The guard's hut fell silent, and a strange silence seemed to freeze in the air—the old guard even had the illusion that even the altar on the desk, the candle flames, the smoke of incense, and the faint spiritual power that permeated the air, froze for a moment.

Delusion?

The old man looked up in confusion and saw the candlestick flames in his field of vision fluttering, but as if they had only begun to beat the moment he looked up.

He stared at the pale flame for a long time before slowly shaking his head, refocusing his gaze on the letter in front of him, and looking at the words on it with a strange mood that he had never had in his life.

But after only a few lines, he could no longer care about the sense of disobedience and embarrassment in his heart—the contents of the letter began to make him realize the seriousness of the matter.

Warnings that the city-state is being eroded and infiltrated by the forces of the deep sea, evidence of large-scale activity of the Annihilation Cultists, speculation that the Netherworld Lord has invaded the real world, and······ A warning about Dagger Island.

The old warden stared at the lines of the letter in his hand, and suddenly felt that the unsettling atmosphere that had recently spread in the city-state finally had an explanation.

He didn't know if he should believe that this was a "report" from some unspeakable existence, but there was no doubt about one thing - the gatekeeper must be notified immediately, and the cathedral must be notified at this time!

Agatha stooped down to examine the sleeping Lady Senjin on the couch - the latter was still asleep, unaware that a large crowd of guards had gathered in the room by this time, and even occasionally muttered uncomfortably in her sleep.

She can also talk in her dreams, which shows that she was not mentally damaged during the "attack", and the uninvited guests who entered the house before were not malicious.

Agatha's gaze swept over Garoni, the body of this young lady Senjin could almost be described as burly - as is the case with most Sengins, they were born with well-developed bodies and skin as tough as stones - and after a brief examination, the young gatekeeper noticed that the muscles on the other party's body tensed from time to time, coupled with the vague and uneasy dream words he had just heard... … It seems that the dream of this lady of the Senjin people is not stable.

"No external injuries, no signs of mental pollution, no signs of struggle, it appears to be just an ordinary fall asleep - but it can't be woken up," a priest in a gray coat stood aside and reported to Agatha what he was aware of, "Considering that there are no signs of damage to the door lock, and there are signs of use in the kitchen, it is preliminarily determined that 'the intruder was invited into the house.'"

「····· It could be an acquaintance, or it could be a trusted guest," Agatha muttered softly, "How's the second floor going?"

"A large number of samples have been collected, and a final death note has been found, and the people who left it are supposed to be the ····· in the room The source of the anomalous substance," the priest nodded, "and based on other clues found in the house, it is believed that the person who left the record should be called 'Brown Scott, a folklorist.'"

"Folklorist?" Agatha frowned, "Have you investigated the background information?"

"Someone has been sent to the nearest resident management office to raise the file, but there has been no response yet."

"You take care of this lady here first," Agatha nodded, "I'll go to the second floor to see what is going on."

"Yes, Gatekeeper."

In the second-floor study, where the guards had completed their preliminary identification and sample collection, Agatha was trying to remove the dried-up "mud" from the shelves in order to divert the large collection of books in the room.

In places where the transcendent has gone out of control, there is a high risk that the books left on the site will be contaminated by the supernatural powers, and it is necessary to move and seal them for study - even if there is a risk of "destroying the scene" in doing so.

Agatha's gaze fell on the gray-black mud that had dried.

These things······ She was reminded of the samples she had collected in Cemetery No. 3, the ones that... A strange substance that appears to be an "element".

She also saw the "dying record" that the pastor had mentioned—it was placed in the most prominent place on her desk.

At first glance at the record, Agatha could tell that the manuscript had been processed, that it had obvious signs of cleaning on its surface, and that it had been cleaned with great care.

It didn't seem like what an intruder with bad intentions would do, but like a "professional" who was investigating the incident for a legitimate purpose like herself, and Agatha already had some preliminary conjectures in her mind when she thought of the lady who was sleeping soundly on the first floor.

