Chapter 4216

"Why do I feel like this area is spreading?" the agent frowned, looking at his arm. He believed this was not his imagination. When he was first cursed, this black area was about the size of a fist, but now it had spread to his entire upper arm. The cursed area had no pain, but the muscles seemed unable to be engaged, which caused the agent's entire left hand to be somewhat unable to be lifted.

The Hunter was also checking the wound on his abdomen; this did not seem to involve any occult power, just a simple stabbing. Fortunately, it didn't damage any organs, but the gash was two or three centimeters deep, and now it urgently needed to be sutured.

He turned his head and glanced out the window; the night was already very deep, and the entire town was very quiet; they didn't seem to have any nightlife. The Hunter looked up at the clock in the room; it was exactly 9:43.

"Going out to explore at night is not a good idea," he said. "There must be something very dangerous in this town. Let's wait until the next day."

The agent, however, disagreed with his view, saying, "Although we already know that if we don't act according to the 'character persona,' we might encounter various accidents. But as long as we don't go overboard, just walking around should be fine. At least we have to get some needle and thread to suture the wound."

Saying this, the agent walked to the door and listened to the movement outside. It was still very quiet, not even the sound of wind. Through the crack in the door, one could see a very faint light; it seemed to be the candles in the living room that hadn't been extinguished yet.

"There are traces of needle and thread mending on Aunt Kane's clothes; there must be needle and thread in this house. Going downstairs makes too much noise; I'll go to her room and take a look first."

The Hunter didn't speak, just watched the agent pick up his gun and go out. The second-floor corridor was pitch black, but fortunately, there was still a candle lit in the living room; although the light was very faint, it illuminated the railing at the atrium, allowing one to distinguish the direction.

The agent was like a shadow in the night, making no sound as he moved forward. He arrived silently at Aunt Kane's door, crouched at the entrance, and pressed his ear against the door.

The breathing was very weak, but the frequency was normal; Aunt Kane seemed to be fast asleep. She hadn't opened the window, so there was no sound of wind. Judging from the light coming through the crack in the door, it seemed the curtains were drawn, and there wasn't even a sliver of moonlight.

The agent gently turned the doorknob; the door was indeed unlocked. But this door was a bit old, and it inevitably made a faint sound when pushed open. Fortunately, Aunt Kane was sleeping very soundly, and this didn't wake her, which made the agent breathe a sigh of relief.

Just as he was about to go in, he suddenly felt a slight tremor in the floorboards beneath his feet. This tremor was very regular; it should be someone approaching.

The agent immediately pulled out his gun, lowered his body, crouched at the door, and looked in that direction. There was a figure approaching from the atrium, but the light was too faint to see who it was.

The agent held his breath, aiming the muzzle in that direction. But the other party suddenly stopped. The agent continued to focus his attention, and then felt the floorboards beneath his feet begin to vibrate rhythmically; the other party seemed to be tapping the floor with their toes.

Soon he read it; the other party was sending him a message using the simplest Morse code. The spelled-out word was also very simple—"Peter."

The agent remembered that Peter's forehead was also injured. That wound wasn't shallow, and he probably needed sutures too. However, using ordinary needle and thread to suture a wound in that area was too difficult. The other party might have come to look for other medicine.

After sending the message, Peter approached very slowly, just in time to see the agent tucking his gun back into his jacket. Then he made a gesture and asked, "Are you going in too?"

The agent nodded. The two looked into the crack of the door together. Aunt Kane was sleeping soundly with her back to the door. After entering, there was another door on the right, which should be the bathroom. Strangely, there was a faint light in the bathroom; I don't know if the light was forgotten to be turned off.

The agent wasn't sure if the needle and thread were in Aunt Kane's bedroom; he had just come over to try his luck. It seemed Peter was the same, feeling that going downstairs was too risky, and just came over to take a look.

But soon the agent overturned his speculation. Because from the crack in the door, he could see a black shadow suddenly appear on the balcony, agile and quick, flipping into the room without a single sound, like a nimble black cat.

By the faint light, the agent saw that it was Kate, who had been sporting a big belly during the day. Of course, they had long seen that Kate wasn't pregnant; her disguise was fine for fooling ordinary people, but it was far from enough to fool this group of professionals. But she didn't seem to intend to disguise seriously either, not even using professional props, just using a pillow to fool things.

The agent was actually very curious why they were faking pregnancy. Now it seemed that this didn't fit their character persona, but was due to some external reasons. Because they had also been attacked.

When Peter was driving before, something went wrong for no reason; it was very likely for the same reason as the agent and the Hunter, which was that they had done something that didn't fit their persona, leading to health loss. But whether this matter was faking pregnancy was not yet very clear.

And the Batman and Superman who arrived later didn't seem surprised by their car accident. Maybe they had definitely done something too and had been punished.

But thinking about it, when they entered this instance, no rules were mentioned at all; no one knew what the health bar above their heads was for, so naturally, they would want to use unconventional ways to clear it. How could they know what not to do without suffering a loss?

