Lord of The Mysterious Realms Chapter 1028

As Jenkins pondered, the fleshy mass under the counter continued to squirm, the form of an infant within its membrane growing ever clearer. He took a step back and raised a hand, summoning a ribbon of light that represented his [Knowledge Bestowal], yet hesitated, worried it might cause the unformed infant's soul to mutate.

After a moment's hesitation, he flicked a flame from his fingertip. The Inexhaustible Fire instantly engulfed the unformed mass, which erupted into a fireball with a wretched howl. Yet, it wasn't completely incinerated. When Jenkins recalled the flames, a small piece of an umbilical cord lay upon the floor.

Jenkins kept his eyes fixed on the object as he slowly backed away, not stopping until he reached the shop's entrance. Through the door, the street outside was a winter scene, a blanket of snow turning everything silver. Follow current ɴᴏᴠᴇʟs on novelFirｅ.net

His hand touched the door. Without a second's pause, he shoved it open and leaped through, only to find himself landing back inside Pops Antique Shop.

The shop was still subtly different from its real-world counterpart, but the wrongness was now more pronounced. A layer of gray snow covered the floor, and the walls and ceiling were marred by mold spots that resembled a network of veins.

Winter still reigned outside the display window, but the scene looked even more decayed, utterly devoid of life.

Treading on the gray snow, Jenkins made his way behind the counter once more. When he looked beneath it, he saw a fully formed infant—one with the face of a cat.

It was curled up in a pile of snow, clutching a small, worm-like piece of umbilical cord that was already halfway into its mouth. Noticing Jenkins looking down, the little monster slurped the rest of the cord in and once again let out that spine-chilling meow:

It scrambled onto all fours, seemingly ready to dart out from under the counter. But Jenkins had already flicked a silver sliver of forbidden knowledge through the air. The shard traced a graceful arc before burrowing into the cat-faced infant's head, causing it to explode.

A spray of red, white, and green fluids splattered across the inside of the counter, the walls, and the floor. The gray snow was stained a grotesque color, and even Jenkins’s trousers and shoes were not spared.

Chocolate, likely having heard the meow, poked its head out from Jenkins's coat. Its beautiful eyes widened as it scanned the surroundings, but Jenkins quickly pushed the cat back inside.

The infant's explosion left behind grisly remains in the snow. Amidst the broken bones jutting from the slush and pools of viscous blood, the only intact object was another incomplete umbilical cord. Half-buried in a small crater, it looked more substantial than the last piece, though it was still quite short.

"So the umbilical cord is the key?"

Jenkins murmured to himself, though there was no one to answer. This time, instead of trying to leave, he stepped through the grisly mess of bones, organs, and blood, pulled on a glove, and reached directly for the umbilical cord.

The instant his fingers touched the cord, it felt as though his entire body passed through a watery membrane. The scenery shifted for a third time, and the antique shop materialized before him once more.

This version of the shop looked as if it had been abandoned for ages. All the furniture showed signs of rot and decay. In addition to the gray snow and moldy stains, a dense network of red threads, like capillaries, lay hidden just beneath the surface of the snow. Had Jenkins not scuffed it with his foot, he might never have noticed the eerie pattern.

Another wretched meow echoed from beneath the counter. Jenkins hesitated for a moment before walking over.

He bent down. A small, naked boy was huddled in the corner under the counter. Its body was covered in patchy fur, and its face still bore the features of a wildcat.

The umbilical cord clutched in its hand was unmistakably the one from before. As Jenkins leaned in, the creature swallowed all but the very last piece of it.

The sound was extraordinarily shrill and piercing. Jenkins touched his left ear and his fingers came away wet with blood. He grunted, the ringing in his ears so loud he couldn't hear his own voice. No matter. As he stepped back and summoned his [Twin Demons], the little monster's fate was sealed.

A second later, the black demon detonated, obliterating half of the antique shop.

When the blast subsided, Jenkins was covered in gray snow, dirt, and dust. He hurried through the swirling smoke and saw that a deep crater had been blasted where the counter once stood.

This confirmed Jenkins's suspicion that this was not Pops Antique Shop from any point in time. There should have been a hidden room beneath the counter, but the ground here was solid.

Amid the wreckage of the counter, which still flickered with black flames, a slightly longer umbilical cord floated silently about a foot off the ground. Ripples of black and gold energy spread out from it in waves. As the cord grew more complete, the power it contained intensified.

Having learned his lesson, Jenkins neither tried to leave nor touch the cord directly this time. He retreated to the shop entrance, summoned the [Twin Demons] once more, and sent it hurtling toward the floating object. An even more powerful explosion rocked the space, and Jenkins felt his consciousness blur. For the fourth time, he found himself in the false Pops Antique Shop.

The shop had been restored to its previous state, but the gray snow and venous mold were even more conspicuous. Now, a thin blanket of living flesh coated the walls, floor, and ceiling. Jenkins could see blood—or some similar fluid—pulsing through it.

It was faintly reminiscent of the scene he had witnessed outside the door in the Doomsday Mysterious Realm, though that situation had been far more perilous.

Returning to the space behind the counter, he looked down. A boy of about ten years old was curled there, hugging his knees. Just as Jenkins peered over, he heard a distinct slurp, and assumed the boy had just finished swallowing the umbilical cord.

"You can't help him."

The voice came from the doorway. It was the first human voice Jenkins had heard since entering this bizarre state.

Jenkins turned to see a man in a black trench coat and fedora push the door open and step inside. The coat was exceptionally long, its hem nearly brushing the tops of his boots as it swept across the gray snow.

He didn't look old, perhaps somewhere between thirty and thirty-five.

"Who am I supposed to be helping?"

"The thing under the counter."

the stranger replied. He remained poised at the threshold, showing no intention of venturing further into the shop.