Facing an Ancient God for a Year

Chapter 2516: Chapter 2511: Land of the Living Dead Man

Only half an hour remained; this second storm was clearly shorter than the first.

But considering the confidence of the lady at the front desk, Fu Qian judged that the contents of this file were still relatively reliable.

And once it ended, just as he had thought when talking with Selana earlier, it was very likely he wouldn’t be able to find a way back in again anytime soon.

Given this situation, how to use the remaining time naturally required careful planning.

Although in theory, coming back this time to harvest the ”crop” could already be called a great haul.

Not only had he found this Moore within the storm, he had also proved that this place really was related to the Death Overlord.

Even the meaning of the Greedy Worms regarding the Death Overlord’s return had, to some extent, been answered.

As for the minor friction between Yasui and the Siren, and matters concerning Selana and Lord Sorondir, he had also taken the chance to learn a little about them.

The only issue was perhaps the original purpose of this return trip, that is, content related to the Sea of Ashes seemed rather sparse.

There were no traces of the Academy seniors; the storm was confined to Moore and the nearby sea.

Even Lord Sorontir’s plan was limited to the pursuit of Storm Moore; it almost looked like two independent events.

But even so, the phrase ”not a wasted trip” still held up.

In theory, with the little time remaining, he could have simply stayed in that office and perused the information Lord Sorondir had delivered to his doorstep—but it still wasn’t enough.

Had he forgotten the dean’s instructions before he left?

As the fruit of many years of painstaking exploration, could it really be that the Wise Dead had nothing to do with the Sea of Ashes?

Though time was tight, Fu Qian believed he still had a chance to verify it once more.

And why was he this confident?

Simple: on a sunny day, in the Moore of reality, he had also visited that same office, the top floor of that building.

And using the excellent view, he had carefully overlooked the city.

One of the most intuitive conclusions from that was that the office was not the highest point in this city; the summit of Moore lay elsewhere, and getting there by car wouldn’t even take half an hour—that was this place.

At a certain moment, Fu Qian stopped walking and sized up the massive structure before him.

...

It was a very modern building; its style was even more novel than that of the escort agency’s office, and its aura was nothing like that of the slaughterhouse.

And precisely because of that, paired with the unique sense of decay in the Domain of the Dead, the contrast was almost physically unsettling.

Perhaps to avoid being criticized as stupid, big, and crude, the designer had painstakingly added elements of the city’s character inside.

Specifically, the topmost part had an extra lighthouse-shaped spire jutting out.

He had to admit it really was an excellent place to gaze out from; as the saying goes, the higher you stand, the farther you see.

So much so that as Fu Qian climbed the steps, it felt as though he were ascending a single eye at the tip of an antenna—or perhaps it really was a single eye at the tip of an antenna?

Yes, this was the meaning of seeking the highest peak of Moore.

Senses might be limited, but imagination was boundless.

When he left the escort agency office just now, aside from the gains mentioned earlier, there was another thought he’d had from the very beginning that had been faintly confirmed—could the Moore within the storm be alive?

At first glance this sounded redundant; after all, from the start he’d been trying to argue that compared to the Bone Spirit Realm, this place was a living Domain of the Dead.

But this ”alive” was different from that ”alive”; what Fu Qian meant was the literal sense—could the Moore before his eyes be a giant beast?

Perhaps it sounded overly abstract, something that, aside from being a mental game, had no bearing on solving the current problem.

But past experiences instruct the future; he really had seen similar things.

Miracle Creatures.

...

Compared to Corrupted Sword Heart, or Huo, who only existed in dreams of people over fifty-nine, ”Storm Moore” was actually quite concrete.

The reason this association had arisen was in fact a shared feature—Storm Moore only existed in the moments when the storm raged.

Was that not a mode of existence highly dependent on an abstract concept?

In short, ever since the ”old man” mentioned this, Fu Qian had very naturally begun to imagine himself walking inside a colossal creature.

Tall buildings and old houses as bones, crisscrossing roads as veins, this strange beast sprawling along the shore.

It even had metabolism.

A Reflection utterly different from the outside world, yet constantly being updated.

This excessively dynamic process nonetheless proceeded in a very orderly way, showing no signs of collapse due to local contradictions; that alone lent it a strong sense of being something living.

It even reacted swiftly to him, the uninvited intruder.

For instance, that ”Wise Dead.”

If it wasn’t pure coincidence, could it be understood as the city’s welcoming ceremony for him?

One that was even relatively friendly.

Though the old man had tested him in many ways, when it came to sharing information he could be called generous.

Of course, in light of that, he had reciprocated in kind, playing the role of a friendly outsider.

For example, he hadn’t cut the line like Selana had, disrupting the peace and harmony here.

As for what happened after he reached the escort agency office, the behavior of the Greedy Worms was one thing, but those accident reports made everything even more vivid, especially the last one from the lady at the front desk.

A precise weather forecast that had even been delivered to reality before the storm arrived.

Was that a predictive ability, or a description of Storm Moore’s biological clock?

Could this natural disaster that only swept Moore and the surrounding sea be the snoring of a giant beast?

In short, everything was becoming more and more lifelike.

And how to make use of this imagination? Naturally, by sticking to the facts.

Fu Qian had gone over the contours of the whole Moore again and again in his mind, and his conclusion was that it looked nothing like a crouching monster; there was no way to identify anything like a brain or heart.

Since that was the case, he decisively chose the highest point.

Yes, the reasoning was that simple and crude.

If the higher you stand, the farther you see, could the concept of Moore’s highest point make this place the giant beast’s eye?

Since the information currently involved wasn’t enough to support more complex judgments, why not simplify the problem?

Let’s wait and see—

”What are you trying to do? There’s no one here anymore.”

Yet just as he squeezed through the revolving door—which had already stopped spinning—into the building, a voice stopped him on the spot.

”It’s still pretty early, isn’t it?”

He showed no displeasure; he even truly stopped and looked in the direction the voice came from.

Clatter...

First came a string of keys clashing together, then a burly figure slowly sat up from the shadows; at a glance it was as if he’d been slacking off while on the night shift.

”That’s just how Moore is... as long as it looks late, it counts as late.”

The opening line was startlingly familiar; Fu Qian felt he’d already heard the same thing at least three times.

”You’re not a local, are you?”

The other man was clearly observing him as well, though he still hadn’t stood up.

”I really am not... are you?”

Fu Qian nodded.