Listening carefully to Duncan’s suggestion, Agatha’s mind instantly flashed to the lifeless body that had temporarily served as her vessel for incarnation. With a subtle nod, she indicated that she had no objections to his proposal. “I will certainly take that approach into consideration,” she affirmed.
Duncan hummed thoughtfully in reply. His gaze then shifted towards Agatha’s form, which was projected through a glowing, fiery gateway. He scrutinized the indistinct and blurred background behind her before finally posing a casual question. “So, how are things going on your end?”
“Everything has been stabilizing at the cathedral,” Agatha responded, her voice tinged with a note of relief. “Today, we’ve been in touch with all the city’s churches to evaluate our available manpower and to assess the losses we’ve incurred in the recent past. Just as you mentioned last night, the city-state had a peaceful night. No ominous shadows emerged from the darkness. Even the areas around the psychiatric hospital and graveyard, which are typically more prone to disturbances, remained stable. That’s been a huge relief for me. If things continue in this manner, our troubles will be significantly reduced.”
Duncan raised an eyebrow, cutting through her update. “I meant your personal well-being. How are you managing, especially given the intense workload in your current, unusual form?”
“In all honesty, I don’t feel tired,” Agatha replied with a calm demeanor. “Perhaps being in this corpse-like state has its own set of advantages for me. I don’t experience fatigue or need rest in the way a living person does. As long as I can find solace in moments of prayer and reflection, I’ll manage just fine.”
“Are you currently in the cathedral’s prayer room?” Duncan inquired further.
“Yes, I’m situated in the main cathedral, specifically in the room that once belonged to Bishop Ivan. It’s a peaceful space,” Agatha added, her voice tinged with a hint of sadness as she looked around the room that was both familiar and special to her. “Now, the room is solely my domain.”
At that moment, Duncan felt an unusual, almost unsettling sensation. After a few seconds of hesitation, he asked, “Is Bartok comfortable with you contacting me from within the hallowed walls of the cathedral?”
Caught off guard, Agatha fell silent, as did Shirley and Dog who were nearby.
Shirley quietly mumbled, “Captain, how do you manage to think of such unique perspectives? And that question seemed… peculiar.”
Duncan shot her a stern glance. “Don’t interrupt when adults are discussing important matters. You should use this time to focus on your homework. You haven’t written a single word yet, have you?”
Resigned, Shirley returned her attention to her studies. Meanwhile, Agatha, who was still projected in the flame, regained her composure. She glanced curiously at the statue of the God of Death situated not too far from her before refocusing her attention on Duncan. “You know, I never thought about it,” she finally said.
Pausing to collect her thoughts, she posed a question. “Have you ever asked Vanna a similar question while she’s around you? What did she say?”
Duncan pondered the query, finding it quite valid. “I’ve never really asked her. Perhaps I should do so the next time we talk.”
Agatha seemed as if she wanted to add something but ultimately remained silent.
After a few awkward seconds, she deftly changed the subject. “On another note, I’m prepared to evaluate the current situation in the metal mine.”
“Really? Has the mine’s environment stabilized?” Duncan questioned, lifting an eyebrow. “Last time we spoke, you mentioned it would take a few more days.”
“The situation in the mine has largely stabilized. Going deeper still carries some inherent risks, but I’m not inclined to wait any longer,” Agatha said, her expression turning solemn. The gravity of her resolve was unmistakable. “I sense something drawing me into the depths, and this sensation has intensified since this morning. If we procrastinate any further, we might overlook something vital.”
Acknowledging her sentiment, Duncan nodded thoughtfully. Breaking the ensuing silence, he said, “Before you embark on this, meet me at 44 Oak Street.”
Caught off guard, Agatha’s eyes widened. “You’re joining me?”
“I’m quite intrigued by what might be hidden down there,” Duncan admitted.
“Understood. I’ll find you there before setting out,” Agatha confirmed.
Duncan gave another nod and with a flick of his hand, extinguished the flames that had been projecting Agatha’s image. He sighed deeply and looked down at the fishing rod in his hands that dangled aimlessly. “Well, fishing for nothing is also part of the journey,” he mused.
Turning to Shirley and Dog, who were lounging next to a wooden barrel, he instructed, “I’ll be in my room. Dog, make sure Shirley completes at least the first five pages of her vocabulary notebook. Once she finishes her homework, she’s free to do as she pleases.”
