Unless he was prepared to stage an immediate mutiny, confronting the city lord face-to-face was entirely pointless.
If he were responsible, he would never confess and questioning him would only alert the enemy. If he weren't, asking him would yield nothing anyway.
The steward, having been vetted by Diana, was actually far more trustworthy than the city lord himself.
However, it was impossible for Lynch's party of four to question the steward personally, nor was Dr. Sven suited for the task. Knight Terry was the best man for the job.
After rushing to four different locations to deal with the emergencies, it was now four or five in the afternoon. Wisps of cooking smoke rose throughout the city, painting a tranquil and peaceful picture on the surface.
Who could have guessed that beneath such a placid exterior lay a tempest of raging tides and fierce winds?
The third day is almost over. Can we smoothly make it through this memory and successfully return to our own era?
The three of them exchanged glances and smiled at one another.
We definitely can, as long as we keep moving forward!
Before leaving, Terry had arranged everything, dispatching his trusted soldiers to conduct a city-wide search. Fortunately, with a population of only eight thousand—fewer than two thousand households—they should be able to finish before dark.
As guests, the three naturally had no need to hustle about with the ordinary soldiers. Taking advantage of the temporary lull before any new incidents erupted, they quickly made a round through the city to inspect the three planting sites.
The growth was impressive.
The ten seeds planted on the first day had already begun to bear fruit. Fist-sized, drab grey fruits hung from the bushes, looking not the least bit endearing.
Facial features had yet to form. At a casual glance, Lynch thought they resembled apples from his previous life and felt a sudden urge to pluck one for a taste. Remembering that these things were highly toxic, however, he wisely decided to spare his own life.
Meanwhile, the five planted yesterday morning had already bloomed. The pistils of each flower bulged unnaturally, resembling human faces upon closer inspection and exuding an unsettling, sinister aura.
I actually think it looks a little cute. I've definitely been hanging around cultists for too long.
Lynch glanced at Judy. It was fortunate they had brought her along this time; otherwise, the language barrier alone would have been an insurmountable obstacle.
Besides, as long as she was by his side, Lynch didn't worry no matter how daunting the crisis was—she was his greatest trump card.
With the number of plants needing irrigation increasing, the amount of blood Lynch had to supply grew significantly as well. Today required another two buckets of diluted blood.
Losing so much blood two days in a row was indeed pushing it, but it was still manageable. Lynch gritted his teeth and endured it. After personally watering all the human-faced fruits within the city, the three made their way around to the city's East Gate.
The East Gate, normally bustling with activity, was now utterly deserted.
No travelers were entering the city anymore; the nearby ghouls had presumably scared away almost everyone in the surrounding area. The farmers outside had taken shelter inside the city walls early on, not daring to step outside. Word had it that ghouls were appearing outside with increasing frequency today, with several farmers having close encounters. A few travelers who had tried their luck at fleeing to other cities barely escaped ghoul attacks, fleeing back to Norin in sheer panic.
It seems Dr. Sven is being very cautious. Fearing the plague might spread, she had her fellow ghouls completely seal off the surrounding area.
That works out well, too. At least no one will happen to witness what we're doing.
The three slipped quietly out of the city and into the forest, watering the final batch of human-faced fruits. Once they confirmed that all the crops were growing normally, they returned to the northern fortress with peace of mind.
Knight Terry had not returned yet, but soldiers were already trickling back.
However, they brought no good news: the missing portion of contaminated food remained unfound, meaning the sharp sword still hung over everyone's heads.
Perhaps the only good news was that, for the moment, there was no worse news.
Dr. Sven was still busy at the training grounds. Even from afar, one could feel the occasional surges of mysterious filth—a clear sign that she was continuing her research.
The moment she saw Lynch's group return, Dr. Sven immediately halted her work, rushed over, and threw her arms around Lynch in a tight embrace.
???
The group was completely stunned. Only Officer Natalie rolled her eyes, stepping forward quickly to haul the oblivious female ghoul away.
“Look all you want, but strictly no touching.”
“That food has already been brought over!” Dr. Sven spoke rapidly, her voice trembling with excitement. “With these fresh samples, I am confident I can formulate the medicine no later than tomorrow noon! You have truly been a tremendous help. If this city is ultimately saved, more than half the credit belongs to you!”
Yet Lynch felt a sudden pang in his heart. He suddenly truly understood why Officer Natalie had warned him upon entering not to get too attached to these people.
It's all just an illusion.
In reality, you weren't saved. You all died.
Even if I save everyone, even if all of you are grateful to us, so what? Once the memory of the relic ends, this rescue and this gratitude will fade away right along with it.
Bitterness spread through his heart. In this moment, Lynch genuinely regretted investing so much emotion into the figures of this memory.
Having been tempered by countless video games in his past life, however, he quickly realized something: Isn't this just like playing a game?
True, once you turn off a game, it's all fake, and restarting means everything is gone. But I haven't come away empty-handed. Not only have I gained needed experience and knowledge, but I didn't help them for their gratitude anyway—I did it because I wanted to. I followed my own heart in making every choice. What matters is that I did it and found satisfaction in the process. Nothing else really matters.
The haze in his eyes quickly dissolved, replaced by a clear, focused gaze. “There's no need to be so polite. Doing this gives me what I want as well—we're each getting what we need. Besides, I told you before: we stand with you because you're the one tirelessly working to solve this crisis. If anyone deserves your thanks, it's yourself. So, did you find anything wrong with that food? What are the results?”
“The source of the plague was hidden right in that food. To be precise, the meat and fruit were perfectly fine—only the flour and bread had problems,” Dr. Sven stated with certainty. “Earlier, the stomach contents were mixed together, making it difficult to distinguish, but with these new samples, I can confirm that the tampering occurred in the flour. I probably won't have time to head back tonight. You've been running around helping us all day, so go back and rest early. If anything comes up, I'll send someone to inform you. Tomorrow... who knows what might happen.”
Lynch had been thinking the exact same thing—to take advantage of the calm to rest and preserve his strength. Before he could agree, however, he saw Knight Terry hurrying back.
“That food was indeed collected from the City Lord's residence. And... it was Locke himself who oversaw its preparation on the city lord's orders. Locke said the smoked meat and fruit came straight from the kitchen, the very same food the household normally eats. Only the flour... was freshly ground. Once milled, it was packed up for them to take.”
“Why grind fresh flour?”
“Locke said it was the city lord's requirement. He said he didn't want outsiders eating the exact same food as his family, so he had Locke grind four sacks of flour to the same standard.”
Lynch found the reasoning strange, though not entirely implausible. However... he exchanged glances with the ladies as a grave realization dawned on them.
“So, the real issue is likely the very grain used to grind that flour?” Dr. Sven was startled as well. “Where did he get the grain? The Jackson family's private stash?”
Knight Terry answered, “No, it was this year's early-harvest wheat—the batch that households have been delivering to the threshing floor's barn.”
Lynch could no longer sit still. If so, it wasn't necessarily just the flour that had been tampered with—it was very likely the entire batch of grain! Unable to remain seated, he stood up abruptly and said, “Let's go take a look.”
Rate on N.U.
