Unable to repay my student loans, I had no choice but to work part-time as a demon hunter.

On the afternoon of July 11, Gordon returned to Lundnim.

During his time wandering in the countryside, he spent a lot of time observing and experiencing everything around him.

Sunlight pierces through the clouds, spreading heat from high to low. The wind sweeps across the hillside, pushing waves of grass into the distance. Streams follow the contours of the land, insects chase the scent of food, and people chase money, security, and love.

There is no such thing as absolute isolation in the world.

When enough motion converges in the same direction, the outcome may seem predetermined.

His integration with "Tides of Destiny" has improved considerably.

But what's even more terrifying is that he feels he's only pried open a corner of this source material, merely driving the water flow. The immense power behind it awaits Gordon's exploration.

He has learned from Vera what the tides of people are like, and from the lakes what the tides of bodies of water are like. Next, perhaps rivers, the sea, and even more complex destinies will be explored.

Gordon rode his horse close to 9 Knightsway.

It was originally a quiet and unknown firm.

There's already a long queue at the entrance.

This included an old woman, a coachman, and a young woman who looked anxious and pale.

People rarely huddle together so neatly, exuding a distinct sense of unease.

They are looking for their family.

This is the most common type of commission for the Demon Hunter Agency; it's high-volume and stable.

In Lundnium, those who went missing were either devoured by demons or captured for experiments, and an exceptionally large number disappeared at the hands of the Blackwater Hermitage.

Ordinary people have no hope of success through their own efforts; they can only hope that someone with special abilities can step in and solve the problem.

Gordon dismounted with more seriousness. He walked over and listened for a while, mostly about missing persons.

"My brother has been missing for five days..."

"He promised to go home and pick up his daughter..."

"She went out that day and never came back..."

Vera stood behind the counter. She was very tall and imposing, but listening to the buzzing voices, she was clearly struggling to keep up. As she listened, she jotted down simple notes in her notebook.

Due to her lack of experience, she clearly planned to treat each commission as an equally important one.

The map of Lundnium on the counter was covered with thumbtacks. There were seven when he left, and now there were more than thirty, showing a certain pattern.

Gordon did the math.

If the locations of the disappearances overlap, it means they are facing an abnormal source that is continuously devouring people.

However, there were too many people in front of me.

Gordon had to first calm these people down and get the process right again.

Otherwise, listening to so many complaints will only result in a painful and annoying office.

"Everyone, everyone." Gordon waved.

"Ahhh..."

"And this is...?"

"Sir..." they looked at Gordon nervously.

When Vera saw Gordon, her tense body finally relaxed.

But then, everyone's emotions were released.

"My son! My son is missing!"

"Find my sister first, she's only seventeen!" A girl pushed her way to the front.

"Wait a minute!" Gordon raised his hands. "If you all speak at the same time, we can only find the one with the loudest voice, not the missing one."

Everyone quieted down.

"Each household pays a basic investigation fee of 2 silver pounds upfront, and an additional 10 silver pounds upon rescuing a living person. If there are no results or the body is found, no further fees are charged, but the money is not refunded either," Gordon said.

"Two silver pounds in advance?"

"A corpse?" The girl gasped.

A commotion broke out in the crowd.

"Yes, we will confirm the death, retrieve the belongings, record the location, and then notify the police station. All of this needs to be done, and it will cost money." Gordon waved his hand.

"By Saint Joshua, I don't have that much money," said a woman holding a child.

"First of all, this is an agency. If we can't even make a living, then no one can save us in the end. Secondly, those who don't have money can use the missing person's belongings to offset part of the investigation fees. Now, those who have enough money, please step forward," Gordon instructed.

The crowd lined up again, and some people went back to get their things.

Banknotes were placed on the counter, some greasy, some warm, and some coins scattered all over the table.

Vera's questions were brief, and Gordon's notes were swift.

In less than half an hour, Gordon had compiled all the crying, arguing, and vague narratives into a commission file.

