“So, we have absolutely nothing to do with your father, and we were quite surprised when he exposed my identity.”
Although backed by thousands of years of knowledge from his former world, Lynch was essentially an introverted shut-in with poor social skills, knowing little of professional rhetoric or interpersonal communication.
He didn't think his lying skills were that great, nor did he think he could come up with a decision or excuse that was flawless. Rather than wracking his brain to construct a lie to deceive someone, it was better to simply treat them with sincerity.
After all, the other party had already employed a scheme to sow discord. At this moment, any lie would completely undermine the trust built over the past four days. To neutralize this clumsy attempt at division, he had to thoroughly eliminate the doubts that had taken root in her mind.
And what better way to explain their previous concealments than with a story so absurd?
No one of sound mind would invent such an exaggerated reason as an excuse. Conversely, before trust was completely shattered, such a reason forced one to believe it—especially in the eyes of an experienced arcanist.
The real trouble, however, would come after she believed it.
Whether she would give up and give in, commit extreme actions, or turn back to collaborate with the old ghoul were all uncertain factors.
Still, through their interactions over the past few days, Lynch had reasonable faith in Dr. Sven's emotional resilience. She should be able to handle it without suffering a mental breakdown.
Yet the female doctor's reaction exceeded his expectations entirely.
After listening, Dr. Sven lowered her head and remained silent for a long time. Then, she let out a soft sigh and spoke faintly:
“I mentioned before that my father was the tribe's priest, but I didn't mention that he was also a fanatical follower of our king. Before I left home, while his faith was fanatical, it was at least somewhat normal. But when I returned, I realized his faith had spiraled out of control. At some point, he began claiming he could hear Mordiggian's guidance, and he did many things that harmed our people's interests.”
“The gradual departure of our tribe members back to the main group was related to his actions. Those deeds also shook the tribe's faith in Mordiggian, leading them to destroy his holy statue. Yet even that couldn't stop my father's fervor for the King of Ghouls. So when the others recounted what you overheard, I understood. This really is something he would do. It seems my father somehow encountered an avatar of the King of Ghouls and wants to use this sacrifice to awaken it, guiding the main body of the King of Ghouls to descend.”
“When I asked my kin for help a few days ago, I didn't actually want to slaughter everyone—I just wanted to control the situation as much as possible. But according to you, my actions in that original timeline, and my kin's willingness to help me, must have been because they discovered my father and Mordiggian were orchestrating everything behind the scenes. I suppose after this event, the kin who left in history would be filled with resentment toward my father and Mordiggian, likely abandoning their faith in the King of Ghouls and turning hostile toward it instead... Though it seems I'll never get to witness that.”
So that was it.
The tense expressions on the four companions relaxed. Lynch nodded and said, “You believe this explanation? To be honest, if I didn't know the truth myself, I wouldn't have believed it.”
Dr. Sven cast a peculiar glance at him and spoke in a strange tone: “Do you really realize what you just did? Setting aside the plausibility of your story for a moment, you are recounting to a person what she once did—or is about to do. Every sentence you spoke made me think, 'I really would do that' and 'So it can be done that way,' rather than 'How could I ever do such a thing?' If you told someone else, of course they'd be suspicious, but as the person involved, how could I possibly doubt it?”
That made surprising sense. Lynch's lip twitched, and he gave a dry laugh. “I see... but you seem very calm. You don't look bewildered at all.”
“To tell you the truth, it's hard for me to fully process what you've said, and I don't care to try, because these things can neither be proven true nor proven false. To me, they are meaningless. What difference does it make if I know? Could I abandon what I believe is right just because of such a possibility? Impossible. And when everything ends and resets to the beginning, I won't remember any of this anyway. So I won't overthink it—I'll just treat it as an interesting story. Now that the story is over, I still need to follow my heart and make the choice I believe is right.”
An involuntary look of admiration appeared in Lynch's eyes. This woman possessed greater resilience and composure than he had imagined.
“If what you said is true, try to help us resolve all this if you get the chance in the future. Just hearing about it sounds exhausting. If there's no chance, then forget it—it's not like I'd know anyway,” the female doctor said with a casual wave, her attitude easygoing. “As repayment... didn't you want the Necronomicon? I can give it to you right now.”
