Chapter 170

Chapter 170: Loosening.

After a long time, Vanna finally pulled her gaze back from the car window.

Her main purpose in coming here today was to investigate that small cathedral, but after she entered the Sixth District, she already felt that the atmosphere of the whole area was not quite right. It made her faintly feel… that maybe every inch of this neighborhood needed to be investigated.

After thinking for a moment, she reached out and picked up a thick stack of papers from the seat beside her.

She had requested these files from City Hall before this operation. Using her authority as an Inquisitor and the relevant articles in the Special Execution Regulations for Anomaly Cases, she had obtained all the municipal records related to the Sixth District from the past few years. On the way here, she had already read part of them.

These documents from City Hall were not top secret, nor did they involve any high?level supernatural case, cold case, or major case. On the contrary, what Vanna had asked for was the simplest, most basic kind of information—

Gas meter readings, electricity payments, shop taxes, water supply, heating, garbage collection, security patrols…

Pages rustled as Vanna’s eyes swept quickly over the documents.

If the past few years as an Inquisitor had taught her any “case?handling experience”, one rule was absolutely vital—

The faint traces of supernatural Visions were often hidden in the most ordinary scenes of everyday life.

The Boundless Sea watched on all sides. Anomalies and Visions filled the Mortal Realm. Under the gaze of these things that threatened all living beings, the peaceful “daily life” inside the city?states was the greatest treasure in this world. The ordinary people of Pland might have already taken their peaceful days for granted, but those warriors who fought Anomalies and Visions year after year knew very well—

A shaft of sunlight in the morning, a hot meal on the table, a hawker calling on the street, and a good?night said before sleep—these were all unbroken chains of sacred miracles.

They were the grand scene Mortals had spent ten thousand years building in this crumbling world.

Any disturbance from an supernatural Vision would leave a scratch on that scene.

The Guardian at the wheel spoke from the front of the car. This young Church warrior had noticed the slight frown on Vanna’s face and asked: “Did you find something wrong? Are the municipal records missing?”

“On the contrary. All the municipal records are complete,” Vanna shook her head lightly. “The water, power, gas, heating, and sewage logs are all here, and they all stay at very even values—suspiciously reasonable.”

“Then your expression…”

“There are no public security cases,” Vanna lifted her eyelids slightly. “The section for public security is completely blank. Also, the records of newborns are blank, and the records of resident deaths are blank as well.”

The Guardian driving widened his eyes a little. In the rearview mirror, Vanna could see the look of disbelief on the young man’s face.

“A clear Anomaly, isn’t it,” Vanna said softly. “One neighborhood, all these years. The population neither rises nor falls. No public security cases at all, not even a single fistfight. Even the safest part of the Upper City can’t reach that level. Yet all the water, power, gas, and heating records are there. It feels as if…”

She paused and looked out the window: “As if all the residents here are a herd of tame phantoms… They live quietly inside this fenced?off place, neither increasing nor decreasing. There is no conflict inside, no contact with the outside. They only go on calmly consuming resources, sending a regular signal back to City Hall that says, ‘Everything is normal here.’ And yet, even though it is so wrong, no one has paid attention to it for so many years.”

The car fell silent. Only the dull sound of the steam core running could be heard. After an unknown time, Vanna suddenly felt the car jolt.

“We’ve arrived at the small cathedral.”

Vanna raised her head and saw, right outside the car window, the community cathedral that had somehow slipped out of the “view” of the main cathedral.

From the outside, it looked as if it had been abandoned for more than ten years.

This was the place that terrifying ghost captain had pointed out to her.

In her mind, she could not help seeing again those burning ghostly flames and that gloomy, majestic figure frozen at the center of her vision. In the next second, she took a deep breath, softly recited the holy name of the Storm Goddess Gamona F, picked up her weapon, pushed the door open, and stepped out of the car.

A bleak, cold wind blew from the end of the street, lifting the dry fallen leaves by the roadside. The black?clad Guardians followed beside the Inquisitor, cautiously closing in on the abandoned small cathedral.

The fallen leaves cracked softly underfoot, sounding like fire burning rotten wood, crackling and popping.

Suddenly the sound of flapping wings came from above. Amid the swirling leaves, Vanna looked up and saw a White Dove flutter down and land on the cathedral’s spire.

