Chapter 32: In the Verses, Carve Out Your Own Stigmata!

A Bruxa Maligna BOSS Só Quer se Desenvolver nas Sombras Preto Nº 2 3629 words 2026-08-04 03:45:26

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The Rat Plague had already become a chapter in the chronicles of Augland City.

Though it was not particularly intense and posed little threat to the Supernaturals, it had spread throughout every district of Augland City and affected everyone.

Its influence and significance were extraordinarily far-reaching.

At the same time, the great event known as the Rat Plague possessed tremendous catalytic power. Many Supernaturals could benefit from it.

“That secret hunting trap must be set in motion as soon as possible. The earlier I take part in the great event known as the Rat Plague, the sooner I can digest and absorb my resources—and… pry loose even greater power.”

Zorn had originally been wondering whether he should visit Adolf Monastery to purchase some items from the Witch Bishop.

Now it seemed not only necessary, but urgent.

“Mr. Zorn, have you heard about the major theft that recently took place in the Bay District?”

Isaac’s voice pulled Zorn’s thoughts back once more.

“Hmm? A theft?”

Zorn’s heart stirred. His eyes narrowed slightly as he looked at Isaac.

“Has the incident already begun to gain momentum?”

Zorn had erased every trace of himself.

But the evil-spirit sacrifice and the ritual platform had remained behind.

After all, they were both part of the Announcement Rite.

“I’m not particularly aware of it,” Zorn said, shaking his head.

When the subject of the conflict between the evil-god organization and the Supernaturals arose, Isaac became quite animated.

Newly awakened Supernaturals were always deeply interested in everything concerning the supernatural world.

“This matter has caused a tremendous uproar these past few days.”

“Even while resting in taverns, I’ve heard countless people discussing it.”

Isaac began to explain the details to Zorn.

“They say that one of the leaders of the Homer Mafia, an Arsonist, joined forces with an evil-god organization and took advantage of the curtain of rain to steal a batch of important resources. Supposedly, they were worth more than a hundred thousand pounds.”

“It was the largest theft to occur in Augland City in recent years.”

“More than a hundred thousand pounds?”

Zorn rubbed his fingers together.

“That Viscount Brynn certainly has nerve. Resources worth only tens of thousands of pounds, and he actually reported them as being worth more than a hundred thousand.”

“Could it be that he intends to write off the loss in my name?”

Quite apart from the value of the resources themselves, from Viscount Brynn’s perspective, one of the Homer Mafia’s underlings had been sacrificed, its important resources had vanished, and the very leader who had controlled everything had disappeared.

It clearly looked like a long-planned conspiracy—a case of one criminal faction devouring another from within and without.

“Besides…” Isaac continued.

“I heard that a certain prominent figure has released word that anyone who provides valuable information will receive a reward of at least five hundred pounds.”

“I know you have many friends. Perhaps you may have information regarding the matter.”

“Five hundred pounds is no small sum.”

Zorn nodded. He now understood what the young rat catcher was thinking.

This young and inexperienced fellow was trying to introduce him to a way of making money.

Unfortunately—

That path was far too wild.

Isaac continued.

“I heard that at the scene of the theft, there was evidence of a cruel and bloody sacrifice.”

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“And not just any sacrifice, but an extremely evil living sacrifice. That damned evil spirit…”

Upon hearing this, Zorn rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“When the police went to investigate, the official Supernaturals examined the remnants of the mysterious ritual and concluded that it had been carried out by a mad and terrifying individual.”

“They say he left the traces of the ritual there in order to proclaim…”

As he spoke, Isaac scratched his head. For a moment, he could not recall the excessively awkward term.

“It was… the evil spirit’s Announcement Rite!”

Zorn supplied the words casually from the side.

“Yes, yes! The evil spirit’s Announcement Rite.”

Isaac nodded repeatedly.

“Sir Zorn, you truly are learned. I can never remember those obscure, tongue-twisting terms.”

“My teacher said that the terrifying evil-god organization constructed that bloody living sacrifice for the express purpose of telling everyone else that the dreadful evil spirit… had arrived!”

“And we rat catchers have the duty and responsibility to hunt evil spirits.”

Isaac clenched his fist and spoke with absolute seriousness.

Disguised as the evil spirit’s Announcement Rite, the scene concealed Zorn’s true purpose: taking revenge on the Mafia and on that greedy noble viscount.

It was enough to help Zorn reclaim what belonged to him.

At the same time, this Announcement Rite was a sacred mark that Zorn had gently carved into his own chapter within the chronicles of Augland City.

It could assist his growth to a certain extent.

It was neither particularly bold nor especially profound.

But this was only the beginning.

After eating his fill and conversing for a while, Isaac the Rat Catcher recovered a considerable amount of his energy and strength.

