Chapter 1

The contents of the paper were disjointed, as if concealing some ambiguous metaphors. A close reading, however, only evoked a sense of the bizarre. Even a scholar as learned as Morris examined the words repeatedly, yet failed to discern a single clue.

What were the Forsaken Kings? What was the abandoned clan? What was the person in the ashes, and what was the "Sanctuary" repeatedly mentioned in those passages?

Duncan frowned, his gaze sweeping across the ink stains that had blurred slightly from being soaked in water. Certain words recorded on it stirred faint associations in his mind, yet he struggled to piece together a coherent train of thought. He had a vague feeling... this wasn't merely nonsensical ramblings. The passages, reminiscent of religious records, seemed to describe something related to the current "Deep Sea Era."

Or perhaps, something from before the Deep Sea Era.

"Is this Crow's handwriting?" Vanna suddenly looked up at Nimo, who stood nearby.

"It's his handwriting," Nimo squatted down to examine it, nodding with certainty. "He always elongated the last stroke at the end of a sentence. No one else does that."

"What does he believe in?" Vanna asked again. "Beyond the Orthodox Church's faith, has he been in contact with any other spiritual guidance? Not necessarily heretical beliefs – gray organizations like secret societies and academic hermetic orders count too."

"He's a devout believer in the God of Death, always has been since he was little. Aside from Bartok's church, I've never seen him go anywhere else," Nimo said, pondering. "As for societies and academic hermetic orders... that's even more impossible. His brain couldn't possibly participate in something like that! A guy who needed three years of remedial classes to graduate from Lower District public high school? Even if he wanted to join those hermetic orders, they wouldn't take him!"

"...A devout believer in the Orthodox Church, never exposed to any spiritual guidance other than the Orthodox faith... this is interesting," Vanna said, looking at the paper in Morris's hand, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "The writing style clearly bears the mark of the classical city-state era or the earlier Dark Ages, and it's typical 'sacred script.' Someone who barely scraped through public high school couldn't conjure up something like this out of thin air – and 'Crow' kept it close to his body, which shows that he cared deeply about what's on this paper."

Duncan had been silent, lost in thought. He suddenly realized, "So, it's possible he copied this from somewhere."

"Copied it?" Nimo was taken aback, then he understood. "You mean, Crow might have stumbled into a place, and the things on this paper... are 'clues' he copied down there?"

"Perhaps he didn't even know the meaning of what he was copying, but it was the most suspicious, most noteworthy information he saw there," Duncan slowly nodded. "And unfortunately, he may have drawn a fatal disaster upon himself while copying these things."

"Stumbled into a place..." Vanna slowly stood up, arms crossed, thinking aloud. "Then that place must have been completely unfamiliar to 'Crow,' and the environment was probably quite strange, so much so that he couldn't immediately determine where he was, and could only hastily record what he saw before him as clues. Furthermore, he was probably discovered and killed soon after copying, so he didn't have time to explore the surroundings – otherwise, he would have had the opportunity to record more characteristic information to describe the environment he saw."

As she spoke, she glanced down at the drowned corpse, her brow furrowing slightly.

"Where did he go? And how was he sent back? A wet corpse, there must have been traces left when it was moved..."

Nimo looked up, surveying the surroundings.

In the dry sewer corridor, there were no signs of dragging a body.

"Perhaps we should search deeper along Crow's usual patrol route. He might have left traces before stumbling into that place," Morris said, looking up at the depths of the corridor ahead. "Does he usually go in this direction?"

"Yes," Nimo nodded. "This corridor leads to the Upper District, but there's a section where the lighting is unstable, occasionally shrouded in darkness. While short periods of darkness aren't a big problem, some... unpleasant things can still appear, so it needs to be patrolled regularly to detect those newly spawned shadows."

"Then let's go take a look. The sooner we go, the better chance we have of finding clues," Duncan nodded. "If something really did run out of there, we can take care of it too."

No one objected.

