Translator: Atlas Studios Editor: Atlas Studios
North Borough, Aulka Street.
Kapusky Reid was sitting in a reclining chair in his activity room, lost in thought. In front of him was a fireplace burning with charcoal.
As a senior educator at a public school, he received a salary of more than four pounds a week, which was enough for a bachelor like him to live quite well, but the clothes he wore at home were patched up, and the teacups on the table looked extremely simple.
Without taking off his wig, the most striking thing about Kapusky was his high cheekbones and puffed-up chest—a deformity in which the sternum protruded outwards.
On his knee was a book of poems in ancient Feysac, but he hadn’t flipped a single page even after some time had passed.
Kapusky’s eyes were unfocused as he stared blankly when he suddenly heard a light chuckle in his ear.
“I’m very curious as to why you didn’t run and chose to remain at home. Aren’t you afraid of the police coming for you?”
The voice was low and hoarse, like a boy whose voice was cracking during puberty.
Kapusky shuddered and almost jumped out of his reclining chair.
He abruptly turned his head to look and saw that there was a figure sitting on the sofa a few steps away from him!
The figure wore summer wear—a linen shirt and light trousers. Its face was hazy and indistinct.
“Wh-who are you? What are you doing here?” Kapusky asked immediately as he gripped the armrest.
Klein, who had used his hallucination powers, leaned back, crossed his hands, and leisurely said, “Just last night, heh, it should be earlier this morning, I saved all of you.”
“Saved us?” Kapusky relaxed a little when he realized that the intruder didn’t seem to mean any harm. “Y-you’re that person in the forest? You took care of the corpse we awakened?”
As he spoke, he moved awkwardly, showing obvious fear.
He was able to infiltrate without me realizing it while I was awake. I definitely wouldn’t be able to resist… Such thoughts quickly flashed through Kapusky’s mind.
“You guys are quite lucky that I happened to pass by; otherwise, there would only be corpses left strewn on the ground in the forest—corpses that would’ve been bitten to shreds.” Klein laughed. “Answer my previous question, I’m very curious why you stayed at home. Do you know what crimes you’ve committed?”
From the way that he had conducted the resurrection ritual and the reaction he had before and after the ritual, Klein had confirmed that Kapusky was a rookie who didn’t have the means to hide his true emotions. Therefore, he intended to only use Spirit Vision and interrogation to get to the bottom of the matter. At most, he would verify it with divination at the end.
“I-I know, secretly buying corpses and robbing corpses from tombs. These are all crimes that can land me in jail for more than ten years. Moreover, I’ll definitely be punished by the Church.” Kapusky, who didn’t look thirty, drew a breath and said with a wry smile, “However, as long as I didn’t cause too much trouble, those children and their parents wouldn’t snitch on me because they also did the same thing. Even if they wanted to get a lighter sentence by helping the investigation by turning themselves in, they would still end up in jail for some time.”
“Heh.” Kapusky gave a self-deprecating laugh. “Some of the children have already told their parents who I am. They’ve gotten gangsters to warn me to resign within a week and stay away from school. I agreed.”
Klein gently nodded his head.
“It’s a good thing to change environments. Of course, don’t do similar things again. Bewitching ignorant children to commit crimes is a heinous act.”
“I won’t, never again. I never imagined that it would be that dangerous. I just saw that they had the same interests as I did which was why I wanted to teach them and lead them to search for the secrets of immortality. As for digging graves, many doctors did it a long time ago.” Kapusky sighed with some lingering fear.
The color of his emotions matches his current state of mind… From the sound of it, he doesn’t seem to be a member of the Numinous Episcopate… Klein thought for a moment, then he bluntly asked, “Where did you learn the Spirit Dance from?”
“Spirit Dance? Ah, I usually call it the Dance of Death.” Kapusky was taken aback at first before he came to a realization. “An old gentleman taught it to me.”
“An old gentleman?” Klein pressed.
Kapusky’s mind turned adrift as he recalled his memories.
“He was a vagabond. He fainted in front of my house because of a serious illness.
“At the time, I didn’t know that he was ill. I thought he had simply fallen unconscious, so I helped him home. I gave him a heated towel and applied some ointment for him.
“After he woke up, he told me not to send him to a hospital or clinic and that death was not the end.
“I experienced the deaths of my parents and several relatives and was very interested in such things. So, I chatted with him and found out that he had profound knowledge and an admirable philosophy in this area. He seemed to be very satisfied with my curiosity and even performed a miracle of killing a mosquito and waking it up.”
This introduction… I’ve read at least ten novels with similar openings in my previous life. They were all novels about bringing an old grandpa, who was on the brink of death, home out of kindness, only to have a fortuitous encounter… Klein’s mouth twitched.
“So, you left him at home?”
