Chapter 448

Chapter 448: .

The room in the Security Bureau was very warm, and the lights were bright. Even with the city in its current chaos, this place still looked neat and orderly—and they even had tea and coffee.

“Name?”

“Lawrence Creed.”

“Occupation?”

“Captain. Captain of the White Oak.”

“Affiliated guild?”

“The Explorer Association. I have full senior Explorer qualifications, including history, occult studies, and certificates in navigation and related fields. And… uh, that’s it.”

“Reason for coming to Frostholm?”

Lawrence looked up at the bright electric light above, thought for a few seconds, and said: “Honestly, I first came to deliver cargo… the shipment your city’s Cathedral ordered.”

The young clerk sitting across the table scribbled on the paper, then looked up after a few quick strokes. With a friendly yet obviously nervous smile, he said: “All right, I’ve written it down. Please don’t mind, it’s just routine. After all, if you come here, we have to leave some record. Frostholm thanks you for your help—would you like another sugar cube?”

“Ah, no need, thank you.” Lawrence waved his hand a bit awkwardly, picked up the coffee cup and took a sip. But since he was still in the Ghost state, he could taste nothing and feel no warmth or cold. So he set the cup down again and turned to glance behind him.

The sailors wreathed in Ghost flames sat in a row on the chairs in the back half of the room. These rough fellows had almost emptied all the tea and snacks the office had prepared. They did not mind at all that taste was numb in spirit form. They were eating purely on the principle that, since they had come all this way, they could not leave at a loss.

They showed none of the nervousness one should have after being “invited” into the Security Bureau for disturbing the peace. Of course, that was normal. After all, his group had indeed been “invited” in by the constables in a very polite, even slightly tense and reverent way.

Thinking of this, Lawrence could not help feeling another wave of embarrassment. But with his face wrapped in flame, others probably could not see his expression.

“I heard that at first you were in the Cathedral district helping the Gatekeeper. Why were you wandering all over the Upper City afterward? And why did you… cause such a big commotion?”

The young clerk in charge of registration across the table asked, curious and cautious.

“It was just some… small accidents,” Lawrence said, with a hint of shame in his tone as he tried hard to find a way to explain the messy situation. How was he supposed to explain it? Say straight out that after leading a band of sailors in a big brawl, they still had energy to burn, so they decided to stroll around the city and buy some local specialties to take back to Pland? And then, because the Ghost fire was hard to control, the flames they had finally managed to suppress somehow flared up again when the Sun rose?

That really had been literally “flared up”—they were walking at a crossroads, in full view of everyone, when they suddenly caught fire.

Anomaly 077, who had been wrapped in a robe and well hidden in the middle of the group, was so startled that he bolted straight out from among the sailors onto the sidewalk.

The result was that in five minutes they drew constable teams from three streets over. Men, women, and children all through the Upper City were running around reporting them.

Lawrence thought for a long time and decided he really could not say the truth. Mainly, if he just started talking, he might end up “ruining the good name of the Lost Home Fleet”—and though the Lost Home Fleet did not seem to have much of a good name in the mortal world anyway, it should at least not be that kind of reputation.

So he could only give another awkward smile and fob it off: “We were very curious about this city and, for a moment, forgot to hide our tracks…”

The crackling bang of flames suddenly sounded. Lawrence casually slapped the green tongues of fire on his arm, checked whether the armrest of the chair had been scorched by the spirit flame, and, once he was sure it was fine, looked up again. He kept watching the young man across from him with a sincere smile.

“…Could you please put out this awful fire for a moment?”

“I’m trying—though it might not look like I’m trying very hard.”

“…Thank you for your cooperation. You can wait here for a bit. I still have a few questions for your… subordinates.”

The young clerk wiped the cold sweat from his forehead and worked hard to keep his calm, friendly expression. Then he took a deep breath and turned his head toward another figure beside the table—a fellow who was also waiting for “routine procedures” and who looked suspicious no matter how you saw him.

It was a shriveled, terrifying mummified corpse, wearing an Old Era sailor’s smock and a seafarer’s cap that did not quite fit.

Noticing the gaze fall on him, the mummified corpse immediately lifted his head. A ghastly smile spread across his face. “Questioning? I know how that works. Go ahead, go ahead.”

“Uh… all right,” the clerk said, wiping the cold sweat on his forehead again. In his heart he was cursing the supervisor who had scheduled him for duty here today and envying his colleagues who were out on street patrol, while he tried hard to keep his voice steady. “Name?”

“‘Sailor.’ That’s what I’m called,” the mummified corpse answered at once.

“Sai… uh, fine. Occupation?”

“Anomaly.”

The clerk raised his head in a daze. “Huh?”

“Anomaly,” the mummified corpse said honestly, pointing at his own shriveled head. “Or, more precisely, Anomaly 077.”

The clerk seemed to turn into a statue. A few seconds later, the distinct sound of a gulp finally reached Lawrence’s ears.

“Ahem, there’s a very complicated reason for that,” Lawrence coughed twice. His voice finally snapped the clerk out of his near mental blank. “Don’t worry. When the person in charge of your Church gets here, I’ll find a way to explain it all properly and get it recorded.”