"That's all for now." Gordon finished organizing the registration forms and patted them on the table. "We'll conduct a unified investigation, and once the results are available, we'll send notifications to the registered addresses. Please go home now and trust the Carteret Demon Hunter Agency."

Everyone sighed and left one after another.

An old woman shook Gordon's hand, thanked him profusely, and then wiped her eyes with her scarf before leaving the house.

The footsteps gradually faded away, and the office finally returned to silence.

Gordon looked at the file and nodded.

Although the initial request was simply to help citizens find missing persons, it was of great social significance and was also closely related to what they were currently doing.

Vera closed the door, pulled down the blinds, and turned on the gaslight.

"How are you doing in the countryside?" she asked Gordon, pouring him a cup of tea.

"It's alright." Gordon drank some water.

"He looks thinner, stronger, and smarter," Vera observed Gordon.

Although she couldn't put it into words, she sensed that Gordon was in much better shape and that he must have gained some kind of insight.

"It's always like this." Gordon counted the money: 80 silver pounds, about 4 gold pounds, plus some supplies donated by the poor to offset the cost. "Your side is progressing well too."

Although the income was not much, it proved that the Demon Hunter Agency was an organization that could operate and make money.

"Will we have to prepay from now on?"

"Yes, we're not a charity. Without clear barriers to entry, we'll be wasted on scammers and idle people. We need to differentiate between paid and paid services to ensure we spend our time on more important things."

"I don't like talking about money."

"So I'll handle this; I'll be responsible for explaining it to them."

"They'll go on and on."

"A firm needs a clear division of labor. Look, this is our first pot of gold." Gordon gathered the money on the table.

Vera looked at the money and carefully put it into a small safe.

"There's progress." Vera spread out the map, anchoring it with different colored pins according to the time of disappearance: May, June, and the most recent week.

Gordon glanced at the markings and quickly sketched out the distribution of danger and missing persons in his mind.

Gordon superimposed the Lundenim map and the underground hydrographic map, pondering the distribution of the pins, his gaze gradually settling on a point on the south side of the riverbank.

A single disappearance is a random crime, and several disappearing together is also a coincidence, but if these thumbtacks gather at a certain point and reappear, that point itself may be the answer.

"Cold water warehouse".

That's how it's written on the map, and on the underground hydrological map, it's circled in red and marked with the words "altar," located at the confluence of several tributaries.

Gordon picked up some items provided by the missing person's family: a pipe, gloves, a scarf, and a handkerchief. He also found shoes and a hat that Vera had picked up from the riverbank while investigating the missing person.

He picked them up one by one, using his string reading skills to determine the direction.

He picked up a pair of gloves, but the white thread broke off just an inch from the top, with no direction.

"This person's connection with reality has ended," Gordon concluded.

"He's dead."

"Give the families something to look forward to?"

"..." Vera drew a black line next to the corresponding file.

Gordon picked up a dockworker's damp hat, on which a thread emerged, initially dark red, then turning oily green and deep blue, the different colors blending together like dyes.

"I see a bunch of colors," Gordon said, squinting.

"What does that mean?"

"The connection is still there, but the nature of the situation has changed. The owner of the hat is probably not just dead. He might not even be human anymore."

"Mutations?"

"In short, it certainly has more room for imagination than death."

He picked up another handkerchief, which belonged to a young girl.

The line points faintly westward.

Gordon picked up the map and went outside the office to look at it. Its general direction was indeed towards the location of the cold water warehouse.

After Gordon completed his investigation, at least 20 of the 30 independent missing persons cases pointed to the same direction.

Of these, 12 are likely dead, and the lines on their objects no longer extend; the lines on 5 of them turn into eerie colors; and 13 may still be alive, somewhere in the city, eagerly awaited by their families.

"I'm going to go there and see," Vera concluded. If they don't try now, more missing people will become dead.

"Wait. The enemy is waiting for us to make a mistake." Gordon raised his hand and began to summon the Ratsticks with the Return Spell, "Return, soul... Return, soul..."

While waiting for the rats, Vera repeatedly looked through the files of the missing persons. The streets outside gradually darkened, and the torchbearer walked along the street with a ladder, lighting the streetlights one by one with a long torch.

