Endless Debt Chapter 1160 - 20: Confession

York still vividly recalled the catastrophe that had transpired a month prior. It commenced with a violent tremor, after which the very earth and sky seemed to convulse. At that precise moment, York had just stepped onto the street when a powerful wave of seismic energy obliterated a significant portion of the town. Numerous structures crumbled into heaps of debris, and panicked screams echoed as individuals scattered in every direction.

This cataclysm was initially believed to be the culmination of the disaster, but fate had other plans; it was merely the prologue. As York called out to the townspeople, urging them to seek refuge in the open areas, the ground beneath their feet appeared to rupture, collapsing inward. Vast chasms snaked around the perimeter of the town, ultimately consuming it entirely as the earth split open.

When the deafening tremors finally ceased, and York, shaking off the dust, rose from the wreckage, the clear sky was gone. In its place was a desolate gray expanse. A colossal rock formation, resembling immense walls, now encircled Gray Stone Town, effectively trapping its inhabitants within, like a formidable cage.

"What a truly terrifying disaster..."

York let out a soft sigh, lowering his head and closing his eyes in a moment of silent prayer. As the sole priest of the town, for the past month following the calamity, his primary role, aside from aiding others, had been to offer prayers for both the departed and the survivors, hoping to bring solace through his devotion.

"Father York."

Townsfolk passed by, offering respectful nods to York, their gazes reflecting a deep admiration.

He was a benevolent priest, held in high esteem throughout Gray Stone Town.

Slender yet possessing an upright posture, he stood at approximately one meter eighty, presenting a tall and dignified figure. Around fifty years of age, his hair was naturally short, complemented by a neat mustache. Though his face bore numerous wrinkles, his eyes remained perpetually bright and warm, always offering comforting smiles to those he encountered.

In his capacity as the town's priest, York eschewed ostentatious clerical vestments, opting instead for a simple yet impeccably tailored black cassock, paired with a white shirt, black trousers, and black leather shoes. His attire, far from being showy or dazzling, exuded an understated elegance and dignity.

A small cross was affixed to the chest of his cassock, devoid of any superfluous adornments, a conscious choice to avoid implying prominence or status.

Every resident of the town recognized York as a man of profound faith, living an ascetic life, untouched by worldly possessions.

"Father."

Another individual approached, extending respect towards York, who responded with a gentle smile.

"Do you perhaps have some time this evening?" the person inquired, not moving to depart immediately.

"Oh? What is it, Gami?"

York's gaze fell upon Gami. Within Gray Stone Town, Gami was a figure of some notoriety, a stark contrast to York's own standing. Rumors abounded regarding his past; some whispered of him being a soldier, while others claimed he hailed from the neighboring Oath City, Opus. His origins remained a subject of much speculation, but one certainty was that from his very arrival in Gray Stone Town, he had immersed himself in its less reputable circles.

"You appear remarkably improved."

Normally, Gami presented a disheveled appearance, his hair perpetually greasy, his beard untrimmed. His clothing was often threadbare, stained with mud and grime, and at times, even bearing traces of blood. Gami had been a known figure in the local underworld casinos, a fact rendered moot by the disaster a month prior, which had utterly obliterated such establishments.

"Haha."

Gami let out a short laugh. He now presented a far more presentable image, clad in well-fitting attire and sporting a silver ring on his finger.

Gami offered no comment on York’s observation. Simultaneously, York couldn't help but note that Gami's transformation seemed unusually profound, a stark deviation from his former self.

Could it be that Gami had genuinely earned a living through honest labor and was finally embarking on a more legitimate path?

York found this notion highly improbable, considering the devastating events of the past month. Gray Stone Town had been engulfed by the earth, plunging its inhabitants into a struggle for survival, focused on rescuing the injured, rebuilding the town, and re-establishing contact with the outside world. Nearly everyone had suffered significant losses, yet Gami seemed to have reaped benefits from the calamity.

"Father, I have a matter I wish to entrust to you this evening."

Gami subtly glanced towards the bustling townsfolk nearby, then leaned closer to York, his voice kept low so only the two could hear.

"What is it?"

"I wish to make a confession."

Gami's eyes flickered around, briefly meeting York’s gaze before settling on the small cross adorning his chest.

York’s entire ensemble was rendered in muted gray and black tones, save for the cross, a symbol of his faith. Fashioned from pure gold, it gleamed brilliantly, serving as York’s sole treasured possession.

"Confess?"

York appeared quite taken aback. He had urged Gami on countless occasions to mend his ways and seek a righteous path, yet Gami had never heeded his counsel. To his surprise, Gami was now seeking his guidance of his own accord.

