed a question, “Have you ever thought that perhaps you might train yourself to become so strong that no one could match up to you?”

Vanna responded, “Isn’t that the entire point of fulfilling my second and third vows?”

Dante could only sigh in response.

The subject of Vanna’s marriage prospects had become a recurring topic of conversation between the uncle and niece over the past few years, and it always ended in an awkward stalemate. Today was no different.

However, Vanna was quick to regain her composure. She polished off the remainder of her meal at an astonishing speed and began to gather her briefing materials, ready to exit. “I’ve finished eating, Uncle, so I’ll be on my way. Anything else?”

Suddenly, Vanna halted, her eyes widening as she pointed at Dante’s ruby prosthetic eye. “Uncle, there’s blood leaking from the area around your eye. Are you okay?”

“Blood? What?” Dante was visibly alarmed. He quickly touched the area near his prosthetic eye and indeed felt wetness. Grabbing a mirror, he saw that blood was slowly oozing out from the edges of the ruby orb, trickling down the surrounding scar tissue. Although the amount was small, the sight was deeply disconcerting.

“Hold still,” Vanna instructed as she briskly moved over to Dante. She gently placed her hand near the area of his bleeding eye and began softly chanting verses from the “Storm Codex.” “May the sea breeze restore and moisten the wounded flesh; let this affliction mend and revert to its original state.”

As Vanna’s prayer took hold, Dante felt a slight tingling sensation around the affected area. Moments later, the minor bleeding came to a halt. “There’s really no need to worry so much,” Dante said, his voice tinged with a resigned tone. “This isn’t the first time something like this has happened over the years. The prosthetic is made of cold metal and mineral; occasional ‘minor conflicts’ with living tissue are par for the course.”

Despite Dante’s reassurance, Vanna’s face remained tense. She continued to examine his ruby eye meticulously. After an uncomfortably long pause, she finally voiced her concerns, “Is there anything else you’re feeling? Any sensations of burning or sharp pain? Or perhaps, are you seeing any strange visions or hallucinations through that eye?”

Dante blinked, meeting Vanna’s gaze. Reflected in his mystical ruby eye was the world as he could see it. And what he saw was disquieting. Flames blazed behind Vanna, turning the dining room into an apocalyptic backdrop. Scorched walls, ash-covered furniture, and indistinguishable molten debris and charred remains hung from the ceiling, almost as if they were foreboding signs of some impending doom.

For a brief moment, the ruby eye felt warm before it reverted back to its usual, cold temperature.

“Of course not, everything seems perfectly normal to me.” Dante managed a smile, doing his best to sound convincing.

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