Douluo: Man in the Endless World, Auspicious Beast of the Far North

Chapter 208 Facing Danger with a Smile
"Where is this place?"

Clutching his splitting head, Justin felt a wave of dizziness wash over him. Struggling to his feet, Justin vaguely made out a wooden table in front of him. The table wasn't made of luxurious wood; rather, it had a cracked corner.

Justin braced himself by placing his hand on the table, but in a daze, he accidentally touched a cracked corner. Instantly, blood streamed down Justin's palm.

However, this sudden movement did free Justin. Relieved, Justin clutched his hand; after a sharp pain, he felt he could control his body again.

"Where is this place?"

Justin repeated the question a second time. The room was small, just big enough for a bed and a wooden table. An oil lamp sat on the table, and the sound of coffee being brewed could be heard coming from the living room.

Justin found it strange; he knew very well that he didn't have a coffee machine at home. And the sound didn't seem like that of an automatic coffee machine, but rather that of an old-fashioned hand-grind coffee machine.

Wasn't he reading at home? How did he suddenly end up here? Justin was confused. He looked up but didn't see any electric lights.

"What's going on here?" Justin frowned and saw a rune-like object carved into the broken wooden table. There was a dark red substance inside the grooves of the rune.

"Is this...blood?" Justin wondered. After all, for Justin, who was studying medicine, the first thing he recognized about something dark red was blood.

"Could it be that I'm dreaming?" Justin chuckled wryly. As a medical master's student at California International University, especially during this crucial period of graduation exams, Justin usually relied on sleeping pills to help him fall asleep. He guessed that he had been having too much fun after attending church with his classmates the day before yesterday, and had forgotten to take his medication.

“But this dream is too far-fetched!” Justin shook his head. The sound of coffee being brewed outside continued, and the bubbling of steam occasionally drifted in from the window. Justin didn’t find anything strange about it. He’d learned in history class that this was what it looked like during the First Industrial Revolution.

Why did I dream about the First Industrial Revolution? Was I too engrossed in my history class?
Justin, puzzled, stepped out of the room. The space outside wasn't large. Across the street was another room, similar in size to his. And in the living room, a candle was lit.

“It’s the 21st century, who still uses candles?” Justin shook his head and walked over, finding the coffee in the coffee machine already brewed, with a cup next to it. The cup was finely crafted, but the pattern didn’t seem to be from their country.

"Let me try a cup first," Justin thought, turning on the coffee machine. A rich aroma wafted out. Even though Justin didn't drink coffee often, he could tell that it was different from instant coffee.

Hand-ground coffee! This is a completely handmade product!
Justin couldn't help but laugh. What era are we living in? People still make their own coffee by hand?
Justin picked up the coffee machine and placed the cup under the spout. He had just tilted it and poured out a small cup of coffee when a slightly hoarse female voice sounded behind him.

"do not move."

Justin stopped the coffee machine in surprise and turned around to see a disheveled woman standing behind him. The woman was wearing a silk garment, a black gauze outer coat, and a pure cotton inner skirt.

"These really are clothes from the Industrial Revolution!" Justin chuckled. What puzzled him, however, was that he didn't have a deep understanding of the First Industrial Revolution, nor much knowledge of the clothing worn during that period. It was just that the items looked familiar.

"Give it to me." The woman tidied her messy hair, revealing a pure and innocent face. Justin's hand remained where it was. The woman walked over, took the cup, and poured out the remaining coffee.

“Break your own coffee if you want some. The beans are in the second drawer.” The woman sipped her coffee, though her throat was still hoarse. Justin asked, “No instant coffee?”

"What is that?" his daughter asked, puzzled. Justin shrugged. This woman was very beautiful, but there was something strange about her, as if she didn't fit in with Justin.

“There’s a little left, you can drink it.” The woman put down her cup, glanced at the remaining coffee in the coffee machine, and said to Justin. Justin walked up to the woman and suddenly noticed the six-pointed star on her chest. “What’s this?” Justin asked, pointing to the six-pointed star. Upon hearing the mention of the six-pointed star, the woman’s previously pale face immediately flushed.

“This is a ritual,” the woman said proudly. Justin’s lips twitched. “A ritual? The church?”

"Hmm." The woman nodded, thought for a moment, and said, "The Mist Cult."

"Never heard of it. Can you take me to see it?" Justin asked curiously, but the woman pushed him aside, causing him to stumble and nearly bump into the coffee machine.

“No, non-church personnel are not allowed in.” The woman shook her head, her eyes resolute. Justin was taken aback, and the woman walked in, placing a money bag in Justin’s hand. “This is the money left by Krembo after his death. It should be enough for you for a while.”

"Why give it to me?" Justin still didn't understand. The woman looked at his face and said, "I'm not letting you know now for your own good. You know that, Pelléas."

"Huh?" Justin was dumbfounded. What did she just say, Pelléas? She called me Pelléas?

It really was a dream; even the name was wrong. Just as Justin was thinking about how to address the woman, a name suddenly popped into his mind, and he blurted out, "Natalie, please tell me why."

“I’m sorry, Peljas.” The woman shook her head. “Krembo is dead, he’s dead. My father entrusted me with the affairs of the church, and you must never get involved.”

“Can’t I even tell you why?” Justin grabbed Natalie’s shoulders, and Natalie shook her head. “No. If I tell you… you might die.”

Justin froze on the spot. This was too real! I almost believed it myself.

“Pelléas, remember this: you must never follow in Krembo's footsteps. Understand?” Natalie said, looking at Justin.

"Oh," Justin mumbled, still half-asleep.

“Alright, I have to go. Remember, don’t go to the Mist Cult, don’t go to the Mist Cult!” Natalie said before leaving. Justin couldn’t help but reply, “Then where should I go?”

“Stay home. If you're really desperate, go to Pound Church and find Clyde.” Natasha’s voice came from outside the door. Suddenly, Justin felt a sharp pain in his head.

"Here we go again, damn it!"

Justin clutched his head, and suddenly, a flood of memories that shouldn't belong to him surged up, and Justin felt himself sinking into them, and then there was no more news.

A moment later, Justin's body entered the room, and at the same time, a voice came from the center of the Mist Church's main hall not far away.

"Congratulations to Peljas Jackson on his resurrection."

At this moment, Justin was astonished to find that the wounds on his previously injured hand had completely healed!
(End of this chapter)