During those few seconds of falling toward the ground.
Elias clearly saw the object that had flown out of the Gluttonous Stomach into the night sky.
It was an inverted cone-shaped metal hammer.
Its surface was covered in the patina of age and intricate casting textures.
It looked like a metal pendulum component used to strike the bell walls inside some massive, ancient clock.
Currently.
This heavy metal pendulum was defying the laws of gravity.
It hovered in mid-air, radiating dark erosion energy that glowed a murky green.
As if drawn by a magnet.
It drifted straight toward the depths of the cemetery, in the direction of "Dr. Zomboss."
“You... all... must... die!”
Before the pendulum could drift far.
A roar echoed through the air.
The force of it caused the surrounding tombstones to tremble.
Elias keenly caught the details within that roar.
That distorted Landon accent.
There was no mistake.
It was John.
However.
Elias had no time to ponder the mystical implications behind this.
The silhouette of the ground expanded rapidly in his pupils.
Crisis was imminent.
The alchemy puppet clinging to his ankle was carrying a terrifying acceleration, prepared to smash into the mud along with him.
Elias’s brain made the most instinctive tactical decision.
He jerked his waist, tightening his core muscles to the absolute limit.
He forced a difficult mid-air twist while weightless.
At the same time.
His right hand reached for his waist.
He drew the sharp knife he had temporarily tucked into his belt earlier.
The blade cut through the air, trailing a crimson arc.
Using the momentum of the fall, Elias gripped the hilt in a reverse hold.
Blade pointing down.
He stabbed down hard toward the metal spine of the puppet beneath him.
The heavy alchemy puppet slammed into the mud first.
But this thing lacked any of the cushioning movements a human would have.
Its metal knees didn't buckle.
Without even sparing a glance for Elias.
It turned around without hesitation, clutching Finn’s silver greatsword, and prepared to sprint toward the direction where the pendulum had flown.
However.
Elias used the inertia of his own landing.
He drove the sharp knife into the alchemy puppet’s back.
Screeech—
The sound of tearing metal rang out.
This eerie knife, which had absorbed Finn’s blood and spirituality, possessed sharpness beyond imagination.
The hard brass shell was actually forced open with a smooth gash.
Fine arcane sparks hissed out from the crack.
Yet the alchemy puppet didn't even have the desire to counterattack.
Its metal body only staggered slightly from the external force.
Immediately after.
It wrenched itself free from the knife in its back and took off running.
The arcane light in its eyes was locked onto its target in the air.
It left Elias with only the sight of its determined metal back.
“Is this guy’s drive a little too high?”
Elias pulled his hand back, weighing the knife in his palm, and couldn't help but complain.
It didn't even fight back after being stabbed?
At the moment he complained.
Deep in his mind.
The viscous feeling that had been clinging to his senses suddenly vanished like snow under a blazing sun.
The hallucinatory effects of the dream demon curse finally faded at this moment.
The cartoon filter on his retinas shattered into pieces like glass.
In the darkness in the distance.
Where was the comical "Dr. Zomboss"?
It was clearly a disgusting mountain of flesh stitched together from countless broken corpses, shredded meat, and even internal organs!
Over a dozen arms from different deceased individuals flailed wildly on this mountain of flesh.
How damn appetizing!
“It’s a puppet, after all. It’s normal for it to follow orders,” Old Ed’s raspy voice spoke up in his mind at the right time.
He provided the answer to Elias’s confusion regarding the alchemy puppet.
In that hunk of iron’s base code, there was surely a hard-coded command to prioritize seizing the containment object.
All obstacles could be ignored.
However.
What came next would be truly difficult to handle.
“By the way...”
He gripped the knife, his brow furrowed tight.
“Why is John still alive?”
He could even rise as a corpse after a failed possession?
“Didn't your colleague just say it?” Old Ed asked unhurriedly in his mind.
“Your understanding of that containment object is too shallow.”
“I suspect John’s survival is mainly related to the properties of that pendulum containment object.”
Old Ed analyzed it step by step.
“Didn't he say himself that he turned into a spiritual body because of the side effects of this containment object in the stomach?”
With such eerie items involving the soul, rules could never be judged by common sense.
“Actually, if you think about it, it’s quite normal.”
“According to his original death, the moment he became a spiritual body, he shouldn't have retained any consciousness.”
“Yet, he became a spiritual body capable of normal communication and even plotting possession.”
Old Ed’s tone became certain.
“This pendulum containment object played a major role.”
“The most likely scenario is that when the object was activated, it absorbed part of his residual obsession.”
“This residual obsession eventually resonated with his corpse.”
“The monster in there now is a product of that containment object.”
