Mystery: Starting from the Shadow World

Chapter 21 Admiral

Dragon Bar, an underground trading market.

The flow of people was both strange and familiar, and occasionally a strange look was cast at Philip.

He lowered his hat brim slightly, not surprised. After all, he had been openly invited to "have tea" by the Night Watch team just two days ago. There were quite a few people there at the time, and because they were asleep, they didn't know the specifics of the incident. Nobody knew what they had imagined.

Fortunately, it didn't have much impact on shopping.

After purchasing the necessary auxiliary materials, Philip stood up again, ready to continue his work. Suddenly, inspiration struck him, and this strange feeling made him turn his head and look at the distance.

From the corner, a pale-faced young man with messy, disheveled black hair slowly emerged with unsteady steps.

His already bloodshot eyes were fixed on Philip, and he laughed wildly, excitedly, yet weakly: "Ha ha, ha ha ha! Darkness, despairing darkness, boundless darkness. Ah—!"

Two streams of bright red blood flowed from his tightly closed eyes. The young man writhed and cried out in agony, yet he still struggled to crawl toward where Philip was.

The hand and the tattered linen shirt moved across the ground, leaving irregular red marks. The whole scene looked very strange and out of place with the peaceful crowd around them.

Philip watched silently, then turned slightly to the stall owner beside him, who seemed completely unconcerned, and asked, "Who is he?"

"Ha!" The portly boss, sitting cross-legged on the ground, let out a cryptic sigh, turning his gaze in that direction with a hint of disdain and indifference in his tone.

"His name is Admiral, we all call him 'The Monster.' This guy is always like this, crazy and eccentric. He can always see things that others can't see and hear things that others can't hear, so he's never really normal."

"At first, some fools tried to help this poor guy who had no parents, but it was all in vain! This guy's only destiny is madness and death, it was destined from birth, and the person who should be responsible for this is nowhere to be found."

"Monster" Philip paused for a moment, then asked, "Who gave him that title?"

"That's what everyone says, but the earliest one I remember," the boss narrowed his eyes, snorted coldly, and then said, "was a shady bar owner."

The owner of the Dragon Bar, Swain? Since he can maintain this underground trading market with extraordinary individuals, he must not be an ordinary person. Philip nodded slightly, confirming his guess.

The "monster" pathway of the Life School suggests that the individual was likely born as a half-Sequence 9 of this pathway, unable to control their powerful inspiration due to the lack of potion use, leading to their misfortune.

Unfortunately, there's nothing I can do about it.

Philip shook his head, preparing to ignore the other person and go find the final auxiliary material needed for the Madman's Potion.

"Flame, flame!"

However, the murmur behind him made him stop in his tracks, having only taken a few steps. He turned around and saw the young man lying on the ground, struggling to raise his hand and pointing tremblingly at Philip, trying his best to reach for something.

Watching those pale fingers droop down and rest on his shoes, Philip pressed down on his top hat, looked down at the other man, then closed his eyes and let out a sigh of helplessness.

The midday sun streamed through the bay window into the living room, which served as the living room. Philip held a wooden box containing various extraordinary materials in one hand and put the bunch of brass keys into his pocket with the other.

He looked at Admisor, whose head was almost buried in the ground, who was carrying a bag of food and whose body was trembling uncontrollably, and said with some helplessness:

"Admiral, right?"

The latter trembled twice and quickly nodded.

Having previously embarked on the path of the extraordinary, and now bringing home this unlucky fellow who's bound to die sooner or later, I really am good at asking for trouble. Philip thought to himself, speaking softly:

"We'll talk about serious matters later. Let's prepare dinner first."

Without waiting for a reply, he took the ingredients from the other person and walked straight into the kitchen.

In the living room, Admiral, who had been looking down, suddenly froze. He raised his head and turned towards a certain spot, following the faint footsteps. Even though his eyes were closed, surprise and shock were still evident on his face.

His lips moved as if he wanted to say something, or perhaps he did say something, but the noise from the cafeteria drowned out his words.

In the silence, the aroma of the dishes filled the air and gradually increased. The mixed smells made Admirsol swallow twice and subconsciously touch his stomach.

Tart!

The chair was pulled out from under the table with a thud. The terrifying and strange boy who had taken him away earlier seemed to have taken a seat and said to him again, "Rye bread and boiled beef. You don't mind, do you?"

Admisor opened his mouth, struggled several times, and finally mustered some strength in his chest, "Me?"

"Yes, that's right." Philip looked at the poor man who still dared not open his eyes, shook his head inwardly, and tried his best not to let his tone be affected by the slight resentment that arose from the trouble. "It's easier to chat when you're full. Hmm, stretch out your hand first."

He took out a bowl, put in a piece of rye bread, scooped some beef broth, a few pieces of beef, and potatoes. After confirming the portion was about right, he placed a towel at the bottom of the bowl and handed it to Admirsol, reminding him:

Not a single mistake, not a single poem, not a single post, not a single piece of content, not a single look!

"Hold on tight, let's go to the kitchen to eat."

The warmth from his palm and the words whispered in his ear stirred a sudden tremor within Admisor, who was filled with confusion and fear. He struggled to keep his trembling from subsiding and choked out:

"Thank you, sir, thank you."

Philip paused for a moment, a faint, unsmiling smile unconsciously appearing on his face. He returned to the table, picked up the clean silver fork and spoon with both hands, and began to eat as if nothing had happened.

His smile faded only after Admisor disappeared from sight, and he tapped his forks and spoons together, making a crisp sound.

The silver utensils reflected the light in his eyes. Philip looked at the dishes on the table. Although he was still hungry, he suddenly felt that he had no appetite.

The so-called madman isn't that crazy.

Adhering to the principle of not wasting his efforts, he eventually ate something.

As he began to tidy up the things on the table, Admirsol, who was in the kitchen, seemed to have heard the sound and hurriedly came out with the bowl that no longer showed any food residue.

"Sir, please leave it to me. I can wash the dishes, I can clean the house!"

Philip thought for a moment, put the bowl he had just picked up back on the table, and nodded, "Hmm."

(End of this chapter)