Eager to obey, Dog sprang to his feet, wagging his skeletal tail enthusiastically until Duncan’s figure disappeared up a nearby staircase. The shadowy hound then sank back into a more relaxed stance, but before lying down, he shot Shirley a stern look. “Quit daydreaming and get writing.”
“Oh, come on, Dog. You’re such a nag,” Shirley sighed, rubbing her cramping hand.
“I managed to keep a journal, and I don’t even have fingers. The least you can do is write with your human hands,” Dog retorted, settling down with an air of finality. “Read more, learn more words, Shirley. Don’t be hasty; the Captain truly has your best interests at heart. You’ve always longed for a life like other kids have, haven’t you? I can’t give that to you, but the Captain wants to. In his own way, he’s looking out for you and Nina. You should realize how rare…”
Before he could finish his tirade, Shirley raised her hands in surrender. “Okay, okay, I get it. You’re starting to sound like an overzealous caretaker,” she groaned.
Resigned, Dog grumbled but chose not to continue his lecture. Instead, he lowered his gaze back to the geometry textbook that lay before him.
As Dog read, his eyes—glowing a bloody red—focused intently on the text. Lines, shapes, and mathematical symbols seemed to dance in his abyssal mind, coming together to form complex geometric structures. Amid these formations, a flickering red light and a series of glowing points arranged in a matrix emerged, flashing intermittently.
It was at that moment that Shirley felt something strange. Quickly lifting her head, she looked towards Dog, who seemed to abruptly snap out of his trance. Springing up several meters into the air, the hound shouted, “Holy smokes!”
In a turbulent flashback, Shirley found herself catapulted into the air by her chain on the weather-worn deck of a ship. Tossed about like a helpless rag doll, she landed on the splintering wooden planks with a resonant thud. Scrambling up in a frenzy of disoriented movements, she dashed towards Dog, gripping his skull and shaking it with urgent concern. “What just happened to you? You looked so… different for a moment there!” Her young face was marred by lines of worry and confusion.
Stunned by Shirley’s vigorous shake, Dog struggled to regain his mental footing. “I… I’m not sure!” he blurted, visibly unsettled. “Something flashed before my eyes, something I couldn’t quite grasp, and then vanished before I could even process it. But I swear, I’m okay now.”
Nearby, Ai, who was engrossed in nibbling her French fries, cocked her head to the side and looked at Dog. “Remote server not responding, please check your internet connection?” she said in a tone laden with curiosity.
Dog was visibly perplexed. “What?”
Ai flapped her wings dismissively and sauntered away, mumbling to herself in an indecipherable blend of human and avian speech. “Need to top up some Q-coins? How about getting a monthly pass or a season subscription?”
Shirley waved her hand to shoo away Ai’s distractions, turning her attention back to Dog. “Ignore her; she’s got less focus than a hummingbird on caffeine. Are you sure you’re alright? You didn’t short-circuit your brain from too much math or something?”
With a confused shake of his skull, Dog responded, “As far as I’m aware, abyssal demons don’t fry their brains—if we even have brains, to begin with.”
After conducting a thorough visual and spiritual inspection, Shirley couldn’t identify anything amiss with Dog. “Alright, it looks like you’re fine,” she said, visibly relieved yet maintaining an air of caution.
Deciding to brush off the inexplicable occurrence, Dog resumed his engagement with the math book, starting from where he’d left off. Shirley, however, remained vigilant, her hand hovering near her chain, ready to pull it at the slightest hint of anything abnormal. Fortunately, the rest of the study session progressed without any further disturbances, culminating in Dog effortlessly solving the last problem.
Tossing his pen aside with a triumphant grin, Dog met Shirley’s eyes. “See? Told you I’m perfectly fine,” he said, his voice tinged with a reassuring confidence. However, his gaze soon meandered towards a nearby barrel. “Shirley, you’ve yet to complete your homework.”
Her face contorted into an elongated groan. Shirley clearly expressed her distaste for the reminder. Dog could only chuckle, shaking his head as he returned his attention to his math book. Although he was mostly certain that he was okay, a sliver of doubt clung stubbornly to his thoughts. He’d glimpsed something—not another abyssal demon summoned by the book, but something entirely different, more arcane, and utterly mystifying. What in the world had he seen?
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