62: Chapter 62 Leaving Tingen

The fourth day after the curtain fell on the Tingen catastrophe.

Sitting behind the acting captain's desk, Old Neil signed the last pension claim form for the fallen. Pausing his pen slightly, he set it down, slowly leaned back against his chair, and silently gazed at the spire of Saint Selena Cathedral outside the window, remaining quiet for a long time.

This desk, this office—he had been looking after them on behalf of the captain for four days, yet he still couldn't get used to it.

The enamel cup on the corner of the desk, the half-eaten pack of digestive biscuits in the drawer, the map of Tingen on the wall riddled with pinholes... everything was exactly as it had been when Dunn was alive, completely unchanged. Yet, it was missing its steady, reliable owner who had always presided here.

Old Neil picked up his own enamel cup, took a sip of cold black tea to suppress the swelling gloom in his heart, and lowered his head to open the next document.

At the same time, the post-disaster restoration of Iron Cross Street was in full swing.

The lifts slowly suspended in the air as municipal workers methodically replaced the gas lampposts snapped in half by the shockwave of the catastrophe. Brand-new brass lampshades bathed in the sunlight, rippling with a warm, bright luster.

The dead fish in the lower reaches of the Hoi River had all been salvaged and buried. After being cleansed with holy water, the river shed its turbidity and returned to clarity. The Dock District became bustling once more, with the roar of steam winches and the shouts of porters rising and falling, bringing the familiar warmth of daily life back to this land.

The three thousand poor from the slums of East Borough, who had been evacuated to the northern suburbs' highlands by Lu Li ahead of time, were now returning home one after another after confirming the city was safe.

On the ruins of the collapsed wooden shacks, temporary tents were scattered. A few elderly women squatted in front of their tents, using old strips of cloth to tie white flowers in the evening breeze. They couldn't clearly remember the face of the young man who had run around in the dead of night urging everyone to flee north, but they firmly remembered his steady, calm voice and that comforting phrase, 'Go north,' which was as gentle as a familiar neighbor's warm advice.

Inside his apartment room, Lu Li was silently packing his luggage.

He securely embedded the jiaowei sealing box into the compartment of his suitcase, placing it close to his body along with the silver snake emblem pendant.

The brooch fragment, resealed and returned by Old Neil, had previously been kept in the squad's Potion Room safe alongside jiaowei.

After the night of the full moon, the two broken halves of the token had produced a very subtle spiritual resonance. The frequency of the fluctuations actually aligned perfectly with the golden runes deep within the seals of Chanis Gate.

After investigating, Old Neil confirmed there was no risk of corruption, but he still advised him to store them separately to play it safe.

Lu Li followed the advice, sealing the pendant inside the sealing box and placing the brooch fragment into a lead-lined evidence bag, keeping it close to his person. Then, he fished out the fragment of the worm of time from his pouch and lightly touched it with his fingertips, confirming it was undamaged. The tiny crack on the edge of the fragment had not spread, and the dim light within was quietly pulsing in a steady, constant rhythm, brightening and fading.

He stuffed that misprinted copy of the Outline of Loen's Modern History into the side pocket of his suitcase.

The ink smudge on page thirty-seven was still eerie. Looking through the light, a line of dark green writing, so faint it was almost invisible, loomed indistinctly. Its encryption method shared the same origin as the hidden message on the back of the snake emblem pendant.

After heading to Backlund, his first priority would be to thoroughly investigate the archives of old bookstores to completely crack this hidden secret.

The potion recipe for Sequence 7: Swindler was already deeply engraved in his heart, etched into every inch of his spiritual circuit.

The main ingredients were adult Transformation Lizard pituitary gland extract and Deceiver hyoid bone powder; the supplementary ingredients included time-order grass root powder, Shadow Grass juice, eclipse rainwater, and the ashes of black cat whiskers.

Among them, the Transformation Lizard extract had already been secured on the official Backlund market. Although the scarce Deceiver hyoid bone powder's stock had been cleared out by a mysterious client, they left a message saying that as long as he needed it, it would be prepared in the locker on time. He had already gathered most of the supplementary ingredients from the Tingen squad's Potion Room reserves, lacking only the final ritual catalyst—an object that had carried deception and had been used to blind others.

This final step of opportunity was something others could not help him with; he could only wait until he arrived in Backlund to find a suitable scene and target to complete it himself.

On the eve of his departure, Old Neil made a special trip to verify his condition. The Prometheus potion had been completely digested, his spiritual circuits were stable and full, and all the prerequisites for advancing to Sequence 7 had been perfectly met.

Lu Li raised his hand, took out the paper figurine gifted to him by Klein from the inner side of his lapel, and quietly held it in his palm.

The paper figurine was small, its surface covered with extremely faint gray fog patterns. As it sat in his palm, it slowly spun on its own, and with each rotation, a layer of fine, shimmering silver light would float up.

This was the most precious gift he had received in Tingen. It had nothing to do with Sealed Artifacts or potion materials, but it was the only bond that allowed him to transcend space and produce a faint resonance with Klein above the gray fog.

He carefully placed the paper figurine back into his inner breast pocket, pressing it against the faint bruise left by the spiritual impact.

He did not go door-to-door to say goodbye.

As he passed the breakroom door, Leonard was squatting by the table repairing an old toaster, an open book of poetry on his lap, and a screwdriver clamped between his teeth.

Catching sight of Lu Li outside the door, he merely tilted his chin casually and said in a lazy tone, "It's almost fixed. I'll save the first slice of toast for your journey rations."

"No need," Lu Li declined softly.

