Endless Debt Chapter 658 - 169: Rainstorm Day

The heavy rain clouds engulfed Free Port, the fierce wind carrying raindrops repeatedly battered the houses, and the already loose and shabby houses began to shake, as if they would be uncovered at any moment.

The room was extremely damp, everything was wet, even the people, the clothes sticking to the body, giving the feeling of having bathed without drying off.

The roof leaked water, dripping onto the floor, mingling with the standing water, a jumble of things floated on the surface, occasionally with swarms of rats swimming by.

A few minutes ago, the rising seawater backflowed into the pipes; the mouth of the pipe burst open, foul wastewater flooded indoors, everywhere. The pipe’s mouth gaped, from within came the howling sound of the sea wind, the gurgling roar of waves constant, like a giant serpent colliding back and forth, seeking an exit.

Another stormy day.

Hert remembered that the last time he set sail, it was also a stormy day, that storm deep etched into his soul like a brand, Hert had countless times returned to that day in dreams, smelling the damp sea wind and the burnt stench of his soul.

Ah... that journey at sea.

After that voyage, everything changed, Nolen became a Navigator, while he was exiled into the shadows, to keep his wife and daughter alive, Hert shouldered debts, spending his days with these filthy things.

How did everything turn out this way?

Hert tried to think, but a sharp pain seared through his mind, endless whispers resounded, countless rats emerged from the stagnant water, crawling over Hert’s body, he almost couldn’t hold up under their weight, nearly kneeling.

Lightning flickered outside the window, the thunderous peal awakened Hert, he stood dazed before the washbasin, the rat swarm dispersed into smoke.

What was his debt again?

Hert could hardly remember; ever since that voyage, his Illusion Syndrome had worsened, now even his memory began to decline noticeably.

He propped his hands on the washbasin, a hoarse laugh echoed from his throat, looking at himself in the mirror, Hert thought of his deceased father.

In the end, his father was no different from a corpse, atrophied muscles rendered him speechless, trapped in endless mad hallucinations.

Even if Condensers could Etherealize the body, the inherent flaws were still unavoidable, unable to be removed. His father often lost control, wantonly spilling out Secret Energy, causing the crumbling, damaged house to collapse.

Actually... Hert knew.

Hert knew his father wasn’t insane, the shriveled corpse hadn’t lost its mind; it was deliberate, deliberate in destruction, deliberate in causing annoyance and hatred.

His father made a dark wish.

Hert had always been a bright child, he understood his father’s intentions, and he fulfilled his father’s wish, stabbing a Dagger through his heart, freeing him from that wretched shell.

Looking back now, it seemed it was also a stormy day.

Back then, he was far less skilled than he is now; the Dagger didn’t succeed in killing his father, in agony, he opened his eyes.

Hert was terrified, yet in his father’s gaze, there was no panic, no anger.

His father merely looked at him gently, silently watching until all the blood drained away.

Nolen understood him, everyone understood him, believed he committed the grave sin of patricide to relieve his father, but only Hert knew, it was an act of revenge.

He wished to scream at his dying father, his mad folly led to his mother’s death under a Secret Energy-induced collapse, but in the end, he couldn’t utter a word, as if unwilling to torment that weary soul any further.

Just watched.

A sharp pain came across his cheek, Hert touched it; the razor accidentally nicked his skin, his hand stained with red.

Hert wiped away the mist on the mirror, focused himself, carefully shaving off the cheek stubble, cutting out the tangled hair, combing it into a neat short style, and changing into a new set of clean clothes.

At first glance, Hert seemed to revert to his former self.

"Am I cattle, or a man?"

Hert muttered, staring at his reflection.

Fortunately, none of this mattered anymore; he no longer needed to toil for the Devil, nor offer his precious soul. If he completed this task, he would cure Emily’s illness, excising Illusion Syndrome from the Motleys’ bloodline.

Welcoming a beautiful life.

Grasping a long knife nearby, Hert had barely walked a few steps before a piercing buzz sounded, like innumerable bees swirling around him.

As the auditory hallucinations faded, Hert vaguely realized he had forgotten something, bewildered for a while, and suddenly it came to him.

Picking up the desk telephone, Hert skillfully dialed, pressing the digits engraved in his heart, after a brief busy tone, a clear voice rang.

"Hello?"

"It’s me, Emily."

Hert smiled sincerely. At the moment he heard the voice, he felt everything he’d done was worth it.

"How’s mom? Everything alright?"

"I’m okay, things are going well over here too."

