Chapter 226 - The Umbilical Cord Connected to the Aberrant

The subway slowly came to a stop, and the doors opened simultaneously, stirring up a slight breeze. The people waiting on the platform were already prepared, pushing carts to unload cargo from the train.

To avoid trouble, the Logistics Department and ordinary citizens use the same track, but the platforms they stop at are different. The Logistics Department’s platforms are hidden throughout the city, with personnel stationed to prevent unauthorized access.

According to Marion, there are often reckless individuals who, driven by the idea of exploring urban legends, venture deep into the tunnels, attempting to find these secret platforms.

Most of them are captured and expelled by the Ferrymen. Those who know too much are sent to the Border Sanatorium for minor memory adjustments. Sometimes, the Logistics Department even uses newspaper reports on subway accidents to warn overly curious people that venturing deep into the tunnels is dangerous.

Bologue and Palmer stood on the platform. Amid the bustling crowd, their pace appeared extremely slow.

Along the way, Marion and Bologue chatted. Apparently, this guy holds some crucial position in the Logistics Department, so Marion knew many things that surprised Bologue, such as the events on the stormy night.

"Though it caused us a lot of trouble, you did well."

Marion knew he was responsible for everything. He didn’t look pleased, but he praised himself a little nonetheless.

From Marion’s account, it was clear that the Logistics Department is also responsible for operating all bases, distributing supplies, regulating resources, handling on-site details, and other tedious matters.

It’s fair to say that the Field Staff can operate freely within Opus largely because the Logistics Department cleans up their mess. These people are under great stress, and everyone is extremely irritable, especially when dealing with the Field Staff, with anger almost spilling over.

"The Fourth Group really is mysterious."

Bologue glanced at the goods being transported. Some were covered in black cloth, yet Bologue could still vaguely sense the ether surging beneath. He didn’t know what they were, but they were certainly extraordinary items.

Marion didn’t discuss the Fourth Group in detail. When Bologue probed with his words, Marion changed the topic.

"Everyone working in the Great Rift, you all will meet eventually."

Marion explained this at the end, as if preparing for some surprise that wasn’t yet ready to be revealed.

The two left the station. The station’s exit was concealed beneath a building that appeared to be a warehouse, but no one would suspect there was an underground station below.

Out on the street, the scenery was quite similar to Opus, the only difference being the sky was gloomier and heavier. Looking around, immense cliffs surrounded the area, with a long, winding staircase climbing along the cliffs, reaching towards the surface.

Qiushang Town, the convergence of Opus and the Great Rift. Here, order prevails, evident in the armed patrol officers constantly alert to disturbances from the Wandering Crossroad.

"Do you know about the Fourth Group, Palmer?"

The wind here was strong; Bologue lowered his hat to prevent it from being blown away.

"I don’t know them, I haven’t even seen anyone from the Fourth Group. They seem to have been operating within the Great Rift since their inception."

Palmer shook his head. He knew little about the Fourth Group, which existed only in others’ words, let alone the Desperate Outpost.

"The Field Operations Department has many action groups, such as the Sixth Group led by Yas, which is the Violence Suppression Action Group, and the Seventh Group, mixed with the Crow’s Nest, responsible for external reconnaissance and infiltration, also known as the Invisible Infiltrators. Then there’s the Third Group, formed to handle anomalous Void Realm incidents, known as the Wall-Breaking Blade."

Bologue had heard of these action groups and had greeted a few members at the cafeteria before.

"But I’ve never seen anyone from the Fourth Group."

Bologue glanced towards the distance. Qiushang Town was surrounded by cliffs on three sides, with this direction unobstructed by cliffs, instead an abyssal rift.

"Interested in considering my previous suggestion? Jumping into the Great Rift from here, maybe there’s a group of Fourth Group members waiting to welcome you," Palmer joked.

Bologue shook his head, ignoring his words.

Despite Qiushang Town’s terrible geographic location, it wasn’t much different from any ordinary small town. Streets lined with various shops, and beyond the towering residential buildings, the spire of a church could be seen in the distance.

Compared to the Wandering Crossroad, this place undoubtedly had a livelier atmosphere.

Yet it was so close to the Wandering Crossroad, bordering this rolling Sea of Mist’s enigma.

Bologue had a strange feeling that order and disorder, reason and madness, were layered together and maintained in a delicate balance, just waiting for someone to ignite the fuse.

His gaze inconspicuously swept across the crowd, and suddenly that eerie sensation surged through him. The last time Bologue felt this, it was through Nesanel’s books.

Unlike the initial panic, Bologue quickly adapted to this strange sensation, as if a pair of cold, clammy hands were caressing the back of his neck, with low whispers carried by the wind.

Bologue couldn’t tell if it was a warning or a revelation, but he was sure that something was happening, and he was right in the middle of it.

