Ke-style law enforcement officers

Chapter 442 The Funeral
It looks like today is destined to be sunny all day.

Vampires who fear sunlight certainly wouldn't go out for a stroll under the blazing sun, but Milo still wanted to give it a try.

He couldn't wait any longer.

……

Vampires, followers of Engel Kolas, and visionaries.

Milo was waiting for this guy who would kill Grasso.

The method is actually quite simple.

...

On the banks of the canal.

Milo opened one of his palms, and from the jagged cracks on his hand, some ink-like black substance began to gush out from his pores.

These substances seemed to be alive, constantly shifting and changing forms, but they could never escape the control of Milo's hand.

The moment this black substance appeared, the temperature of the surrounding air, which had been warm, began to drop sharply.

The vegetation on the ground began to turn from green to dull, and even withered.

...

This thing comes from Imnal.

That is, the materialized fear that Milo had swallowed earlier.

In one of the ancient texts that Milo had read, there was a record that in a certain civilization, a group of Great Old Ones were imprisoned and sealed away, and the humans of that civilization became messengers of the Old Gods. Their task was to guard the prison of the Great Old Ones. In order to prevent humans from being bewitched by these rulers, humans were given an ability called "fear". This ability allows humans to be vigilant when faced with the temptations of the Great Old Ones.

In short, fear is a mechanism for human self-protection.

Whether the records in the ancient books are true or not is impossible for people today to verify.

Human fears are diverse, and they are not always effective. Sometimes people are completely unaware of real potential threats, but they scream and run around when faced with ugly insects that pose no threat at all.

It seems that the fear abilities of lower-level life forms are not "accurate".

The fear of the Old Ones, who are in a higher sequence, is clear enough.

During the years when Imnar was lost, it encountered beings of a higher level than itself. The fear it felt when faced with that insurmountable class gap is the part that Milo is holding in his hand now.

This comes from the depths of the soul.

It is even more real than flesh and blood.

……

...

The withered plants already demonstrated this simple, materialized fear, and also possessed some of the laws governing Imnar as an Old One.

This is a part that was peeled off from Imnar.

……

After Milo exposed these wriggling black substances to the sunlight.

Everything around was affected to varying degrees.

Strictly speaking, this is more threatening than the heart that was once preserved in the desolate mountains of the town of Ikham. In Ikham, the pilgrims, who were part of the clan, revered that broken heart as sacred.

The fear that Milo holds at this moment also serves to call upon its followers.

Its relatives and its followers.

All those creatures hidden within Nanwei City, defined by the Church as apostles of calamity, now sensed the call of their master.

They can sense that those in positions of authority are being blasphemed and persecuted.

Instinct will drive them to flock here.

...

……

On the cemetery.

The mute old man had just stuffed the two bottles that Milo had brought into the bottom of the box, and then, with a cigarette dangling from his lips, he limped out of his little wooden house.

The wooden house is located on a relatively high elevation on the east side of this cemetery.

So as soon as he steps out the door, he can see the entire hillside on the other side of the canal.

If Milo hadn't given prior notice, he might have mistakenly thought that another funeral procession was at the cemetery today.

Because at that moment, many people dressed in formal attire appeared on the banks of the canal.

Today was a rare good day in Nanwei City, but all these people were holding pure black umbrellas, making them look like a funeral procession at first glance.

...

The old man took a puff of his cigarette, and the thick tobacco smoke passed through his lungs before he exhaled through his mouth and nose.

He seemed to have seen many strange and unusual scenes, and was not at all surprised by the strange crowd gathered on the riverbank. His cloudy eyes remained as calm as ever.

Although he is quite old, the old man's eyesight is still good.

He quickly noticed Milo standing at the foot of the hill.

Those holding black umbrellas had spread out on the hillside, intentionally or unintentionally, all silently watching Milo at the forefront. The atmosphere was eerie and oppressive.

The old man had no idea what would happen next.

