Chapter 158 The Mirror's Reflection

In Duncan's perception, two marks in an abnormal state had drawn his attention.

One of these marks was naturally from the *White Oak*.

The ship that he had once completely incinerated with flames was still emitting a strong "presence," wandering through his senses like a blazing fire, but he still couldn't pinpoint the ship's true location. Whenever he tried to determine the *White Oak*'s position, he only received a strange and vague result, showing that the *White Oak* was in an area next to Frostsea City, which had already been jointly blockaded by the Sea Fog Fleet and the Frostsea Navy.

The other "problematic" mark was on the Gatekeeper, Agatha.

Over the past period, Duncan had suddenly noticed that the mark he had previously left on Agatha had been subjected to some kind of interference. In this interference, Agatha's aura had weakened several times, and her position had also begun to show the same vague, distorted signs as the *White Oak*. He tried to remotely confirm Agatha's condition, but was surprised to find that her aura would occasionally disappear completely within the city.

Two problematic marks, a ship, a person, different locations, similar states.

This was obviously worth paying attention to.

So he chose to personally investigate this matter after nightfall. He currently had no clues regarding the *White Oak*, but Agatha's mark was still moving within Frostsea City from time to time, and it should be nearby.

Duncan lowered his head, looking at Shirley, who was peering around beside him.

Ah-Dog's perception ability as a Nether Demon might come in handy – and if there were any Annihilation cultists active in this vicinity, it could probably sniff out the scent of its "kind."

Night deepened, and the gas lamps on both sides of the road had all been lit. Occasionally, the whistles of night watchmen or the barking of dogs could be heard from afar, interspersed with the sound of the distant sea waves.

The streets during curfew were empty and deserted. Even the lights spilling out from the buildings along the roadside could hardly dispel the chill of this winter night. Duncan led Shirley through another alley, and in his "vision," the cluster of flames representing Agatha was still stopping and starting not far away.

"Mr. Duncan, what do you think will happen if that Gatekeeper sees me... will she slash me with her sword?" Shirley asked, trying to strike up a conversation. "Like Vanna seeing a heretic..."

"Gatekeepers don't use swords," Duncan said casually. "I heard Vanna say that they use specially made combat staffs and the divine arts of the Death Domain to deal with heretics."

Shirley immediately shrank her neck and stopped talking.

Duncan didn't pay attention to the girl's reaction. After entering an alley, he suddenly stopped.

Shirley also stopped nervously, looking around with vigilance. "Did you find something? Is the Gatekeeper ahead?"

"...She's not ahead, she's here," Duncan said calmly, his gaze slowly sweeping across the entire alley. "And she's been here for a while."

"She's here?!" Shirley's eyes widened instantly, as if she felt another gust of cold wind blowing across her neck. She looked forward intently, feeling increasingly apprehensive. "Where, where... I can't see her. Ah-Dog, can you see her?"

"Can't see her," Ah-Dog's voice came from the nearby shadows, sounding muffled. "Can't see anyone and can't feel any aura."

"Even Ah-Dog can't see her?" Duncan frowned slightly. In his eyes, the small cluster of flames representing Agatha was quietly burning a few meters away, appearing weak and illusory.

The Gatekeeper was here – she was resting here.

Duncan slowly walked towards the place where the flame was, but then stopped.

"Agatha" seemed to sense something. The cluster of flames jumped suddenly when he was halfway there, and then quickly moved in another direction.

Duncan raised his head, looking in the direction the flame was moving in his perception. Suddenly, a fleeting shadow on the glass window of a nearby building caught his eye.

He saw a blurred figure running quickly across the surface of the glass. The outline vaguely resembled Agatha.

Shirley, who happened to be looking up and around, also noticed the shadow. She was almost scared into screaming, but reacted in time and covered her mouth. After the shadow flashed past, she looked at Duncan, and opened her mouth with lingering fear, "There was a shadow just now!"

"I saw it, it was a reflection from the window," Duncan said in a deep voice, his gaze still calmly looking forward. Where Shirley couldn't see, he was still staring at the cluster of flames—the flame had crossed the alley, flashed again at the intersection ahead, and then turned back towards another direction.

