Chapter 120: Rescue

This Translation is hosted on bcatranslation.com

In that surreal moment, time seemed to nearly halt. Nina was swallowed by encroaching darkness and stifling heat, her mind unraveling in the oppressive atmosphere.

Memories surged back like a relentless tide. She was transported to her childhood, often spent “assisting” her uncle in his quaint antique shop. Though she was more of a charming hindrance, frequently knocking things over and disrupting order, she cherished those days. Her uncle would entertain her with elaborate tales about the shop’s items, stories she later realized were mostly his vivid imagination. Other memories flashed by: her first school day, her awe at a steam engine diagram in a textbook, her first genuine praise from a teacher, her first friendship, and the painful loss of that friend.

Her thoughts grew erratic as acrid smoke seeped into the room, worsening her confusion and making breathing difficult. These swirling memories and thoughts fused into an inferno of recollection, each cherished moment seemingly ablaze, flickering back to life before her eyes.

Nina’s focus drifted to the ground near her feet, as if expecting it to ignite. Then, a cold touch on her forehead jolted her back to reality.

“Are you okay?” Shirley’s concerned face appeared. “You zoned out and started mumbling incomprehensibly.”

“I’m fine,” Nina reassured quickly, shaking her head to clear her disoriented thoughts. Gratefully clutching Shirley’s arm, she said, “Thank you. I was just lost in thoughts about my family.”

“Family…” Shirley hesitated, choosing her words carefully. “Who is in your family?”

“It’s just my uncle now. My parents died years ago, so he raised me,” Nina paused, then slumped, resting her head between her knees. “I promised him I’d be home early today.”

“You must be close to your uncle, then?” Shirley, unsure how to comfort Nina but wanting to keep the conversation going, asked, “What does he do?”

“He’s a simple man,” Nina began slowly. “He runs an antique shop in a less affluent part of town.” Noticing Shirley’s surprised expression, she added, “It’s not a grand antique shop. Most of what we sell aren’t genuine antiques.”

“Even so, that sounds amazing!” Shirley interjected, wanting to add positivity. “Owning a store, no matter where, must mean you’re doing okay, right?”

In this brief exchange, they revealed more than just their immediate circumstances; they voiced deeper thoughts and emotions usually left unspoken. Despite the looming crisis, they found a moment to forge a meaningful connection.

“Actually, the shop is quite unremarkable,” Nina elaborated, waving her hands to downplay its significance. “My uncle’s health has been deteriorating, and the business hasn’t been doing well. We don’t have much in savings. However, my uncle is incredible at engaging in lengthy, intellectual conversations with people like Mr. Morris, who insists he’s profoundly knowledgeable.”

Shirley listened intently, nodding as if deeply understanding. “Once we get out of this, I’d love to meet your fascinating uncle.”

Just as Nina’s lips parted to respond, a thunderous bang reverberated through the room, from the door’s direction. The fragile door was violently kicked open, crashing to the floor.

Nina’s immediate thought was that the corridor’s fire might now engulf them, a cautionary lesson from her school’s fire safety drills. But her dread was dispelled as a familiar figure stepped through the fallen door, absent the anticipated flames.

Shirley, too, was shocked by the jarring sound and sight of the shattered door. Her body tensed, eyes widening as she identified the intruder.

Standing in the doorway was an enigmatic figure with an otherworldly aura. Shirley noticed the fire’s last embers seemed to retreat as if commanded.

“Uncle Duncan?!” Nina’s voice was tinged with disbelief but filled with overwhelming relief. It was as though her fears evaporated upon seeing him.

Duncan looked equally surprised, his eyes meeting Nina’s. He had followed the “mark” left on Shirley, intending to find her first before searching the rest of the museum. Finding Nina here was unexpected.

His gaze shifted to Shirley. The conversation he had eavesdropped on through the “mark” was between her and Nina? And the “classmate” Nina planned to meet was Shirley?

Reading Shirley’s whirlpool of emotions, Duncan understood the situation’s complexity. Before she could speak, he stepped further into the room and scanned their surroundings. “It appears both of you are unharmed,” he noted.

Then he saw her—the third presence. A young woman in a long dress lay unconscious but breathing.

