Chapter 1 Nemo Wilkins suddenly felt a slight dizziness, as if an invisible force had brushed past his mind, or as if he had suddenly woken up from a bizarre and fragmented nap. With belated alarm, he suddenly raised his head, looking at the old gentleman who always wore a gentle expression and seemed refined and harmless, with a hint of nervousness and vigilance.

　　Maurice returned the "informant's" friendly and polite smile.

　　However, Nemo suddenly broke out in a cold sweat. Only now did he recall that from the moment he entered the secret passage, the old man's gaze had been fixed on him almost all the time. A force that seemed to scour his mind and traverse his memories had been constantly entangling his brain. He had been unconsciously answering every question from these uninvited guests, and had almost revealed the situation of other contact points in the city-state!

　　Even if these uninvited guests held Captain Tirian's token and knew the password, he shouldn't have been so careless! After all, these people had suddenly appeared today. According to the rules, he should have tested them more!

　　The rapid change in the "informant's" expression, of course, did not escape Vanna's eyes. The latter stepped forward, her expression solemn and sincere: "Mr. Wilkins, relax. We are not enemies. The token and password we carry are indeed from Mr. Tirian, but for necessary security considerations, we just performed some tests on you."

　　"Tests... what tests?" Nemo looked at the people in front of him with vigilance. "Who... who exactly are you?"

　　"Simply put, we suspect that a cognitive contamination phenomenon with a very wide range has begun to spread in the city-state. This contamination will unconsciously cause people to generate false memories, lose accurate perception of the real world, and even become accomplices of heretics without realizing it. We can't be sure whether all the informants Tirian left in the city are still reliable, so we can only conduct tests," Vanna explained with a serious expression, then changed the subject. "As for our origins... didn't you receive a message from Mr. Tirian?"

　　"The captain didn't explain in detail. He only said that they were a few trustworthy people," Nemo replied cautiously. "Forgive my doubts—he wouldn't make such inexplicable arrangements before."

　　Maurice thought for a moment, understood, and looked at Duncan: "Oh, that may be because he didn't get your explicit permission, so he didn't dare to reveal our identities casually, right?"

　　Permission? Captain Tirian didn't dare to reveal their identities casually?

　　Listening to Maurice's words, Nemo's expression instantly became a little strange. He subconsciously looked at the bandaged, black-clad oddity, obviously wanting to ask something but not knowing where to start.

　　Duncan didn't think much about it. He just nodded slightly: "Since it's confirmed that this informant has no problems, there's no need to hide it."

　　Saying that, he looked at Nemo, pointed at himself, and said: "I am Tirian's father."

　　The sea fog agent named Nemo Wilkins froze for a few seconds, then his mind seemed to scramble for an idea, and he suddenly widened his eyes: "Don't insult the captain!"

　　Duncan: The atmosphere was a bit awkward for a moment. Vanna and Maurice couldn't help but press their hands to their foreheads. Only Alice looked around, seemingly not understanding, and said to the informant with a serious face: "It's true."

　　Nemo obviously wanted to say something, but before he could open his mouth this time, Maurice suddenly stepped forward and patted him on the shoulder: "Young man, think carefully before you speak—even the great 'Iron Lieutenant,' Tirian, has a father."

　　At this time, Nemo Wilkins suddenly noticed the subtlety in the atmosphere and woke up from the conversation just now. Then, he recalled the ancient legends about the Abnomar family, about Captain Tirian's family, about the *Shilan Hao* (Lost Country), about the wandering soul in the subspace—when he looked up at Duncan again, his eyes were obviously different.

　　"I have returned from the subspace," Duncan looked at him, his voice calm. "To help Tirian deal with some troubles."

　　Nemo thought for a while, rolled his eyes, and fell backward.

　　However, Vanna seemed to have been prepared for this. Before the informant could fall down, she grabbed his arm with one hand, and then took out a whole bottle of *xingshen* (spirit-refreshing) essential oil with the other, popped the stopper, and poured it directly into Nemo's nostrils.

　　The informant basically shot straight up.

　　"Ah... ah... Achoo! Achoo!" Nemo was completely awake, his nostrils filled with the strong smell of ointment. He sneezed several times in place before barely stopping, and raised his head with a snotty and tearful face, opening his mouth nervously while sniffling, "I... I..."

