Chapter 1 Agatha

Agatha walked along the desolate streets. The familiar city-state scenery seemed to be filled with a silent, eerie atmosphere. Between the shadows of the surrounding buildings, behind the closed doors and windows, it felt like pairs of prying eyes were hidden everywhere.

She was looking for the exit of this "Otherworld," or the culprit that had trapped her here.

Every seemingly incongruous place could be a rift intertwined with the real world, but so far, she had not found such a rift in this eerie "Frost City-State."

The only thing she was certain of was that she had touched the shadows that always enveloped the city-state – whether by accident or by the deliberate actions of the mastermind, she had successfully crossed the "barrier" that had been obscuring her vision.

This place, so similar yet so different from Frost, must be the source of the frequent strange occurrences in the city-state during this period.

The sound of wheels rolling over cobblestones came from afar, and the faint sound of bicycle bells and doors opening and closing drifted into her ears.

Agatha looked up in the direction of the sound, but could only see empty streets—but further away, she could indeed see shadows like carriages flashing past the intersections, and figures like pedestrians hurriedly walking through those intersections.

There were "people" in this city, but most of the time, one could only see distant phantoms. One could hear the voices of residents here, but often could not pinpoint the source of the sound.

It was like a bizarre, chaotic, and distorted dream.

Agatha's figure passed through another intersection, then stopped in the shadows of a building.

Blind exploration was just a waste of energy and time. She needed to carefully assess the surrounding situation.

She closed her eyes, letting her senses spread around her, carefully distinguishing the various information in the environment—sounds, smells, the flow of the wind, and... the warmth of living beings.

After a moment, Agatha looked up in a certain direction and took a step towards it—she still had her eyes closed, yet she accurately avoided all the obstacles on the road as if she could see everything around her. She walked through alleys, passing intersections and paths. After walking for an unknown amount of time, she stopped in front of a building located on a street corner.

Agatha opened her eyes and saw a small restaurant in front of her. The restaurant was brightly lit, and the sounds of lively voices came from inside.

The sounds were very real, and there was an aura of living beings emanating from within.

Agatha steadied herself and pushed open the door of the restaurant.

A crisp bell rang, the door opened, and the scene inside the restaurant rushed towards her, reflected in Agatha's eyes—for a moment, she was a little dazed, even suspecting that she had left the strange "Otherworld" and returned to the normal real world.

The restaurant was brightly lit, with customers dining everywhere and service staff busily shuttling between tables and the counter. The clerk in charge of reception was busy behind the counter, and the crisp sound of knives, forks, cups, and plates colliding could be heard, as well as the voices of people talking about the weather, work, and prices. The dead and cold atmosphere that had accumulated on the streets outside seemed to be swept away by this lively "worldly scenery."

However, the next second, Agatha discovered the obvious incongruity here—although the diners were sitting at the tables eating, the cups and plates in front of them were empty. Although the clerk was busy behind the counter, he was just walking back and forth in place, repeatedly wiping the same cup in his hand.

Everyone was like a puppet with a pre-set program, just repeating the normal life movements they should have, but... their imitation was so lifelike.

Agatha frowned. After realizing the truth, the atmosphere here seemed even more bizarre than the empty streets outside, but she did not turn around and leave, but instead took a step into the store.

The more bizarre the place, the more it showed that she was on the right track.

With Agatha's first step, the lively conversations in the restaurant suddenly stopped.

All the diners who were talking closed their mouths at the same time, but the various expressions they had while chatting still remained on their faces, and they still maintained the gestures of eating—in the huge space, after the voices disappeared, only the monotonous sound of cups, plates, knives, and forks colliding remained.

Agatha took a second step, and the sound of all the cups, plates, knives, and forks colliding also disappeared—everyone in the restaurant stopped moving, as if the power had been suddenly cut off, and they stood still next to the square tables.

Agatha took a third step forward, and everyone in the restaurant put down their knives and forks. They stood up like zombies and turned their heads expressionlessly, dozens of gazes falling on her blankly.

