Mystery: Gray Walker

Chapter 97 The Real Lair

"But doubt is just doubt. There is no solid evidence or reliable record to tell us what happened in that period of history that led to the gradual disappearance of such a 'great ruler'."

"There are several research directions within the church regarding that hidden history. Some believe that the equally vanished 'Records of Revelation' may have preserved unknown documents. The task Olivier gave you earlier was related to this."

Clarice's gaze returned to the brooch.

"Now you see this..."

Clarice lowered her voice and stated her judgment:

"The scene that took place in the basement of Fairfax Manor... my personal speculation is that it is very likely related to the power represented by the name 'The Fool,' and it cannot be ruled out that it was some kind of divine manifestation."

The room was so quiet that you could hear the rustling of leaves outside the window.

While this conclusion is shocking, it is currently the most logical speculation.

Only a power at the level of a deity could so easily resolve a long-planned and successful ritual to bring down an evil god.

"but,"

Clarice then changed the subject, "This does not rule out the danger of the brooch itself; on the contrary, I think it may be more dangerous than we previously assessed."

Green frowned slightly: "Because it involves deities?"

"more than."

Clarice shook her head. "An item directly related to a dormant god could be a huge mystery in itself, a dangerous 'anchor,' or... part of a 'summoning ritual' that we cannot understand."

"If my speculation is true... Green, this means it has been 'activated,' establishing a connection with some higher level of existence. This connection is two-way, and no one can guarantee what it will bring next—another salvation or an irreversible disaster."

She took a step back, creating some distance between herself and the brooch.

"Until you discover its clear effects, it's best not to use its power. And minimize direct contact and spiritual resonance with it."

Green remained silent, slowly withdrawing his hand and gripping the brooch tightly.

"Yes, I understand." Green nodded, giving a brief reply.

Clarice glanced at Green, her tone softening. "Of course, if you encounter an extremely critical, life-or-death situation, and it 'voluntarily' responds to you... survival takes priority. But you must report immediately and in detail afterwards."

"Okay," Green agreed. This was a reasonable compromise.

Clarice seemed to have finished her investigation and warning about her "personal conditions," turned around and walked back to her desk, pressing an inconspicuous brass bell on the corner of the desk.

Soon, footsteps were heard outside the door, and the middle-aged woman from before pushed the door open and entered.

"Take Mr. Maurice to see Alvin and give him a orientation."

Clarice gave the order, then looked at Grimm, "Irwin will tell you what to do next. Remember what I said, Grimm Morris. On this path, curiosity is sometimes a driving force, but more often than not, it's the shortest shortcut to chaos and destruction."

"This applies to knowledge, and even more so to...miracles."

Her gaze swept meaningfully over where Green had placed the brooch, she paused, and continued:

"Of course, if you want to learn about some of the doctrines or basic information of the Church of the Fools, this is all open to the public; it's available in our archives."

"Thank you for reminding me." Green nodded slightly and followed the middle-aged woman out of the room.

The door closed gently behind me.

Green followed the gentle-looking middle-aged woman through the quiet corridors inside the sanatorium.

"Mr. Morris, this way please."

The middle-aged woman stopped in front of a door marked "Recreational Activity Room," knocked gently, and then pushed it open.

The scene inside was completely different from what Green had envisioned as the "newcomer orientation" venue.

The room is spacious and bright, with a floor-to-ceiling window on one side, overlooking a neatly manicured winter courtyard.

A thick carpet covered the center, with several comfortable sofas and low tables scattered around. The bookshelves against the wall were crammed with books, ranging from weighty classics to popular novels, but to Greene they seemed more like decorations.

In the corner, there was even an old piano and a small bar, although the bar only had tea sets and a coffee pot on it.

Alvin was sprawled in the largest sofa in an extremely relaxed posture, holding a novel with a fancy binding and an ambiguous pattern on the cover, reading it intently.

Sometimes he would show a wonderful expression, sometimes he would raise his eyebrows, and he would make a soft "tsk tsk" sound.

Hearing the door open, he looked up abruptly. Upon seeing Green and the middle-aged woman, a flash of panic crossed his face. He quickly stuffed the book into the gap between the sofa cushion and the back of the sofa, his movements very fluid.

