The Bizarre Detective Agency

Chapter 647: The First

Fortunately, Robbie Rudnev wasn't just some local resident hiding out in the newspaper office.

Robbie Rudnev was the night watchman for the Belfast Daily Gazette. Over a decade ago, however, he had been one of the paper's most efficient workers—not even two or three strong young men could match his printing speed.

He had thought the ink and the machines would stay with him until old age, but three or four years ago, the newspaper modernized, replacing the manual printing presses with cheaper, faster automated ones.

Robbie Rudnev retired. Fortunately, the newspaper's owner was a kind-hearted man; although he sold almost all the manual machines and laid off most of the long-serving old-timers, Robbie was kept on.

Perhaps it was because the owner knew that he, too, had once been a sturdy fellow.

Of course, whenever the power went out, Robbie Rudnev would sometimes retrieve the single remaining manual printing press from the basement and work tirelessly.

Robbie Rudnev had no children. He imagined he would work until the day he became too feeble, and then, sadly, despite his boss's pleas, he would leave, taking the shillings given to him as a farewell gift to do some traveling.

He wanted to visit Himmfast. He'd heard it was the capital of the arts, where the smell of printing ink hung in the air everywhere—he wondered if the scent was stronger there than in his own pressroom.

But it never came to that. The Night Calamity changed everything. Terrified, Robbie Rudnev hid in the basement, only venturing out when the oil in his lamp ran low and the thirst and hunger became unbearable.

He was lucky that on the day of the calamity, he was the only one in the office, so he didn't have to deal with the bodies of others or anything of the sort.Seeing the gruesome cityscape through the window, Robbie Rudnev was so frightened he didn't dare go outside. He only managed to find a little surviving food and water on the second floor, along with half a bucket of ink, before locking himself back in the basement.

The tin door to the basement never opened again after that.

Although the ink burned too quickly, making him cough constantly, and the hunger grew ever stronger, he preferred to die in the damp, dark basement than to face the monsters outside.

Sometimes he wondered when help would arrive, but he quickly banished such thoughts. "Stop fooling yourself. Who would come to save a city that's already been destroyed?"

Robbie Rudnev grew weaker by the day, until a soft knock echoed on the tin door.

The foreign memories caused a ten-second confusion in Anna, but it receded as quickly as it came, like a tide going out.

After all, this wasn't her first ritual. After recently absorbing two centuries of Sara's memories, the recollections of a man not yet sixty were not enough to disorient her or make her lose her composure.

Emerging from the stream of memories, the first thing she felt was the body's profound need—hunger.

Then came the smell—an acrid mixture of printing ink and dampness, with the ink being the dominant scent.

The burning ink seemed to be toxic—the thick black smoke was a testament to that.

Although the smell was unpleasant, Anna gratefully accepted it all.

The sensation of possessing a body was like a diver breaking the surface—the entire world became clearer. Now she understood why so many ghosts longed to possess humans.

It was like cigarettes or alcohol for a man—addictive.

Inhaling the acrid scent of the burning ink, Anna couldn't help but wonder: what did Lu Li smell like?

Recalling the events in the Inverted City, she realized: Lu Li had no scent. Or rather, it wasn't a scent; his very presence evoked emotions far stronger and deeper.

Like a dream.

Anna, now inhabiting Robbie Rudnev, turned her head to look at her own ghostly self standing beside her.

It was a strange sensation, observing herself, especially since she could control both bodies simultaneously.

Anna quickly looked away and noticed a problem: all the sensations were muted compared to the memories.

The heart beat weakly, blood flowed sluggishly through the veins, distant objects appeared double, and each breath sounded like the wheezing of a blacksmith's bellows.

It was as if she were looking at the world through a veil.

Was it because the body had grown accustomed to the smells? Or was he simply too old and weak?

Despite this, Anna trembled with excitement as she pushed herself up, her hand brushing against the cold floor. Or maybe the trembling was simply a symptom of old age.

This long-forgotten sense of touch...

Anna even felt that if she were to touch Lu Li now, she might faint from the overwhelming flood of sensations.

A pity she couldn't do that.

Anna approached the manual printing press. Robbie Rudnev's memories showed her how to use it, and a phrase suddenly surfaced in her mind:

"Machines are meant to work, not rust away in a warehouse."

It was a thought that came from a fragment of the old man's consciousness.

Anna silently contemplated the meaning of those words as her true form floated upstairs and brought back clean sheets of newsprint from the storeroom. Half of the remaining bucket of ink would be enough.

Returning, Anna found some unused printing plates, carved text and the outlines of a map onto them with her telekinesis, poured ink into the machine, inserted a plate into the groove, placed a clean sheet, and, as if stamping it, left a clear, wet impression, repeating the process.

Within ten seconds, Anna had completely mastered the work. But that wasn't enough for her: she carved text onto the remaining plates and, with an invisible hand, began pressing impressions onto other sheets.

It was messy at first, but once she got the hang of it, she worked smoothly and easily, as if on an assembly line.

True, the leaflets printed without the press came out blurry, but she wasn't planning to sell them, and the anomalies wouldn't care anyway.

Possessing a body inevitably endowed Anna with human weaknesses—and perhaps strengths, too. The brain was constantly thinking about something.

As she printed, she couldn't help but think: if nothing had happened, it would have been nice to start a newspaper with Lu Li... He would come up with the stories, and she would print them.

At that moment, the left side of her host's chest suddenly felt tight, making it hard to breathe.

Anna froze, and the several printing plates hovering in the air stopped.

Realizing what was happening, Anna raised the withered hand and touched it to her chest.

Heavy and silent... The body's heart had stopped beating.

The old man was dead.

Anna hadn't expected this turn of events.

She hadn't wanted to kill him—there was no need, and Lu Li might grow suspicious. She had even planned to find some canned food nearby after she was done printing as payment for borrowing his body.

But the old man's condition was worse than she had thought. The fright and the possession had been the last straw for his fragile life.

Though, even without Anna, he probably wouldn't have lasted more than another two or three days.

But still, he had died because of Anna.

The depleted Humanity burst from the corpse and flowed into Anna's ghostly form standing nearby, granting her power and... an inexplicable, soul-trembling desire.