Even listening to the old captain, the clerk still seemed lost. His expression shifted quickly several times before he opened his mouth, as if to say something. But before he could speak, a gust of wind wrapped in pale dust suddenly swept through the office—

The Ashen Wind swirled, and from within it stepped a blind Goddess official in a black long dress. A slightly airy, hoarse female voice followed: “I am here.”

The clerk, whose nerves were stretched almost to breaking and whose sanity was starting to waver, suddenly seemed to grab a lifeline. He almost sprang up from his chair. “Ah, Lady Agatha! You’re finally here! The situation here is a bit…”

“I know. The situation is complicated, so I came to handle it myself,” Agatha said, cutting off the unlucky clerk with a wave of her hand. Then she turned to Lawrence. Her pale lips curled slightly, though there was something odd in her tone. “I thought you had already left.”

“We were planning to leave…” Lawrence gave a dry laugh, but the tense strings inside him still loosened a little. No matter what, he and this Gatekeeper before him had fought side by side. The whole process had been full of chaos, weirdness, eldritch things, and countless unexpected twists, but at least one thing was certain: they were “the same kind of people.”

Agatha on the opposite side also seemed to relax a little. She waved to the clerk beside her, signaling that he could go. The young man looked as if he had been granted amnesty and fled from the sparsely populated office as fast as he could.

Then Agatha sighed again, full of helplessness and fatigue. After signaling Captain Lawrence and his people to stay calm, she focused her mind and said inwardly: “I’ve found them. They’re all here at the Security Bureau… The situation? Very good, and their appetites look very good as well… Yes, I understand. We’ll handle the follow-up… Don’t worry. They haven’t actually caused much trouble, just stirred up a bit of citizen panic. You know, everyone’s nerves are pretty tight right now…

“There’s one more thing to report. There’s a runaway state Anomaly… yes, a runaway state Anomaly, number 077, name ‘Sailor’. This mummified corpse has been acting together with them…

“You want them to come to you? Understood—it’s Oak Street… ah, all right, I understand.”

After a long while, Agatha finally let out a small breath and lifted her head to “look” at Captain Lawrence.

Even with the black cloth over her eyes, it still felt as if a solid gaze pierced the thick bandage, making the old captain feel a bit of pressure.

He gradually realized what was happening. “You were talking to ‘Him’ just now?”

“Yes. And He has given orders,” Agatha nodded, her expression turning serious. “He wants you to go see Him.”

“Go see Him?” Lawrence’s heart gave a jolt, and a trace of tension slipped into his voice. “You mean…”

“The Vanished is currently waiting in the waters off Frostholm. Captain Tyrian will tell you the general location. The Sea Mist and your White Oak are moored in the same harbor right now; you’ll see them as soon as you reach the docks,” Agatha said calmly. “Go out to sea to find Him. Don’t worry about missing Him. When you get close, your ship will know what to do. Just let it sail on its own.”

Lawrence swallowed unconsciously and looked at the sailors he had brought. They all stood up, every gaze showing clear tension.

Then he turned his head and saw Anomaly 077 already sprawled on the floor, inching his way toward the door.

A few sailors rushed over and, ignoring the mummified corpse’s violent struggling, dragged him back.

Lawrence slowly pulled his gaze away from that little chaos and looked uneasily at Agatha in front of him.

“Did He… say what He wants us for?”

“No. But He said it’s just a friendly invitation and that you shouldn’t be too nervous…”

As soon as she finished, before Lawrence could speak, Anomaly 077 burst out howling and thrashing under the sailors’ grip: “I! Don’t! Believe!! It!!”

“Make him shut up,” Lawrence shouted over his shoulder. Then he took several deep breaths, forcing himself to calm down before giving Agatha a slight nod. “I understand. I will go to the meeting.”

“Relax. You really don’t need to be so tense,” Agatha said with a smile. “Honestly… He’s far more gentle and friendly than anyone imagines.”

“I know,” Lawrence said with a wry spread of his hands. “But tension isn’t something you can just get rid of. I guess that will only change after we keep the appointment and actually meet ‘Him’ face to face.”

“In any case, I wish you all the best,” Agatha nodded slightly, then casually asked, “Is there anything else? Frostholm is in a bad state right now, but as long as it’s something I can do, I’ll try my best to help.”

When Lawrence heard that, he actually looked thoughtful. Then he reached into his coat to feel around.

A moment later, he pulled out a sheet of paper that looked faintly translucent, burned thin by spirit form flames, and handed it to Agatha.

“What is this?”

“It’s the cargo list—the shipment your Cathedral ordered. We’ve already delivered everything to the harbor,” Lawrence said, with a hint of hesitation in his tone. “Can… this bill still be settled?”

Agatha froze on the spot.

The Gatekeeper of the city-state of Frostholm, the temporary Archbishop, the Envoy of the Flame Usurper, the firm and clever Lady Agatha—had truly not seen this coming.

After more than ten seconds of silence, this “Blind Nun” finally nodded, speaking as if through clenched teeth. “…We’ll settle it.”