Leonard pulled the screwdriver from his mouth, looked up at him with a hint of familiar amusement in his eyes, and said, "I've already submitted my application for the Red Gloves. There's a high probability I'll be sent to Backlund for missions in the future. Don't pretend you don't know me when the time comes."

With that, he popped the screwdriver back into his mouth and lowered his head to focus on the mechanical parts in his hands. A quiet, clicking sound of turning screws rose, serving as a silent farewell.

In the archives room, Daly was bent over her desk, organizing files on the anomalous incidents following the catastrophe.

Seeing Lu Li push open the door and enter, she offered no unnecessary pleasantries or warnings, but silently took a brand-new Spirit Medium rune ring from her drawer and gently slid it to the center of the desk.

The outer ring was engraved with fine silver runes. It was a contact token exclusive to Spirit Mediums, sufficient to maintain a Spirit World channel spanning the entire Loen Kingdom, making long-distance spirit channeling possible.

"Thank you." Lu Li reached out and took the ring.

Daly did not reply. Her eyes remained lowered as she held a red pen, meticulously circling and correcting dates on the files. In the quiet atmosphere, there was only silent blessing and reluctance to see him go.

The final farewell was in the Potion Room.

Wearing buckskin gloves, Old Neil was bent over his desk proofreading the spiritual fluctuation records of the jiaowei sealing box, checking every word with meticulous rigor. Hearing footsteps, he looked up, took off his gloves, and pulled two items from his drawer.

A lead-sealed packet of time-order grass root powder, in a generous amount sufficient to brew two portions of the Sequence 7 potion; and a newly calibrated spiritual detection needle, a new model he had recalibrated after the Battle of the Full Moon, with significantly increased sensitivity to adapt to the high-density, complex spiritual environment of Backlund.

"You only lack the final ritual catalyst. No one can do this for you; you can only rely on yourself." Old Neil handed the items over, his tone steady and warm. "In the future, while you're in Backlund, whenever you encounter difficulties related to potions or spirituality, just write back. The Tingen squad's Potion Room will always have a place for you. Don't send the letters to the security company; entrust them all to Rozanne, and she will properly forward them."

Lu Li tucked the supplies securely into his pouch, paused at the door of the Potion Room, and turned back to look.

The old man who had guarded Chanis Gate for fifteen years had gone through a catastrophe, his journal destroyed, his staff broken, and his fingertips scorched with dark scars from spiritual backlash, yet he remained as steady as ever.

His back was slightly bent, the veins on the back of his hand holding the enamel cup subtly showing, but deep within his cloudy, tired eyes, there always burned an unextinguished spark of calm fire.

"Take care."

With a soft farewell, Lu Li turned, pushed open the door of the Potion Room, and completely stepped out of this small room that had carried countless moments of his growth and accumulation.

Dusk gathered as the afterglow scattered far and wide.

Carrying his suitcase, Lu Li walked slowly through the familiar Zoutland Street.

The spire of Saint Selena Cathedral stood solemnly, surrounded by the deep, silent twilight.

The golden sealing runes deep within Chanis Gate continued to flicker slowly in an eternal rhythm, weak yet firm, as if continuing to guard this city and watch over this Door of the Abyss on behalf of the fallen Dunn.

On the side steps of the cathedral, many citizens had voluntarily placed white flowers to mourn the souls lost in the catastrophe. The elderly woman who had once waved and shouted for him to run in the war-torn alleyways was among them, lowering her head to arrange the plain white paper flowers.

She could no longer recognize this young man whom she had once urged to flee for his life.

Lu Li stood silently, bent down, and gently placed the first copper whistle issued to him when he joined the squad among the white flowers.

The tiny scratch he had personally carved on the mouthpiece of the whistle was still clear, witnessing all of his beginnings and past in Tingen.

Leaving this copper whistle, which had accompanied his first steps into the Beyonder world, right here on the land Dunn had spent his life guarding, was its best final resting place.

At the Tingen railway station platform, coal smoke and steam intertwined into a hazy white mist, drifting in the cool evening breeze.

Lu Li stood on the platform, his simple suitcase at his feet, clutching a steam train ticket to Backlund in his hand.

Before leaving, he took out the Outline of Loen's Modern History once again and flipped to page thirty-seven. Where the light shone through, the dark green hidden writing still faintly emerged, silently speaking of unsolved secrets.

Closing the book, packing it away, and lifting his suitcase.

Amidst a long, drawn-out whistle, the steam train slowly chugged to life.

Outside the carriage window, Tingen slowly receded and shrank in the twilight mist. The iron-gray roofs of Zoutland Street, the cathedral's spire piercing the sky, the brand-new streetlamps of Iron Cross Street, the chimneys puffing light smoke once more... scene after familiar scene slid slowly past the edge of the window, gradually fading into the distance.

In the direction of Chanis Gate, the light of the golden runes had long since faded to a point where it was hard to discern with the naked eye, but in Lu Li's keen spiritual perception, that flickering glimmer of light still beat like a steady heart, eternal and ceaseless.

He withdrew his gaze and slowly leaned back against his chair.

On the luggage rack overhead, the jiaowei sealing box rested securely. The snake emblem and the broken token were stored in separate places, properly sealed.

On the horizon ahead, twilight and steam melded together, and the silhouette of the Fog City, Backlund, loomed indistinctly.

In that vast land shrouded in mist and teeming with secrets, a brand-new journey and game were slowly unfolding for him in the deep night.

Lu Li murmured softly, "Backlund, our story has only just begun!"

(End of Volume One)