Chapter 89: Inner World Echoes (Fourth Update, Daily 10k Achieved, Requesting First Subscription!)

According to the regions marked on the map, the area around the small dock should also contain an inner world.

While collecting mail, Wu Chang casually observed the surroundings of the small dock, searching for anything suspicious.

Compared to the Briver Port at the island's other end, the small dock was far quieter.

This place had once been where islanders went out to fish; according to the restaurant owner, a special kind of yellow fish once lived near the small dock, its meat delicious and beloved by locals.

But with the arrival of steamships, the yellow fish, frightened by the noise, migrated en masse far away from Briver Island.

The area around the small dock is littered with reefs; only experienced old fishermen can navigate small wooden boats through the dock's range, making access and egress far less convenient than at Briver Port.

After losing its only specialty—the yellow fish—it nearly lost all utility and gradually fell into disuse.

Today, the small dock has become a fishing spot for retired old men.

Elderly townsfolk who enjoy quiet sometimes bring fishing rods to the small dock, hoping to catch one or two lost yellow fish, seeking the taste of childhood.

But most of the time they catch nothing; they often sit by their rods for half a day without even catching a single ordinary sea fish, finally resorting to picking up oysters and sea snails along the dock and tossing them into buckets, comforting themselves with the illusion of some harvest.

How could Wu Chang, who had only entered the instance for two or three days, know this? Ha—the oysters and sea snails at the town's restaurant came from here.

Wu Chang walked along the coastline for a while but found nothing suspicious.

Not a single statue characteristic of the inner world, let alone any decent intact building, could be seen.

He didn't find any special entities, but he did spot one special person.

Just as he was about to turn back and ask the town's elders for information, he saw a gloomy, artistic man painting toward the sea on a nearby reef.

This guy hadn't died after all.

When they first entered the instance, everyone's attention was on the Ironclad Trio and Xiang Jianxing; only the gloomy artistic man ignored them, instead constantly clinging to Wu Chang's True Self.

Like Wu Chang's True Self, the gloomy artistic man vanished after the instance began, and Wu Chang and the others never saw him in town again.

Not just them—even the townsfolk rarely mentioned him.

Linghu and the others speculated he, like Han Shi, had disappeared somewhere in the instance, but Wu Chang always felt he wasn't that simple.

The truth proved him right.

Even Xiang Jianxing, to complete the instance, had been worn down and even ended up in jail while gathering intelligence.

In contrast, the gloomy artistic man showed no signs of distress; he had the leisure to paint by the sea, proving he was indeed extraordinary.

Wu Chang approached the reef where the artistic man sat and observed his painting from behind.

The artistic man lived up to his persona—his depiction of the ocean nearly perfectly replicated the sea before them, yet with more dreamlike and bold details and color choices.

It was as if he'd applied a beauty filter to nature, turning a dull, desolate coastline into something that looked like an internet-famous check-in spot.

As he finished the final touches on the painting, the artistic man asked: "What do you think?"

"Very strong. If you opened an account on Pipa Pipa, you'd get at least fifty thousand followers," Wu Chang praised.

The artistic man shook his head. "I tried. The bullet-comment teachers and review teachers are too strict. My level on Pipa is barely 'still needs practice.'"

Wu Chang smiled—he hadn't expected the artistic man to be so humorous.

After finishing the last stroke of blue sky, Wu Chang thought the painting was done, but the artistic man turned and mixed a dark, gloomy tone.

He dipped his brush in paint and made several rough strokes across the canvas.

In the blink of an eye, the bright, clear sea surface turned dark and eerie.

The contrast between the two versions of the painting was like two entirely different works.

"Is this more appropriate?"

Wu Chang shook his head. "I prefer your earlier style."

The artistic man said noncommittally: "Everything has two sides—sunshine and shadow. As an artist, you must see all facets of your subject and, on a single sheet of paper, reveal its inner conflicts, then add a touch of your own creation."

Wu Chang smirked but said nothing.

The artistic man put down his brush and asked pointedly: "Councilor Xiao En, do you have another side?"

Wu Chang remained expressionless. "I've always been consistent inside and out."

The artistic man smiled faintly. "I do—and not just one side. Like the sea, sometimes cloudy, sometimes clear. But all my selves serve one goal: the most dazzling art."

"This town is a good place. Do your best. I'd like to see something more exciting."

With that, the artistic man abandoned his easel, brushes, and paints scattered on the ground, and turned to leave.

Wu Chang frowned deeply, took a long breath—will these cryptic bastards never end? You think you're clever now, but wait—I'll make you fly when the chance comes.

