Old Qianning had only turned to Ode as a last resort.
Pharaoh had taken her people to Egypt, claiming a series of vicious incidents had cropped up—most likely the work of a new avatar from Nyarlathotep. GORCC was short-staffed and couldn’t babysit Little Qianning around the clock unless he headed to some documented danger zone.
Ode hopped off the instrument in a rush, grabbed his new gear, and headed for the door when Eva blocked his path. “I know the checkup is important. Wait until I find Cav—”
“No.” She just wanted to remind him not to gobble down any more monsters for the time being. She pressed the car keys into his hand. “Give me a little time. Once I’m sure it’s foolproof, we’ll do this together.”
Ode nodded haphazardly, barely registering her words, and strode out the door. All the way back to the ancestral home, he brooded over a single thought:
Two days. It had already been two days.
What if Little Qianning had already… met with an accident? What if, on the night Little Qianning had called him, he hadn’t hesitated but had grabbed the keys right away, tidied up the ancestral home—would this mishap have been avoided?
He couldn’t dwell on it. In fact, by the latter half of the drive, his mind had gone almost blank.
When he reached the gates of the ancestral home, he clenched his jaw. Far from slowing down, he slammed his foot on the accelerator—
“Bang!!”
The Aston Martin sliced through the locked gates like a gray blade, roaring onto the unkempt lawn overgrown with wild grass.
Ode gunned the engine again, planning to screech to a halt right at the mansion’s entrance and charge into the master bedroom to search for Little Qianning. Midway there, a blinding glint caught his eye. “?”
Time seemed to stretch in that instant—
He turned toward the reflection on his left and spotted a lake shimmering brilliantly under the sunlight. Though far larger than the one in his dreams, from this distance, Ode could clearly make out its shape. It matched the lake at the base of the dream cliff exactly.
“Screech—”
Ode jammed on the brakes. The Aston Martin skidded nearly two full circles across the lawn before coming to a stop.
“…” Ode gripped the steering wheel, panting raggedly for a couple of seconds, then shoved open the door and bolted toward the lake, strewn with masses of floating leaves.
The lake’s rippling light pierced his eyes, dazzling as if he were charging straight toward the sun.
A sun poised to scorch him to ashes.
In the depths of his mind, a murmur seemed to echo at his ear:
‘Yes. This is the place. Where all the truth began.’
‘Whoa, whoa. You sure you want to just dive right in? Let’s think this through first—in your dream, there’s a lake with all the evil versions of us sealed underneath. Doesn’t that feel like a bad omen? I mean, maybe we should pause here and reflect? Or call in some backup?’
Ode’s pace slowed only for a heartbeat as he reached the lake’s edge. Then, without a second’s hesitation, he leaped!
“Splash…”
The familiar warmth enveloped him once more. But this time, a faint chill stirred in the depths of his heart.
He shouldn’t have let his guard down. He shouldn’t have slowed his steps.
Hadn’t that sky-scraping corpse cliff in the dream been warning enough? Now Little Qianning had run into trouble. If Karo really was in danger, this would be the price of his evasion.
Chaotic visions of gunfire and shadowy figures flickered before his eyes again. Underwater, Ode punched the side of his own face to banish the untimely flashback. He oriented himself toward the lake bottom and swam harder.
‘Look on the bright side—Karo might not even be down here, right?’ one inner voice offered, clinging to a sliver of hope. ‘Maybe the dream just picked a familiar spot as a gateway. No rule says it has to mean anything, yeah?’
‘And how could our family have a tainted lake like this? Impossible. Eva tested Grandfather’s body. No issues, no signs of pollution. We’re just a normal family—’
‘Are we?’ another voice sneered. ‘A normal family where everyone dies raving mad?’
‘A normal family with a Druid father, a mother whose bloodline who-knows-what, able to turn a descendant into a mermaid with a Fish Transformation Spell?’
‘Think about it—our power is Reverse Pollution. What if Grandfather’s body showed no problems not because he never touched monsters, but because he did… and our Reverse Pollution neutralized it?’
Ode halted abruptly in his dive. Ahead lay a bizarre vortex. At its heart yawned an opening lit by underwater work lamps.
Clang…
It was as if a judge’s gavel had slammed down in a courtroom, striking Ode’s heart and sending it plummeting.
His limbs went ice-cold. He scarcely knew how he stiffly swam to the vortex’s edge. The current spun him dizzily until, abruptly, he broke free and crashed to the ground.
“Karo?” Ode pushed himself up, hands shaking. “Karo!”