Perhaps to be on the safe side, he ultimately couldn't settle down on the stool in front of the door. Instead, he leaned against the wall and returned to his cabin, pulling out the rusty shovel from behind the door.

The wounds inflicted by the wild beast last night weren't serious, but they did slow him down considerably.

The old man dragged the shovel back outside, which took him almost three minutes.

He knew he couldn't really help much, but his subconscious told him that no matter what happened next, the shovel would eventually come in handy. Years of guarding the tombs in this wilderness had given him a special sense of smell that most people didn't possess—a smell of death.

At this moment, the hillside was filled with the aura of death.

……

...

It's probably because the old man's movement speed is indeed too slow.

He felt like he had only been inside for a short while, but when he came back, it seemed like most of the day had passed.

Because the warm sunshine that used to grace the hillside is no longer there.

Along with the sunlight, the figures of people who had been scattered across the hillside like wooden stakes also disappeared.

The old man frowned.

He endured the pain and took several steps forward, trying to check the situation on the hillside ahead.

But the truth is, all the people holding the black umbrellas disappeared, not one was left.

Moreover, even Milo, who was originally standing on the riverbank, has disappeared.

Without a doubt, something must have happened.

But the old man did not show any sign of panic.

He simply sighed softly.

...

However, the next second, Milo's voice came from next to the cabin:
"Wow, you're recovering well. You can swing a shovel again now."

He jokingly lifted his trench coat, revealing a crowbar hanging from his waist, and said to the old man, "It seems we have similar interests."

The old man gave Milo a deep look.

He found no signs of fighting on Milo; although there were a few broken blades of grass stuck to his trench coat, his shirt and tie underneath were still spotless.

Seemingly to confirm his suspicions, the old man looked back at the hillside again.

But everything seemed normal there; the figure holding the black umbrella appeared as if it had never been there at all.

……

Milo strolled into the old man's cabin, rummaged through the drawers and cabinets, and pulled out the two bottles of strong liquor he had just brought over.

Seeing that the old man was still staring in the direction of the hillside, he said:
"No need to look anymore, they're all in that ravine at the very bottom."

As he spoke, he handed the two bottles of wine he was holding to the old man:
"It's a pity the sun has mysteriously hidden again, otherwise we wouldn't need to go through all this trouble. Here's what we'll do: if they don't get direct sunlight before sunset, then you'll have to do the lighting of the fire."

The old man looked puzzled.

But Milo didn't say much, only adding one sentence:
“Strictly speaking, they could be considered nobles, but this is a cemetery for the poor, and there’s no place for them, so they had to be burned. Thank you for your hard work. I’ll see if I can get you a Medal of Mermaid or a Good Citizen Award later.”

After saying all this nonsense, Milo rode away.

The old man stood there for a long time, holding two bottles of strong liquor in one hand and a shovel in the other.

Finally, unable to suppress his doubts, he limped down the hillside.

……

By this time, the sunlight in the sky had been covered by thick clouds, and the wasteland had finally returned to the dark hues familiar to the Nanwei people.

The old man went to great lengths to reach the bottom of the hillside and found the ravine that Milo had pointed out.

Here, he saw piles of corpses.

these people……

No, they shouldn't be human.

All the old man saw were bizarre creatures with hideous faces and sharp fangs in their mouths.

Although they were dressed in formal attire, they did not reek of fresh blood, but rather of a different kind of stench—a thick, nauseating putrid smell.

Furthermore, all of these piled-up corpses had been cut in half at the waist, with perfectly smooth cuts. Even the fabric of their clothes showed no signs of tearing, as if they had been cut with specialized tools in a tailor shop.

The ravine was nestled in the shadow of the hillside, and all these dead, unseeing eyes seemed to be staring at the old man.

……

The old man stood before this eerie and terrifying scene for a long time.

He looked up at the sun in the sky, wondering when it would finally emerge from the clouds again, then looked down at the two bottles of strong liquor in his hand.

...

(End of this chapter)