"Oh, right, after today’s matter is over, I’ll be able to come back. At most five days, no, at most three days you’ll be able to see me."

"Hmm, I’ll be waiting for you at home."

Hert hung up the phone, immersing himself in sweet dreams. At the moment he opened the door, he felt a sense of forgetting something.

It’s like I forgot something...

Never mind.

Hert stopped thinking about it, clenched his long knife, and stepped into the storm.

From the mouth of the pipe came a rumbling sound, the rising tide overflowed, and the water level indoors gradually rose, while the rats in the waste rolled around incessantly.

A rat stepped on the body of a companion and jumped onto the table, followed by more rats climbing up the table, rubbing against each other, the desk phone was knocked over entirely, falling into the water along with the already broken phone line.

The phone line had been broken for a long, long time.

Just like Hert’s rationality.

...

"What’s our identity now? A bunch of lunatics from the Order of Truth, preparing to discuss illegal smuggling for the next year with the United Company?"

Palmer was holding a black umbrella, even though the wind and rain were so fierce, they couldn’t cover his foul mouth.

Duwa emphasized, "First of all, our Order of Truth is not a bunch of lunatics, but great Seekers of knowledge, we can be considered as King Solomon’s only..."

Duwa, like an old noble, opened his mouth to introduce his noble lineage that had been extended for who knows how many generations.

"Secondly..."

"Secondly, shut up, keep quiet."

Geoffrey interrupted the bickering between the two, and shortly after setting off, Geoffrey was already starting to feel concerned about the upcoming actions.

To maintain balanced abilities, the action group was split into its current form. Without Lebius, it was like having lost some security assurance, and Geoffrey felt a vague sense of unease in his heart.

Palmer was almost like Geoffrey, but he didn’t feel uneasy. With no one to banter with him, he felt a bit lonely and bored now.

After losing Bologue, the first thing Palmer did was start tormenting Duwa. After a journey of nagging, Palmer discovered that Duwa had a bit of humor in him, which could serve as a temporary amusement.

Geoffrey stopped his steps, and the two behind him also stopped. The crowded people gathered ahead, everyone holding umbrellas, the colorful umbrellas piecing together like a floral skirt covering the port.

The guards stood far off to one side, and the crowd orderly climbed along the boarding ladder, reaching inside the Paradise one by one.

Palmer raised his head and sighed, "It’s really big..."

The Paradise stood towering on the sea surface, looking from afar like a large billboard with the words United Company on it, with nothing noteworthy, but when you stood before it, you could truly appreciate the magnificence of this giant ship.

The cruise ship was like a giant beast emerging from the deep sea. Looking to the sides, the rain and mist obscured the ship’s body, as if the large vessel was endless. Lights illuminated above, providing illumination under this cloudy weather, the light distorted by the water vapor into large blotches, like the glowing eyes of a sea monster.

Palmer stared at Duwa, "So, Seekers of the Order of Truth, this is our identity card for now?"

Duwa was bewildered, "What is an identity card?"

"Board game, role-playing," Palmer explained, "Haven’t you played this stuff?"

"No."

"Then you’re a bit ignorant."

Duwa, for a moment, didn’t know what to say. Palmer’s existence really shattered his previous fantasies of the Order Bureau as grim and ruthless. It seemed the Order Bureau wasn’t entirely cold-faced executioners.

"The identity card is the role we play in this game," Palmer mumbled, "We’re no longer ourselves, but the identity we’re pretending to be, our actions must align with that identity... in other words, become another person."

Duwa hadn’t played board games, so naturally he didn’t understand Palmer’s words. He just assumed the guy was having a fit and ignored him.

"You go ahead."

Geoffrey said to Duwa, moving aside, "Don’t be clever."

Until this moment, Geoffrey still didn’t quite trust Duwa, but there really was no other way at the moment, they needed this Alchemist to pave the way.

Duwa wore a look of determination, sure of his significant role, "Remember what you promised."

There were many participants at the Paradise’s banquet. As long as the conditions were met, the United Company welcomed the arrival of guests. Ordinary people conducted ordinary business, while Condensers did Condenser business.

Duwa stepped forward quickly, sometimes people who mastered Alchemy’s knowledge received respect, even if Duwa came from the Order of Truth. Seeing his enthusiastic look, Palmer almost thought Duwa was a spy planted by the Order Bureau.

"This guy really is crazy."

Palmer muttered to himself, Duwa’s fervent heart for participating in the research of primordial objects was apparent.