A mysterious third party who doesn't seem to be an enemy at least—the same group of people fighting the Annihilation in the alley outside?

If yes······ Then the power of this "third party" should be paid attention to.

With all sorts of conjectures and inferences in her mind, Agatha's gaze slowly swept over the words on the "dying record", and as the words soaked in determination, courage, and enlightenment came into view, the gatekeeper's gaze gradually became heavy and serious.

The owner who left the record...... He had retained his conscious consciousness and memory.

After a brief silence, Agatha took a soft breath as she solemnly placed the dying note back on her desk, then lifted the cane she had with her with one hand and slowly swiped it across the floor with the end of the tin cane.

The sound of metal and wood grinding sounded, and the pale flame burned at the end of the staff, leaving the same pale glowing marks on the floor, and as the flame and the glowing traces extended, the sound of the cane rubbing on the floor began to change, and it became low and sluggish, as if a thick barrier had been established invisibly, isolating the surrounding space little by little.

Soon, Agatha sketched a triangle large enough for an adult to stand on, depicting the runes of Bartók, the god of death, in the triangle, and then she stepped into the center of the triangle, placing her staff at her side with one hand and reaching her eye socket with the other.

A vivid eyeball popped out of its socket and landed in the palm of her hand.

For a moment, the surroundings fell silent, and all voices from the real dimension were isolated from the triangle by an invisible barrier, and then countless whispers emerged from the silence, as if hundreds of invisible peeps were gathering outside the triangle, chattering about something to the gatekeeper.

Agatha raised her hand, palm up, and scanned her surroundings with her own eyeballs.

Everything in the room, including the busy guards, the dust in the air, and the hands of the clock on the wall, came to a standstill like solidified amber, and in the stillness quickly faded in color and darkness, and a strange pale glow filtered in through the windows, reflecting the shadows of the room through the wooden planks that sealed the windows.

And in this strange pale and still space-time, only Agatha in the middle of the triangle still maintains the appearance and color of a living person, she closes her eyes tightly, only holds her eyeball with her left hand, and calmly speaks while scanning the surroundings: "I want to talk to the dead here."

The frustrating murmur of the surrounding murmurs suddenly subsided considerably, and Agatha turned her left hand to let her eyes look at the desk not far away.

It is the last place where the folklorist Brown Scott, who left the "dying notes," worked, and theoretically, if there was ever a soul that stayed here, some of its afterglow would still linger here.

Even if the "mud" everywhere in the room showed that it was most likely a "monster" condensed by extraordinary power, that "monster" was obviously human in its body, and Agatha was already convinced of this after reading the record.

But beside the empty desk, she found nothing.

There is no afterglow of the soul, no projection of obsession, not even a flash of light representing the remnant of spirituality, there is only a table that has lost its color, and on the table is a pile of black substance, and the matter rises with fine smoke.

Agatha's eyeballs flickered slowly in the palm of her hand.

The gatekeeper is thinking.

Is it because it has been too long since you died, and the afterglow of your soul has dissipated? Or is it because the room was just a "fake", so there is no real humanity, but only a simulation of memories and people

Case? Or······ That soul has passed through Bartók's gates and entered the resting place?

The last conjecture is particularly unlikely——- after all, judging from the current state of the room, even if the soul of "Brown Scott" was left here, it was already heavily contaminated, and the soul was contaminated...... You can't get through that door.

But where did the soul go?

The muffled whispers around them were louder again, and they were even louder and more annoying than before.

The shadows of the spirit realm are starting to get restless, and they don't have a good feeling for uninvited guests who suddenly invade - even as powerful gatekeepers, it's best not to stay in this depth for too long.

Thinking of this, Agatha lifted her cane and paused twice on the floor.

The tin cane made a thunderous thud when it slammed on the ground.

"Agatha, the gatekeeper of the earthly world, wants to talk to the gatekeeper of the world of the dead."