The guardhouse fell silent, and a strange silence seemed to be frozen in the air. The old guard even had the illusion that even the altar on the desk, the candlelight, the incense smoke, and the faint spiritual power in the air were frozen for a moment.

Is it an illusion?

The old man raised his head in confusion and saw the flame of the candlestick flickering in his field of vision, but it seemed as if it only started flickering the moment he raised his head.

He stared at the pale flame for a long time before slowly shaking his head and returning his gaze to the letter in front of him. He read the words with a strange feeling he had never experienced in his life.

But after reading only a few lines, he ignored the feeling of disobedience and embarrassment in his heart - the content of the letter began to make him realize the seriousness of the matter.

Warnings that the city-state is being eroded and infiltrated by the power of the deep sea, evidence of large-scale activities of the Annihilation Cultists, speculation that the Lord of the Deep has invaded the real world, and... a warning about Dagger Island.

The old guard stared at the lines of text on the letter in his hand, and suddenly felt that the unsettling atmosphere that had been spreading in the city-state recently finally had an explanation.

He didn't know whether he should believe this "report" from some unknown existence, but there was one thing that was certain - the gatekeeper and the cathedral must be notified immediately!

※※※

Agatha bent down and carefully checked the Sen'jin lady who was sleeping on the sofa. She was still sleeping soundly, unaware that a large number of guards had gathered in the room, and she even uttered vague and uneasy murmurs in her sleep occasionally.

She could even talk in her sleep, which suggests that her mental state was not impaired during the "attack" and that the uninvited guests who had previously entered the house had no malicious intent.

Agatha's eyes swept over Galoni. The body of this Sen'jin lady could almost be described as burly - most Sen'jin were like this, they were born with well-developed bodies and skin as tough as stone - after a brief inspection, the young gatekeeper found that the other's muscles would tense from time to time, coupled with the vague and uneasy dream talking she just heard... It seemed that this Sen'jin lady's dream was not peaceful.

"No external injuries, no signs of mental pollution, no signs of struggle. It looks like he is just sleeping normally - but he cannot be awakened," a priest in a gray coat stood by and reported the current situation to Agatha. "Considering that the door lock has no signs of damage and there are signs of use in the kitchen, it is preliminarily determined that the 'intruder' was invited into the house."

"…Maybe he's an acquaintance, or maybe he's a guest whose trust I've gained," Agatha whispered softly, "What's the situation on the second floor?"

"We have collected a large number of samples, and also found a death record. The person who left the record should be the source of those...abnormal substances in the room," the pastor nodded. "Also, based on other clues found in the house, we can infer that the person who left the record should be called 'Brown Scott', a folklorist."

"Folklorist?" Agatha frowned. "Have you done any background research?"

"We have sent someone to the nearest residents' management office to pick up the file, but there has been no response yet."

"You guys stay here and take care of this lady first," Agatha nodded, "I'll go to the second floor to check the situation."

"Yes, Your Excellency the Gatekeeper."

In the study on the second floor, the guards had completed the preliminary evidence collection and sample collection at the scene. When Agatha arrived here, her subordinates were trying to clean up the dried "mud" hanging from the bookshelf in order to move the large number of books in the room.

In places where supernatural out-of-control has occurred, the books left at the scene are very likely to be contaminated by supernatural forces, and it is a necessary procedure to transfer and seal these books for research - even if doing so may "destroy the scene".

Agatha's eyes fell on the dried gray-black mud.

These things... reminded her of the samples collected in Cemetery No. 3, those... strange substances that were suspected to be "elements".

She also saw the "death record" that the pastor had mentioned earlier - it was placed in the most conspicuous place on the desk.

The first time she saw the record, Agatha judged that the manuscript had been handled by someone. There were obvious signs of cleaning on its surface, and the cleaning was very meticulous.

This didn't seem like something an intruder with bad intentions would do, but rather something that seemed like something a "professional" like herself would do to investigate the incident for a legitimate purpose. Thinking of the lady who was soundly sleeping on the first floor, Agatha already had some preliminary guesses in her mind.