Back in town, while delivering mail, he checked the status of the players.

Another person had gone missing.

At lunch in the restaurant, the owner told him the assistant from Dongyang City had died.

According to the restaurant owner, the man died naturally—from food poisoning, gastric perforation leading to excessive bleeding.

Gastric perforation leading to excessive bleeding—he'd never heard of such a cause of death before.

But given the precedents of the former postman and former journalist, a "natural death" from gastric perforation on Briver Island was surely not a pretty sight.

It seemed the poor soul who entered the inner world last night was him.

He offered a brief one-second silent tribute to the Dongyang assistant, then turned his attention to the upcoming prayer.

Linghu had said the evening prayer at the cathedral would be led by the Tanzhu Sect's bishop.

The bishop is a hermit monk who cultivates his spirit by renouncing desires and shutting off his senses, thereby communicating with the divine.

The bishop sews his eyes shut with iron wire to discard his physical sight and perceive the divine with his inner eye.

The bishop has minimal desire for material things, spending his days secluded in isolation—even on Divine Grace Day, when the golden flying fish appear, he never leaves the cathedral.

He only presides over prayers during major events, to bless the townsfolk.

During their time in Briver Town, only Linghu had caught a distant glimpse of the bishop.

Seizing this opportunity, Wu Chang intended to probe the bishop's nature—to see if he, like Mati, was a vessel for a divine emissary.

At 6:30 p. m., Wu Chang controlled his True Self, transforming the superhero's spandex into a cloak, and blended into the crowd entering the cathedral.

The True Self inherited the good and evil values of Wu Chang's main body, so the surrounding townsfolk found his presence completely natural, not noticing anything unusual about a stranger in a black robe suddenly appearing among the crowd.

In the cathedral's prayer hall, facing the congregation, was an enormous glazed-tile mural.

The Great Mother depicted in the mural spread her arms wide, like a loving mother embracing her children who had come home.

The light of dusk passed through the glazed mural, its heavy shadows lending the kind, gentle Great Mother a touch of sorrow.

He could not tell whether she was grieving for herself, or for the mortals beneath her feet.

As the sun fully set behind Luoshan, oil lamps and torches were lit inside the church, and a bishop clad in a white bishop's robe slowly appeared.

The bishop was thin and wasted; his restraint over appetite had driven his body fat to an extreme low, with little muscle hanging off a broad frame, making his body look even more frail.

He was only forty-seven this year, yet his wrinkled face and nearly all-white hair made him look like a man of seventy-four.

Thorn-like black iron wire was threaded through both his upper and lower eyelids, sewing his eyes completely shut. Only with a nun supporting him and guiding his steps could he move about inside the church.

The bishop stood before the congregation and began that night's prayer.

His voice was aged, deep, and richly narrative, with a well-judged rhythm and pacing that made it easy for listeners to become immersed.

An hour and a half of prayer slipped by in a flash. As the prayer ended, the townsfolk, as though granted the gods' forgiveness and reconciled with their inner anxieties, left the great cathedral with faces full of peace.

Everyone except Wu Chang.

He shifted into spirit-form and followed behind the bishop, all the way to the bishop's private chambers.

He could sense that, during the prayer's confession segment, the bishop's intent to confess was far stronger than that of any townsfolk.

That feeling was not put on; only someone who had truly done something unspeakably shameful could confess with such heartfelt sincerity.

He wanted to know what the bishop was confessing.

So he planned to treat the bishop the same way he had treated Professor Ebert — apply a little pressure to his spirit, and let the bishop do some self-reflection.

His spirit-form pointed a finger at the bishop, and Bane activated.

"The sum of the target's Inspiration and Will attributes is less than 20% of the sum of the user's two attributes. Effects triggered: 'Plague-Bearer,' 'Summon Calamity,' 'Descend Bane.'"

"Because the sum of the target's Inspiration and Will attributes is too low, a special status is triggered: Reverberation of the Mind."

As the prompt sounded, the bishop's whole body convulsed. His face went terrified, as though he had sensed some enormous danger, and he tried to open his eyes to see what was before him.

Disregarding the iron wire sewing his eyelids shut, heedless of tearing his eyelids open, he strained with all his might to wrench his eyes apart, revealing two hollow eye sockets filled with blood and tears.

The two sockets were like two bottomless whirlpools; Wu Chang's spirit-form glanced at them only once and was sucked straight in.

Fourth watch complete, 11,000+ characters in total. Thanks to all the good brothers for the tips, monthly tickets, and first subscription support (End of Chapter)