Agatha looked at the counter in front of her. The clerk who had been wiping the same cup finally stopped, but unlike the "diners" around him who were as blank and stiff as zombies, the clerk slowly raised his head. When he looked at Agatha, he had a faint smile on his face.

The smile was even somewhat friendly.

"Hello, Miss Gatekeeper," the clerk said. He was a young man with short blond hair and a fairly handsome appearance, wearing a clean white shirt and a black jacket. He spoke politely, as if he was really greeting a customer who had come to the door. "I'm very glad you could come here as a guest. I wonder what you think of this breathtaking city?"

"It seems that you are the culprit behind all of this," Agatha said calmly, staring at the blond "clerk" in front of her. "Finding you was a little easier than I thought."

"Or maybe not as easy as you thought," the blond young man laughed. "Would you like something to drink? Poisoned dirty water? Or bread made of mud? Or... an empty bowl? We have plenty here."

Agatha had no intention of answering at all, she just casually raised her cane and waved it in the air.

The blond young man behind the counter was instantly wrapped in layers of pale flames that appeared out of nowhere. The skin was burned to ashes by the Gatekeeper's "cremation" ability in almost a few breaths, leaving only grayish-white ashes scattered in the wind, falling on the counter.

However, the expression on Agatha's face did not change at all, because before the flames ignited, she sensed that there was no longer the aura of a living person in the young man's body.

A strange sound of viscous matter squirming came from the side. Agatha turned her head and saw a stiffly standing "diner" next to a table not far away suddenly trembling. The next second, the man's body melted like wax, and black mud-like matter surged and deformed on his body. Within a few breaths, the diner transformed into a blond young man wearing a white shirt and a black jacket.

"That's not a friendly way to say hello," the blond young man flicked the dust off his clothes and looked at Agatha with some helplessness. "Miss Gatekeeper, you don't think this will solve me, do you—you think I would rashly expose my main body in such a dangerous place?"

"I know you're not here," Agatha said expressionlessly. "But at least this can make you stop being noisy for a while."

"Okay, okay, it seems you're not in the mood for chatting—you're a boring woman. In comparison, that Professor Meyerson was much more interesting in the end," the blond young man shrugged. "But it doesn't matter, as long as I can keep you here obediently for a while, I don't mind you being a boring prisoner."

The moment she heard the words "Professor Meyerson," Agatha's expression changed slightly. She thought of the vanished Dagger Island and the series of explosions that occurred on the island a moment before it disappeared—and then she noticed the information revealed in the other party's last few words.

"What do you mean by your last few words?" she said, staring at the blond young man in front of her in an icy tone.

"It's nothing, just asking you to be a temporary guest here," the blond young man smiled happily. "You don't have to worry about the 'above' situation. Soon, another you will return there. She will gather the guardians as well as you would, and then compile a report based on the actual situation of the sewage treatment center. Don't worry, she will report it truthfully, including the pollution suffered by the treatment center and the replacement of personnel. Then, she will return to the Cathedral to report her duties as you usually do, talk to that Bishop Ivan, and then she will inspect the city-state and continue to deal with the various problems facing the city, and continue to carry out the investigation work that you failed to complete... everything will not be delayed."

Agatha's face finally turned completely cold. She stared at the blond young man in front of her intently: "You even created a 'fake' Gatekeeper?!"

"Is it difficult?" The blond young man slowly put away the smile on his face and looked at Agatha with a hint of sarcasm. "Of course, she doesn't have your strength, but other than that, she is flawless, even more perfect than any previous replica—do you know how perfect? She... doesn't even know she's fake."

Agatha's face was frosty, and the knuckles of her hand holding the cane were slightly pale: "Fakes can't be hidden from the Cathedral—there are countless sharp eyes there."

"Countless sharp eyes—the eyes of mortals. You overestimate your colleagues too much," the blond young man calmly met Agatha's icy gaze and said unhurriedly, "And speaking of fakes, do you really think that there is any difference between you and the others, and the 'fakes' you mentioned?"

He laughed again, slowly raising his hands, as if a preaching saint was revealing the truth of the world: "Miss Gatekeeper, there has never been any fake from the beginning, or rather... we are all fakes, that's the truth."