Chapter 230

Chapter 230

"Why aren't you speaking?" The priest looked at the silent black cat. "You didn't come here without figuring this out, did you?"

"No," the black cat replied honestly. "I'm just waiting for my companion."

Priest: "?"

"I'll look for evidence while you're here."

Priest: ...

"There's no need to be so straightforward."

"Surprisingly sincere.jpg"

The priest's expression darkened as his gaze fell on Cornelia. "Are you really going to let these outsiders slander me and do nothing about it?"

Cornelia felt awkward too. "I'm sorry, Father. If you turn out to be innocent, I will apologize to you."

As her voice faded, Matcha Latte rushed over excitedly, "Found them! Potassium chlorate and red phosphorus!"

She held the two powders and approached Black Cat, who now had a changed expression.

"Let me explain simply. When these two powders mix and encounter any impact, they'll immediately emit light and heat. If there's flammable material around, it might ignite," Black Cat explained, taking out a blade of grass.

This was something that Black Cat's group had discovered when they first arrived in the town. The people here didn't use kerosene lamps but instead burned this special grass that glowed with a faint white light once ignited.

Black Cat conducted an experiment on the spot. He mixed the two powders and placed them on the blade of grass, then struck it with a wooden stick. The grass immediately caught fire, radiating a dazzling glow.

"Oh, so it works like a firecracker," Matcha Latte mused, "We've been playing with those since we were kids."

"Exactly. You created something similar to a firecracker by combining two reactive powders and attaching them with a string. On the other end, you placed ice. Each hut has a triangular roof eave, so when the ice melts, the powder mixture, connected by the thin string, falls onto the grass from the other side of the eave, causing a burning reaction. The evidence is the white powder and black scorch marks left by the burned grass, all outside the window," Black Cat paused.

"With the curtains blocking the view, anyone would think it's daytime at first glance! And a very bright one at that!" the Druid realized. "The Night Watchman would be startled awake by the sound of the firecrackers, look out the window, and be misled by the grass's glow into thinking it's already time to get up, rushing out of their room."

"Therefore, they broke the rule of not leaving the house at night," Cornelia sighed. "You killed them by exploiting the rule. No wonder the corpses were in such a state. You didn't even need to leave the house; just set up the mechanism."

"I see, we did a similar experiment back in junior high or high school,"

"Firecrackers have been a part of our play since childhood, but I never imagined they could be used in such a way to take a life."

"Certainly, by attaching an ice block to the other end of the thin string... once the time is right, the ice would melt on its own, and by day, the water would have evaporated."

"What about the string? Did it burn away? How convenient?"

"It's possible that the grass blade burned the string away, but I suspect the priest might have collected it when he investigated, considering it as evidence."

"That doesn't add up. I'm still puzzled. Didn't the rule actually manifest last night? And that voice..."

"The thread, I suspect, wasn't completely burned. Perhaps we should search the church to see where he's hidden it," the black cat scratched its head. "To be honest, if this were reality, we would have known the culprit from that single hair."

The Druid agreed, "Indeed, we've taken quite a roundabout path. No wonder there are hardly any detectives in reality."

The black cat turned to the silent priest, "Should we look for the evidence ourselves?"

"No need," the priest replied casually. "In this town, only I possess such items."

"I thought nobody here had scientific knowledge. But who would've thought that a priest, who seems so superstitious, is actually a scientist!" Matcha Latte commented sarcastically. "There's a chemistry lab in the basement downstairs."

"It's not my preference, but Jim, the late bell-ringer, had a fascination with them," the priest said calmly. "He didn't fall for it, lifted the window to look outside, and discovered the silver moon high in the sky."

"So you killed him?" the black cat asked tentatively. "Then why did you choose to live in the watchtower?"

"Out of concern that his friend might not fall for it too," the druid quipped.

The priest fell silent, neither confirming nor denying the druid's remark.

"Sister... why... why did you do this?" Cornelia looked at the priest with confusion in her eyes. "You can't be a harbinger of death. You've been living in this town for almost a decade."

"I wasn't at first," the priest replied. "Do you remember? Three years ago, two travelers passed through this village and stayed here for two days. It was my responsibility to take care of them during that time."

"Just two days? That's enough to turn you into a harbinger of death, to kill Jim, and attempt to kill all of us!?" Cornelia exclaimed, disbelief etched on her face. "Are you mad? What did they do to you?!"

"Nothing," the priest murmured. "They just told me the truth – the truth that both you and I were unwilling to face."

"What truth?" the black cat probed, glancing at Cornelia, who had pressed her lips together tightly. "Don't say..."

"Didn't you wonder why so many people died last night?" The priest tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"Don't say anything."

"It's because a new rule has emerged, one that bears a striking resemblance to the method you deduced – making you believe that dawn has arrived, tricking you into opening the door."

"..."

"A long, long time ago," the priest turned around and looked up at the faceless statue in the center of the church, "an unfortunate incident occurred to someone who ventured out at night. After that, the likelihood of mishaps during the night grew, leading to the first rule."

"Someone was so consumed by anxiety that they didn't sleep, eventually dying from it. That's when the second rule came into existence."

"When the patrol team was first established, a young man in white was bullied and tormented by a few patrollers. He met a tragic end, and then, suddenly, the third and fifth rules appeared within the town."

"Whenever someone dies, there's a high chance that a new rule will emerge, closely linked to the deceased," the priest continued. "Then more people would perish under this new rule, perpetuating a vicious cycle. Do you know why this happens?"

The church fell silent.

The black cat silently summoned Randolph Carter's diary entry.

"Due to the corruption of the evil god, they have become akin to caged bombs."

...

"Initially, we believed that by ridding ourselves of the tainted Pures and secluding the remaining ones within our domain, we'd be safe. Little did we know that the crimson moon in the sky, the malevolent deities of the Dream World, continued to corrupt them," Bestia explained.

...

"The root cause of all this is us!" The priest gritted his teeth, his eyes wide with exertion as tears welled up from the strain, yet he refused to look away from the faceless statue. "We contaminated the divine!"

...

"The issue lies in the fact that the mythic rituals are still in effect. The corruption of the Pures' minds will distort the established myths, thereby affecting the Old Gods," Bestia sighed deeply. Even the comforting lick of her kitten on her chin couldn't alleviate her despair.

"Therefore, we need the Pures to forget, to erase their faces, their records, and their names. They must not appear before the others."

...

"We were never meant to exist in this world! It's because of us that it has turned into a nightmare! Our thoughts and desires have become the venom that slays gods. Because of us, the deities are dwindling, and this Dream World has become a desolate state. We are the criminals this world no longer needs! Only with our deaths can the gods find relief, and this world can improve!"

The priest spun around fiercely, his hands gesticulating wildly in the air like the wings of a raven, his words and expression laced with potent rhetoric. "So why cherish this life when this world is already a hell? It's no longer suitable for us to survive. Wouldn't it be easier to die sooner rather than later? Why won't you willingly return to death?"

This is... the harbinger of death.

The black cat and the druid were relatively composed, but the onlooking residents and Cornelia wore expressions of stunned disbelief. The sudden revelation had left their minds blank with shock.