“You didn't hide it, but kept it on you?”
“Mm-hmm. I can hand it over to you anytime.”
“A pity we can't bring it out with us,” Lynch sighed. “Let's stick to our original agreement. Just tell us its location at the very end.”
Dr. Sven looked deeply at Lynch, the tightness around her mouth softening. “Alright, then let me handle current matters first. This was found on an infected person who actively ran out to attack the patrol. It was addressed to me, so the soldiers delivered it here.”
Hey.
That sly ghoul was testing him till the very last second. Good thing he hadn't planned on lying to her; otherwise, he might have actually been caught.
Fortunately, the trust crisis was finally resolved. With their rear secured, they could focus all their energy on dealing with Old Sven.
Lynch let out a long breath, took the ghoul's letter, and scanned it a few times before nodding with a somber expression. He passed it to Judy.
He couldn't read it.
Judy quickly read it aloud. It was roughly as Dr. Sven had described: Old Sven was proposing a deal.
As Lynch listened to Judy read the letter, his eyes stayed fixed on the city lord, falling into deep thought.
“Actually, I think this demand isn't bad,” Dr. Sven reminded him as she saw Lynch frowning in thought. “Earlier, if I hadn't suspected you were Mordiggian's believers colluding with my father, my reaction wouldn't have been so extreme.”
“Setting aside your story and judging from a normal perspective, time is on our side. As long as we delay until everyone receives the medicine, we won't have to worry about the threat of the plague for now. Meanwhile, the plague canopy hovering over the city will continue to dilute, giving us plenty of time to flush them out. It's much better than an outbreak tonight.”
“I'm afraid it won't be that simple.” Miss Diana was the one who understood Lynch's concerns. “There are many problems with this letter.”
“What problems?”
“Perhaps Mr. Sven, like you, doesn't plan to dwell on whether the world will disappear and reset when time is up. That explains why he would consider what happens after you leave. But since he even knows where you come from, could he really be ignorant of what we are doing?” Miss Diana shook her head. “If he knows, why would he propose such a deal?”
“The only explanation is that he's actually buying time for himself as well. Whether using various methods to sow discord between us or proposing this deal, it's all for this purpose.” Lynch sneered with his pipe dangling from his mouth. “We are buying time to distribute the medicine. What about him? What is he stalling for?”
“To find our weakness and ensure he achieves his goal before the plague erupts,” Officer Natalie said with a cold face. “These cultists will never stop destroying order. Even at the final moment, they'll exert every effort to commit evil.”
The five of them looked at one another, seeing the vigilance in each other's eyes.
The enemy had launched their counteroffensive, but they had yet to see through the assault. Now it felt as if time was on the enemy's side instead. Could having plenty of time really allow them to bypass the obstacle of the city lord being stolen away by Lynch—
“Wait.” Dr. Sven grabbed Lynch's arm so tightly she almost snapped his wrist. “What did you just say?”
“I said my arm is broken.”
The female doctor ignored him, speaking anxiously: “I've got it! If they were prepared in advance, there really is a way to bypass the obstacle of the city lord's life... but it requires an undisturbed environment and... time.”
The four listeners' expressions grew subtle. Lynch pressed, “What method? What needs to be prepared in advance?”
“Blood Link. It's a mystery ritual that requires preparing Jackson's blood,” Dr. Sven explained. “Through the connection of bloodlines, the effect can be applied directly to the main body, extracting a portion of his soul.”
“A portion?”
“Yes. The actual effect is far worse than it should be, but if he merely wants to cultivate a vessel for Mordiggian, it's still achievable. However, this ritual has extreme limitations and almost no practical value, because it requires a massive amount of blood—more than half of his total blood volume. It can't be drawn all at once and must be spread across several months in separate sessions. The preparation process is also quite tedious. No one would go through such immense effort for a minor possibility without a good reason.”
“Now there is one,” Lynch sighed. “As the old saying goes, 'be prepared for any contingency.' If your father requested it under the pretext of needing it for a resurrection ritual, the city lord would definitely cooperate fully and provide an ample supply of his blood.”