A mysterious third party, who at least doesn't look like an enemy - are they the same group fighting the Annihilation Cultists in the alley outside?

If so... then we need to pay close attention to the power of this "third party".

With all kinds of conjectures and inferences running through her mind, Agatha's eyes slowly swept over the words on the "Death Record", and as those words imbued with determination, courage and enlightenment came into her sight, the gatekeeper's eyes gradually became heavy and serious.

The owner who left the record... actually retained clear consciousness and memory.

After a brief silence, Agatha took a deep breath, solemnly placed the death record back on the desk, then picked up the cane she carried with her and slowly stroked the floor with the tin end.

★ Illustration 6 ★

The sound of metal rubbing against wood was heard, and a pale flame burned at the end of the staff, leaving an equally pale glowing mark on the floor. As the flame and the glowing mark extended, the sound of the staff rubbing against the floor began to change - it became low and slow, as if a thick barrier had been built invisibly, isolating the surrounding space bit by bit.

Soon, Agatha outlined a triangular area large enough for an adult to stand in, and drew the rune of Bartok, the god of death, within the triangle. She then stepped into the center of the triangle, placing her cane beside her in one hand and reaching for her eye sockets with the other.

A living eyeball jumped out of its socket and fell into the palm of her hand.

In just a moment, the surroundings became quiet, and all sounds from the real dimension were isolated outside the triangle by an invisible barrier. Then, countless whispers emerged in the silence, as if hundreds of invisible peepers were gathering outside the triangle, chattering about something to the gatekeeper.

Agatha raised her hand, palm up, and scanned the surroundings with her eyes.

Everything in the room, including the busy guards, the flying dust in the air, and the hands of the clock on the wall, fell into stillness like solidified amber, and in the stillness, the colors quickly faded and fell into darkness. A strange pale glow diffused in from outside the window, shining through the wooden boards blocking the window, casting a hazy shadow on the room.

In this strange, pale, stagnant space and time, only Agatha in the middle of the triangle still maintained the appearance and color of a living person. She closed her eyes tightly, holding up her eyeballs with her left hand, and said calmly while scanning the surroundings: "I want to talk to the dead here."

The irritating whispers around her suddenly weakened a lot, and Agatha turned her left hand and looked at the desk not far away.

That was the last place where folklorist Brown Scott, who left a "death record", worked. In theory, if there really was a soul that lived here, then some of its afterglow should still be lingering here.

Even though the "mud" that could be seen everywhere in the room showed that the person in the room was most likely just a "monster" condensed by supernatural power, there was obviously humanity in that "monster". Agatha was certain of this after reading the record.

However, she found nothing at the empty desk.

There was no afterglow of the soul, no projection formed by obsession, and not even a flash of spiritual remnant. There was only a colorless table with black matter piled on it and thin smoke rising from the matter.

Agatha's eyeballs swayed slowly in the palm of her hand.

The gatekeeper is thinking.

Is it because the soul has faded away because of the long time since death? Or is it because the person who stayed in this room was just a "fake", so he didn't really have human nature, but just simulated memories and personality? Or... the soul has passed through Bartok's door and entered the resting place?

The last conjecture is particularly unlikely - after all, judging from the current state of the room, even if the soul of "Brown Scott" had stayed here, it had been severely polluted, and a polluted soul... could not pass through that door.

But where has the soul gone?

The low whispers around them started again, and it was even louder and more annoying than before.

The shadows in the spiritual world began to become restless. They did not welcome the sudden intrusion of uninvited guests - even as powerful gatekeepers, it was best not to stay at this depth for too long.

Thinking of this, Agatha raised her cane and tapped it twice on the floor.

The tin cane made a loud noise like thunder when it hit the ground.

"Agatha, the gatekeeper of the world of the dead, wishes to speak with the gatekeeper of the world of the dead."