..
After seeing Fox off, Wood remained immersed in sorrow, standing on the street feeling lost.
At that moment, a wandering artist dressed as a clown approached him.
“Hello, could you..”
I don't have much on me—
It's okay, it's okay, I..
The Man, wearing a colorful curly wig, spoke dejectedly and turned to leave.
Wait!
Wood called out to the Man, pulling all the loose change from his wallet. "This is all I have right now, take it all!"
—Why?!
The Man looked at Wood in shock.
I don't know why either.. maybe because you, you're so thin you could collapse at any moment.. die.. I have also nearly ended up in your situation.. if not for.. anyway, just stay alive..
Thank you.
The Man's eyes were filled with tears, his parched lips rubbed together several times before he finally uttered a single sentence: "May God bless you."
(God?)
Wood sighed secretly.
He never thought he would receive the protection of God; instead, it was the man before him—
Two days later—
Mister Wood, I am very sorry, but we found your fingerprints on a corpse.
-----------------------
Author's Note: Just let it keep spiraling out of control, I've already let it fly ()
Chapter 69 Quetzalcoatl's Secret Treasure (6)
“What do you mean?”
Wood showed a wary expression.
Lately, he had encountered so many unexpected and strange occurrences that he now instinctively suspected any unusual situation was a conspiracy by Gabriel, Cain, or Odin.
Don't worry, we don't mean to make things difficult for you. We just want to know—where did you go yesterday and the day before? Who did you see? Who can provide an alibi for you?
Two Military Police looked at him sternly: "Please make sure to answer our questions seriously, otherwise—"
Or else what?
Wood retorted.
We will apply for a formal arrest warrant.
“..”
Hearing this, Wood's eyes darted around quickly: "In other words, you are standing before me now in the capacity of ordinary police officers, without any power of compulsory enforcement?"
So you believe we need a warrant to interrogate you..
The Black policeman on the left, standing nearly two meters tall, bared his white teeth in a grin. "Mister Wood, a beautiful and petite blonde Caucasian male like you, once you enter prison—if you don't get special treatment for solitary confinement—you will definitely become everyone's wife."
Actually, I want to pin you down and have a hard one right now!
The White Police Officer, who possessed excessively thick hair like an incompletely evolved gorilla, added unexpectedly, "Your skin looks smoother than my wife's, I can't even find a hint of stubble on your chin, you smell very faint. If someone like you were—"
Shut up!
Wood blurted out, interrupting the White Police Officer's sexual harassment: "This is a private establishment!"
We don't want to offend your employer, but—if you refuse our questioning and investigation, we also have the right—
Hello~
A slightly cheerful Voice rang out, followed by an unexpected Shadow appearing before the three of them.
It was actually Cain!
What surprised Wood even more was—
Upon seeing Cain, the two police officers shouted in unison, "Mr. Gai."
I will persuade Mister Wood to go to the Police Station with you for questioning; before that, I would like to speak with him privately.
No problem.
Unlike the fierce demeanor shown toward Wood, the two officers were behaving exceptionally docile at this moment, Cain's eyes—at the very depths of their deep black—were faintly shimmering with gold!
Alarm bells rang loudly in Wood's mind.
(That Guy, That Guy..)
Don't be afraid, I have no intention of harming you.
Cain spoke softly as he walked up to Wood, bracing the wall with his left hand, his right hand—
Slap!
Before she could even touch Wood's face, he struck his hand away.
Talk is talk, so don't get handsy.
“——!”
Cain swallowed his displeasure and said with a smile, "I have already been to the morgue to see the corpse."
Hmm?
Wood looked up, gazing intently at Cain.
“It is winter now, fresh homeless corpses appear on the streets of New York every morning. Professional corpse collectors take these bodies away before the Sun rises and sell them by grade—my Followers and I are among their most important customers. We carefully select corpses that meet the requirements, process them into professional feed for the 'Human-Pigs,' and once the 'Human-Pigs' have grown, we slaughter them to create the delicacies that are indispensable for the Black Mass."
.. Shut up!
Wood couldn't help but curse, "I have no interest in your world!"
But I am very interested in you. It just so happens that Master has gone on a business trip to South America, New York is currently..
Cain's voice gradually took on an ambiguous haze: "Hey, are you interested in attending the feast three days from now? If you attend, I will pardon those children who are to serve as ingredients for the meal that day."
