Chapter 30 Part 2

In a rare moment of consideration, Faust tapped the partition separating the seats and raised it, his tone shifting from teasing to serious.

“The investigation of Dreamcatcher Town is fully complete. I have to say that even with the intelligence you provided, there are still a ton of unsolved mysteries—some of which you might not have noticed yourself, being right in the thick of it.”

Ode’s head still throbbed from the emotional release. He rubbed his temple with one hand. “What?”

“To avoid confusion, I’ll break it down by faction,” Faust said. He flicked ash from his cigar, and the smoke twisted automatically against the black partition, forming a mind map.

“First up: the Children of the Dust, the Dagon Secret Society, and the Church of Kolon Sovereign. The three cults.”

“After cross-referencing and surveillance, our people confirmed they’re not from 1888. They all entered Dreamcatcher Town this year, in May, one after another.”

“On the morning of May 21, the Deep Ones forming the Dagon Secret Society entered Dreamcatcher Town.

“In the afternoon, the Children of the Dust—disguised as geologists—entered Dreamcatcher Town.

“In the evening, the Church of Kolon Sovereign—posing as a Soap Company tour group—entered Dreamcatcher Town.”

“…All on the same day?” Ode’s brows furrowed slightly. “Isn’t that too much of a coincidence? Three different factions from 1980, all stepping into Dreamcatcher Town—trapped in 1888—on the exact same day?”

Faust shrugged. “Of these three, we have clear motives for two of them—at least, assuming your intel is accurate.”

“The Children of the Dust were there to rescue Quachil Uttaus, who was trapped and gravely injured for some reason.”

“The Dagon Secret Society—the only reason they’d migrate en masse and build outposts is if they believed the place was ideal for Deep Ones to breed and awaken their supreme deity. That’s right, the one a tier above Dagon himself, the god served by Dagon: Cthulhu.”

Ode frowned. “But how did they know about the illusions in Dreamcatcher Town? Did their god send them dreams too?”

Faust spread his hands, at a complete loss. “Beyond that, we still haven’t figured out what exactly the Church of Kolon Sovereign was observing in the town…”

“Honestly, two out of three cults wiped out, and the survivors—the ones who actually escaped successfully—turn out to be the Church of Kolon Sovereign? That was shocking enough.”

“As everyone knows, that church is ridiculously weak. Yog-Sothoth doesn’t give a damn about human affairs in the first place. They wouldn’t even glance if the whole cult dropped dead. Even elite mages have a hard time visiting Yog-Sothoth, and those who succeed rarely come back alive.”

Ode’s contemplative gaze drifted for a moment before snapping back. “What else? You said there are plenty of mysteries I didn’t spot.”

“Exactly.” Faust blew out a puff of smoke. “For instance, did you know the school collapsed?”

“Did you know the cliff beneath the school had been completely hollowed out? When our people went to investigate, everything inside the cliff had been cleared out. All that was left was a collapsed cave with even the wall plaster stripped away.”

“…” Ode’s brow twitched. “What? Wait—actually, the principal might have known about that. He once dug a basement under the library—”

“He’s dead.” Regret tinged Faust’s tone, though it rang hollow. The man’s crimes were too numerous for much sympathy. Any genuine sorrow stemmed mostly from the loss of a intel source.

“Down at the base of the mountain, in some nondescript drainage ditch. His death was gruesome.”

“He’d clearly suffered severe mental pollution, sprouting masses of malformed tissue. He died in agony… Even with his features distorted, you could easily see the horror and despair frozen on his face.”

“…” Ode’s eyes shifted subtly.

He remembered that day at the library. He had wanted to speak with the principal, but the man had suddenly rushed out and never returned. Ode had assumed he fled out of guilt at the time. But what if… that wasn’t it?

What if that had been the principal’s last public appearance?

Could the principal have been killed by the third presence in the library? But why?

“On top of that, there’s a logical paradox.” Faust tapped the “basement” entry on the mind map. “The basement held evidence of the principal’s crimes. He wouldn’t want anyone finding it. So why didn’t he stop you when you went to the library? Why didn’t he show even a hint of panic?”

“…” Ode stayed silent.

The mysteries of Dreamcatcher Town were like a mine. Digging through the surface layer revealed the upper veins of ore, and he’d thought that was all there was. But deeper excavation uncovered even more intricate, intertwined lodes below.

Faust savored Ode’s furrowed brow for a moment before speaking leisurely. “But—thanks to our esteemed Chief Eva’s thorough and precise analysis, this particular mystery has been solved.”

“!” Ode looked up in surprise.

Faust wore a smug, pleased expression. Ode couldn’t fathom what the man had to be so proud of; Chief Eva was the one who’d cracked it, not Faust. “Our principal’s brain showed signs of tampering—meaning his memory had been erased.”

“Who did it? No idea. Why? Probably to hide the massive void under the school.”

“There were rumors of strange noises from under the library basement, right? Maybe one day, while reminiscing about his glory days in that little room of incriminating souvenirs, the principal stumbled onto the truth behind those sounds. So his memory got wiped.”

“But—he didn’t die.”

Faust waved his hand in irritation. “That’s what makes it infuriating. Now we’ve got another puzzle: Why didn’t whoever was behind it just kill the principal outright? Why only erase his memory? Such a… gentle, harmless approach?”

Ode couldn’t help rubbing his temple again. “Anything else?”

