Even from across the room, Shard could feel the danger emanating from the object held by the young man. It was as if the box didn’t belong in this world, carrying an aura that could make everything decay. This was a [Relic], and Shard believed he’d never mistake it again after this encounter.
The doctor continued to survey the room and spoke:
“[Relics] can be tangible objects, but they can also be events, information, or even just a phrase. The True God Church has classified [Relics] into levels, which have been accepted and recognized by the academy. There are five levels in total—
Poet-level (Level 5), where the information can be sung by poets but is considered mere rumors or legendary stories, with the reference standard being [The Poet Cohen’s Manuscript];
Scribe-level (Level 4), where detailed records of such [Relics] are required to be archived, and the information should exist only on paper and not be easily disseminated, with the reference standard being [The Unknown Man’s Thesis];
Secrecy-level (Level 3), where specially trained individuals keep the [Relic]’s information secret, and such items must be contained and used with extreme caution, with the reference standard being [The Eye of the Secrecy-Man];
Sage-level (Level 2), where only great sages can know its information and containment status. Once such an uncontained item is discovered, the academy and the True God Church must immediately notify each other according to the agreement, with the reference standard being [The Philosopher’s Stone];
Angel-level (Level 1), extremely dangerous, with events of an evil god’s descent being regarded as equal to an uncontrolled Angel-level [Relic]. I am just a fifth-year correspondence student, and it’s only in the next grade that I will learn the characteristics and containment methods of such items, with the reference standard being [The Heart of the Fallen Angel].”
“What is the reference standard?” Shard asked.
“The reference standard is the benchmark for classifying a [Relic]. If its danger level exceeds that of the reference standard, it immediately moves to the next level.”
Shard nodded in understanding, but given that even at the highest Angel-level, there was a reference standard, it seemed to suggest—
He didn’t ask further, likely because Doctor Schneider also wouldn’t know.
He then softly asked, holding his breath, causing his voice to sound somewhat muffled:
“So, what we are dealing with this time is?”
“A Poet-level (Level 5) [Relic], I have already found out, is the [Life Countdown Pocket Watch].
Yes, that thing in the box over there, he didn’t dare touch it directly. It requires flesh and blood, allowing the holder to rotate it within a certain range. Point the front of the watch at any life form, based on the rotational angle, it adds a life countdown status to the targeted life form. The shorter the countdown, the more flesh and blood required. That’s why Sparrow Hamilton had such a long time,” the doctor explained.
Doctor Schneider had Shard wait at the entrance while he stepped into the room, trudging through the bloody muck on the floor to retrieve the box containing the [Relic]. When he returned to Shard’s side, he opened the box, cautioning Shard to focus and not be affected by the [Relic]’s power.
With a flick of the hand, the box opened, and an even stronger scent of blood filled the air. Inside, the box contained a pool of blood.
After pouring out the blood, a silver pocket watch fell into Doctor Schneider’s hand.
The doctor didn’t open the watch cover, so Shard could only see the grotesque skulls etched on both the front and back of the watch. There was a ring of runic text around the watch cover that Shard had never seen before, but once again, he was able to decipher it, confirming his ability to understand all written texts in this foreign world:
“The price of life is the secret of flesh and blood.”
At that moment, he could strangely taste blood in his mouth, as if he had just bitten into raw meat. Shard began retching involuntarily, but since he hadn’t had breakfast, nothing came out. The doctor promptly put the watch back into the box and stored it in his carry-along suitcase.
“This is what killed Detective Sparrow?” Shard muttered to himself after calming down. After all, the detective had taken him from a vagrant’s life and bequeathed all his inheritance; Shard was glad to avenge him.
“Yes, this is it. People in the countdown status know their life expectancy but cannot disclose it to anyone, or they will die instantly. This [Relic], born from the Fifth Epoch, although dangerous to ordinary people, can be countered by many ways among ring warlocks, so it’s only the lowest Poet-level.
The life countdown effect is restrained by many [Miracles] and [Enlightenments], so its danger level is not high—just an ordinary Poet-level [Relic]. Unfortunately, Mr. Sparrow Hamilton was just an ordinary person.”
Doctor Schneider shook his head in regret:
“In fact, I had been tracking this [Relic] for months, so I could understand your situation in just one night. But there were too many victims. Although I saved a few, I ultimately couldn’t save Detective Sparrow Hamilton in time. He seemed to have passed away on the morning we met—it’s truly a pity.”
The subsequent events were straightforward. The two searched nearby rooms, and the psychiatrist dispelled the illusion brought by the Poet-level [Relic] using ring warlock methods, finding all piles of corpse remnants and confirming they had found the right culprit.
After Shard refused to kill, the doctor directly killed Byrd Morod in a dream, a process that took only a second in Shard’s eyes.
Having done this, they left together. Upon visiting Shard that morning, Doctor Schneider had already written an anonymous letter, which was delivered to the Tobesque City Police Department via special channels by noon. Soon, the police would find this place, drawing the True God Church’s attention.
“This area falls under the jurisdiction of the Church of the Sun God. They act quickly, so we have to leave swiftly.”
The doctor made a joke as they boarded the waiting carriage, but Shard wasn’t in the mood for talking. Although the outsider had no attachments here, witnessing such a bloody scene naturally made him uncomfortable.
This made him deeply aware of the world’s cruelty and strangeness.
They returned together to the city and dined at a goose restaurant in Tobesque City’s East District. Of course, the doctor treated them. Shard ate little, still haunted by the scenes he saw on the second floor of the sanatorium.
They then went to the doctor’s psychiatric clinic located on Lenken Avenue in the East District of Tobesque, a wealthy area. While not as bustling as St. Duran Square in the city center, the neighborhood was very pleasant.
Bill Schneider’s psychiatric clinic was flanked by an antique shop and a high-end tobacco store. The clinic occupied three floors, with the first two being the clinic itself and the third being the doctor’s residence.
The clinic was quite large, employing five doctors besides Bill Schneider himself, as well as receptionists, cleaners, and a tea lady, presenting a very professional image.
Doctor Schneider invited Shard to rest in his second-floor reception room, the same one used for important patients. The conversation continued when the servant brought tea.
Compared to a reception room, it felt more like a study, with curved walls lined with dark brown bookshelves filled with leather-bound books. A grand desk stood on a red carpet; even the pens on the pen rack hinted at the owner’s wealth.
The combination of sofa and coffee table wasn’t as formal as those in the detective agency, but the family-style tea set helped visitors relax and share their troubles and secrets.
“How do you feel about this trip?”
The doctor casually leaned back on the single leather sofa, right hand propped on the armrest, fingers touching his chin.
Shard sat on a fabric long sofa, typically used by Doctor Schneider’s “patients.”
“Thank you very much.”
“For helping you resolve a hidden danger?”
“Yes,” Shard said, his worries not lessened.
This trip was solely for avenging Detective Sparrow, indicating that his death was due to a detective commission and not related to the tasks he handed over to Shard. In other words, Shard still didn’t know what secrets Sparrow Hamilton had.
The current guess was that Sparrow Hamilton had a mysterious identity beyond being a detective but encountered an unexpected detective-related event, necessitating someone to temporarily replace him. However, this secret identity likely had nothing to do with the supernatural; otherwise, the detective wouldn’t have known about his impending death without a means of self-rescue.
Of course, there was no need to explain this to Bill Schneider. Though the morning’s trip had made Shard largely trust him, he still hadn’t dropped all his guard completely.