The Bizarre Detective Agency

Chapter 406: A Ray of Salvation

"Flame is the light of civilization."

Oliver recalled the phrase from a book he'd once spotted while rummaging through a trash can. He hadn't taken the book, committing only that single line to memory—mostly because it was the only one he could read.

Now, after surviving so many trials, Oliver felt he could reflect on the phrase like a philosopher, and even add to it.

"Flame is the source of life."

The warmth of the fire caressed Oliver's cheek, heating the damp, cold air in the cabin and chasing away the chill. The side of his body facing the flames felt the summer swelter of a Port Roadster beach, but the cold seeping into his back was a constant reminder that it was all just an illusion.

Oliver spread the clothes he had found near the fire to dry. Once he felt a little warmer, he pried open a tin can with a rusty kitchen knife he'd discovered in the galley.

There was no smell. Oliver thought the cold might have temporarily dulled his senses, but even when he held the can to his nose, he still detected nothing.

He inspected the can. There were no signs of mold. Oliver licked the contents—the taste of brine flooded his mouth. He could sense nothing but salt.

"No smell... It must be fine."

Decades of storage had reduced the can's contents to a uniform mush.Oliver had eaten far more disgusting things, like a piece of bread he'd once salvaged from a pool of vomit... So, after stirring the contents with his knife and finding nothing suspicious, he took a swallow. If nausea or diarrhea didn't hit him soon, he'd consider the food safe.

The completely dry clothes felt pleasantly warm. Oliver changed, washed his wound with water collected from the walls, and spread the remaining garments beneath him for bedding.

The kerosene he had doused the coals with had nearly burned away, but the embers were now glowing brightly.

Oliver added a few more pieces of dried coal to feed the fire, then curled up on his makeshift bed.

Sleep began to pull him under.

...

Jojo had a powerful premonition that something of immense importance to her was on this steamship.

After scouting the upper deck, Anna returned to Lu Li and Jojo, who were waiting by the stream. She was frowning.

"Something isn't right here."

Lu Li felt it too. The enormous ship, mired in the swamp, seemed profoundly strange—like a beached whale.

Regardless, they had to get on board.

"Perhaps you should wait outside while I go in?" Anna suggested. She could pass through walls and scout the ship quickly.

Lu Li shook his head.

"Together."

He glanced at the shadow guide, which stood motionless a few meters away, near the ship's hull. It hadn't moved an inch.

From here on, they would have to search on their own.

There was a ledge on one side of the ship that they could have used to climb onto the deck, but with Anna, it wasn't necessary—she simply lifted them up.

The once well-kept wooden deck was now decayed and lifeless. Lu Li scanned his surroundings and spotted an entrance leading to the lower deck.

Oliver had an oil lamp, and the swamp's surface was dangerous, so he was most likely hiding below.

Raising his lamp, Lu Li descended, careful to avoid the rotten planks. The creak of the floorboards echoed through the dark space.

A long corridor stretched out before them. Lu Li noticed an old cargo lift—this really must have been a passenger liner.

"Call out to him," Lu Li told Jojo, stopping about ten meters down the hall.

"The ficus trees outside will protect us. Even if we make some noise, the evil god's servants won't be able to get in here."

And Anna will take care of any that do manage to break through.

"Can I...?" Jojo asked, her voice uncertain. She had never been so close to hope.

Lu Li didn't answer. Taking his silence as her cue, Jojo took a deep breath and shouted into the darkness:

"Oliver!"

Her brother's name shot down the corridor, shattering into a thousand echoes.

...

Through the haze of sleep, Oliver heard someone call his name.

His fogged mind struggled to focus, until memories of his last moments before drifting off rushed back, reminding him where he was.

Oliver's eyes snapped open.

The fire and the lamp were still burning, but the coals had nearly turned to ash.

What time is it?... The coals have been burning for about two hours... It must be almost morning...

He moved aside the edge of the coat covering the porthole. Outside, the same dark red clouds hung in the sky.

Oliver sat up, tossed a couple of dry coals into the fire, and thought back to the voice he'd heard in his dream.

"Could it... not have been a hallucination?"

Clinging to the thought like a drowning man to a raft, he strained his ears.

But unfortunately, he heard nothing but the quiet gurgle of the stream and a distant echo.

Sighing, Oliver inspected his wound. The pus had stopped oozing and the pain had subsided, but a network of black lines had appeared around the injury, unnerving him.

Was it a curse...?

He needed to cut that piece of flesh out...

The black lines had already spread across nearly half his palm.

He had to get out of here and find help. Lu Li would surely help him...

Just then, he heard the faint call again.

"Oliver..."

Who is it?!

Oliver flinched. The next moment, he recognized his sister's voice!

...

"Oliver! Brother!" Jojo screamed until she was hoarse, her voice echoing down the corridor.

Most of the cabins on either side of the hallway were closed. The few that were open revealed dilapidated rooms with rusty iron bunks.

"Oliver!"

Again and again, Jojo called for her brother, all her fears forgotten.

Even Lu Li hadn't lost hope, and she refused to give up either.

Around a bend in the corridor, another section appeared, and at its end was the half-open door of a cabin.

Jojo was suddenly certain that her brother was right there, in that room.

She glanced back at Lu Li and hurried toward the cabin.

"Brother!"

...

"I'm here! I'm here!" Oliver shouted in response to his sister's call. He scrambled to his feet, so weak that he nearly fell into the fire.

Stumbling, he rushed to the door.

The voice was coming from just outside. Oliver shoved aside the chair he'd used to barricade the door, impatient to see his sister, though he had no idea how she had found him.

...

Breaking into a run, Jojo reached the cabin and threw the door wide open.

But instead of her brother, her joyful gaze fell upon a lifeless body slumped against the wall.

It was Oliver.

Oliver's skin had taken on a gray-green hue. He lay cold, propped up against the colder wall. Sinister black lines snaked around his neck, weaving a macabre pattern.

The fire in the hearth and the oil lamp had long since gone out.

They were too late.