"Aha! Our freshly trained night watchman has arrived!"

He immediately stood up, a warm smile on his face, and went to greet her.

"Mrs. Peggy, thank you for your hard work! Green, please come in, don't be shy, make yourself at home... uh, the activity room at the sanatorium will do!"

As he spoke, he stood up and used his body to block the corner of the sofa where the books were stuffed.

Green glanced at it and raised an eyebrow. It was "The Confessions of a Socialite".

"...As expected of the 'Midnight Poet,' your research is truly meticulous." Green looked at Alvin with a look of sudden realization.

Mrs. Peggy smiled, seemingly oblivious to everything, and nodded slightly. "Mr. Sterling, Mr. Morris, please make yourselves at home."

After saying that, he turned and left.

Alvin breathed a sigh of relief, put his arm around Green's shoulder, and lowered his voice:

"Let's go, let's go. There are too many people here, it's not the place to talk. Our 'office' is downstairs, that's where we're on our own."

Irwin led Green through the rest area and toward a seemingly ordinary employee passageway.

"So well hidden?" Green asked, somewhat puzzled.

In his mind, as official extraordinary beings, the Night's Watch's stronghold should be... more formal?

Erwin patted Grimm on the shoulder, looking old-fashioned. "What is the core principle of the Church of the Night? Secrecy! If we're not secretive, our goddess will be unhappy."

"...That makes sense." Green agreed with this explanation.

At the end of the passage was an inconspicuous wooden door with a sign next to it that read "Equipment Room, No Unauthorized Personnel Allowed".

Alvin took out his key and opened the door, revealing a cramped space piled with cleaning tools and old sheets. He closed the door behind him and tapped rhythmically a few times on an old wooden wardrobe against the wall.

A slight mechanical sound rang out, and the side of the wardrobe slid open silently, revealing a downward passage paved with stone steps.

The walls are inlaid with luminous stones that emit a soft white light, the air is slightly cool, and there is a scent of old books, incense, and some kind of metallic maintenance oil.

"Welcome to the true lair of the Oberhafen Night's Watch."

Erwin stepped down the stairs first. "The upstairs is for ordinary people. This is where we work and save our lives."

The steps were short, ending at a heavy metal door with an embossed emblem of the night.

Erwin placed his palm on the center of the holy emblem, a flash of spiritual light appeared, and the door opened silently inward.

The space behind the door was more spacious than Green had imagined.

This is a multi-functional area that serves as an office, meeting room, and temporary rest area.

Several sturdy wooden tables were put together, piled with documents, maps, and some strange instruments.

A detailed map of Oberhafen was pinned to the wall, with some locations marked.

The bookshelves were crammed with heavy books and files, and in the corner sat a small stove with a hissing coffee pot on it.

On the other side were weapon racks and several locked cabinets.

The overall atmosphere is busy, pragmatic, and has a tense sense of order, which is completely different from the tranquility and peace of the sanatorium upstairs.

There was only one person in the room, Rex. He was sitting at the table, carefully wiping a crossbow with a complex structure and mysterious patterns with a soft cloth.

Hearing the noise, he looked up, nodded to Green as a greeting, and then continued to focus on his work.

As Alvin led Green toward the cabinet area, a door on the other side of the room was pushed open.

A woman who looked to be in her thirties, wearing glasses and with her hair neatly tied back, came out carrying a tray with several organized documents and a glass of water on it.

She was wearing a dark, simple but well-made dress, and her expression was serious and earnest.

"Ah, perfect."

Irwin stopped and turned to the woman. "Grimm, come and meet one of the core pillars of our team, Ms. Eliza White, our Chief Civil Servants and Archivist, Sequence... um, Eliza, what are you again? 'The Reader' or 'The Archaeologist'?"

Alvin scratched his head, clearly unsure.

Eliza White gently placed the tray on the main table, adjusted her glasses, and said calmly:

"He's an 'archaeologist,' Mr. Sterling. Although he's currently mainly in charge of paperwork and archives."

She turned to Green, nodded slightly, and quickly scanned him through her glasses. "You must be Mr. Green Morris? I've seen your preliminary file. Welcome."