He scanned the vast underwater cavern. The stench of rotting flesh assaulted his nostrils, turning his stomach. Masses of grotesquely colored meat chunks hung from the walls or piled on stone slabs, illuminated by torches.
He spotted discarded heads—some from familiar “people” like Deep Ones, but most he’d only seen in cultural studies, photos or specimens.
“…Karo.” Ode’s voice softened unconsciously, hoarse and raw.
‘Look on the bright side, Ode. At least no live monsters in this cave. If Karo’s here, worst case he’s polluted, not dead.’
Yes, good news. Ode told himself that, drew a deep breath, and focused on searching for human traces—or intact monster remains.
At one point, behind a stone slab heaped with entrails, he glimpsed half a sneaker. “—Karo!”
He rushed over and scooped up Little Qianning’s upper body. Ignoring the severely mutated organs for the moment, he first checked for breath and pulse. Only then did the taut string in his mind snap loose.
The instant he exhaled in relief, Little Qianning let out a “Gah” and stirred awake. His eyes fluttered open straight into Ode’s face. “Bro, why’re you in my dream? Bro, you’re hugging me so tight it’s giving me goosebumps—let go?”
Ode didn’t know what emotion to feel. He just clamped his arms tighter with a fierce glare. “You stay put. Who told you to break into my private home?”
Little Qianning yelped in pain from the squeeze. “Ow, mama! …Huh? This ain’t a dream? Holy crap, Ode, you came to save me! Thank God, finally family showed up, waaah…”
Tears streamed down Little Qianning’s face as he wiped them away, sniffling pitifully. “Dude, what’s with this place under your house? I barely got in the door when I got this insane urge to swim in the lake. One swim and I sank, got stuck here. No phone signal… Is your family monster hunters or what? All this monster meat?”
Little Qianning was clearly trying to put the best spin on it, and Ode could tell. But honestly, what monster hunter dragged kills home to hang like jerky or gut them? This cavern, like a butcher shop, was obviously a food storage spot.
A dizzying wave, like low blood sugar, washed over Ode. Voices whirled in his ears:
“I’ll just lay it out straight—no one walks away from pollution without a reaction. No exceptions so far. Sometimes it makes me wonder something terrifying…”
“Look, I’m loath to lose you. You’ve got this unique bloodline—a Druid and human offspring. How does reciting an Avatar Fish Swimming Spell turn you into a mermaid?”
“This is the last one. I didn’t find a single scrap about it.”
“I can guarantee you won’t find any Druid lore anywhere that isn’t in that study.”
“Should we tell him…?”
“No! I know hiding it isn’t great, but I guarantee knowing versus not will shape something completely different…”
Shape something completely different? A person? Or… a monster?
Cavendish had promised him every book on Druids was in that study. If he found no matching info, was it not an omission—but Cavendish hinting his uniqueness had nothing to do with Druid blood? That he himself was the anomaly?
Why had his mother wanted to teach him to shoot from a young age? When his father objected, why say first, “I don’t want my child turning into a monster”? Would normal parents link gun training to monstrosity?
What had his parents hidden from him? Who hunted these cavern monsters? His parents on their months-long trips? What were these meats prepared for…
Ode began to tremble faintly. To feed me?
“Ode? Ode.” Little Qianning, still cradled in Ode’s arms, twisted around at the shivers and hugged him fiercely in return. “Don’t scare yourself with wild theories… Hey! Listen to me!”
Little Qianning turned unusually stern, even pinching Ode’s chin to force eye contact. “These things under the lake? Don’t tell Faust. In fact, outside you and me, best no one knows. We’ll go back together, say I crashed out from cleaning the ancestral home and overslept—”
“Too dangerous,” Ode rasped. “I have to tell Faust. If I’m—”
“Who can prove you’re a monster?!” Little Qianning shoved him away and shot to his feet, furious. “Which slab of meat in this cave says ‘Ode is a monster’? Didn’t Eva’s test tell you? You’re human through and through!”
“Think it through—if you tell Faust about the cave, what happens? He hates monsters and cults so much, he’ll lock down your movements. With GORCC shorthanded, how many people die in the meantime?”
“Life’s so fragile! Meet someone today, they could kick the bucket tomorrow—no harder than snapping a twig! No time for your endless suspicions!”
“And—even if it turns out you’re squeaky clean, that fissure’s cracked open. You think it’ll seal back up good as new?”
Ode murmured, “But you can’t keep paper from wrapping fire forever. By then, the rift from hiding it will be even bigger.”