Perhaps the disaster had indeed brought about a change in him, York mused.

"Very well."

The outside world's intel points to the epicenter of this catastrophe being the Great Rift in Oubos, Oath City, where a colossal earthquake struck. Its tremors rippled outwards, carrying the destruction of the Great Rift to this location. This ever-expanding fissure, like grasping tentacles, consumed everything in its path, ultimately engulfing Gray Stone Town.

Perhaps Oubos in Oath City shone too brightly, drawing most of the attention, leaving Gray Stone Town's plight overlooked. Nevertheless, timely rescue efforts managed to save a considerable number of its inhabitants.

Currently, the town is encircled by towering rock formations, obscuring a significant portion of the light and casting a gloomy mist over the entire area.

York ambled through the town's streets. They had become notably constricted and winding, occasionally giving the impression of leading to impassable dead ends.

The townsfolk engaged in fervent discussions about whether to remain or depart. Some advocated for abandoning Gray Stone Town and establishing a new settlement on safer ground, while others resolutely refused to forsake their ancestral homes, even in their current state, hemmed in by imposing walls.

It was rumored that a similar settlement existed within the Great Rift, known as Qiushang Town, though its fate amidst this disaster remained uncertain.

York, however, remained detached from these debates. His sole concern was his capacity to offer aid. He proceeded along the narrow thoroughfare, which soon brought him to the town's edge.

Before York, a narrow gorge opened up, offering a direct passage into the Great Rift. A steep slope descended relentlessly, vanishing into a murky, impenetrable darkness.

Whispers spoke of this gorge as a chance for perilous exploration into the Great Rift's depths, hinting at astonishing discoveries. Conversely, others dismissed this notion, citing unsettling nocturnal sounds emanating from the gorge's depths – akin to the mournful cries of some monstrous beast.

York often found himself standing here, his gaze fixed upon the abyss.

While the town's residents harbored numerous theories about what lay beyond the gorge, there was one unspoken truth they all universally avoided: confronting the darkness there evoked a profound, pervasive fear that paralyzed any impulse to venture further.

York shared this apprehension.

Due to its position within the gorge, darkness descended upon Gray Stone Town prematurely each day. Shadows would creep across the streets, further intensified by the scarcity of streetlights, making the nights exceptionally dim and mysterious. A thick fog frequently enveloped the town, impairing visibility and imbuing the atmosphere with an eerie quality.

At this juncture, York had returned to his humble chapel. The structure bore damage from the earthquake but had mercifully withstood the collapse.

York ignited a candle. Gray Stone Town had lost its power supply, forcing residents indoors after nightfall. The reason for Gami's summons during this evening remained unknown.

"Get well soon," York softly uttered.

A palpable sense of oppression now permeated Gray Stone Town. Conversations were infrequent, and people moved with a subdued haste. The lingering effects of the disaster, coupled with an atmosphere of desolation, often left the inhabitants feeling dejected and isolated.

York settled into the slightly tilted confessional, awaiting Gami's arrival amidst the encroaching darkness.

After a wait exceeding ten minutes, York detected the creak of the main door being pushed open. The newcomer's footsteps were unnervingly light, akin to a thief's. They glided into the confessional booth and then sensed York's presence, their breathing faltering momentarily in the gloom.

York recognized the presence as Gami... indeed, who else would it be?

"What do you wish to confess?"

The other party sidestepped the question, instead inquiring, "Priest, in accordance with the sacred vow of confession, you will not reveal the contents of my confession to anyone, will you?"

"I will not," York affirmed.

"I... I have committed a transgression."

"What transgression have you committed?"

"It is something I cannot voice aloud."

"You may tell me."

A prolonged silence ensued from the darkness, an interval seemingly dedicated to gathering thoughts or composing emotions. Then, after a significant pause, the voice spoke again.

"I did wrong and in doing so, acquired wealth that was not rightfully mine."

The voice trembled with anguish.

"I harmed no one. I merely... I saw the bodies amidst the rubble and reasoned that since they were deceased, their possessions would be of no further use to them, correct?"

York could already surmise the sequence of events. Before he could interject, the voice continued.

"As a Priest, devoted to your faith, you will uphold the sanctity of this confession, won't you?"

Before the sentence concluded, York heard the hurried sound of retreating footsteps. He paused momentarily, and by the time he emerged from the confessional, the figure seeking absolution had already vanished into the vast expanse of the night.

York knew with certainty that the individual was Gami.