Ark Undead

"Please come in, gentlemen."

Clearly, someone knew they were coming; Greyhound must have already arrived.

Following the big man further inside, and passing through a passage with ambiguous colors, Onstan felt a bit crowded.

But after passing through the main gate and arriving at the central hall, the space suddenly becomes much more open.

After looking around for a while, Onstan realized that this place was actually a bar or nightclub.

But it's daytime now, and the place isn't open for business. So only a few people are cleaning and tidying up the hall.

"You've finally arrived! I've been here for ages."

As Undead had expected, Greyhound had arrived safely. It was only because he and Brother Sun had given prior notice that the big man allowed Undead to enter outside of working hours.

He sat at the bar, ordered a bright yellow drink and sipped it slowly, then waved to the Undead and the others.

The Undead and Onstan walked over, and Onstan simply plopped down cross-legged on the ground, almost as long as the two sitting in the chairs.

The Undead sat down in the swivel chair and took the box out of his armor.

"yours."

"Just leave it on the table; it's good that it wasn't lost."

Greyhound asked the bartender for another cocktail with a lower alcohol content and handed it to the Undead.

"Want to try some? It's sweet and not too strong."

"No."

The Undead shook his head. He had no interest in chatting and drinking with Greyhound. He needed to know what had happened and why Greyhound was here.

Seeing that the man wouldn't accept the drink, Greyhound put his drink on the bar and then spoke.

"Okay, I know you're probably wondering why I'm here at Red Dust Inn."

"We're coming to find you."

The Undead pointed at the Greyhound and said.

"Found no one. And there were signs of a struggle."

Greyhound shrugged; he knew the Undead would come looking for him again today. That's why he hadn't cleaned up any traces when he left last night.

"Yes, I had a guest over last night, and we had a bit of an unpleasant argument."

Are you sure it was just a verbal argument?

The Undead paused for a moment.

"You must have been suppressed."

He was being very polite; in the words of those watching the game, he was brutally beaten.

Greyhound wasn't ashamed at all; he waved his hand.

"It's normal. Who is he? And who am I? It's perfectly normal to lose."

He didn't feel ashamed at all, and just continued speaking.

"At first, I thought she had some malicious intent towards me. But later, when I realized I couldn't beat her at all, I gave up resisting. She obviously wanted to test my skills."

"Including today when I went to the Red Dust Guest, it was because she asked me to do something. Of course, I refused at first. But when she mentioned something about the Demon Seed, I immediately became interested."

Upon hearing Greyhound mention the Demon Seed, the Undead immediately perked up.

Greyhound continued.

"In the Red Dust Guest's collection room, there is an original sample of the Demon Seed. It was sealed away using professional methods and stored in the innermost part. Normally, no one else should know about this. But that person said she smelled it and asked me to help retrieve it."

Greyhound patted his chest as he finished speaking.

"As you know, I'm bound to get involved in shady dealings. So, I devised a way to sneak in and get my hands on the stuff."

As he spoke, Greyhound opened the box that the Undead had placed on the table.

Inside the box lay a sealed glass tube, from which a wisp of black smoke drifted silently. No matter how the greyhound pushed, it seemed to be fixed inside the glass tube, steadily presenting a humanoid appearance.

The Undead glanced at the Greyhound, then at the humanity on the table.

"Who is he?"

The Undead became extremely interested in the human being that the Greyhound was talking about, the one who could smell human nature.

There are actually people like this in the Great Yan Dynasty? Could they also be one of the immortals who left the world of the painting?

"That's what Greyhound said."

"I arranged to meet her here; it's also the delivery location. She should be here soon..."

As the two were talking, they heard the door being pushed open with a creaking sound.

A graceful figure walked in through the door, dressed in bold and unrestrained clothing, her white hair tied back and covered by a baseball cap, looking every bit the modern young woman.

She had just come in and hadn't even had a chance to speak when she saw the Undead and the Greyhound sitting next to the bar.

The greyhound waved to her with a smile, his face full of kindness.

When the immortal next to him turned his gaze over, Nian's heart skipped a beat.

The Undead stared at Nian, and Nian stared back at the Undead.

Then, the Undead raised his right hand, and a wisp of flame burned quietly in his palm.

Nian quickly raised his hands.

"Don't attack! I'm on your side! I have nothing to do with the Abyss!"

284. Traces of History

"Wait, wait! I'm on your side, not from the other side of the abyss!"

Nian simply raised both hands above his head to indicate that he had no malicious intent.

The Undead did not heed Nian's words. He took a deep breath and keenly detected the scent emanating from Nian in the air.

"You have their scent on you."

"Because I'm investigating the cause of the anomaly in Shang Shu, I naturally have their scent! And as you know, I'm only one-twelfth of what I was back then, and I no longer have the ability to communicate directly with the Abyss!"

Nian spoke a great deal of words in a flash, but these words had no effect on the ears of the immortals.

Because he couldn't understand it very well.

"One-twelfth, or one-twelfth?"

The Undead not only grasped this key point, but he also noticed another sentence.

"Communication, the abyss?"

What Nian said was quite shocking. She claimed that she used to have the ability to directly communicate with the Abyss? That's beyond the ordinary level.

When she heard the question from the immortal, she was taken aback for a moment, and then asked uncertainly.

"You are... an immortal?"

"I'm."

The Undead nodded; he realized that the girl in front of him seemed to recognize him.

After organizing her thoughts, she asked.

"Can you still draw that great bow? No... how much do you remember about the war against the gods?"

The words Nian said immediately brought the immortals to their senses.

She seemed to know more than the undead herself, and what she told them.

Seeing that the immortal had stopped speaking, Nian realized that the immortal in front of him seemed to be slightly different from the figure in his memory.

After thinking about it for a while, she came to a conclusion.

"You forgot."

"Do not."

The Undead shook his head. To be precise, it wasn't the same thing at all.

"I don't have that memory. This isn't forgetting."

"No, you definitely have it, you couldn't possibly not have it, you just forgot."

As she spoke, Nian grew bolder. She moved forward cautiously and tiptoed, afraid that if she took a bigger step, she would either kill someone or set the place on fire.

Then she went to the undead's side. She couldn't see anything through the armor, so she asked.

"Zombie transformation?"

"How do you know about zombie transformation?"

What she revealed over the years, what she knew, had exceeded the expectations of the Undead and Onstan.

The year is like someone who has come all the way from the Age of Fire, and has personally touched the traces of history, seemingly knowing all the answers.

But when she heard the answer that the immortal was not dead, she said it with certainty.

"He can't even speak properly anymore, he must have turned into a zombie. What happened?"

Unbeknownst to him, Nian had even started speaking in dialect. The Undying, amidst his confusion, became increasingly convinced of his own judgment.

The girl in front of me definitely knows some inside information about the immortals, things that even the immortals themselves probably don't know.

"Tell me more details."

The immortal became curious, so he lowered his right hand and patted the chair next to him.

"sit."

Only then did he relax, and after a few steps, he walked over to the Undead and plopped down on him.

At least for now, I don't have to worry about a spark igniting somewhere on my body while I'm talking.

"your name?"

"The immortal asked."