　　"Sorry—I forgot that ordinary people's physique is worse than guardians," Vanna said with some embarrassment, hiding the glass bottle in her hand. "But don't worry, this stuff is harmless to the body."

　　Nemo took out a handkerchief from his pocket, wiped the tears and snot from his face while calming down, and looked at Duncan with fear and hesitation in his eyes: "Really... is it really you? Then... then what can I do for you..."

　　"You are already serving me," Duncan waved his hand. "Don't be so nervous. Just tell me more about the situation in Frost City."

　　"Okay... okay," Nemo nodded repeatedly, then sneezed a few more times before settling down. "Then what else do you want to ask?"

　　"Are you currently in contact with other informants in the city?" Duncan asked. "What methods do you usually use to contact each other? Do you gather in this sewer system, or use more discreet channels?"

　　"We rarely gather," Nemo said while rubbing his nose. "Mainly for security reasons—after all, many of our members have close ties with the upper city, and they need to be more discreet. In most cases, we exchange information through various secret channels, such as codes in newspapers, specific rendezvous points, or relying on some messengers for single-line contact.

　　"In fact, even we ourselves don't know how many 'insiders' there are in the city. Most informants only know their immediate superiors or subordinates, or a few 'compatriots' in the same area as themselves. The complete list is only held by Captain Tirian and Mr. Aiden. I am considered a 'contact person' in my layer, and I have a relatively large list of personnel in my hands, but it doesn't exceed ten people..."

　　Listening to Nemo's narration, Vanna couldn't help but nod slightly: "A very cautious and effective form of infiltration. Most cultists who deal with the guardians aren't this professional."

　　"After all, it's Tirian's operation for half a century," Duncan said casually from the side, then looked at Nemo again. "Is this contact point only permanently occupied by you?"

　　"There are two others," Nemo nodded. "One is nicknamed 'Raven'. He should be patrolling the nearby tunnels at this time. There's also an old man. He spends most of his time in the abandoned pipe shed—even I don't know his real name. We all call him 'Old Ghost.'"

　　Duncan exchanged glances with Vanna and Maurice.

　　Nemo Wilkins didn't seem to be affected by cognitive interference, but the others he contacted might not be so sure.

　　"Let's go say hello too," Duncan nodded and said. "Where is the pipe shed?"

　　"It's over here," Nemo said, pointing to the right side of the fork ahead. "It used to be a temporary rest area for the maintenance personnel of the second waterway. I'll take you there."

　　The informant stepped forward, and on the way, he began to introduce the situation of the "Old Ghost" to Duncan and the others.

　　"... He's over seventy years old this year, almost the oldest of us. My grandfather used to work with him, back in the Queen's era..."

　　"Old Ghost's mind isn't very clear, but as long as it involves the gas pipelines and the connections of the second waterway, he never makes mistakes. The gas pipelines we added here were built by him and his people—secretly connecting a branch from the upper main pipeline, ensuring safety, and not being discovered. This is not a job that ordinary people can handle..."

　　"Old Ghost rarely goes to the surface. He spends most of his time down here. He sometimes brags to us about things in the past when he's drunk. He says he was an engineer on the second waterway decades ago, and the Queen even personally awarded him a medal—but to be honest, not much of what he says is believable. I've seen his medal too. It's just a piece of iron with nothing on it, obviously picked up from some corner..."

　　"Alas, he probably inhaled too much toxic gas when he retreated to the second waterway back then—have I told you? When the last Queen's Guard retreated fifty years ago, they sealed off the second waterway. At that time, the shaft collapsed, and some toxic gas floated down from the upper level. Some artisans loyal to the Queen went to plug the leaks. Old Ghost seems to be one of them. It is said that his mind hasn't been normal since then."

　　"If he suddenly starts yelling about the Queen later, don't mind him... he doesn't mean to."

　　Accompanied by Nemo Wilkins' incessant chatter, Duncan and the others soon bypassed the fork and arrived at a rusty iron door near a sewer junction.

　　Nemo stepped forward, knocked on the door, greeted inside, and then pushed the door open: "Old Ghost, we have guests."

　　As soon as he finished speaking, a hoarse but loud voice came from inside—

　　"Ah, the Queen has come to inspect!?"