Ashes Of Deep Sea-Chapter 350 - 354 Infiltrators

Chapter 350: Chapter 354 Infiltrators

Chapter 350 -354 Infiltrators

Nemo Wilkins suddenly felt a slight dizziness, as if some invisible force had brushed across his mind, or as if he had abruptly awakened from a bizarre, light sleep. In the belated alertness, he suddenly lifted his head, looking toward the always genial, seemingly harmless old gentleman with a trace of tension and vigilance.

Moris returned a friendly and polite smile to this “thread informant.”

However, Nemo abruptly broke into a cold sweat; it was only now that he remembered, since entering the secret passage, the old man’s gaze had almost constantly lingered on him, a force as if scouring his mind, rifling through his memories, enshrouding his very thoughts. He had been unconsciously answering every question posed by these unwelcome guests, almost even exposing the situation of other contact points within the City-State!

Even if these uninvited guests held Captain Tirian’s token, knew the secret signals, he should not have been so careless! After all, these people had appeared out of nowhere today; according to the rules, he should have probed them more!

The rapid change of expression on the “thread informant”‘s face certainly didn’t escape Fenna’s eyes. She stepped forward, her expression solemn yet sincere, “Mr. Wilkins, relax a bit, we are not enemies—we carry tokens and passwords that indeed come from Mr. Tirian, but due to necessary safety measures, we had to conduct some tests on you.”

“Tests… what kinds of tests?” Nemo looked at the people before him with wariness, “What… exactly is your origin?”

“Simply put, we suspect that a cognitive pollution phenomenon, with an extremely large coverage area, has begun to spread in the City-State. This pollution causes people to unconsciously develop false memories, lose accurate recognition of the real world, and even unknowingly become accomplices to Heretics. We couldn’t be sure whether the line people Mr. Tirian left in the city were still reliable, so we had to conduct tests,” explained Fenna seriously, then swiftly changed the topic, “As for our origins… didn’t you receive a message from Mr. Tirian?”

“The captain didn’t explain in detail; he just said they were a few trustworthy people,” Nemo cautiously replied, “Forgive my doubts—he wouldn’t arrange something this baffling usually.”

Moris thought for a moment, then understanding dawned on him, and he looked toward Duncan, “Oh, perhaps it’s because he didn’t have your explicit permission, he didn’t dare reveal our identities.”

Permission? Captain Tirian didn’t dare to reveal identities?

Listening to Moris’ words, Nemo’s expression became strangely awkward in an instant; he subconsciously looked toward the bizarre man swathed in bandages and black clothing, clearly wanting to ask something but unsure where to begin.

Duncan, for his part, didn’t think too much about it and simply nodded lightly, “Since we’ve confirmed that this ‘line person’ gentleman is problem-free, there’s no need to conceal anything.”

With that, he gazed at Nemo and pointed to himself, “I am Tirian’s father.”

The man known as Nemo Wilkins, a Mist Shadow Agent, froze for a few seconds, then something seemed to snap in his mind, his eyes suddenly bulged, “Do not insult the captain!”

Duncan: “…”

The atmosphere on the scene turned a bit awkward for a moment, Fenna and Moris couldn’t help but press their hands to their foreheads, only Alice looked around confused, not quite catching on, and said to the ‘line person’ gentleman with earnest, “It’s true.”

Nemo clearly still wanted to speak, but this time before he could even open his mouth, Moris suddenly stepped forward and patted his shoulder, “Young man, think carefully before you speak—’Iron Marshal’ Tirian had a father, too.”

At this point, Nemo Wilkins suddenly became alert to the subtle atmosphere and, from the recent conversation, realized the implications. Following that, he recalled the ancient legends about the Ebunomal Family, about Captain Tirian’s lost family, about Homeloss, about that soul wandering Subspace—when he looked up at Duncan again, his eyes were evidently disturbed.

“I have returned from Subspace,” Duncan said, looking at him, his voice calm, “to help Tirian with some trouble.”

Nemo thought for a moment, rolled his eyes, and fell backward.

Fortunately, Fenna seemed prepared. She caught the ‘line person’ by the arm before he could fall and quickly pulled out an entire bottle of revival oil. With a flick, she popped the stopper and promptly poured it directly into Nemo’s nostrils.

The ‘line person’ gentleman practically leaped straight up.

