Deep Sea Embers Chapter 298: PTSD

Outside the hut, on the path leading to the morgue, the charred remains that barely retained a human outline still lay in place. Several church guardians were preparing to move the wreckage into wooden crates. Upon seeing the “gatekeeper” and the cemetery caretaker appear, they temporarily stopped their actions.

The gatekeeper, Agatha, pointed at the burnt remains, “What you saw yesterday should be him—of course, what remains here now is only a shell. The ‘visitor’ that once occupied this shell has indeed left.”

The old caretaker came to the side of the remains, looked down, and observed for a moment, then furrowed his brow slightly, “He is…”

“If I’m not mistaken, one of the four cultists disguised as priests last night,” Agatha said calmly, “This shell died due to the backlash of a symbiotic demon.”

The old caretaker remained silent with a serious expression, not knowing what he was pondering. Then two minutes later, he suddenly looked up and said, “The corpse you sent last night…”

Agatha nodded, raising her hand to point in another direction, “Over here, but its condition…is even more bizarre.”

Under the gatekeeper’s guidance, the old caretaker arrived at an empty space at the edge of the morgue, where processed “samples” and other key evidence to be sent back to the cathedral were stored.

The old caretaker stared in astonishment at what Agatha pointed out to him.

It was a collection of large and small…glass jars.

“You mean…this is the corpse you sent yesterday? The ‘restless one’ who chatted with me in the coffin for half the night?” The old man stared at the jars for a long time before finally turning his head to look at Agatha suspiciously, “Just a night before, he could even energetically knock on the coffin!”

“Yes, but when the guardians found these things, we could only use shovels to collect them and then put them in jars as much as possible. Their remaining outline and location can only prove that this is indeed the deceased we sent to the cemetery last night,” Agatha shook her head, “As you can see, a semi-solid…sludge, barely retaining traces of biological tissue. Even those remaining traces are rapidly turning into sludge-like substances as time goes by.”

She paused, pointing to one of the largest jars.

“There were a few bones in here originally, but now there is only this strange, viscous substance.”

The old caretaker frowned, staring intently at the bizarre material in the glass jars.

Those dark red, mixed with black and gray substances, resembled the mud at the bottom of the water.

If it wasn’t for knowing that the “gatekeeper” would not deceive him, he could not associate these things with the “restless one” who chatted in the coffin yesterday in any way.

“Alright, the dead have turned into sludge, and strange things always happen together,” the old caretaker finally sighed, “At this point, how should I explain all this to the deceased’s family? They will come to the cemetery to say goodbye to their loved ones. Am I supposed to tell them that a few Annihilators snuck in yesterday to cause trouble? That there was something like a subspace shadow visiting, so their family member somehow turned into a few jars of liquid?”

“Oh, you don’t need to worry about that; their family won’t bother you,” Agatha said emotionlessly, shaking her head. “They have already completed the farewell ceremony in the neighboring Cemetery No. 4. The miner who died from the fall will be sent to the furnace as scheduled.”

The old caretaker blinked, his expression suddenly turning serious, “You deceived the deceased’s family with a different body?”

“We haven’t stooped that low,” Agatha replied lightly.

“Then…”

“We found another body—today at noon, a worker who died from a fall was found in the shaft. He looked exactly like the corpse we sent here last night.”

The old caretaker stared wide-eyed, his expression slightly stiff.

After a while, he suddenly came to his senses and instinctively turned his head to look at the simple coffin on the platform not far away—the coffin that had been sent to the cemetery last night.

Then he looked back at the eerie glass jars in the sample storage area.

“…In the name of the God of Death, what on earth did you bring here yesterday?”

“We will investigate,” Agatha said, her face showing a rare hint of seriousness, “Now, the only thing that is certain is that the body sent to Cemetery No. 4 should be the ‘real’ one. It didn’t show any agitation nor did it collapse and dissolve, while the body we sent here last night… was tampered with by supernatural forces.”

The old caretaker didn’t speak for a while, seemingly deep in thought. At that moment, a black-clothed church guardian suddenly approached from another path and came directly to Agatha.