That single sentence left Dr. Sven speechless and unable to refute. Beside them, Officer Natalie stood up abruptly, grabbing her sidearm sword.
“Come back.” Lynch grabbed the silly girl's arm. “Where do you think you're going?”
“He might have already started! We can't sit here and take a beating passively,” the police officer said solemnly. “At the very least, we should charge in and eliminate him.”
“The space in there is so tight you wouldn't even be able to swing your sword. Plus, there could be traps everywhere, not to mention enemies of at least mid-tier strength. Who do you think is going to eliminate whom?” Lynch casually pressed her back into her chair. “Besides, don't you find it strange why he sent us this letter in the first place?”
“Huh?”
“If he just wanted to buy time, he could have secretly hidden in a hole to make preparations. By the time the effects kicked in and we realized something was wrong, a long time would have already passed. He would have bought far more time than he has now,” Miss Diana shook her head pityingly, explaining patiently. “Why did he write this letter?”
“Huh?”
“It's likely because doing it this way yields a far worse outcome, and he wants to offer his master the finest vessel possible. That's why he sent this letter,” Lynch took over this time. “He wants to use this method to force us into throwing away our lives or simply fleeing. Once we're out of the picture and Dr. Sven is the only one left with mysterious powers, he'll have countless ways to kill the city lord.”
“Huh?”
“So we—”
“Will you two give it a break! Show some restraint!” The female officer finally lost her temper, angrily leaving a footprint on Lynch's leg. “I know it's dangerous, but there has to be a way to deal with it! What else should we do—wait here to die?”
Miss Diana sighed, her expression somewhat hesitant.
They were indeed caught in a dilemma. The opponent had made their stance clear: either come to throw their lives away or hide and wait to die. There was no third path. As for the so-called deal, it was merely a pretext to buy time for the Blood Link.
“No, perhaps there is one,” Lynch stared at the city lord, an eerie and sinister look appearing in his eyes.
Hmm? The four women in the room turned their gazes toward him simultaneously.
Officer Natalie pressed, “Is there what?”
“A third path.” Lynch lowered his voice mysteriously. “Essentially, the problem right now is that the enemy needs that little monster to devour the city lord's soul and life force to complete the final missing puzzle piece. So I was thinking... what if the city lord's soul and life force were corrupted? Once it swallows them, can it still complete itself?”
“Corrupted by what? The plague? The plague corrupts the body, not the soul and life force,” Dr. Sven shook her head. “And the plague itself originated from little Jack, so it won't affect it, let alone disrupt the ritual. It's useless.”
“What if it's corrupted by my head?” Lynch pulled out a human-faced fruit, poked its face, and quickly dodged as it snapped at him. “I remember you saying that no matter what material this thing is used for, it will definitely make the outcome twisted. Conceptually, this thing seems to represent me. So is it possible to conceptually merge this thing with the city lord's soul and life force? That way, his soul becomes a twisted raw material. When the enemy devours his soul... bam! God only knows what twisted effect it will bring, but it's unlikely to be the outcome they want.”
Hiss... how ruthless. The women gave him strange looks. Regardless of the outcome, the city lord was certainly beyond redemption.
Lynch merely shrugged. “Just making use of waste. Tell me, is it feasible?”
“It might actually be possible. It's worth a try.” Dr. Sven pondered for a long time before slowly nodding, though she looked at Lynch with concern. “But you must understand that doing this will have a huge impact on you. The human-faced fruit conceptually represents you to some extent. So when it corrupts the city lord's concept, it will also backfire onto you. Your soul will be continuously eroded by high-concentration filth until the corruption is complete. This is extremely dangerous. Almost no one can endure that level of erosion—unless you possess extraordinary willpower, you'll soon be twisted into a monster yourself.”
Isn't that a coincidence? Lynch spread his hands. “I might not be confident about other things, but when it comes to inspiration and willpower, I have a tiny bit of confidence.”
“Then I understand. We can risk it all and give it a shot.”
Everyone looked at the crazy human head. They all understood that whether they could break the enemy's final counterattack depended entirely on this gamble.
The dice had been cast; life and death were in the hands of fate.
Rate on N.U.