As the Devil’s deputy, Bologue could see what ordinary people couldn’t, feel what they couldn’t, and that was his connection with the Devil, like the umbilical cord between a child and its mother.

His green eyes slightly trembled as Bologue spotted that unfamiliar yet uncannily familiar figure in the crowd, moving away from him.

Palmer took two steps forward before realizing Bologue hadn’t followed. He turned back only to see Bologue standing there, dazed.

"What’s wrong?"

Palmer walked over, following Bologue’s line of sight, but all he could see was the gloomy street.

"Palmer, have you ever felt like that?" Bologue suddenly started walking toward the crowd, "As if it’s some kind of revelation, or maybe an epiphany... In short, you feel a familiar sensation from nowhere, and it confuses you."

"No, never." Palmer followed Bologue’s pace.

"Then it seems your Devil doesn’t cherish you much, even the umbilical cord between you two is so weak. I can’t tell if you’re lucky or just unlucky."

With that, Bologue started running, sprinting towards the figure that was almost disappearing from sight.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Palmer called out in shock.

He knew his partner could be a bit neurotic, but this reaction was just too much. Bologue was like a stray dog wandering the streets, suddenly seeing a bird and charging right at it without a care.

Bologue was a cautious person. Even before he became a Condenser, he used to enjoy wandering by car in Opus, strolling the streets, and lingering in dark alleys.

He never wore cologne, as it would affect his sense of smell. During his days hunting Demons, Bologue would often discover some Demons hidden among people by wandering around, just like the Demon he beheaded, codenamed "Poison Fang."

At that time, the guy was having lunch in a restaurant, and Bologue happened to walk in. The delicious food couldn’t mask the unique putrid odor on the Demon.

After a brief assessment, Bologue identified Poison Fang, then sat down at his table. Poison Fang appeared very wary of him, clearly reluctant about sharing the table, wanting to leave quickly to avoid complications, but he underestimated the expert’s efficiency.

When lunch arrived, Bologue grabbed a table knife without warning and stabbed it through Poison Fang’s eye socket. Even as a Demon, Poison Fang couldn’t have expected someone to attack in broad daylight, but Bologue didn’t care about such matters.

Amidst the blood and screams, Bologue picked up a plate, bracing it against the knife’s handle, and with a single punch, drove the knife completely into Poison Fang’s skull.

Thus, such a troublesome and cautious Demon died at Bologue’s hand. In fact, it wasn’t until Geoffrey yelled at Bologue later that he learned the Demon’s codename was Poison Fang, that cunning serial killer.

Efficient and deadly, apart from causing a bit of panic and losing a lunch, the expert removed the danger with professional skill, protecting the citizens’ safety.

Bologue ran through the crowd, feeling no difference with his past Demon hunts, only that the guide had changed from the Demon’s putrid smell to this strange umbilical cord.

He still remembered his mission; Debtors were born to work for the Devil. Bologue didn’t want to work for those guys, but sometimes he had to in order to uncover the Devil’s true face.

Even so, Bologue enjoyed it quite a bit, eager to see what the world through the Devil’s eyes looked like, like unraveling all the mysteries from a detective novel.

The figure vanished into the alley, but Bologue had no intention to stop. He reached into his coat, gripping the hammer handle, which was different from an ordinary Sheep Horn Hammer. This was the Sheep Horn Shock Hammer specifically made for him by Belli at his request.

With this hammer, Bologue was confident he could smash the enemy into a bloody pulp.

Palmer struggled to keep up with Bologue. He had no idea what was happening, but he observed all of Bologue’s small actions.

In Palmer’s view, there were only two types of people who would slyly ruffle their coats like that: either a second-hand peddler selling prohibited items, or a killer like Bologue who always hides a weapon underneath his coat.

"Expert, your efficiency is just too high,"

Palmer murmured a complaint, then pulled a black mask from his pocket and put it on his head, following Bologue’s steps and rushing into the alley.

During this time in the Great Rift’s operations, Palmer gradually got used to Bologue’s reactions. He remembered a while back when the two were wandering through the wandering crossroads, Bologue suddenly stopped, sniffed the air like a hound, then decisively swung the hammer to smash open the wall.

Behind the wall was a group of Demons surrounding an unlucky soul, with a pattern of the Condensation Ceremony drawn on the ground, preparing to feast on the unfortunate soul’s spirit.

Palmer was very familiar with the subsequent plot. Like an orthopedic doctor, Bologue treated the Demons’ Bulimia Nervosa. His diagnosis result was euthanasia.

Palmer gradually came to trust the expert’s intuition. Bologue was like the brain of the team. All he needed to do was follow orders and loyally execute them.

The two raced through the twisted alleys, like a dark maze, the heavy scent of blood surged from its depths, expanding with the howling wind, the tang of blood grew thicker.