At Zorn’s invitation, Isaac began conducting a comprehensive inspection of every part of the estate, inside and out.

By tapping on the walls, Isaac could determine where the rats had made their nests.

From the scents, hairs, and barely perceptible traces remaining in the corners, he could even tell how many gray rats had once gathered there.

Zorn possessed the Forbidden Sealed Artifact, the Ring of Twin Serpents, and considered his eyesight far from poor.

But when it came to investigating traces left by rats, there was only one conclusion:

For professional work, one ultimately had to rely on a professional.

About two hours later, Isaac had marked a total of twelve sections of basement wall.

Behind those walls were passageways gnawed out by gray rats, each with a concealed rat hole in the corner.

All of those places would have to be opened up again, repaired, and filled in.

By the time they finished, it was nearly noon.

Zorn invited Isaac to enjoy a sumptuous lunch.

After seeing Isaac off, Zorn waited for a while. When Gronk still had not returned, he guessed that the man had gone to negotiate with the owner of the steam factory and decided not to wait any longer.

On Golo Long Street, he hailed a carriage.

“To the police station on North Ring Street in the Mist District.”

The coachman pondered for a moment, then lowered his voice and replied politely.

“Certainly, esteemed sir!”

Over the past few days, Zorn could feel the sacred mark he had carved becoming steadily stronger.

In other words, the influence produced by the batch of resources he had stolen and sacrificed was far greater than it appeared on the surface.

Sometimes, a sacred mark painstakingly carved through a ritual would soon be washed away by time and fate, disappearing without a trace.

Yet this theft and ritual, born of a fortuitous coincidence, had produced such astonishing results in Augland City, where danger was surging beneath the surface.

To carve his own sacred mark into the chronicles of Augland City!

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It was as though he had unlocked a permanent achievement, bringing Zorn a host of buff effects.

He could already feel them.

His Sequence had become more stable.

The digestion of sacrificial offerings and his daily cultivation had both grown considerably more efficient and fluid.

While marveling at the capriciousness of fate, Zorn decided to fan the flames even higher and make the sacred mark more profound.

Such an opportunity was exceedingly rare.

The deeper the sacred mark, the more astonishing the effects of the achievement would be.

Now that he had encountered it, he could not afford to let it slip away.

…

A little after two in the afternoon.

Ansel Hall passed through the noisy, weeping, clamorous lobby of the North Ring Street Police Station and arrived at the entrance.

Wearing a slightly loose black police jacket, he tugged at his tie, loosened his police cap, and let out a deep breath.

Recently, the number of Wanderers in the Mist District had noticeably declined.

The pressure of his patrols had eased considerably.

The municipal police headquarters had also organized training in supernatural powers for law-enforcement officers like him who possessed extraordinary abilities. They had even arranged exchanges with the Supernaturals of the churches, and he had gained a great deal from the experience.

Yet, for some unknown reason, a rat infestation had suddenly begun in the Mist District over the past few days.

Apparently, quite a few people had been bitten by those terrifying rats.

Some of the rats had been beaten to death as well, and their heads were frighteningly large.

Who knew what toxic substances those heartless steam factories had dumped into the sewers? They had somehow bred such enormous, horrifying rats.

It was said that quite a few domestic cats had been injured by rats.

Worse still, those terrifying rodents had begun hunting stray cats in packs.

Rats hunting cats?

The world seemed to be slowly unfolding before his eyes in some grotesque and bizarre fashion.

“This damned world is becoming more and more incomprehensible!”

After spitting forcefully, Officer Ansel happened to notice an eight- or nine-year-old newsboy approaching him. The boy wore a filthy gray newsboy cap.

Ansel also noticed that what the boy held in his hands did not seem to be a newspaper.

Before he could ask anything, the newsboy, whose large eyes were framed by long lashes, looked up at him.

“Excuse me, are you Officer Ansel Hall?”

The vigilance peculiar to law-enforcement officers rose instantly.

“What business do you have with Officer Ansel Hall?”

“A gentleman just now told me to give this to Officer Ansel. He also told me that you were Officer Ansel.”

“Oh? Where is that gentleman?”

“Over there.”

Following the direction indicated by the newsboy, Ansel saw several pedestrians, but he was certain that none of them was the person he was looking for.

Never mind.

Ansel shook his head and made no attempt to continue searching.

“That’s right. I’m Officer Ansel.”

He nodded and casually accepted the fairly heavy object, which had been wrapped tightly in newspaper.

He then took out two copper pence to buy a copy of that day’s Augland Steam Daily, wrapped the object inside the newspaper, tucked it under his arm, and walked into the police station.

He reached his office and closed the door.

Then he opened the package.

As Ansel examined its contents, his expression changed dramatically.