The group temporarily bid farewell to Crow's body, preparing to explore deeper into the sewer corridor. Before stepping over the young man's body, both Nimo and Old Ghost lowered their heads in unison.

"Wait for us here. We'll come back for you," Nimo said.

Old Ghost bent down and pulled out a triangular amulet from somewhere, placing it on Crow's chest. "Don't wander off, kid."

Duncan watched silently, waiting for Nimo and Old Ghost to finish their farewells before turning and leading the group forward.

"We'll tell Captain Tirian what happened here when we get back," Vanna said suddenly on the way. "That young man won't die in vain."

"Thank you," Nimo said softly, his mood clearly low, a sense of gloom and loss lingering. "That kid... didn't really accomplish anything great in his life, but he'll be remembered by Captain Tirian and Captain Duncan, which is probably a kind of honor."

"Does he have any family?" Morris also broke the silence, asking softly.

"Family? They're long gone. He grew up in an orphanage, and when he was a teenager, he left the orphanage and became my apprentice," Nimo shook his head. "The orphanage director said the kid was picked up from the street, in a trash can at the street corner. When they first brought him back, he was only as long as a crow from head to toe..."

"An abandoned baby," Old Ghost muttered, his voice seemingly tinged with anger. "When the Queen was still here, she wouldn't have allowed such a thing to happen – abandoning a baby was punishable by imprisonment! But now people are so depraved that they can throw a child into a trash can... That kid was lucky to be alive. He was so frail when he first came to us from the orphanage, like a monkey in his teens. I used to worry every day that he'd catch a cold and die in the winter, but he survived... he survived..."

The old man suddenly stopped, as if he was stuck, then shook his head dejectedly. "In the end, he didn't survive."

The atmosphere in the group was particularly somber. Even Alice, who was usually oblivious, sensed the oppressive mood. She looked around in confusion, finally hesitatingly approaching Old Ghost, seemingly wanting to comfort him. "You... don't be sad."

Old Ghost looked up, staring blankly at Alice, who was wearing a wig and veil, then sniffed hard. "Queen, you have to take care of this..."

Alice looked at the old man in confusion.

But soon, her awkwardness was broken – the group suddenly stopped.

The corridor ahead was shrouded in dim light. Two seemingly malfunctioning gas lamps were embedded in the wall, their faint light barely able to dispel the darkness in the depths. Vanna looked up, staring at the ground at the border between light and darkness, her expression gradually becoming serious.

"There's... a person lying there."

She said in a low voice.

A slightly thin figure lay beside the drainage ditch at the edge of the corridor, motionless. The gas lamps, dimmed and weakened by poor airflow, cast a faint glow on the familiar thick blue coat.

The group arrived at the fallen body, and upon seeing the other person's face, Duncan felt no surprise – it was Crow.

However, unlike Duncan and the others, who had already expected it, Nimo and Old Ghost were filled with shock, even a hint of terror, the moment they saw that face.

"Crow?!" Nimo's voice trembled slightly. He stared dumbfounded at the person lying on the ground, instinctively taking half a step back. "This... how could..."

"It's a fake," Duncan calmly interrupted Nimo's exclamation. At first glance, he confirmed that the body before him was a fake formed from "Source-stuff" – because around this "corpse," a small amount of black, viscous substance had already begun to appear, indicating that its disintegration process had already begun.

There seemed to be differences between fakes. Although they were all formed from "Source-stuff," some fakes could remain active in the city for ten days or half a month, while others disintegrated on the way to the cemetery. But this "fake"... its disintegration speed seemed to be faster.

From the time Crow disappeared until now, only a few hours had passed at most.

Duncan thought quickly in his mind –

If Crow had really stumbled into a dangerous and strange place – such as a cultist's nest – and copied down that suspicious "sacred script account" there, then the replication targeting him... must have also started there.

And now, his replica was lying in this area, in a place he often patrolled.

They were on the right track.

Perhaps, the source of the replica was nearby!