Chapter 178: Chapter 182: A Peaceful Tomorrow Will Still Come
The noise in his mind rose and fell, as though a massive source of interference hovered around his brain, now close, now distant. The antique shop in his view maintained its stability; however, from time to time, dark things flitted between the shelves, as if to show the reckless Visitor a perilous truth from Subspace.
Morris sat cautiously in front of the counter, containing his thoughts and emotions. In the brief lucidity granted by the God of Wisdom Rahm, he pondered each question with limited and earnest effort.
The conversation continued. As long as the man opposite him, whom he referred to as “Mr. Duncan,” delighted in it, Morris, as the “companion,” was obliged to entertain him.
However, Duncan was not talking at the moment—he too was deep in thought, contemplating matters related to the Black Sun and the contamination of history.
After a deathly silence filled with piercing noise, Morris suddenly heard a deep voice from the other side, “One last question. If something really is contaminating history, how would you resolve that issue?”
“Is someone really… contaminating history?” Morris asked slowly, raising his head and looking at Duncan with confusion. “Who do you mean?”
“It doesn’t matter who,” Duncan said indifferently. “It might be Subspace, the Black Sun, or some other heretical deity. In any case, if something is trying to contaminate history, how should it be resolved? How do the Fire Transmitters deal with such a crisis?”
Morris paused for a moment and then shook his head hesitantly, “I… I’m sorry, I can’t answer that. It’s beyond my scope of knowledge. Even for the Fire Transmitters, probably only the most powerful saints or the Chosen Ones know the secrets within the course of history—after all, most Fire Transmitters are like the Storm Church’s guardians, their day-to-day work involves eliminating heretics and purifying contamination. True contamination of history is almost impossible to happen…”
“…Indeed, my question was too probing, burdening you,” Duncan sighed lightly, realizing that his curiosity had probably put considerable psychological pressure on the old man before him, so he decisively ended the current topic, “Let’s stop here for today.”
A wave of unprecedented relief suddenly swept over Morris, and he instantly relaxed.
His mind had been foggy ever since the conversation began, his thoughts intermittent. Many questions surfaced, but he couldn’t organize them. Now that Duncan was willing to end the conversation voluntarily, there was nothing he wished for more.
Duncan, on the other hand, lifted his head and glanced outside through the glass display case.
Judging by time, sunset was still a while away, but the gloomy sky had already turned everything outside pitch black. The gas street lamps had lit up prematurely, casting their bright yellow glow on the streets, while the somber clouds above made the Lower City District seem as if it had been plunged into night early.
“The weather looks bad,” Duncan withdrew his gaze and looked at the old man opposite him. “Would you like to stay? Nina should already have the meal prepared.”
A surge of panic suddenly pounded in Morris’s heart, and he remembered a saying popular in the Academy of Truth, describing those most legendary Scholars pursuing knowledge with the fiercest zeal—
“Swimming through Subspace, boasting before the Evil God, witnessing the strife of gods, scrounging a meal with their kin.”
If he were to consider this antique shop, now occupied by “Mr. Duncan,” as Subspace, if Mr. Duncan’s status was on par with that of the deities, if there really was a clash between this Shadow of Subspace and the God of Wisdom, then he had now achieved three out of the four great wonders…
At this moment, going upstairs for a bowl of soup seemed like it would indeed make him a legend on the spot!
Morris was amazed that he could spare a thought for such chaotic things at a time like this, but he carefully formulated his language, “Actually…”
“Actually, you want to leave, right?” Duncan didn’t let the old man finish before nodding in understanding, still somewhat self-aware. “Although I would say that with this poor weather, staying for a hot bowl of soup might be better for you, it seems that the comfort it offers isn’t quite enough compared to the pressure you’ve been under sitting across from me?”
Morris quickly stood up and nodded as he took the opportunity, “Frankly, every minute and second here is a torment—of course, I mean no offense, it’s just…”
“There’s no need to explain. I understand,” Duncan waved dismissively, his expression carrying a bit of resignation, “If there was a more relaxed way of meeting, I’d still like to have a proper talk with you about history and the gods. I’m very interested in knowledge—the kind without malice, but it looks like that won’t happen this time.”