“…” Little Qianning’s chest heaved sharply, perhaps because he thought Ode was being too stubborn, or perhaps because he realized Ode’s words held an irrefutable truth. In the end, he said in a heavy voice, “Then wait for one more piece of evidence. If a second one—like this cavern—shows up, then you tell Faust.”
“Please,” Little Qianning knelt beside Ode. “You have no idea what it’s been like for me these past few days, sticking close to my mom and watching the team members around her come and go… So many soldiers dying at the hands of outsiders—we don’t have time for infighting.”
“I came to your house hoping to help you handle some chores, lighten your load on the trivial stuff. I’m not here to add more burden to GORCC!”
Little Qianning was already advising Ode from Ode’s own perspective. In fact, from his viewpoint, even if Ode really was a monster? As long as he could kill those beasts slaughtering humans, Little Qianning didn’t care how many noses or eyes Ode had.
Not to mention, ever since they’d met, Ode had been saving people. Even before joining GORCC, he’d protected the weak from bullies. After joining, he refused to let anyone die before his eyes—even retrieving bodies for proper burial. If someone like Ode wasn’t human, how many people on Earth would be worse than monsters?
“Buzz…” Ode’s phone suddenly vibrated.
Ode answered with a wooden expression, not even checking the caller ID. Faust’s voice came through: [Have you found Little Qianning, Ode? Is he okay?]
Little Qianning snatched the phone before Ode could speak. “Come on… What could possibly happen to me? I’m not like you guys with all your abilities. The worst that could come after me are some greedy kidnappers eyeing money. I was just cleaning the ancestral home here and dozed off… Nothing happened. Uh, why are you calling Ode? Don’t tell me you’re dragging him off to work again? We had a deal to tidy up the ancestral home and then grab a drink!”
[Cleaning and falling asleep? Are you serious?] Faust’s tone carried skepticism mixed with doubt about Little Qianning’s intelligence.
“What! Can’t I?” Little Qianning shot back righteously. “I’m not a soldier!”
Faust snorted, clearly still only half-believing it—though he approached most things with skepticism anyway, so it wasn’t unusual: [Relax, I’m not pulling Ode into work. Just giving him a heads-up. That compensation the Prime Minister promised has come through.]
[Ode’s been promoted to Second Lieutenant. There’s a peerage ceremony on January 1st next year—congrats in advance, Ode. Our Viscount is about to become an Earl. Surprised? Happy?]
“…” This good news could not have come at a worse time. Ode could hardly muster any enthusiasm. He took back the phone and said flatly, “Getting ready to go home and argue with Cavendish. Talk later,” before hanging up. He grabbed Little Qianning, stood, confirmed no contamination lingered on him, and fired several shots to knock down all the torches.
The flames, fueled by corpse oil, turned the cavern—stacked with hazardous materials—into an inferno in the blink of an eye.
As Ode hauled him out of the cavern, Little Qianning couldn’t help asking, “If you brush Faust off like that and he actually calls the Duke to confirm if you two argued, what then?”
“Whatever.” Ode replied indifferently. “The argument’s happening anyway.”
—
Half an hour later.
The Aston Martin smashed through the manor’s gates under the old butler’s stunned gaze, screeching to a tail-spinning halt in front of the mansion.
Ode stepped out and strode into the mansion, intending to charge straight to the study on the second floor. But there, in the living room, a crowd of people—some seated, some standing—turned in astonishment toward the intruder who’d kicked in the door.
“…” Ode’s brow twitched faintly as he subtly scanned every guest present.
Nearest to him was an elderly man in a tailored suit with impeccable accessories. He turned to Ode with that familiar aristocratic smile—warm yet distant. “What happened? Are we being robbed?”
“If so, then I’m the only target.” Cavendish’s voice sounded from beside the fireplace.
Ode frowned and looked over. The man lounged casually in the prime seat by the warmth, his posture at odds with his impeccably dressed appearance. A polite, shallow smile graced his usually impassive face, and even from his seat, one could tell his true attitude toward the visitors. “My apologies. If it’s convenient, could we reschedule? I believe my… friend has something private to discuss with me.”
“What? But we just got here! Who even is he? Even if you’re the Duke—” The irate young noble was tugged and muffled by those around him, half-dragged toward the door.
Even so, as he brushed past Ode, the young noble shot him a disdainful glance and snorted loudly before reluctantly allowing himself to be pulled outside.
“…” Ode memorized every face in the group, especially that last rude one’s. Back at base, he’d have Faust investigate if any of these nobles in contact with Cavendish were members of the Secret Society.
