Ashes Of Deep Sea-Chapter 372 - 376 Occupy
Chapter 372: Chapter 376: Occupy
Chapter 372: Chapter 376: Occupy
The sound of machinery echoed through the factory facility, with the roar of water rushing through the giant pipes, and the pungent smell of chemical reagents wafting in the air, nauseating to anyone who caught a whiff.
Agatha stood by the protective railing, peering down into the buffer pool below, where filthy liquid tumbled and churned within the vast reservoir, occasionally releasing bubbles and eerily colored glows like the stomach acid of some monstrous beast.
A management personnel with thinning hair and dressed in a light brown coat stood behind the young gatekeeper, his face etched with tension, one hand subconsciously tugging at the button on his chest.
“The drainage from Oak Street’s north district and the area around Cemetery No. 4 all converge here,” the manager said, eyeing the gatekeeper’s expression cautiously, as he cautiously reported, “After receiving the order, we cut off the surrounding pipe connections immediately and inspected every alarm device in each buffer pool. There are no signs of desecrated contamination…”
Agatha listened in silence, and after a while suddenly asked, “How is the sewage usually treated?”
“How is it treated?” The manager was taken aback, then quickly responded, “First, high-pressure steam is used to purify any possibly existing desecrated contamination—you know, the sewage has been in contact with humans and has flowed through dark pipes, it may inevitably become a carrier for certain things. After steam purification, there’s sedimentation and filtration; what you’re seeing is the sedimentation pool. Next comes a second steam purification, after which some water is recycled back into the factory, and the rest… is discharged into the ocean.”
Agatha nodded slightly, then asked again, “How long would it take for the sewage from Oak Street’s north district to reach here?”
“It depends on the situation, but generally no more than two hours,” the manager answered.
“And how long does the sewage stay here?”
“The water in the sedimentation pool is replaced every seventy-two hours,” the manager raised his hand, becoming increasingly nervous under the gatekeeper’s questions. While he wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, he still answered accurately, “The purification and inspection process have strict regulations; it won’t be shorter than this period.”
Agatha nodded again, her mind quickly calculating the timing of the “counterfeit incident” at the residence and the sewage treatment process timeline. Thoughtfully, she said, “That means if that thing really could escape through the drainage system, it should still be here…”
“Gatekeeper, Your Excellency,” the manager wiped his glistening forehead again, not able to hold back his curiosity any longer, “What exactly… happened? Could it be that there is contamination spreading through the drainage system?”
“Not ruling out that possibility,” Agatha glanced at the manager, then her gaze shifted to the black-clad guards collecting samples and inspecting equipment nearby, “but according to what we’ve detected so far, everything here is normal.”
“Yes,” the manager showed a somewhat forced smile, “Every part of this place has an alarm system, specifically to detect possible desecrated contamination. The treatment center also has three resident priests; they also check the water samples every day…”
“Resident priests?” Agatha seemed to suddenly think of something and turned her head, “You just said there are a few resident priests here?”
“Three… three,” perhaps it was Agatha’s tone that abruptly became somewhat frightening, and the manager instinctively stuttered a bit, “Is there a problem?”
“You can only have two priests here—there are strict regulations on the number of resident priests at municipal facilities; where did the third one come from?”
The manager’s expression froze instantly, and a layer of fine sweat became visible on his forehead as a look of nervous fear appeared in his eyes.
Seeing this, Agatha immediately raised her cane to rest on the man’s shoulder, suppressing the “fear” from his consciousness with force, while she said with a stern expression, “Listen, you must maintain Calmness—bring all the resident priests here. Tell them the gatekeeper needs to understand more about the situation, do not reveal any other emotions, understand?”
The manager’s mood quickly settled down somewhat, but he still retained a bit of nervousness, nodding hurriedly, “Yes, I understand… I’ll go right now.”
Agatha nodded, retracted her cane, but as the man was about to leave, she suddenly remembered something and quickly spoke, “Wait, not just the resident priests—bring everyone.”
The manager turned back, puzzled, “Everyone?”
“Everyone,” Agatha repeated gravely, then asked again to be sure, “Has anyone left this treatment center since yesterday?”
“No!” the manager promptly answered, “The order came just fifteen minutes before shift change; everyone who worked here stayed on.”
“Good, bring them all—say it’s a necessary inspection, stay relaxed, don’t arouse suspicion, go.”
