The Bizarre Detective Agency

Chapter 770: The Blessing of a Curse

In a damp basement, by the dim light of an oil lamp, a skeletal man hunched over a table, writing something with a quill pen.

Behind him, a gray fog swirled, as if waiting for him to finish.

The writing reached the final page; the end was near.

Finally, the disheveled man set down his quill. It fell against the end of the illegible text, punctuating it like a final period.

The man raised his head, and his bloodshot eyes shone through his tangled hair.

— According to our agreement, I've done my part, — he rasped, offering the notes to the gray fog with trembling hands. — Character, origin, history... everything you asked for, sir.

A grayish, hand-like tendril emerged from the swirling fog and took the notes. The fog turned to the first page.

For a time, the fog read in silence. Then, words identical to those in the notebook formed from the mist.

— My wife... — the man whispered, a plea in his voice.

The fog dispersed and reformed, shaping a short reply.An expression of relief crossed the man's emaciated, sharp-cheekboned face. He reached for the oil lamp on the table.

The fog and the notes vanished without a sound, as if they had never been there.

Whether by accident or design, the man's trembling hand knocked over the lamp. Oil spilled out, and the burning wick set the scattered drafts ablaze.

A bright flash instantly lit up the basement, scattering the gloom.

The faint flicker of light deep in the man's pupils was extinguished.

...

— Papa, why did you lock yourself in the basement? — a little boy asked, holding his mother's hand and looking up at her.

— He needs to think about something for work... — the mother answered softly, her eyes, visible from beneath her scarf, full of anxiety.

Yesterday, her husband had said he needed to write a novel about an exorcist for someone important, and then he'd locked himself in the basement. But he didn't even know how to read.

As she mulled this over, she felt an itch and a squirming sensation under her scarf, right over the wound near her eye.

The mother instinctively reached for the wound, but the injury—which always brought tears to her eyes at the slightest touch—had vanished.

How was that possible...?

While the mother stood frozen in shock, the skin where the wound had been continued to stir.

A fleshy growth sprouted from under her skin.

— No...

Ripples spread beneath her scarf, like waves on the surface of water. The mother let go of her son's hand and broke into a terrified run.

— Don't follow me!

Shouting this to her son, the mother stumbled away.

Growths resembling tree branches burst through her clothes, intertwining and engulfing the fleeing figure, transforming her into a hideous, swelling lump of flesh.

The people nearby scattered, fleeing the pulsating mass that now stood motionless in the middle of the street.

— Mama...

People ran past the boy, but his gaze remained fixed on the formless lump as he called for his mother again and again, tears streaming down his face.

On the deserted street, only the boy and the lump of flesh remained.

Suddenly, two figures rushed out of a nearby shop. A young man with the same chestnut hair as the boy scooped him into his arms and carried him away from the lump. His companion rolled up her sleeves, and her palm, wrapped in emerald-green vines, turned toward the mass. A caustic green slime sprayed from a mouth that opened like a snake's, splattering directly onto the overgrown flesh.

The growing mass contracted sharply, like a heart. The slime hissed, releasing poisonous fumes as it corroded the flesh. But it didn't last long; the diluted slime lost its potency, and the lump began to swell again.

— This Anomaly has incredible regeneration, — said the girl who had sprayed the slime.

On their chests, she and the young man both wore the insignia of the University of Claire: a scepter and a shield.

The young man holding the boy looked around. — It's not attacking anyone... Lena, you keep restraining its growth, and I'll contact the Knights.

— Alright.

With a nod, the young man deftly carried the child off the street.

The boy stared at the lump of flesh, reaching his small hands toward it.

— Mama...

Just then, the girl released another stream of slime.

The bright green liquid struck the lump, forcing it to contract once more.

But the creature didn't resist or try to flee, as if it were just a soulless piece of meat.

Only its contraction when the slime hit and the faint scream from within indicated that it could feel pain...

...

"Although the exorcist Ienard Metyus did not accomplish a feat as great as Lu Li's, he deserves no less respect, as Midnight, where we now live, was founded by them."

"We eagerly await the meeting of the two last exorcists of the Age of Anomalies."

Lu Li put down the newspaper.

— Ienard Metyus was here before Midnight was even Midnight, — explained Dean Rolens. — He's one of the city's founders and is well acquainted with the local elite.

— He looks quite young, — Lu Li remarked. The newspaper photograph showed a fair-haired man in his thirties.

— Perhaps, like you, time stopped for him some twenty years ago, — the dean replied.

— That's not a bad thing.

Lu Li spoke approvingly of the exorcist Ienard Metyus's return. Unfortunately, he didn't know the man and had never even heard of him.

— Of course, it's not bad, but... — Dean Rolens sighed, sensing that things were starting to go awry. — It would have been better if he had returned a little later.

Ienard Metyus was also a hero, one of the founders of Midnight.

In the eyes of some, his accomplishments were even greater than Lu Li's and held more significance.

Lu Li was like a legendary hero, a savior of the world, while Ienard Metyus was a hometown hero. He was a part of Midnight, closer and more familiar to its people.

— Now public attention will be divided, — the dean said. — I imagine Mr. Metyus will certainly be invited to tomorrow's reception at city hall.

Fortunately, Dean Rolens had managed to get a few things done over the past couple of days.

— Tomorrow morning, a play about your heroic deeds will be performed at the Mondali Theater. They are very much hoping you will attend.

To watch the events of the past from the sidelines?

— Alright, — Lu Li agreed.

After dinner, Dean Rolens left, leaving Lu Li, Katerina, and Prusius, who had emerged from beneath his black cloth.

— Mr. Lu Li, please tell me your story, — Prusius asked. He loved stories and had read countless books. Now, a real hero from those stories was standing right before him.

— You can come to the theater with us tomorrow, — Katerina said, tearing a leg from the roasted chicken and eating it with relish.

— Really?! — Prusius looked at Lu Li joyfully.

— If Dean Rolens doesn't mind, — Lu Li replied.

As night fell, lights like stars began to twinkle on the Great Tree. Its very presence brought an incredible sense of security.

Just as Dean Rolens had predicted, Ienard Metyus was also invited to the city hall reception. This made the event even more anticipated, but it also inevitably drew some of the attention away from Lu Li.

Meanwhile, one of Lu Li's requests had been fulfilled.

— Here is the high-quality clay. You can take it back to the City of Phantoms.

A pot filled with clay sat on the table. Lu Li summoned Elder Sister.