So they tacitly didn't ask Peter why he flipped the car. Regardless of the reason, they certainly couldn't resist now, and there was no need to ask more to lower their own sanity.

Kate was seen rummaging through the room with agile hands and feet. This Batwoman was also an old hand; her movements were very nimble when rummaging through the cabinets, and there wasn't a single sound.

Until she pushed open the bathroom door, the agent heard a very shallow intake of breath.

Both were very curious about what Kate had seen, but this bedroom wasn't large, and if another outsider went in, it would be easy to make a sound. Neither of them was confident in coordinating with this Kate, so they both chose to stay outside the door.

Kate chose to return the way she came, leaving directly from the balcony. The agent originally wanted to go in and take a look, but at this moment, Aunt Kane turned over, her breathing became significantly more rapid, and she looked like she was about to wake up. So the two at the door could only rush back.

After returning to the room, the agent sighed. The Hunter was already lying on the bed asleep. The agent was just about to lie down when he felt something was wrong. He sat up again and touched the Hunter's forehead. Very good, he had a fever.

This instance was really terrifyingly realistic. It was just a stab wound in the abdomen, and it didn't even damage any organs, so must he have a fever at night?

Although he thought this, the agent also knew how dangerous this situation was. Infection could be fatal. Now they had two choices: first, continue to explore the house to see if they could find medicine; if there were any antibiotics, they should be able to pull through; second, make a big scene and send him directly to the town hospital.

The agent thought carefully and felt that he couldn't choose the second one. Because they really couldn't explain how this wound happened. After all, they said they were here for a vacation and had agreed to the request to stay, but suddenly such a serious wound appeared; anyone would know there was a problem. It wouldn't be good to arouse the suspicion of the plot characters.

The agent thought carefully about what he had seen and heard in the house during the day. If he had to say where there might be medicine, it could only be the living room on the first floor. There were quite a few things under the coffee table in the living room; there might be medicine there.

So he went out again and came to the stairs to look down. These stairs were really too old; it was impossible for anyone to go down the stairs without making a sound. The agent sighed and carefully felt his way down.

The creaking sound of the old stairs was particularly harsh in the quiet night. But the agent couldn't care about that much; he rushed downstairs at the fastest speed and began to rummage.

In the quiet house, besides the agent's breathing, there was only the slight "tick" of the clock's hands. Fortunately, the candle holder in the living room hadn't gone out, and there was still some light. The agent rummaged for a long time and finally found two bottles of pills; one was a painkiller, and the other was a fever reducer.

He didn't dare to take too much, just two pills of each. Fortunately, both types of medicine were in large bottles, and it wouldn't be noticeable if two were missing.

Just as he was walking back, the grandfather clock in the living room "clanged" once. The agent instantly broke out in a cold sweat. He turned his head sharply to look and found that the clock's hands were pointing at ten o'clock.

The uneasy premonition in his heart grew stronger; the agent didn't hesitate and ran back to the room at full speed, taking advantage of the sound of the clock striking. After closing the door, he breathed a sigh of relief, but then he became surprised. Whose clock strikes at ten o'clock?

Having stayed here for so long before, he was certain that this clock didn't strike on the hour. It hadn't struck once on the previous hours, so why did it strike at ten o'clock?

Even if it were that kind of half-day striking clock, it should strike at 6 and 12. What the hell is striking at ten in the middle of the night?

This must be foreshadowing something. But now there was no time to investigate. The agent woke the Hunter up, fed him a fever reducer, and then the two fell asleep together. They woke up as soon as the next day dawned.

The Hunter's fever had broken, but he was still somewhat weak, and the condition of the wound was not optimistic. The agent decided to find an excuse to go to the hospital when they went out to wander around today.

However, someone was more anxious than them. When the two of them went downstairs, they heard Kate saying downstairs: "Peter's wound is very troublesome and must be treated professionally. We'll drive to the hospital in a while..."

"No!!!" Aunt Kane's sharp voice came from downstairs. "Are you crazy?! Katherine, you are absolutely crazy!! If it weren't for the fact that you are pregnant, I would never let a lunatic like you come back!"

Not only Kate, but the agent was also somewhat confused. Peter's injury was open and aboveboard and didn't need to be covered up, and it was only natural to go to the hospital if the wound worsened. What kind of reaction was this from Aunt Kane?

"Aunt," Kate was obviously also very dissatisfied, and she said, "Peter is sick; he must see a doctor. We'll leave in a while!"

But at this time, Aunt Kane seemed to have suddenly remembered something, changing from her previous angry appearance to saying somewhat gloomily: "Then you go. See if that idiot can get treatment. If he dies, you'll be a widow. Just like me."

The agent rolled his eyes; they had obtained another key piece of information: Aunt Kane was a widow, and her husband was already dead. It was just unknown when he died and how he died.

At this time, Peter walked downstairs and comforted Kate, saying: "Don't be too angry, dear. I just have a low fever; if there's fever-reducing medicine, it'll be fine."

"No!" Aunt Kane said even more sharply. "It would be better if you died of illness! That way my crazy niece will be normal! Both of you get out of here!"

The agent narrowed his eyes.