“Don’t worry! Plenty more where that came from.” Faust snorted, blowing out smoke as he chuckled bitterly at how a speck of a town like Dreamcatcher could cram in so many enigmas.

“For example—did you know that the sea trench where Dagon hid after getting wounded was hiding another Great Old One as well?”

“Did you know that deep in that cave, there was an interrupted ritual array for summoning the Father of Sharks—one of Cthulhu’s avatars, the god who specifically protects the Deep Ones? It was hastily drawn halfway through but cut short.”

“What about the other Great Old One? Did it escape? Get captured?”

“Who interrupted the array? Was it the interrupter who took the other Great Old One?”

Ode went blank for a moment. “…What else?”

“The Bell Tower.” Faust thoughtfully drummed his fingers on the car window frame. Of all the mysteries, this one clearly frustrated him the most. “After hearing your account, I sent the survey team straight to check the clock on the church bell tower. Guess what happened?”

“…” Ode replied, “Nothing good, or you wouldn’t sound like that.”

“It collapsed.” Faust slapped his hand on the seat and barked out two harsh laughs. “How absurd is that? You said you reversed time and killed the monster on the beach—or under the sea, whatever. So why did the bell tower collapse? Ha?? Did your fight with the monster send a shockwave from thousands of meters away to knock it down??”

Once his outburst subsided, Faust took a deep breath to rein in his temper. “I can only think of two possibilities that might make the enemy—or enemies from multiple factions—want to destroy the bell tower.”

“One: They didn’t want us seeing the reversal records on the clock face. Maybe those records hold some key information.

“Two: The marks you mentioned before. Remember? You said that before the reversal, the bell tower’s wall looked freshly painted, with scratches underneath.”

Ode nodded. “Right. The priests must know about it. Who else painted over them?”

Then something else occurred to him. “…Actually, I think the police might know too. When we were evacuating people from the beach, the sheriff shouted not to go to the church. Why? He must have thought it was dangerous.”

“We interrogated them all.” Faust flashed a polite smile. “Guess what? Chief Eva examined them, and their brains had all been tampered with. So even though the sheriff did warn people on the beach to stay away from the church, he doesn’t remember why.”

Ode could now understand how Faust ended up with nothing but polite smiles from sheer frustration. “…But you said you’ve studied time magic. Can’t you reverse the bell tower’s time? Even just a section of the wall?”

“You think I didn’t try?” Faust slumped back against the seat, smacking his lips in boredom. “I did restore scratches on one wall, but they were all kids’ doodles—rabbits, puppies, suns, that sort of thing.”

“See? Kids scribbling on the church wall, priests paint over it. Perfectly reasonable, right? So here’s the question: Why did the sheriff specifically warn the evacuees to avoid a ‘perfectly normal’ church?”

Someone might have altered the markings ahead of time.

The thought flashed through Ode’s mind.

But Faust must have considered that possibility too. He would have kept rewinding until the covered scratches reappeared. Since he’d found nothing, then it had to mean…

The image resurfaced in Ode’s mind: Cavendish turning back toward him from the edge of the beach.

This time, revisiting the same scene, it didn’t stir a vague sense of connection. Instead, a profound chill settled in his heart.

The phantom of the venomous serpent hissed softly once more, silently coiling around his body.

He shifted his stiff body slightly and cleared his hoarse throat. “Are there any other mysteries? What exactly was that black mud monster on the beach? Who was the shark-like man guarding outside the town? Why did portraits of my parents show up on the isolated island next to Dreamcatcher Town?”

Faust shook his head. He rolled down the car window and stared absentmindedly at the brilliant lights sliding past outside. “You need to understand that the mysteries we run into on the job aren’t like classroom problems. You can’t just puzzle them out during class, ask around afterward, and have them solved in no time.”

“Sometimes… we chase after a mystery no bigger than a ball of yarn, only to stumble into this bizarre world. Even in retirement, we might never find that original answer.”

Ode paused and glanced at Faust. “You too?”

“…Me too.” Faust turned to look at him, neon lights bathing his profile in psychedelic colors. “I’ve lived long enough already. But I’m still waiting for the answer that will let me rest in peace.”

Faust’s face gradually blurred behind a veil of smoke. “Do you feel afraid?”

Ode stared at Faust for a moment, then leaned back too. “To tell you the truth, the thing I’m most scared of right now is flunking the graduation exam and spending my life as a trainee agent.”

Faust burst out laughing, the cigarette between his lips making him shake with mirth.

He fished a soft, floppy object from his pocket and slapped it onto the seat between them. “Then congratulations are in order, Agent Ode.”

“Your performance in today’s field exercise was outstanding. Pharaoh has approved your assessment. Starting tomorrow, you’ll be an official GORCC agent with the code name Dream of the Ancient. You’ll join my direct action team.”

“I… probably ought to ask what the code name means and who’s on the team, but what’s this?” Ode picked up the item from the seat cushion. A chill ran through him at the skin-like texture. “It’s not that I don’t recognize it. What I mean is, why give it to me? Do all official agents wear masks?”

“No.” Faust fixed him with an intense gaze. “It’s an auxiliary tool for your next mission.”

“Didn’t you mention this before? I once promised you that if you needed proof, he could take you to meet the Prime Minister. Regrettably, he couldn’t deliver on that. But the good news is, I can.”

“—Put it on. Meet me at Southampton Port tomorrow morning at nine.”