Once they were gone, he stepped forward. “What were they here for?”
“A matchmaking party.” Cavendish lifted a glass of red wine from the side table, an invitation letter pinned beneath it. “Seems humans get more attention when single, like lottery winners drawing friends and family.”
Cavendish raised his glass toward Ode—no surprise, he aimed wrong since he couldn’t see, but the gesture got the point across. “And you? Crashing the manor in your car and kicking down the door—for what?”
“…My parents.” Ode’s hand pressed against the back of a sofa, facing Cavendish across half the living room. “The carvings they left in Dreamcatcher Town—you found them. What do you know?”
Cavendish fell silent for a moment, set down his wine, crossed his long legs clad in suit pants, and rested his interlocked hands on his thigh as he regarded Ode. “What answer are you hoping to get from me?”
“That my parents were monsters? That I am a monster? So you can keep your deal with Little Qianning and take this second piece of evidence to Faust to get yourself shot?”
Cavendish leaned forward slightly. “I’m not telling you anything.”
“You know why?”
Cavendish smiled without a trace of warmth. “Because Little Qianning was spot on. You love torturing yourself. You’re obsessed with anything that causes pain, anything that lets you embrace destruction.”
“Every time, I think you’ve finally fixed yourself. And every time, you come back even more broken.”
Ode pressed his lips together. “So your answer really would hurt me more, wouldn’t it?”
“Pain?” Cavendish let out a mocking laugh. “Can you even feel pain anymore? I thought you’d severed your pain nerves. Remember two months ago? You sat in the carriage, whimpering the whole way just from nicking your finger with a silver knife. Now? You act like you feel nothing.”
“Why? Because your teammates don’t care, so you don’t either?”
Ode stared coldly at him. “Because we just want to survive. And you just want your collectible intact. Right?”
“Do you even know what feelings are? What caring is? How different is your ‘caring’ for me from caring for a one-of-a-kind object or a pet?”
Ode’s voice was cold as a blade. “If you say ‘there’s a difference,’ then tell me. That first night I stayed over—what did you do in my room?”
He stepped out from behind the sofa, advancing on Cavendish with every word. “Did you feed me something? Why else would my vitals change so drastically? Why not do it when I was awake? Because you knew I wouldn’t take it, right? Why not respect my choice? What’s the difference from an owner force-feeding a pet? Neither lets the pet—”
Cavendish seized Ode’s wrist, yanking him down onto his lap. His right hand clamped tightly around Ode’s neck—pointless for choking, but effective nonetheless. “What did I tell you last time at the Sanatorium? ‘Even if I can’t kill you, I can still pin you to the bed and fuck you.’”
“Fuck yourself—” Ode’s body tensed from the sudden pain, a grunt stuck in his throat.
Cavendish’s left hand vanished beneath fabric, his right pinning Ode to prevent struggle. “Why stay quiet? You’re almost making me think the spatial barrier between us has failed.”
“Go to hell, bastard.” Ode ground out through clenched teeth.
Cavendish straightened him up, straddling his lap face-to-face. The hand at his neck shifted to stroke his back, like caressing the tense spine of a prowling black panther.
“That won’t happen, I’m afraid. First, I don’t want to die. Second, if I did, where would you find another person who, when provoked by you, can satisfy your masochistic needs without actually killing you?”
Ode scoffed. “Plenty on the street.”
“Do they know how dangerous a path you’re on?” Cavendish half-pinched Ode’s tense jaw. “When you crave even harsher thrills, will they run scared, or bend over for pay?”
“Isn’t that lonely? Two hot bodies pressed together, but neither truly knows the one beneath the skin—the other never sees your madness and ugliness poured out, and you can never peel back your own skin to show it…”
“Admit it.” Cavendish’s breath ghosted Ode’s ear as he nipped the flushed, delicate earlobe. “I’m the perfect fit for you. Otherwise, why come straight back to me?”
“Or maybe…” Ode tried to pull away, tensing his abs and biting down hard. “I’m really just here to argue and break things off.”
“That makes it even less likely I’ll let you.” Cavendish scooped Ode up with one arm—as if the nearly 180-pound man weighed nothing—his broad palm cupping Ode’s rear firmly as he headed for the master bedroom upstairs. “Not until you fix that numbness to pain.”
Ode: “…Wait, I really came for answers. I don’t have time for this—fine, okay! How do you want me to change?!”
Cavendish tossed him onto the bed, the overly soft mattress bouncing him once. He stared down at Ode on the bed and loosened his tie. “Start by learning to scream in pain.”
