Ashes Of Deep Sea-Chapter 375 - 379 Confronting the Madman

Chapter 375: Chapter 379: Confronting the Madman

Chapter 375: Chapter 379: Confronting the Madman

Agatha walked along the cold, deserted streets, where the familiar sights of the City-State now seemed suffused with a silent, eerie atmosphere. Among the shadows of the surrounding buildings and behind the tightly shut doors and windows, it seemed as if pairs of prying eyes were hidden everywhere.

She was searching for an exit from this “alien domain,” or for the culprit responsible for her being trapped here.

Every discordant spot could potentially be a rift overlapping with the real world, yet so far, she had not found such a fissure in the mysterious “Frost City-State.”

The only thing she was certain of was that she had touched the everlasting shadow enveloping the City-State—whether by accident or deliberately orchestrated by someone behind the scenes, she had successfully crossed the “barrier” that had always obscured her vision.

This place, vaguely resembling Frost but not quite the same, must be the source of the strange occurrences frequently happening in the City-State lately.

The sound of wheels rolling over cobblestone streets traveled from afar, faint bell sounds and the noise of doors opening and closing drifted into her ears.

Agatha looked up towards the direction of the sounds but could only see an empty street—however, further off, she indeed saw shadows resembling carriages fleeting across the intersections, and figures that looked like pedestrians hurrying past those junctions.

There were “people” in this city, but often, all she could see were distant phantoms. She could hear the voices of residents, yet often couldn’t precisely locate the source of the sounds.

It felt like a bizarre, distorted dreamscape.

Agatha’s figure passed through another intersection, then stopped amidst the shadows of the buildings.

Blind exploration was merely a waste of energy and time; she needed to cautiously assess her surroundings.

She closed her eyes, allowing her senses to spread outwards, carefully discerning various details in the environment—sounds, scents, the direction of the wind, and… the warmth of living beings.

After a moment, Agatha looked up in a certain direction and took steps toward it—her eyes still closed, yet she skillfully avoided all obstacles on the road, navigating through alleys, passing numerous intersections and lanes until, after an unknown length of time, she stopped in front of a building on a street corner.

Agatha opened her eyes to see a small restaurant in front of her, with bright lights inside and the lively sound of people.

The voices were clear, carrying the essence of living humans.

Agatha steadied herself and pushed open the large door of the restaurant.

A crisp bell rang as the door opened, and the scene inside the restaurant unfolded before Agatha—it was a moment that made her somewhat bewildered, even doubting whether she had left the strange “alien domain” and returned to the normal real world.

The restaurant was brightly lit, with diners at the tables and staff bustling between tables and counters; a clerk was busy behind the counter. Sounds of cutlery clinking against dishes filled her ears, along with conversations about the weather, work, and prices. The grim chill of the street outside seemed swept away by this lively “mundane scene.”

However, the next second, Agatha spotted an obvious discrepancy—although the diners were sitting at the tables, their plates and cups were empty. Despite the clerk’s busyness behind the counter, he was only pacing back and forth, repeatedly wiping the same cup.

Everyone acted like Magic Dolls programmed with routines, perfectly mimicking the actions of normal human life, but… their imitation was too precise.

Agatha frowned. Upon realizing the truth, the atmosphere here felt even more eerie than the empty streets outside, but instead of turning to leave, she stepped further into the restaurant.

The more bizarre the place, the more it indicated she was on the right track.

As Agatha took her first step inside, the lively chatter in the restaurant suddenly ceased.

All the patrons conversing simultaneously closed their mouths, but various expressions from their discussions still lingered on their faces, and they maintained their dining gestures—within the vast space, after the disappearance of human voices, all that was left was the monotonous sound of cups and cutlery clinking.

With Agatha’s second step, the sounds of the cups and cutlery clinking also vanished—everyone in the restaurant stopped their movements as if their energy sources had suddenly been cut off, freezing next to their square tables.

As Agatha took her third step forward, everybody in the restaurant put down their cutlery, rose from their seats like zombies, turned their heads expressionlessly, and stared blankly at her with dozens of hollow gazes.

