Chapter 151: Chapter 151

Professor Burns bent over, carefully selecting a bamboo pole. He then lit a fresh paraffin lamp, hung it from the end of the pole, and slowly approached the door.

He guided the pole through the crack in the door. The flickering flame of the paraffin lamp illuminated the space within.

The two men gasped simultaneously, then turned to each other with expressions of sheer terror. At that exact moment, the lamp inside the door went out.

The professor swallowed hard, then pulled the pole back. He took several steps away, putting distance between himself and Jenkins.

"A lot of bodies," Jenkins said. "Papa Oliver's, my family's, the Bishop's, my friends'... and... yours."

As Jenkins spoke, he scrutinized the professor with his Eye of Reality. The color, number, and motion of the light spots in his aura were all completely normal.

"I also saw a lot of bodies, all dead in gruesome ways," the professor replied. "But they weren't exactly the same people you mentioned. I saw my students, the Bishop, my colleagues, my friends... and... your body."

"It's fake," Jenkins stated with certainty.

"Of course it's fake. This is such a crude trick," the professor agreed. "If the bodies inside belonged to strangers, I might have suspected this door was A-12-1-0089, the Door to the Land of the Dead. But since we saw different things, it must be an illusion. It can't scare me!"

As he spoke, he relit the extinguished paraffin lamp, but this time he handed the bamboo pole to Jenkins.

Jenkins understood. He hung his own lamp from the pole's end and once again pushed it through the crack.

The same sound escaped their lips. Jenkins instinctively wanted to rush forward but immediately stopped himself, grabbing the professor who was about to lurch inside. Check latest chapters at novᴇlfire.net

"An illusion! It's an illusion!" he emphasized in a low voice.

"Yes, an illusion," the professor said, closing his eyes and repeating the words. "Those books can't possibly be here. The Tower would never allow them to leave."

The professor stamped his feet lightly on the ground, taking several deep breaths before finally letting out a sigh of relief.

"Great Sage, this is a temptation!"

"An absolute temptation!" Jenkins nodded. "I saw a pile of gold. It's safe to assume this illusion is trying to tempt us."

As he spoke, he surreptitiously pinched his own thigh with his free left hand, trying desperately to calm himself. What he had just seen was the apartment he had rented for so long in his past life. Next to the bulky CRT monitor, the dust-covered computer case was still humming softly.

The paraffin lamp, predictably, went out again. Jenkins had first assumed it was a lack of oxygen inside, but the door had been open for a while now, and the lamp had been close to the opening. There was no reason for it to extinguish so quickly.

He drew back the pole, relit the lamp, and waited for the flame to stabilize before turning to the professor, who was lost in thought.

"What should we do? I think rushing in would be too risky, but just waiting out here seems pointless."

"You're absolutely right," the professor nodded, pulling a cigarette from his jacket pocket. He didn't light it, but instead held it under his nose and took a deep breath before putting it away again.

"Let's look one more time. One more time to see what's really behind that door. The book I found never mentioned the owner of this place being an Enchanter, so it's impossible for him to have set up a mechanism that could create illusions. Perhaps... something unexpected has happened here over the years."

"Alright, then. Let's make a pact right now. No matter what we see, we will not enter that door," Jenkins proposed.

He hung his paraffin lamp back onto the end of the bamboo pole.

"Agreed. I got a little too excited just now... my apologies."

Although they couldn't feel the slightest breeze, the moment the lamp passed through the doorway, the flame inside the glass casing began to flicker violently.

Jenkins and Professor Burns leaned in, peering through the crack into the room beyond. But this time, until the flame died out completely, neither of them said a word.

In Jenkins's eyes, the flame had illuminated a bare, quiet room. A pale version of Jenkins himself stood in the darkness, his face positioned directly behind the paraffin lamp. Just before the light vanished, he had whispered:

"Why did you kill me?"

Jenkins pulled the pole back and looked at the professor. His face was just as grim and terrible as Jenkins felt.

"Should we look again? Or should we leave now and let the Church handle it?" Jenkins finally asked after a long silence.

"One more try," the professor said, gritting his teeth. "There's some information in there that I absolutely must have. The Church doesn't grant low-level Enchanters like us access to materials about the mysteries of the epoch, so I have to find them myself. If I miss this chance, I might never get another one!"

"There are materials like that in there?" Jenkins asked, surprised. If that was true, then he had to take a look as well.

"Yes, most likely. The owner of this place was a renowned historian of his era. I believe the 'treasure' he left behind will contain some of the things I need."

"But... it's been nearly a thousand years. All that paper..."

"Couldn't he have carved it onto stone or metal?" the professor retorted. Jenkins was stunned into silence.

"This umbrella," the professor said, gesturing with the black umbrella in his hand. "When it's open, anyone beneath it is protected. During that time, they are immune to mental interference, poison gas, curses, and the like. In a moment, I'll tie a rope around my waist, and you'll hold the other end. I'll open the umbrella, step inside, you'll count to one, and then immediately pull me back."

The professor brandished the umbrella, his eyes filled with a grim resolve that was eerily similar to the expression he'd worn in the Mysterious Realm when he was giving Jenkins his final instructions.

"There's no need to be so reckless. That's too dangerous," he quickly urged. Jenkins didn't have many friends he felt close to, and he didn't want to see this respectable old man die here.

"There should be some jewels and gold inside. Once we find it, we'll split it three to one."

"No, you misunderstand. That's not what I meant. I mean, I might have another way," Jenkins said, waving his hands frantically. The professor was trying to tempt him.

"Oh? You have another way? That's wonderful! And by the way, what did you misunderstand? I was just trying to say that we should agree on a split beforehand to prevent us from turning on each other after we find something. I saw that happen far too many times when I was young."

Jenkins's face flushed red as he realized he had judged the man with his own cynical heart. But still—

"'Saw it happen too many times when you were young?' What did you do, Professor?"

He glanced at the pile of equipment in the corner, his mind conjuring images of certain specialized underground professions. But based on what he had heard, the professor had always been a teacher. Perhaps he had simply heard stories while participating in some archaeological digs.