Kapusky nodded solemnly and said, “Yes. If it wasn’t for the lack of time, I would have even wanted to become his student.
“During those few days, he taught me a lot of knowledge and the Dance of Death. Unfortunately, this period of time was too brief. As soon as I built momentum, he died, leaving behind only a copper whistle.”
Before he finished his sentence, Kapusky took out an exquisite copper whistle that didn’t seem old.
“This is it.”
I have one too… It’s probably at the Ancestor grade though… Klein lampooned, and he thoughtfully asked, “How long ago was this? What did he look like? Where did you bury him?”
“Half a year ago. His most obvious feature was his graying hair and red spots on the side of his face. He told me to bury him in the garden out back.” Kapusky did a calculation of the dates.
It’s not Mr. Azik, but the chances are that he’s a member of the Numinous Episcopate and not someone of a low Sequence… Klein changed the subject and asked, “Apart from the Spirit Dance, you also learned the resurrection ritual?”
“I’ve only learned half of that ritual. I used some scattered knowledge and folklore to slowly improve it bit by bit,” Kapusky answered very honestly.
Improved it based on folklore? Oh, that poor black cat, may the Goddess bless you…Klein resisted the urge to draw a crimson moon on his chest.
“What else?” he pressed.
“Yes, and this copper whistle. I think it’s the key to communicating with the world beyond our senses.” Kapusky raised it and blew at it, sighing. “Every time I finish blowing it, I can feel the surroundings turn cold. It’s as if someone is watching me and tugging at me…”
While he was speaking, Klein, who had his Spirit Vision activated, saw water patterns ripple out from the ground. A cold air spread out alongside it, and the fire and light dimmed a little.
Next, a skull with three protruding, unfocused eyes emerged from the ground. Around the skull, there were many black jointed tentacles.
A tentacle reached out, touching Kapusky’s leg and tugged at his clothes from time to time, appearing rather impatient. However, Kapusky didn’t respond at all, as though he hadn’t noticed.
Is this a messenger? The copper whistle is used to summon their corresponding messengers… What’s the meaning of you summoning it without giving it a letter?Klein was stunned seeing this scene.
At that moment, Kapusky looked at him excitedly.
“Did you feel it? The surroundings turned cold! The gas lamps have dimmed too!
“I’m not lying! Someone is watching me and tugging at me!”
The horrific-looking messenger tried to touch Kapusky, over and over again, but in the end, it didn’t receive a letter and went back “underground” in resignation.
The corners of Klein’s mouth twitched slightly as he saw this scene. He whispered to himself in his heart, I take back what I said about him. He’s not a rookie, he’s an utter noob.
He’s not even a Beyonder!
I had thought that he was someone who had just stepped through the door of mysticism to learn the basics, but now, it seems like he hasn’t even found the location of the door…
Corpse Collectors of the Death Sequence pathway can all see ghosts and spirit bodies directly…
Combined with how Kapusky had acted by using the copper whistle to command the zombie after the ritual, Klein was convinced that he wasn’t lying. He sighed silently.
Then, he thought of a question, If I were to write a note and hand it to that messenger, where would it be delivered?
A true member of the Numinous Episcopate? Some senior member?
Suppressing this thought, Klein nodded and said, “It has indeed turned cold.”
After replying, he quickly changed the topic. “Have you felt anything unusual since the old gentleman’s death?”
“Eh… Not before, but in the last two weeks, I’d have the occasional feeling that someone around me is like a corpse—the kind that can be awoken.” Kapusky asked feeling both curious and afraid, “Is it a hallucination?”
It’s in line with what Adol said. He isn’t lying… Klein stole a glance at the colors of Kapusky’s aura and sincerely told him, “I suggest that you go to a cathedral at least three times a week for the next two months, attend mass, and listen to preachings.
“If you do not wish to do so, you can first prepare a grave for yourself.”
“Alright…” Kapusky answered, feeling disappointed.
He thought that it was a manifestation of his improvement!
Klein contemplated for a moment and said in a commanding tone, “Take me to the old gentleman’s corpse.”
“Ah? Okay.” Kapusky was about to refuse, but then he instantly recognized the reality of the situation he was in.
He picked up his tools and led Klein out the back door from the kitchen, into a withered garden, and stopped in front of a slanted tree.
Klein stood by his side and watched Kapusky skillfully dig through the dirt, revealing the slate underneath.
Having finished with the upper layer, Kapusky used his tools to pry open the slate.
Oof!
The slate was pressed against the soil that had been dug out just moments ago. The not-so-deep tomb was veiled in the crimson moon’s luster that faintly penetrated through the clouds.
Kapusky subconsciously looked over when he suddenly let out a miserable scream, retreated a few steps, and fell to the ground.
There was no rotting corpse or bones in the tomb. The bottom layer was littered with white feathers, dyed in yellow oil!
