Chapter 399
A figure clad in a pitch-black dress stood motionless before a brand-new gravestone, still unmarked, holding a black umbrella. Her vacant eyes stared at the grave before her.
“Miss Aivina, please accept my condolences...” Nia glanced down at the black umbrella beside her. Though she couldn’t see Aivina’s expression, each raindrop hitting the umbrella sounded like a heart shattering.
“I’ve done everything I could to secure this spot for you. You know, Miss Aivina, outsiders cannot be buried here.” Behind Nia, a figure clad in a black iron mask, revealing only the chin, spoke slowly.
“You could have kept quiet, Seraphine,” Lucy said, adjusting her hat with an impassive expression.
“Ha... you’re a bit too aggressive, Director Lucy,” Seraphine chuckled awkwardly, clearly wary of the newly appointed executive director of the Dutton Group.
Among them all, the calmest seemed to be a green-haired little girl dressed in a maid outfit.
The Mother Goddess, an omniscient and omnipotent being, how could she possibly be dead?
It must all be part of the Mother Goddess’s plan or a little wicked whim.
Everyone who came to mourn Charles was present, except for Amy, who was still unaware of the news, even Isabella, whom Aivina had only met once—she stood at the back, head bowed in silence.
A gust of wind blew, knocking the black umbrella from Aivina’s hand, and rainwater splashed onto her face, trickling down her cheeks.
Aivina turned to look in Tara’s direction, and only after confirming Tara’s indifferent expression did her heartache ease slightly.
Charles... said to trust her...
But Adele is truly dead...
Aivina took a deep breath, not bothering to retrieve the fallen umbrella, and turned to say, “Let’s go.”
“Miss Aivina, have you thought about returning?” Seraphine asked, seemingly unfazed by the somber atmosphere, speaking directly behind Aivina.
“I’ll give you an answer in three days.” Aivina didn’t look back.
If Charles hadn’t shown up in three days, she would return to the Russell family, even if it meant burning herself to expose that poisoner.
As everyone turned to follow Aivina away, Isabella silently mourned, letting out a soft sigh as she tossed the white rose she held beside the gravestone, bowing her head slightly.
The mysterious powerhouse she had wanted to connect with had inexplicably died... This left Isabella feeling quite frustrated, as it seemed that anyone she got close to among the extraordinary would end up with misfortune.
When would she ever step onto the path of the extraordinary...?
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**PS:**
223 (overdue) - 1 (extra) = 222 (overdue)
Half-mixed is not mixed!
Tomorrow, I promise there will be more!
Hang in there! Tomorrow’s me!
Good night!!!
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**Chapter 215: Do You Want to Play Hide and Seek?** (7200 words)
Ansu City, Russell Family Cemetery.
The cemetery was eerily quiet at night, with only the sound of a gravekeeper patrolling with a dim oil lamp, and the faint rustling of mice and insects.
“Cough...”
“Cough cough...”
In the corner, beneath an unmarked grave, a figure curled up inside a coffin, unable to stop coughing.
Beside her lay two empty potion vials, the pain from the potion gnawing at her flesh left her pale, while the dizziness from lack of oxygen made even struggling a challenge.
Even at just Tier 2, her hands had begun to mutate, thorny vines of bone piercing through her skin, wrapping around her arms in spirals.
In some places, the bony thorns were entwined with blood-red tendrils that resembled human muscle, writhing like bloodworms or tentacles.
Charles slowly extended her right hand, gently pressing it against the bottom of the coffin. The bony thorns coiling around her arms wriggled forward, piercing through the down padding and into the wooden planks, beginning to spread within.
Crack, crack, crack—
The sound of the wood splintering was muffled by the thick layer of soil above, failing to escape.
Soon, a small hole, just big enough for a fist, was twisted out of the wood beneath Charles.
A bloodworm, about the thickness of a finger, wriggled from the bony thorns, burrowing its mouth into the soil.
A pheromone, imperceptible to humans, spread through the soil’s crevices, reaching deep underground.
If Charles had been following the normal Tier 1 “Gardener” path to ascend to Tier 2 “Queen,” she could have used her enhanced “Gardener” abilities to activate the coffin lid, allowing it to take root and create a breathable space for her.
But now, Charles could only rely on her “Queen” abilities to escape.
So tired...
After completing all this, Charles felt as if she had lost all her strength, collapsing back into the coffin.
She lowered her breathing rate and metabolic speed, curling up like a true corpse within the coffin.
It seemed as if she had completely given up.
Ten minutes... twenty minutes...
The compacted, damp soil had little permeability, and the oxygen inside the coffin was gradually depleting, while the carbon dioxide levels were rising, as death quietly approached in the suffocating stillness.
Tap, tap.
At that moment, a faint, continuous sound emerged from below the hole.
A plump red earthworm wriggled its way out of the soil, slowly moving as if trying to burrow into the coffin.
But the next second, a black beetle, nearly the size of an adult’s thumb, burst through the soil, directly stepping on the red earthworm and quickly pushing the surrounding soil with its stout front limbs... though it seemed like a drop in the bucket.
Crack, crack...
Soon, more mice broke through the soil, beginning to gnaw at the nearby wooden planks.
These scavenging mice, hidden within the cemetery, displayed an almost incomprehensible level of cooperation, rapidly enlarging the hole until it was big enough for a person to enter.
A massive “burrow” was quickly excavated through the combined efforts of these large mice, and countless of them surged into the coffin, bringing with them a cold, decaying air.
They tried to gnaw at Charles’s clothes to drag her away, but no matter how hard they tried, they could only move her body a little.
The mice squeaked anxiously in the coffin, their limited intelligence unable to devise any solutions.
Yet their squeaking successfully roused Charles from her semi-dormant state.
She slowly cracked her eyes open, feeling the cool breeze brushing against her.
The ground had been breached.
Charles gradually rose, crawling down into the depths through the hole, while the mice brought nearly all the items meant for burial, swarming around her.
Only when she felt solid stone beneath her did she stand up in the dark, brushing off the dust from her clothes.
She merely bent down to reach for the oil lamp and matches, and the mice promptly brought the items to her.
Charles struck a match, igniting the oil lamp, and held it up to look ahead.
The familiar sewer was at least wider than the one in Berun City, appearing to be the main passageway merging with an underground river.
Ansu City was an old city, and the underground sewage was not clearly separated from the underground river, even mixing with industrial waste... the smell was indescribable.
But it felt bearable now.
Was it because of the rain?
Watching the rushing dark river, the bloodworms hanging from her arm wriggled again.
I need an unoccupied exit to the surface.
This was the message the bloodworms conveyed to Charles—not through words, but more like an infusion of will... as many weak mice perished on the spot upon sensing the pheromones, pushed into the dark river by their companions.
Charles’s situation was somewhat complex, but among the swarm of mice, there were “genius” individuals. A squeak rang out, and most of the mice reacted, rushing in a specific direction.
Holding the oil lamp, Charles walked along the maintenance path, and soon, she spotted a ladder that had been corroded beyond recognition—covered by a rotting wooden board that was constantly seeping water.
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