"Chirp chirp." Mouse knocked on the door.

Gordon put it in, fed it some cheese, and then put it on the table.

The mouse stood on the overlay of the Lundenim map and the underground hydrographic map.

"We found a place, a cold water warehouse, roughly from here to here..." Gordon showed Mousestick a map of the underground hydrology of Lundenim.

Those underground passages, waterways, and culverts are connected together, and are difficult to discern for humans, but are relatively clear to the rats.

Has anyone moved anything in recently?

"Yes, yes." Mouse reached out and poked, "Big box, salt, bags, the bags will kick."

Are there rats there?

"No. The rats that go in don't come back."

"Where does the water compass react?"

"Not just there." Mouse poked at several other points on the hydrological map. "There are many other good places."

Gordon nodded secretly. The Blackwater Order's underground network was growing deeper and deeper; these people...

Once Gordon's water control abilities are further enhanced, he will also be able to dive underground. The sewage and groundwater flowing underground will no longer be able to stop him.

"What's next?" Vera asked.

In any case, the cold water warehouse is clearly a Blackwater Hermitage stronghold, and possibly a human processing factory. The rats wouldn't dare go there; there are probably quite a few people stationed inside.

Gordon thought for a moment.

"Do your reconnaissance first, don't chase anyone, and don't dive into the sewers just because someone is calling for help. The Blackwater Hermitage loves to dive in at the first sign of trouble, and if we alert them, they'll just go somewhere we can't reach." Gordon turned around, "It's best to have a team of people willing to follow orders."

"...It's alright, I'll handle this myself. You go do your thing." Vera turned to Gordon.

Gordon paused for a moment.

"What do you mean, 'my business'?"

"The Midsummer Festival. Charlotte invited you, and you accepted. I read in the newspaper that there will be a beautiful crown for the best work and the luckiest and most beautiful lady."

These two things are not contradictory.

"There will be conflicts. That thing is in a beautiful world, with nobles, the wealthy, and many people you'll need in the future. My matter is underground, in the filthy sewers. I can't stop you from moving forward just because I want you to be with me."

Vera spoke with great restraint.

But this seems to be the moment when everything turns around.

She ultimately remained in the shadows, studying monsters and unusual events.

Charlotte stood in a brightly lit and music-filled place, waiting to walk towards a dazzling future with Gordon.

However, Vera wouldn't use such emotions to bind Gordon, so she would keep it as simple as possible.

Gordon's heart skipped a beat.

Vera always placed herself in an insignificant position, as if if he moved forward, she should automatically retreat to that dark and gloomy place.

"How could that be?" Gordon stood up. "You mean, I dumped the firm's case on you, and then I disappeared into a noble celebration and never came back?"

"You need fame, you need the Monford family's support, you need Charlotte..."

“Of course, all of that is important. The Summer Festival is very important; it concerns our essence, our reputation, and a bright future.” Gordon stepped forward and took Vera’s hand. “But you are important too.”

"..." Vera lowered her head.

"There's no such thing as 'your business' or 'my business,' it's just a matter of us deciding which to do first, isn't it?"

"...Yes. Go to the celebration first, then you can come help me."

"Yes, I will go to the Midsummer Festival, finish what needs to be done, and then I will come back to help you. You don't have to shoulder this alone. We will figure these things out together, we will go in together, turn the cold water warehouse upside down, find the missing people, and let them go home happily."

"I'm sure. I went to the celebration to let more people know about us. I'm coming back because this is my home." Gordon lifted Vera up and kissed her all the way down her belly button.

"Oh, right, I... I didn't mean to compete with Charlotte in anything." Vera looked up.

"I know."

"She's wonderful. Her future is bright."

"You're doing well too," Gordon murmured. "I hope these things will ultimately bring us closer together, not further apart. I want to use my abilities to create a future where everyone is part of it."

"Waaah..."

"Also, it's so long, it needs trimming..."

Gordon turned off the gas lights in his office and hung a "Temporarily Closed" sign on the door.