Elias stood rooted to the spot, stunned.
“It can do that?!”
His eyes widened.
“The problem is I used radiance bullets!” Elias emphasized.
“His soul was burned to nothing by the holy energy.”
“How can there be resonance?”
“Spiritual residue,” the old man uttered two words.
Even if the soul was incinerated.
The faint fluctuations that previously remained in the air and on the pendulum had not completely dissipated.
“If I’m not mistaken, this pendulum itself possesses the properties of a vessel capable of storing spirituality and dark erosion energy.”
“In the end, all it needs is a bit of obsession.”
“Even just a sliver of unwilling obsession.”
“It’s enough to satisfy all the conditions to awaken a corpse.”
“What a load of bullshit!” Elias couldn't help but curse.
He stood among the muddy tombstones.
The night wind blew past, carrying a chill laced with the scent of blood.
He couldn't decide whether to stay or go.
He was caught in a dilemma.
If he left.
That containment object would fall right into the hands of Wayland Capital.
And as could be seen from the chaotic situation tonight.
Wayland Capital clearly had a deep cooperative relationship with the Mist Veil Society cult.
They had even joined forces to clear out the Life Scholars of Lily of the Valley Convent.
But the problem was.
If they were partners.
Why did the Mist Veil Society previously go to such lengths to have that dead man, Firth, infiltrate Wayland Shipping?
The internal conflicts of interest were a tangled mess.
Riddles came one after another, pulling him deeper and deeper.
This pool was so murky he couldn't see the bottom.
However.
If he didn't leave.
Remaining here meant he would have to go toe-to-toe with that mountain of flesh and the alchemy puppet.
Given he was alone now and had sustained some bruises.
More importantly, without an elemental gun, his firepower was seriously lacking!
How was this any different from suicide?
He didn't want to die here for no reason and become part of that mountain of flesh.
“I’m leaving!”
Elias gritted his teeth and suddenly made up his mind.
To hell with saving the world, and to hell with solving mysteries.
His life was most important.
His losses tonight were quite severe.
Digging in this gloomy graveyard in the middle of the night.
The original plan was to get more practical information from John about lifting the dream demon curse.
Now it seemed.
The intel was cut off, John had become a monster, and the containment object had flown away.
It was all down the drain!
He’d lost his shirt on this one.
However.
Elias comforted himself in his heart.
It was fine.
Only by staying alive would he have a chance to find a way to break the curse.
Even seeing this absurd world through the curse was better than lying in a coffin.
If he died, there would truly be no chance at all!
With his mind made up.
He immediately mobilized the remaining spirituality in his body.
Maintaining the continuous coverage of the Moonlight Veil, he perfectly blended his form and presence into the cold night.
He turned to leave.
He intended to depart from this place of trouble.
His feet stepped on the soft soil as he quietly moved toward the cemetery exit.
He avoided the shattered tombstones and corpses along the way.
But when he passed the broken cover of the underground entrance.
He stopped.
Looking at the blood-covered Seventh Agency investigators hiding behind the cover.
He suddenly remembered.
He couldn't just leave the imprinting charm Ms. Cecil gave him behind.
He had to take it back.
So Elias directly channeled his spirituality to connect to the Mental Channel.
“Guys, how about we leave first?” Elias advised.
“That monster clearly isn't something we can handle.”
“Otherwise, we’re all going to end up staying in this graveyard forever!”
Behind the cover.
The Scale Two investigator in the lead spoke in a calm and resolute tone.
“We won't be leaving.”
There was no hesitation in those few words.
“I didn't know Ms. Cecil had such a powerful informant under her.”
His voice carried a hint of exhaustion, but also a hint of respect.
“Although I can tell your identity is complex.”
Someone who could move with such ease under this kind of encirclement.
Could never be a simple informant.
“However.”
“Thank you for your effort, and thank you for saving our lives just now.”
“Leave the rest to us at the Seventh Agency.”
He glanced at his heavily injured teammates and gripped his weapon.
“Ms. Cecil and the others received the signal; reinforcements should arrive soon.”
Hearing this almost suicidal, tragic speech.
Elias suggested with some irritation.
“What I mean is, I’m saying we retreat from the cemetery first.”
“Can't we pull back to the perimeter and wait for reinforcements in a safe place?!”
“No.”
The other man decisively cut off Elias’s persuasion.
His gaze moved past the cover.
He looked toward the massive mountain of flesh rampaging in the distance, and the faintly visible city skyline.
Beneath that skyline were countless civilians immersed in the holiday festivities.
“In the end...”
“We must ensure that the filth in this cemetery...”
“Does not spread to the people outside.”
“See you again, sir.”
Rate on N.U.