He narrowed his eyes slightly, as if outlining Agatha's state in his mind.

She seemed to be breaking out of some kind of predicament. She might be injured, or she might be very tired. She had rested briefly here, and then headed towards the upper city—at the intersection, something had blocked her for a moment, but failed to stop her.

Duncan opened his eyes, his gaze falling again on the glass window not far away. The smooth window glass no longer reflected Agatha's figure, only quietly reflecting the faint image of the street lamp not far away.

"Reflection..." Duncan said softly, "Interesting..."

"Ah?" Shirley still looked confused. "What? Have you figured it out?"

"Perhaps." Duncan said noncommittally, then stepped to the glass window, raised his hand, and snapped his fingers gently.

A small cluster of flames danced at his fingertips, illuminating his figure.

He looked at the glass window and saw the flames in his hand reflected on the window, the dancing light quietly burning in the mirrored world as if it had a life of its own.

Shirley watched Duncan's movements in confusion, and then saw him wave his hand gently, casually dispersing the flames at his fingertips.

But a faint glimmer of green light was still dancing in her vision.

Shirley slowly opened her mouth, staring in astonishment at the scene before her: after Duncan dispersed the flames in his hand, the flames reflected in the glass window showed no sign of disappearing—the reflected flames were still burning quietly, as if they had their own independent existence, burning in the mirror!

"This... what's going on?!" Shirley pointed at the flames in the glass window, looking at Duncan stammeringly. "Why is the flame still there..."

"A mirrored Frostsea," Duncan slowly turned his head, his tone seemingly carrying a smile, "is gradually merging with Frostsea in the real world—a wonderful idea, I personally think it's full of creativity."

"Mirror..." Shirley didn't really understand, but still subconsciously repeated the word, "You mean, there's a Frostsea in the mirror too? Did that 'Gatekeeper' run into the mirror world?"

"Not accurate, but you can understand it that way," Duncan said calmly, turning his gaze back to the flame reflection still burning quietly in the mirror, "There's a small crack here, but it's not enough."

"Not enough?" Shirley blinked her eyes.

"I need a more accurate location, a stronger connection," Duncan slowly reached out his hand, his fingertips touching the illusory flame in the mirror, "To ignite the world on the other side of the mirror, this little fire isn't enough. But..."

He paused, withdrawing his finger.

The illusory flame in the mirror suddenly shook, then disappeared into the depths of darkness, leaving only a faint, vaguely visible trail of ghostly green, as if spreading into the distance.

"It's already enough to help Agatha a little."

...

How many counterfeit items formed by "Source" had she already eliminated? And how many "incarnations" of that blond young man had she destroyed?

After exceeding four digits, Agatha had already become too lazy to count.

She only knew one thing: that heretic hadn't lied to her—she was indeed trapped in this bizarre world, and there was no hope of escaping it in the short term.

The sky was dim, the clouds chaotic. In this "Frostsea City" without sunlight, the boundary between day and night had disappeared. One could only judge that it should already be nightfall through the subtle changes in the light between the clouds and the gas lamps lit in the streets.

Agatha was walking through a narrow alley, while calming her breath and repairing the injuries to her body and spirit.

Her black coat had been damaged in many places due to the continuous battles, and the combat soft armor lining it was also badly damaged. Her shoulders, sides, and other places even showed the bandages and skin wrapped underneath, with traces of blood seeping out from within.

Objectively speaking, the enemies were not strong. Even the "incarnations" used by that blond heretic were not very strong in the eyes of Agatha, the Gatekeeper. Solving them took only two or three minutes.

But they were endless.

This entire city was their "material" and "reserve force" for regeneration. Ordinary combat methods were meaningless here.

Agatha walked through the alley, quickly calculating in her mind.

At the same time, she also recalled the strange and terrifying feeling from a few minutes ago.

At that time, she was resting briefly in a dark alley, and that terrifying aura suddenly appeared in her perception. That kind of pressure… even made her feel like her heart had stopped beating for a few seconds.

She had hastily left her hiding place at the time without thinking too much, but now that she thought about it again... that terrifying aura didn't seem like something from this bizarre counterfeit city.

Then… what was it?