Agatha looked towards the counter; the clerk who had been persistently wiping the same glass finally stopped. Unlike the zombie-like, vacant stiffness of the surrounding “patrons,” this clerk slowly lifted his head and looked at Agatha with a faint smile.

The smile was even somewhat friendly.

“Hello, Gatekeeper Miss,” the clerk spoke. He was a young man with golden short hair and a decent appearance, wearing a pristine white shirt and a black jacket, speaking politely as if he truly were receiving a guest. “I’m delighted you could visit us. What do you think of this delightful city?”

“It seems you are the mastermind behind all this,” Agatha said calmly as she stared at the golden-haired “clerk,” “It was easier to find you than I had imagined.”

“It might not be as easy as you think,” the young man with golden hair laughed, “What would you like? Tainted dirty water? Or bread made of mud? Or perhaps… an empty bowl? We have plenty of those.”

Agatha showed no intention of responding and merely waved her wand in the air casually.

Behind the counter, the young man with golden hair was instantly engulfed by pale flames that emerged out of nowhere, and that skin of his nearly turned to ashes within a few breaths under the Gatekeeper’s “Cremation” ability, leaving only grayish-white ash drifting with the wind and settling on the counter.

However, Agatha’s expression did not change at all because she sensed before the flames ignited that the young man had already lacked the breath of a living person.

A strange, viscous moving noise came from the side; Agatha turned her head and saw a “patron” who had been standing rigidly near a table suddenly begin to tremble all over. In the next second, the person’s body melted like wax, and black sludge moved and reshaped on its surface, transforming the patron within a few breaths into a golden-haired young man in a white shirt and black jacket.

“That’s quite an unfriendly way to greet someone,” the golden-haired young man dusted off his clothing with a somewhat helpless look at Agatha, “Gatekeeper Miss, you surely don’t think that would be enough to handle me—do you really think I would expose my real body in such a dangerous place?”

“I know you aren’t here,” Agatha said expressionlessly, “but at least this will keep you quiet for a while.”

“Alright, alright, it seems you are not in the mood for conversation—you are a boring woman. Compared to you, Professor Melson was much more interesting towards the end,” the golden-haired young man shrugged his shoulders, “But no matter, as long as you stay here for a while, I don’t mind having a boring prisoner.”

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At the mention of “Professor Melson,” Agatha’s expression slightly changed as she recalled the vanished Dagger Island and the series of explosions that occurred on the island just before it disappeared, mentioned in the reports—and then she noticed the intelligence revealed in his last few statements.

“What do you mean by your last few words?” she asked, looking at the golden-haired young man with a cold voice.

“Nothing much, just asking you to stay here as a guest for a while,” the golden-haired young man laughed cheerfully, “You don’t need to worry about the ‘above’ situation—soon, another you will return there, she will gather the guardians like you do and then prepare a report based on the actual situation at the sewage treatment center…

“Rest assured, she will report faithfully, including the pollution the treatment center suffered and the replacement of personnel, then she will return to the cathedral and report as usual, talk with Bishop Ivan, afterward, she will patrol the City-State, continue dealing with various issues in the city, and pursue the investigations you failed to complete… everything will be taken care of.”

Agatha’s face turned utterly cold, and she stared intently at the golden-haired youth: “You’ve even created a ‘replica’ of a Gatekeeper?!”

“Is that so difficult?” The golden-haired young man slowly subdued his smile, looking at Agatha sarcastically, “Of course, she doesn’t possess your power, but besides that, she’s flawless, even more perfect than any replica before—do you know how perfect she is? She… doesn’t even know she’s fake.”

Agatha’s face was frosty, her knuckles turning slightly white as she griped her wand: “A replica won’t fool the cathedral—there are countless keen eyes there.”

“Countless keen eyes—mortal eyes, you overestimate your colleagues too much,” the golden-haired young man calmly met Agatha’s icy gaze, speaking unhurriedly, “And speaking of replicas… do you really think there’s any difference between you and others, and the ‘replicas’ you speak of?”

He laughed again, slowly raising his hands as if a preacher revealing the truth of the world: “Gatekeeper Miss, from the beginning there were no replicas, or rather… we are all replicas, that’s the truth.”