“Ah… ah… Achoo! Achoo!” Nemo was completely awake now, his nostrils reeking of strong medicated balm. It took several sneezes right on the spot before he could finally catch his breath, lifting his head with tears and a runny nose, he stammered with a nervous face, “I… I…”

“I’m sorry—I forgot ordinary people are not as robust as the guards,” Fenna said somewhat embarrassedly as she stowed away the glass bottle in her hand, “but don’t worry, this substance is harmless to the body.”

Nemo took out a handkerchief from his pocket and steadily wiped the tears and snot off his face as his gaze, filled with fear and hesitation, turned towards Duncan, “Is it… really you? Then… what can I do for… for you?”

“You are currently serving me,” Duncan said, gesturing with his hand, “Don’t be so nervous, just tell me more about the Frost City-State.”

“Alright… alright,” Nemo nodded repeatedly, then let out several sneezes before he calmed down, “What else would you like to ask?”

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“Are you maintaining contact with other informants in the city?” Duncan inquired, “How do you usually communicate? Do you meet in this sewer system, or do you use more covert channels?”

“We rarely gather,” Nemo said while rubbing his nose, “mainly for safety considerations—after all, many of our members have close connections to the Upper City District, and they need to be more concealed. In most cases, we exchange information through various secretive means, such as secret codes in newspapers, specific rendezvous points, or relying on some ‘Couriers’ for one-way contact.

“In fact, even we don’t know how many ‘our own’ are in the city; most informants only recognize their immediate superiors or a few ‘compatriots’ in the same area, and the complete list is only held by Captain Tirian and Mister Aiden. I am the ‘liaison’ for my level, holding a slightly more extensive list of names, but it does not exceed ten people…”

Listening to Nemo’s narrative, Fenna couldn’t help but nod slightly, “A very cautious and effective form of infiltration; most heretics dealing with the guards aren’t this professional.”

“After all, it’s half a century of Tirian’s management,” Duncan said offhandedly, then looked back at Nemo, “Are you the only one stationed at this contact point?”

“There are two others,” Nemo nodded, “One with the nickname ‘Crow’. He should be patrolling the nearby passages at this time, and an old man. He spends most of his time in the abandoned control room of the pipes—even I don’t know his real name; we all call him ‘Old Ghost’.”

Duncan exchanged glances with Fenna and Morris.

Nemo Wilkins didn’t seem affected by cognitive interference, but others who had contact with him might not be as fortunate.

“We should also say hello,” Duncan said with a nod, “Where is the control room?”

“Just over here,” Nemo said, pointing to the right of the fork in the road ahead as he spoke, “It used to be a temporary resting spot for the second waterway maintenance crew. I’ll show you the way.”

The informant stepped forward, and as they walked, he began to describe the situation of the “Old Ghost” to Duncan and the others.

“… He’s over seventy years old now, nearly the oldest among us. My grandfather once worked with him, back in the era of the Queen…

“Old Ghost’s mind isn’t very sharp, but he never makes a mistake regarding issues of the gas pipelines and the various connections of the second waterway. The extra gas pipelines we have here were installed under his direction—he secretly tapped a branch line from the main pipeline in the upper level while ensuring safety and without being detected; not just any regular person could do that job…

“Old Ghost rarely goes above ground, spending most of his time down here. Sometimes, when he has had a drink, he’ll boast about the old days. He says he was an engineer for the second waterway decades ago and that the Queen herself even awarded him a medal—but honestly, I don’t believe much of what he says. I’ve seen his medal; it’s just an iron slab with nothing on it, obviously picked up from some junkyard…

“Sigh, he most likely inhaled too much toxic gas when they retreated to the second waterway that time—I’ve told you, haven’t I? Fifty years ago, when the Queen’s Guard made their last retreat, they sealed off the second waterway. At that time, the shafts collapsed, and part of the poisonous gas drifted down from the upper levels. Some artisans loyal to the Queen ran to seal the leak, and Old Ghost was likely one of them. They say he’s been a bit off in the head ever since.”

“If he suddenly starts ranting about the Queen when we meet, please don’t take offense… It’s not intentional.”

Accompanied by Nemo Wilkins’s incessant chatter, Duncan and the others quickly bypassed the fork in the road and arrived at a rusty iron door near the sewer junction.

Nemo stepped forward and knocked on the door, called out to the inside, and then pushed the door open, “Old Ghost, you’ve got visitors.”

No sooner had he finished speaking than a hoarse but loud voice came from inside—

“Ah, has the Queen come for an inspection!?”