The church guardian quickly reported something to Agatha in a low voice, then handed over a thick piece of paper.

Agatha glanced at the paper’s contents, showing no change in expression, and nodded slightly, “Understood.”

“What happened?” The old caretaker casually asked.

“Do you remember those four heretics who entered your cemetery yesterday?” Agatha raised her head, handing the paper directly to the old man, “You killed two, one turned into charred remains outside your hut, and now we have found the whereabouts of the last Annihilator.”

The old caretaker took the paper and saw that it was a photograph.

On a cement floor somewhere, there was a pile of sludge that could barely be recognized as human, with clear signs of charring—just like the charred remains at the entrance of his hut.

Obviously, it was the backlash after the symbiotic relationship with the demon was severed.

“It’s that woman…” The old caretaker frowned, looking up at Agatha, “She’s dead? How did she die? Where?”

“Two blocks away, in broad daylight, this pile of sludge suddenly fell at a crossroad,” Agatha said, “Along with it, there was an obviously out-of-control death crow—that demon lasted only a few seconds in the real world before it collapsed and disappeared. Bystanders at the scene reported the incident to the security officer.”

The old caretaker thought for a moment and shook his head gently, “I’m not an expert in this field; just tell me your opinion directly.”

“My opinion is that this heretic probably saw the same ‘visitor’ you saw last night. The eyes of a demon are more likely to see the ‘truth’, so her death crow went mad, and in its madness, took its master into the depths of the demon’s realm,” Agatha calmly analyzed. “Judging from the aftermath, this heretic was torn apart by other demons before being backlashed by the symbiotic contract, which is a typical characteristic of falling unprotected into the depths of the demon realm.”

The “gatekeeper” finished speaking calmly and took a deep breath, her gaze staring into the old caretaker’s eyes.

“I feel… there’s something watching over this city. The days ahead may not be peaceful.”

…

Duncan arrived at the dining room before evening.

Although he didn’t know when it started, the place seems to have unconsciously become a gathering place for the crew during their leisure time.

As soon as Duncan entered, he saw Morris correcting Nina’s homework while Nina was supervising Shirley, Dog, and Alice’s spelling at another nearby table.

Meanwhile, Vanna sat near the window, carefully reading a church book.

The atmosphere seemed quite good.

“A letter from your wife,” Duncan went straight to Morris and handed him a letter.

“From Mary?” Morris stopped correcting the homework, somewhat surprised as he looked at the letter handed over by the captain. He then took out a letter opener he carried with him, mumbling as he opened the envelope, “I said in the letter that there was no need to rush a reply.”

“Anyway, the ‘postage’ only costs a few fries,” Duncan said with a smile, “Take a look at what’s written inside. Maybe it’s urgent.”

Morris nodded, took out the letter paper, and glanced at it quickly before frowning involuntarily.

“What does the letter say?” Duncan asked curiously but added, “You don’t have to say if it’s private.”

“…Scott Brown’s second letter arrived, only three days apart from the first one,” Morris didn’t hide it but spoke with a strange tone, “His mental state in the letter is obviously not quite right. Mary was worried that the letter carried unclean things, so she burned the original but recounted the contents of the letter—Brown urged me nervously and anxiously not to approach Frost.”

“…It seems that your friend has noticed some truth,” Duncan said thoughtfully after listening, “Unfortunately, my investigation of Frost didn’t go smoothly, and I couldn’t find out about your friend.”

“Ah? You went to Frost to investigate?” Morris was suddenly surprised, unable to help but exclaim, “When did you go?”

“Just last night,” Duncan didn’t hide it, as they were all among his own people, “I borrowed a body. Unfortunately, I couldn’t find out much information. It wasn’t this troublesome last time in Pland.”

As soon as his voice fell, there was a sudden plop from not far away.

Duncan and Morris both looked in the direction of the sound and saw that Vanna’s book had fallen to the floor.

The expression on Miss Inquisitor’s face was somewhat strange, causing Morris to grow worried from his end: “… Vanna, are you alright?”

“She’s fine,” Duncan waved his hand and answered for Vanna, “She just has a bit of PTSD.”