Standing beside the counter, Morris fell silent upon hearing the words from across. After a while, he met Duncan’s gaze, “Honestly, I’ve been distracted several times and almost forgot the ‘truths’ I’ve witnessed. Your… curiosity and friendliness are so genuine, like talking with a friend. I’ve never met anyone as approachable as you, a… a…”
The old man stumbled, seemingly unable to find the right term of praise. Seeing this, Duncan chuckled, “No need to search for the right words. Just don’t report me to anyone after you leave.”
“No, no, no! I would never do that!” Morris started waving his hands vehemently as if afraid Duncan might misunderstand something, “After all, you definitely saved Heidi’s life, and you’ve been friendly throughout. I have no reason to report you—especially considering…”
The elderly gentleman hesitated for a moment and spread his hands with a bitter smile, “Judging by your demeanor, you don’t seem to fear any sort of ‘reporting,’ do you…”
“It would be bothersome,” Duncan said offhandedly, “but probably not a big problem.”
Then he paused slightly, looked up in the direction of the second floor, and turned his gaze back to Morris, “If the weather clears up tomorrow, Nina will go to school as usual.”
“Nina…” Morris blinked, remembering the arc of flame he had seen, as well as the matter he had just discussed with Duncan, especially the part about the Black Sun, and connecting it to the attitude Duncan had just displayed, he already vaguely guessed something, “Is Nina… related to what those Sun Heretics worship…”
He didn’t finish the question because Duncan gently shook his head.
“Nina is just Nina, you don’t need to be curious about the secrets behind her,” Duncan said softly, “Treat her as usual, and nothing will happen.”
“…I understand,” Morris nodded slightly, for some reason feeling more relieved after hearing Duncan’s words, then he stepped back a couple of steps, “Then I should take my leave, please say goodbye to Nina for me—I’m not in the right state to ‘see’ her right now.”
Duncan hummed a response and came around from behind the counter to escort the elderly gentleman to the front door.
The street was nearly devoid of pedestrians, save for the glow of streetlights illuminating the cloud-covered City-State, with the cold wind twisting and turning between the buildings, carrying an increasingly heavy dampness.
Morris tightened his overcoat and pressed down on the short top hat he was wearing, but before heading to his car, he couldn’t help but stop and look back once more at Duncan, who was still standing at the storefront.
What he saw was a middle-aged man with a peaceful smile; the distant street scene occasionally flickered, but no longer looked as terrifying and abnormal as at the beginning.
“Mr. Duncan,” Morris suddenly said, “you actually like this place a lot, don’t you?”
“Right, I am quite fond of it,” Duncan smiled and waved to the old man, “So go home in peace, Pland will safely welcome tomorrow—and every day that follows.”
Morris took off his hat, nodded gently at Duncan, and turned to walk to his car parked by the roadside.
Duncan didn’t take his eyes off the car until it started up and disappeared at the end of the street.
But he didn’t go straight back inside; instead, he stood at the door, deep in thought.
The first question on his mind was whether the old man would actually report him after heading back…
The conclusion was extremely unlikely—if he had just been an ordinary Heretic, or even a slightly higher-ranking Sun Priest, then Morris, as a faithful Believer of the true gods, would have certainly reported him without hesitation. However, today, Duncan suspected that in the old man’s eyes, he might be seen as possessing the visage of an ancient god, and the probability of being reported had therefore almost dropped to zero.
The reason was simple—if you report a few Heretics, a couple of security officers could wrap them up easily, if you report a Cult Priest, a few guards could take them down on the spot, but what if what was entrenched here was a Subspace Evil God? To what level would one have to report that?
Forget the community church, even reporting to the Bishop of the City-State would be pointless…
Muttering a couple of sentences to one’s own God of Wisdom would be more reliable than reporting to the church.
Even without considering all that, Duncan wasn’t actually that concerned about Morris potentially making a report.
After all, even Fenna, the Judge at the pinnacle of strength within the Storm Church, seemed a bit too green in his eyes…
What Duncan was more concerned about right now was actually Nina’s condition.
The surging, burning arc of flame… This was the “truth” that Morris, with the Eye of Truth bestowed by the God of Wisdom, had seen in Nina.
“Sun Shard…” Duncan looked up at the darkening sky outside, muttering to himself in a low voice, “What on earth is the Sun of this world…”