“You.. you wouldn't even spare the children!”
Wood trembled with rage, wishing he could draw the Holy Sword on the spot and pierce Cain.
Cain stated with unusual calm, "I do not eat children, but my Followers believe that the flesh and blood of young children can delay aging or even reshape youth—by the way, the reason they believe this theory is because, deep down, they already possess a frantic faith and need for such beings. As for whether Cain, the Progenitor of Bloodline they recognize, truly relies on eating human flesh and drinking human blood to maintain eternal youth—that is completely unimportant!"
“..”
I know what they want, I know how they view me, so—in their world, I exist only as a symbol, descending occasionally to say a few words and show them a small 'Miracle'—in fact, if I were to contact them too frequently, it might instead trigger their dissatisfaction, greed, the shaking of their faith.
What exactly are you trying to say?
What I want to say is, the corpse where your fingerprints were found on the surface of the body experienced something extraordinary before death.
Cain withdrew his playful expression and said coldly, "That poor guy had not only had his eyes and heart gouged out during his lifetime, but all his blood, including the interstitial fluid in his body, was completely drained—it is almost impossible for my followers to care about the death of a vagrant, but they care about this corpse, because it means an existence has appeared within New York City that could pose a threat to their lives!"
So, it's because you're afraid the blade will fall on you instead.
Please provide the paragraph you would like me to translate.
Cain nodded with a half-smile: "Unlike those pure maniacs who are intoxicated in body and mind by madness, envisioning the most magnificent death for themselves, those who are more obsessed with privilege and rely on privilege to cruelly abuse their fellow creatures are the ones who fear equal cruelty falling upon themselves even more—from this perspective, the upper class of America is a group of people even worse than Nero. Nero knew he was mad, he knew his madness would one day be severed by an angry butcher's blade, but they delude themselves into seeking eternal life, using the bones of the Sewer rats as foundations to build their so-called immortal dynasties."
“..”
Wood stared at Cain in stunned silence, only managing to squeeze out a single sentence after a long moment: "—No wonder Master said you are a hollow man, so 'empty' that you border on Nothingness."
If you were like me, having been steeped in the most hideous, despicable, filthy, lewd filth of the human world for thousands of years, you would become just as empty as I am.
..
..
Wood walked into the forensic studio, where the air was filled with the scent of disinfectant and the stench of corpses.
Everything here made him feel uneasy, as if he had walked into a slaughterhouse, especially when he saw, through the translucent curtain, the homeless corpse lying on the dissection table, having been cut into several parts by the forensic doctors.
(It's like a butcher shop. Even though saying that might be a bit offensive, but..)
The more he thought about it, the more uncomfortable Wood felt, he bit his lip to suppress the urge to vomit.
At that moment, the head forensic pathologist walked in, approached Wood, proactively reached out his hand: "Hello, Mister Wood."
Hello—
Wood endured the discomfort and accepted the other man's handshake, observing him carefully—he appeared to be about fifty years old, nearly 1.9 meters tall, with a thin build that made his frame look large. He had brownish-black hair, sunken cheeks, cold eyes; despite wearing glasses, he possessed a fierce and savage aura, looking nothing like an intellectual.
Do you feel that my appearance doesn't meet your expectations?
“..”
Don't be deceived by movies and TV shows; being a 'forensic pathologist' is, after all, just a job—a job that cannot be performed without a strong heart and a sturdy body. After all, human bones are exceptionally hard, our work involves cutting bodies open and removing organs and other viscera for study.
—Can we get straight to the point?
Wood couldn't help but interrupt the other's flamboyant boasting: "I heard you found my fingerprints on the body of a vagrant who died under abnormal circumstances."
Yes.
That vagrant—no, why would my fingerprint samples be in your database?
Wood asked sharply, "So far, I have no criminal record."
But Mister Wood, you are a specially recruited part-time staff member of the Special Events Investigation Department—from the moment you accepted this part-time position, you have become a person of interest to us.
.. What do you mean by that?
Wood narrowed his eyes. The Forensic Supervisor's remarks and gaze made him feel an extraordinary sense of discomfort, as if he were not a human being in That Guy's eyes, but merely a pile of flesh lying on an autopsy table. He even suspected that, in his spare time, That Guy might take pieces of flesh sliced from the deceased to cook and eat.
We crave you.