Chapter 403
Once someone’s path leads to Windsor Palace, the Temple of the God of Order, or any other royal palace, or if they simply lose track of their way, the crows will come to report directly.
In addition, there are plenty of mice lurking around all of Sha'er’s acquaintances. Whenever an unusual person approaches them, a mouse will come to report.
These two creatures are among the most inconspicuous watchers one can find in the city.
“Did you lose track right after leaving Stuart...?”
Sha'er slowly stood up, stretched, and yawned.
It seemed the backup plan wouldn’t be needed after all.
She turned and looked toward the living room.
At that moment, the living room was packed with dozens of figures in black robes. Sha'er walked up to one of them, and the figure slowly raised a hand to pull back its hood.
A mass of filthy, blood-stained rat heads formed its face, chattering and emitting a cacophony of unsettling whispers that sent shivers down one’s spine.
Its lower face was covered with drooping, dark red tendrils that resembled rat tails, writhing in excitement at the sight of Sha'er.
These were the satisfactory creations Sha'er had labored over all night—The Watchers.
They possessed human limbs and form, but their senses of smell and perception had been greatly enhanced, and their intelligence significantly boosted, making them perfect “investigators” capable of receiving any command from Sha'er.
Most importantly, they exuded the aura of ordinary humans, even possessing a complete human biological system—unless one were to directly remove their masks, even the most cautious of extraordinary beings would be unable to detect anything unusual about the Watchers at first glance.
They were a fusion of the “Coroner” and “Queen Bee” abilities, a perfect blend of “dead” and “living.”
“Such good boys...” Sha'er smiled as she reached out, her slender fingers gently brushing over the rat heads. Her eyes sparkled with appreciation, much like a sculptor admiring a masterpiece.
The black crow feathers on the back of the Watcher’s head unfurled, resembling a peacock’s display, expressing its excitement.
Each Watcher could serve as a perfect commander, capable of directing both the rat and crow swarms. With them, Sha'er could significantly expand her search radius.
“Just a moment.” Sha'er withdrew her hand, still smiling.
She walked into the washroom, as if preparing for surgery, meticulously washing her hands. Once she dried them with a clean white cloth, she headed upstairs.
Outside what used to be Tara’s room, Sha'er paused and gently knocked on the door.
“Sha'er.”
She announced her name at the door, leaning slightly forward. After listening for a moment and seemingly receiving a response, she slowly turned the doorknob and pushed the door open.
The curtains in the room were drawn tight, casting a cold, dim atmosphere—despite it being summer, the room felt as frigid as a tomb.
Sha'er approached the bed and looked at the silver-haired girl lying there, her cheeks gaunt, her complexion pale and bluish, eyes tightly shut.
The girl lay motionless, as if stricken by a grave illness.
Sha'er sat down beside the bed, took the girl’s cold, stiff right hand in her own, and gently said, “I’m sorry for making you wait so long…”
“Adele…”
Sha'er leaned slightly forward, eyes closed, nodding occasionally.
“I know you’re afraid of the dark. They were so rude to bury you in such a place.”
“...It was indeed my fault. I won’t let you take risks again.”
“I know you did your best.”
Sha'er’s dark purple pupils seemed to drift, giving her the appearance of a gentle, simple girl, but the unprocessed potion in her system hinted at a faint madness lurking beneath.
It was a subtle, calm, yet oppressive kind of cold madness.
“Alright.”
Sha'er smiled and nodded, reaching out to gently ruffle Adele’s silver hair, soothingly saying, “I’ll bring her to see you, so she can apologize to you in person…”
Rip—
Though Sha'er’s movements were as gentle as possible, the slight tug on the silver-haired girl’s scalp still produced a faint tearing sound—the already decaying scalp was easily torn apart.
Even the most skilled techniques couldn’t fully restore a body that had begun to rot.
A faint stench of decay wafted through the room, dispersing the fragrance of the incense. Sha'er’s previously upturned lips fell instantly.
The cold sensation jolted her mind, causing her somewhat unfocused pupils to refocus. In the battle between the potion’s whispers and her rational thought, the latter ultimately triumphed.
Sha'er released her grip on Adele’s corpse, stood up, closed the door behind her, and walked downstairs.
Standing on the staircase, she looked down at the throng of black-robed figures below and coldly commanded, “Find her.”
The black-robed “people” donned black beaked masks, extending their pale, bloodless hands to their chests, as if pledging allegiance to Sha'er.
In the next moment, they burst through the door and scattered, quickly disappearing into the streets.
The disguise of the Redemption Society was indeed effective; at least no police or other extraordinary beings would dare to disturb these “harmless” “plague doctors.”
After the Watchers left, Sha'er took a deep breath, raised her gaze toward the room, and then stepped forward, heading toward the door.
She needed to find Eleanor and enlist her help in the investigation.
However, Eleanor was currently only following Amy’s orders, so she first had to locate Amy.
...
In the West District, Maifeier District, at 174 St. Isaline Court, Amy’s residence.
At that moment, a girl with long black-blue hair stood outside the villa, forcing a smile as she conversed with the maid at the door.
After a while, the maid who had gone inside to announce her return, leading Sha'er into the villa.
Talking to the living was such a hassle.
Sha'er entered the parlor, and after a moment, she heard footsteps approaching.
“Hmm? Ivy...”
At the door, Amy instinctively called out upon seeing Sha'er’s back, but quickly noticed the shimmering blue hue at the lower half of Sha'er’s black hair.
Who is this?
When Sha'er turned to face her, Amy felt as if she had been electrocuted, hurriedly stepping inside and shutting the door behind her.
“Sha...Sha'er?” Amy rushed to sit beside Sha'er, her voice uncertain.
“Mm.” Sha'er nodded.
“What’s going on? Sha'er? What’s happened recently?”
Upon hearing Sha'er’s voice, Amy blinked, her eyes instantly welling with tears. She asked, “I’ve been looking for you and Adele for days, but I can’t find either of you. Ivy is also missing.”
“The landlord said...said Adele died. I went to your house, but your maid said you were dead too... I wanted to find Ivy, but she hasn’t been home...”
The more Amy spoke, the more distressed she felt. She wiped her tears with the back of her hand, her eyes red as she looked at Sha'er, seemingly waiting for an explanation.
These past few days, Amy felt as if she had been cast adrift, desperately seeking answers. She almost considered going to find Eleanor herself, hoping Eleanor could tell her what had happened.
But she knew that Sha'er had made her promise not to seek Eleanor during non-critical times. Yet if too much time passed without news from Sha'er, Amy wasn’t sure how long she could keep that promise.
“We’re fine, Amy. We’ve just been tracking down information on a high-level extraordinary being, and we’ve been targeted, so we had to fake our deaths to escape.” Sha'er explained, “I need your help, Amy.”
Hearing that both Sha'er and Adele were safe, Amy finally let out a sigh of relief and asked, “Okay... how can I help you?”
“Come with me to meet someone.”
...
In the West District, Westminster District, at the Cathedral of the Goddess of Salvation, in Archbishop Eleanor’s private prayer room.
Wearing a faceless mask, Eleanor looked at Sha'er before slowly speaking, “The Joyous Society? Are you sure?”
“Absolutely certain.” Sha'er nodded slightly.
Eleanor lowered her head, pondering for a long while. When she looked up at Sha'er again, she replied, “If it’s confirmed to be the Joyous Society, I will take action.”
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