The air was thick with tension and relief. Each person had their motives, fears, and surprises, weaving a complex web. This tapestry of emotions promised to unravel unpredictably as the situation evolved.

In that pivotal moment, clarity rushed back to Shirley as if a fog had lifted. Her thoughts rewound to Nina’s words minutes earlier. Turning slowly, her neck tense, she looked at Nina, her face a mix of awe and incredulity. “Nina… is this man really your uncle?”

“Yes!” Nina exclaimed, rushing to embrace Duncan tightly. “Uncle, what are you doing here? Is the fire out?”

“Not completely, but it’s manageable,” Duncan replied casually. He knew his vague answer might raise eyebrows, but seeing Nina so emotionally overwhelmed, he figured she wouldn’t question him deeply for now. Clinging to his arm, she murmured, “Thank God, I thought today would be my last.”

“Enough small talk,” Duncan interjected, cutting off Nina’s emotional outpour. “This is neither the time nor place for that.” His eyes swiftly scanned Shirley and the unconscious young woman. “We have to bring her with us.”

“Ah… Right,” Nina said, her voice tinged with sudden urgency. She hurried to the young woman’s side to help lift her. Shirley also sprang into action, though their height difference made the task awkward. Duncan stepped in, preparing to lift the young woman himself.

As he reached down, Duncan hesitated, noticing an amethyst pendant that looked familiar. His thoughts drifted to a prior meeting with Mr. Morris, recalling curious details from their conversation.

“Uncle?” Nina’s voice snapped Duncan back to the present.

He shook his head slightly, casting a quick glance at Nina and a seemingly casual look at Shirley. With a faint smile, he murmured, “Small world, isn’t it?”

With that, Duncan effortlessly lifted the unconscious young woman, with Nina and Shirley’s help.

The trio stepped into a corridor miraculously showing no signs of the earlier fire. Even the thick smoke had mostly cleared. Shirley looked down the dim hallway, hesitating briefly before asking, “Which way should we go?”

Duncan lifted his gaze to indicate a direction but then sensed something through the residual “fire energy” that filled the museum. Abruptly changing his mind, he motioned towards a side exit. “This way.”

Guided by the retreating flames, the group swiftly exited. Shortly after they left, a squad of figures turned a corner near the bathroom—the storm guardians, who had earlier plunged into the danger zone.

The circumstances had shifted again. Whether guided by fate, random coincidence, or something more calculated, their lives were now entwined in ways none anticipated. With each step, the stakes rose, and the tension grew, setting the stage for unpredictable twists ahead.

The squad, fatigued and smeared with soot, stepped into the area. Despite their disheveled appearance, the oceanic blessings’ protective aura remained strong. Initially prepared to risk their lives, they found themselves unexpectedly unscathed due to the fire’s sudden disappearance.

“The fire here has been extinguished as well,” observed the lead priest, brows knitting in confusion as he scanned the calm environment. “Even the smoke seems to have been sucked away.”

“Isn’t the fire being out a good thing?” remarked one guardian, his voice hushed, unwilling to disrupt the newfound tranquility.

“Of course it is,” responded the priest gravely. “But fires of this scale don’t normally burn out quickly or without explanation.” His eyes caught sight of the bathroom door—shattered violently and hanging off its hinges.

“Someone has been here,” another guardian deduced, stepping forward to scrutinize the area. Finding enough traces for deeper investigation, he skillfully withdrew a censer and prayer book from his satchel. Donning a peculiar half-helmet with copper tubes, cranks, and various lenses, some etched with intricate runes, he set the censer down, fine-tuned the lenses, and examined every subtle detail and residual clue.

“There are no traces of supernatural energies,” he reported, surprised. “Just ordinary human auras, though it’s hard to discern the exact number due to overlapping energies. These were probably tourists trapped by the fire earlier. The door’s condition suggests an external rescue.”

“Are you absolutely certain no supernatural elements are involved?” pressed the priest.

“Absolutely none, sir.”

“…Very well, continue the search upstairs.”

“Yes, sir!”

Though the immediate fire danger was averted, its sudden and inexplicable dissipation only deepened the enigma for the storm guardians. They knew something supernatural had occurred, disrupting the natural order. This unexplained event heightened their vigilance as they moved to the next search phase, bracing for the unsettling truths that might lurk in the shadows.

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