A half-meter-tall bush had dusty gray yet extraordinarily dense leaves, bristling with thick, tiny thorns far more dangerous than a rose's.
Carefully parting the layers of leaves and branches, they found three ghastly white fruits hanging in the deepest depths of the bush.
They had complete noses and mouths, their features identical to Lynch's, except their eyes were tightly shut and their pale skin was completely drained of blood.
It was almost as though Lynch's severed head had been hung up by the hair, swaying in the wind—it would look even more convincing if dark red liquid were dripping from the bottom.
The four exchanged glances, completely at a loss for words.
The thing was merely odd once picked, but who could have guessed hanging from a branch would look so eerie?
If allowed to absorb enough life force to grow into a full tree, the fruits would enlarge proportionally to the size of actual human heads. Anyone passing by in the dead of night would probably be scared to death on the spot.
Standing in a circle around this bizarre thing, none of them felt like talking. Lynch, in particular, felt like crying.
Why did it have to be like this? How had the world turned into this? Here he was, doing honest work with noble intentions, yet every single thing he did and every item he used oozed creepiness, making him indistinguishable from a cultist.
“That is how occultism works. Ordinary Soul Severers only need to fight the mysterious, but any act involving forbidden knowledge requires immersing oneself into the eerie and the mysterious. This is merely the beginning.”
Diana offered a gentle smile, thoughtfully trying to ease Lynch’s troubled mind, though her words only made him feel worse.
“Why are there only three? Didn't you say there'd be five or six?” Officer Natalie shifted her troubled gaze between the fruits and Lynch. “And why do they look so shriveled and thin? They don't look quite right. Is this what they look like when chopped off?”
“What are you planning? I'm telling you, murder is illegal.” Lynch covered his neck and sidestepped away. “Though it really is strange—why are there so few?”
Miss Diana looked at the two with a face full of admiration. “So you two really didn't listen to a single word during training.”
Huh? Was that covered in class?
The expressions on both their faces were nearly identical.
The young countess sighed and explained, “Mrs. Nightingale said this plant is closely tied to its growth environment and directly related to the energy of the person watering it. The more vigorous the cultivator's energy, the better it grows. If the cultivator's...”
“Stop! What energy? Don't get weird ideas. I have plenty of energy! I just haven't been sleeping well these past few days, that's all. It doesn't mean anything!”
Lynch's face turned green. Was this damn thing some kind of tester? And it was definitely inaccurate—his energy was overflowing...
“It might just be poor sleep, or an unstable soul, leading to a lack of energy.”
Miss Diana blinked her innocent big eyes, looking at Lynch with complete bewilderment, entirely unable to understand why he suddenly had such a strong reaction.
“Haha, yeah, t-that's exactly what I meant.”
Lynch felt his face burning and quickly averted his gaze, not daring to look into those sparkling eyes.
Two soft chuckles came from the side, drawing a sharp glare from Lynch. You two silly girls understood it and are just here to enjoy the show, aren't you?
Unfortunately, in his flustered state, he failed to notice that the moment he looked away, those innocent big eyes instantly curved into crescent moons, full of sly amusement. Yet by the time he looked back, the young countess's expression had already returned to pure innocence.
“Ahem, this counts as fully grown, right?”
“Mm. Mrs. Nightingale said the fruits mature progressively between forty-eight and seventy-two hours, depending on the situation. The ten we planted on the first day have all entered maturity. As long as we see the head fully formed, it means it's ready to harvest.”
“Finally...”
Enduring the agonizing struggle within this troublesome and dangerous memory over the past few days had all been for these eerie, bizarre things. Now, harvest time had finally arrived. With these, fifth-age medicine would no longer be a problem, leaving him with no more worries for the future.
Lynch glanced at the three ladies, all of whom nodded back at him.
Alright then. Neighbor bless.
Lynch licked his lips, took a deep breath, grabbed the apple-sized fruit, and pulled hard to yank it off.
It came off easily into his hand, but all four of their expressions grew solemn.
“The eyes didn't open.” Miss Diana sighed, whispering, “A stillborn.”
Indeed. After being picked, the fruit's mouth and eyes remained tightly shut, still looking like a lifeless human head, not at all lifelike like the ones brought back by the previous two testers.
Cultivating human-faced fruit was difficult precisely because the final survival rate was low. In reality, these stillborn fruits could also absorb the life force of surrounding living beings to regain vitality.
But that was far too inhumane. Even inside a memory, Lynch had no intention of doing so unless absolutely forced. More importantly, doing so would turn the entire city into an absorption zone, draining Lynch and his companions dead as well, making it completely unviable.
“What a pity.”
If one fruit was stillborn, the entire bush was stillborn. Officer Natalie wore a look of regret and was about to draw her sword to slice down the bush when Lynch beat her to it, swinging his serrated sword while glaring at her.
This silly girl—does getting cut feel good to her or something? Always so eager to do things herself.
The female officer glared back without backing down, though the corners of her mouth curled up slightly. Meanwhile, someone beside them felt something was off, hurriedly stepping between them and solemnly stomping all three stillborn fruits to pieces.
Tsk, my head blew up.
Tsk, my head blew up again.
Lady, why do you look so refreshed and delighted? You do remember you're stomping on human-faced fruit, right?
Fortunately, they had adopted a strategy of casting a wide net, so one stillborn bush meant little—there were nine more in this batch. The four immediately moved to the location of the second plant.
The second plant bore only two fruits, making Lynch even less confident in his energy.
And they were stillborn as well.
Alright, two stillborn bushes in a row wasn't shocking, but when they discovered the third plant was also stillborn, all four began to harbor doubts.
This exceeded the normal mortality rate. Something was wrong.
With anxious hearts, the four found their fourth target.
By now, their initial expectations had faded, replaced by intense anxiety. They just wanted to see the result as soon as possible.
Lynch didn't care about ceremony anymore, grabbing a fruit and pulling it off in one swift motion.
The instant it was yanked off, a shrill, ear-splitting scream suddenly erupted, piercing like a sonic assault.
Son of a bitch.
Lynch almost threw the fruit in his hand away. The three ladies were equally unprepared, leaping back a few steps in surprise, yet joy quickly broke out across all four of their faces.
This was the normal reaction when harvesting a surviving fruit.
First came a scream, like a newborn baby's first cry.
It was just that this thing's cry was a bit terrifying and uncanny, but it didn't matter.
They had been mentally prepared all along, yet encountered stillborn after stillborn. Just when they had lost all hope, it suddenly let out a screech.
Why are you even more asking for a beating than I am? You did that on purpose, didn't you?
Lynch held up the human-faced fruit, staring at it face-to-face.
Sure enough, its eyes and mouth were open. The fruit was eerily lifelike, practically indistinguishable from a real head aside from its size.
But the more he looked at it, the more creeping dread Lynch felt. It only grew creepier by the second.
“This thing of yours is way too creepy.”
Lynch said to the fruit, reaching out to poke its cheek. Yet the instant his finger touched its skin, the fruit's mouth suddenly snapped open, biting down toward his finger just like one of those infected madmen.
Rate on N.U.
