Chapter 211

Chapter 211: Resurrection from Death (3)

Jonathan’s answer was brazen.

“Brother-in-law is still a patient. Should avoid things like caffeine, alcohol, nicotine, and such.”

“Then tea or something…”

“We happened to have chamomile.”

“At least juice or something…!”

Jonathan laughed heartily again. Usually, he wouldn’t call Liam “brother-in-law” even if his mouth was torn, but having found the perfect opportunity to torment him, he seemed to be getting his first dopamine rush in nearly a hundred years.

Liam Moore clutched his paper cup and mumbled dejectedly.

“I feel left out…”

He must have been quite hurt not to even notice being called “brother-in-law” by Jonathan.

Jonathan replied nonchalantly:

“Taking caffeine with medicine is hard on the liver.”

That was all true, so there was no way to argue. Liam let out an “ugh” and I stroked his broad back comfortingly. Why feel so left out? Sure, Jonathan did exclude you, but it was ultimately for your own good.

Meanwhile, Lucita, having stored her cigarette butt in a portable ashtray, waved her hand. Jonathan quickly opened the car door, and from inside the sliding vehicle, Saint-Germain reached out his hand to me. I wondered why, but it was a gesture asking for sandwiches.

Huh, why does this feel familiar? It’s like going on a filial duty tour with elderly relatives. The scene of a Korean holiday rest stop flashes before my eyes. Ah…! The baked potatoes…! I should have shown these people the taste of that famine-relief crop loaded with butter and salt….

“What would you like?”

Saint-Germain answered my question curtly:

“The one with ham.”

“Is pickle okay?”

“Fine.”

Ian timidly raised his hand from inside the car.

“Aunt, I don’t like pickles.”

“I thought so and got some without pickles too.”

Ian smiled brightly as I handed him the pickle-free sandwich.

Before departing, we took a moment to share sandwiches.

A thought briefly passed through my mind—how nice it would be if things could stay this peaceful, along with a brief expectation that we might be able to rest after this was all resolved.

* * *

The first candidate location was a castle near coastal cliffs. Though the village was quite far from the castle, there was a small church whose bells could be heard faintly at the castle when they rang. It was almost identical to the environment I’d seen in my hallucination.

We drove straight to the castle entrance. But as soon as we got out of the car, something peculiar caught our eye. The lock on the entrance door was undone, as if someone had been here recently.

I pondered what this might mean.

Lucita had definitely said no one lived here. A caretaker perhaps? If not that, then gypsies?

“I’ll guard the car.”

Jonathan said calmly. We decided to leave Ian with Jonathan too.

I, Liam, Lucita, and Saint-Germain pushed open the unlocked door and entered.

Unlike its long-abandoned exterior, the castle’s interior was surprisingly clean. Definitely different from what I’d seen in my hallucination. The facilities were well-maintained, and most notably, there was no dust or musty smell, suggesting good ventilation.

The only issue, if any, would be the cigarette butts, snack wrappers, and beer cans littering the floor. It seemed to be used as a hangout by young delinquents. With no permanent residents except for the occasional cleaning caretaker, and being far from the village, they wouldn’t have to worry about being caught. They must have used it quite openly.

Liam, briefly leaning on my shoulder, chuckled lightly.

“The vigor of youth is always a good thing.”

I smiled briefly at his stiff manner of speaking.

“You sound just like an old man.”

“Well, that’s because I am old. I’ve aged.”

I had no idea how to respond to Liam’s honest self-assessment. But seeing Saint-Germain tell him not to talk like that in front of his security guard, it was clearly something that would make Jonathan go wild.

There seemed nothing more to see here. As we left the castle, Jonathan, sitting in the driver’s seat, leaned halfway out the window and asked:

“Dead end?”

Liam nodded. I saw Lucita drawing a large X over the area she had circled on the map.

* * *

The second candidate was a castle twenty minutes away by car from the first one, situated in privately owned woods in a small city along the North Sea coast. Lucita said this one was relatively small, making it the least likely place for him to be staying.

She was right. The castle’s rough exterior had nothing particularly notable. The only thing catching the eye was an outdoor pool, which had collected water, perhaps due to poor drainage. You could see leaves piled up and rotting. The drain was completely blocked—it would take quite an effort to clean that up.

Anyway, this wasn’t it either. Lucita sighed and drew another X on the map.

* * *

When we drove down to near Dieppe, the final candidate came into view. It was a château with wings spread like wings on either side of a tall central building. Behind the château was a dense forest, and beyond the overgrown grass, you could see the coastline.

Actually, it was more fitting to call it a mansion than a castle. The building’s structure was perfectly symmetrical, with gray-blue roofs complementing dull brown walls. Seeing small windows in the roof suggested there was likely a second floor. Maybe three floors counting the attic. That was my rough visual estimate, at least.

I could instinctively tell he was here.

When I showed visible signs of tension, Liam placed his hand on my shoulder. I turned to face Liam Moore. Those gray eyes that always gave me confidence. Those eyes were solid and grave, without a hint of wavering. Liam mouthed words to me. It’s okay. I nodded slightly too. I know.

It’s fine. Didn’t we send back a god who was targeting the world in <Misty London>? Nothing could stop us now.

“Ready?”

Saint-Germain asked casually. His white hair fluttered in the sea breeze. Seeing him so relaxed, hands in pockets as if just going for a neighborhood stroll, helped ease my tension.

“Yes, yes, President.”

Everyone here could tell without it needing to be said.

This was his stronghold.

Lucita silently picked up her musket. Jonathan stuffed something into his jacket’s inner pocket, and Ian too retrieved a book from his backpack. Only after such thorough preparation could we enter the castle.

The mansion’s doors were wide open. As if waiting for our arrival.

The dark and empty interior was visible first. All windows were covered with thick blackout curtains, making the dim light entering through the open door the only illumination in the mansion. We entered and looked around.

The checkerboard floor tiles alternating black and gold were worn and cracked everywhere, and piles of candles were scattered about, presumably to light the darkness. The interior wallpaper was blackened with mold in places, and one wall even showed red water stains, perhaps from rain leakage. Occasionally, a rusty chandelier would screech out a cry as it swayed in drafts from somewhere.

There wasn’t enough light to examine the mansion’s interior in detail. I approached the piles of candles. They were all burned down to almost nothing, with barely any wick remaining—not much usable. I picked up one of the longer ones, about two finger-joints in length.

“It’s dark.”

When I muttered this, Lucita, holding her gun at an angle, added:

“And damp.”

We didn’t need to say it was the perfect environment for breeding brain leeches.

We walked along the corridor in silence for a while, relying on the faint candlelight. Our footsteps echoed through the empty corridor with each step.

White cloths covered the furniture scattered throughout the corridor, but despite such care, thick dust had accumulated on the cloths, suggesting no one had passed through.

The stairs to the second floor were deeply cracked and partly collapsed, looking very unstable. They seemed perfect for causing someone to fall if any of us tried using them.

The eerie cobwebs draped throughout the corridor were almost identical to what I’d seen in my hallucination, but at the same time, I had an inexplicable sense of déjà vu, as if I’d been here before.

There was no fishy smell. Just… a lonely mansion forgotten in time. It was too ordinary and quiet to be an evil den breeding brain leeches that ate human brains and threatened world order.

“We should find the place you saw.”

Liam strode forward, taking the lead. His gray cashmere coat swayed lightly along its seams.

“If it’s structured like other mansions, there must be a banquet hall.”

“Because they need to gather people?”

“Yes, because they need to bring people in.”

Just as those words finished—

When we emerged from one corridor, we found ourselves facing numerous doors surrounding us in a circular space.