The dove tilted its head, as if curiously casting a gaze on the Guardians spreading out around the area.

“A White Dove… a good omen for calm seas…” For some reason, this odd thought flashed through Vanna’s mind. Then she ignored the dove that had suddenly flown in, stepped forward, and gently pushed open the half?closed doors of the small cathedral.

Warm, bright light filled her vision. A Nun with a gentle smile on her face appeared before her.

“Hello, Sister. It has been a long time since anyone came to this cathedral…”

The Nun’s soft voice reached the ears of the Guardian warriors.

…

One gas lamp after another stood in neat rows between the shelves. Their bright light drove away the Shadows among the ancient files. Heavy, slow footsteps echoed between the shelves, mixed with the old priest’s low muttering:

“Row seven, column six, row seven, column six… The records for 1885 should be here… they should be here…”

The old priest stopped in front of the shelf. He looked up and saw the shelf towering over him like a giant, silently gazing down. The files that carried the city?state’s memories of history were arranged neatly in the giant’s bones and flesh.

His gaze fell on several of the folders, and he slowly reached out his hand.

His brass clockwork prosthetic gave off a slightly rusty, grinding sound as it moved.

“Finally found it!” The old priest’s eyes suddenly lit up, and he could not hide the excitement in his voice. “So it was hidden here… We searched for so long before, when I was looking together with Inquisitor Vanna!”

His fingers touched those few files.

Heavy, slow footsteps echoed between the shelves, mixed with the old priest’s low muttering: “Row seven, column six, row seven, column six…”

“Finally found it!” The old priest’s eyes suddenly lit up. He reached toward those files. His brass clockwork prosthetic creaked with a rusty grinding noise. “So it was hidden here. We looked for it for so long before, when I searched together with the Inquisitor!”

His fingers were just about to touch those files.

Heavy, slow footsteps echoed between the shelves.

…

The old priest suddenly stopped walking.

He lifted his head, his neck stiff as if it had rusted. He quietly cast his gaze over the huge shelves stretching out in neat rows ahead. One gas lamp after another burned between them, and the pillars carved with wave patterns stood silently among the shelves.

A gentle sound of waves suddenly rose in his heart, making the old man’s cloudy mind clear for a moment.

“The archive’s wards have been activated? Who activated them? Why? Was it me? When did I activate these wards? What am I doing here?”

The old priest shivered, and instinctively reached for the large?caliber revolver at his waist. The next second, he noticed something strange about his body.

The arm that had once moved so freely had somehow become stiff and heavy. The screech of grinding parts sounded like a pile of scrap metal that had been left to rust for years, crushing against itself.

Startled, he looked at the arm that had been replaced with a brass clockwork prosthetic, and saw only a limb covered in patches of rust. Verdigris and foul fluid seeped from the metal seams and stained the whole arm. As his gaze moved down, he saw his tattered clothes and a left leg that kept leaking black machine oil.

It was as if he had been trudging through this archive for years.

The old priest stared blankly at the marks on his body. The memories that had been sealed away finally loosened a little. He suddenly remembered many things, so distant they felt like they had happened in a past life—an Inquisitor visiting, investigating records, strange logs of Heretic worship, entire years that had vanished…

Then the Inquisitor had left the archive, while he stayed behind to keep searching for the missing records of 1885…

The gentle sound of waves rose again, clearer than before, yet still as if it came through a thick Veil, from another time and space.

But that distant, hazy sound of waves made the old priest’s mind even clearer than before. As his memories loosened, his reason and judgment rushed back. In the next second, he realized what might be happening.

A vast Vision—not some single Anomaly, not a single malicious supernatural being, not a mastermind hiding behind the scenes, nor one isolated supernatural phenomenon, but a vast, all?encompassing Vision!

The city?state of Pland was right at the center of this gigantic Vision!

“This is bad!”

The old priest cried out and turned, dragging his no?longer?nimble body as he ran toward his post.

The next second, he forced himself to a halt.

A strange black figure had appeared in the archive without him knowing when.

Inside this enclosed room, that eerie figure was holding a bizarre Black Parasol, as if to block some sunlight that was nowhere to be seen.