The somewhat balding manager turned and walked away quickly, calming himself as he walked, while Agatha stood motionless by the buffer pool until she saw the man disappear behind a door not far away. She then raised her hand, signaling to the surrounding guards who had noticed the disturbance.
The nearby black-clad guards immediately started to act, placing concealed runes around the open space by the buffer pool, sprinkling oil and ground incense powder between paths and pipes, and taking up specific positions, maintaining the appearance of still inspecting the facilities.
Agatha, meanwhile, lifted her cane while the guards were in action, slowly tracing a triangle outline about two meters in side length around the area where she stood. She then positioned herself at the center of the triangle, resting her hands on her cane, and calmly waited.
Before long, footsteps could be heard approaching from the direction of the main entrance; the manager had returned to the factory housing the buffer pool, with a large group of people following behind him.
Among them were conspicuously visible three figures wearing the long robes of the Death Church and bearing holy insignia.
The dozen or so treatment center employees led by the manager approached Agatha, forming a loose queue, greeting the gatekeeper before them nervously, while the three resident priests approached from the side of the line, greeting Agatha with the internal etiquette and status of Death Church clergymen.
Agatha commanded the three priests to stand apart, then slowly scanned over all the faces.
She sensed something amiss.
Despite not seeing any suspicious expressions or behaviors, and not sensing any wrong aura, Bartok’s blessing had already confirmed the existence of dissonance—hidden in these people’s breaths, hidden in their heartbeats, and even hidden in the shadows they cast on the ground.
Agatha blinked her eyes, reconfirming that all she saw was normal, and thus her mind became clear.
Indeed, there was cognitive disruption—and even in the presence of herself, the “Guardian,” the cognitive disruption persisted.
Was it simply because of sheer audacity? Or because of ignorance of the Guardian’s power? Or… was the cognitive disruption uncontrollable?
Agatha slowly turned her head, her gaze falling on the three priests.
Leaving aside the dozen or so staff members for the moment, one of the three priests must be an impostor—but which one?
“By reciting the name of Bartok,” Agatha slowly said, “let the Master of Death watch over us so we may discern falsehood in this mortal world.”
“In the name of the Master of Death, Bartok,” a priest immediately began, “may He watch over us…”
Then the second and third priests also immediately spoke, “In the name of the Master of Death, Bartok…”
Three voices rose in succession, like echoes.
Agatha frowned.
Being able to recite the name of the god meant that they were not mud-formed “counterfeits” nor heretics of a divergent faith; otherwise, the intense conflict of faith would have been enough to shred their sanity.
But how could this be? All three priests were real?
Agatha’s thoughts flowed instantly, but her expression remained calm; she nodded to the three men: “Next, I need to perform some necessary tests, please understand.”
With that, she reached for her left eye—a living eyeball immediately popped out of its socket and accurately landed in her hand.
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Agatha held up the eyeball and “looked” towards the three opposing priests.
The figure of the first priest entered her sight—a gaunt old man in a linen robe, with chains black as ink extending from under his ribs. An Abyssal Hound at the end of the chain raised its head towards them, its mouth bubbling with blasphemous and filthy energy rapidly gathering and taking shape!
Heresy!
Daring to stand here so brazenly!
Agatha’s complexion shifted slightly, but she was well-prepared. At the moment the Abyssal Hound opened its massive jaws, she had already sidestepped, and her right hand lifted the staff, its tip blazing with pale flames.
However, just as she was about to ignite the heretic, another low and obscure incantation suddenly came from beside her.
Agatha’s left hand with the eyeball turned sharply, and the next second, she saw a young man with straw-yellow hair and a high bridge nose raising his hands towards her, with a grey-black, mist-formed jellyfish floating behind him.
That was the second “priest.”
Dizziness swept over her, and as Agatha steadied herself, she heard the third incantation.
A pale woman at the edge of her vision raised her hand towards her, with a cat formed of bones and mist crawling beside her.
That was the third priest.
All the priests were fakes.
Roaring and battle cries came from all directions.
At the moment when the three eradicators sprang to action, the surrounding guardians reacted and tried to support, but they too encountered their foes.
The staff members brought by the manager and the nearby black-clothed guardians engaged in fierce combat.
In the corner of Agatha’s eye, she could see those “staff members” breaking into viscous filth like mud upon being hit.
Only the thin-haired manager had dashed to the side of a nearby pipe, letting out a scream that was both helpless and panicked.
The entire sewage treatment center… had only one “human.”
