Chapter 259: Chapter 259

Jenkins gave the wooden cabin a cursory glance. After confirming the absence of any spiritual glow with his special sight, he strode across the groaning floorboards to a corner of the room. Following the guidance of fate, he pried up the floorboards with his knife and, just as he expected, found a book-like object wrapped in waterproof kraft paper.

Pinching his nose, he set the kraft paper bundle on the floor beside him, then knelt and reached his other hand into the dark void beneath the floorboards to feel around. Aside from a sticky, slimy sensation, he did indeed find something else. Tucked away in the hollow space were two exquisite glass bottles, but the liquid inside them was a murky gray. Jenkins couldn’t be sure if this was their original state or if they had simply expired. But since their spiritual aura was pitifully weak, it hardly mattered.

He carried the items out of the cabin and took a deep breath of fresh air, finally feeling a sense of relief. The stench inside that building had been truly unbearable.

He slipped the two small bottles into his coat pocket. Holding his breath, he used his knife to slice the rope binding the kraft paper bundle. Then he took several steps back, picked up a nearby branch, and prepared to prod the package open.

Suddenly, he froze, casting a suspicious look at the Treasure Elf, which was still giggling softly as it hovered nearby.

"This isn't the treasure, is it?"

The dreadful possibility dawned on Jenkins, and the hand holding the branch stiffened mid-air.

The Unknown Path was an ability exclusive to his transmigrated soul, and every time it activated, it yielded demonstrably reliable results. Jenkins hesitated for a long moment, then swallowed hard and used the branch to flick away the severed twine, unfolding the package...

A gust of wind swept through the clearing, rustling the leaves of the forest. The package lay exposed on the grass, its upturned flaps of kraft paper trembling in the breeze, but nothing happened.

The purple thread of fate pointed to a short, rolled-up note. The moment Jenkins picked it up, the thread vanished.

I have hidden myself here as you instructed, awaiting the recommencement of the "Children of the Mist" plan. On October 18th, I believe I may have encountered A-11-02-3219, the Treasure Elf. Mr. C, though I was already prepared to die, I am truly unwilling to perish here.

While listening to the whispers of my Lord, I acquired some strange knowledge. This knowledge may help me escape my predicament, but if you come looking for me and find no trace, then it means I have already died. Do not grieve, for my Lord will protect my soul, and a ship will carry me to the final Paradise Lost.

Be warned, A-11-02-3219 will manifest at least three times in a given area before disappearing. If you also encounter this misfortune upon your arrival, you can try my method. Though it may have been useless for me, the grace you have received from our Lord is far stronger. I wish you luck.

May the "Children of the Mist" plan begin again smoothly. May my Lord, the Undying King, bless me with eternal life.

P.S. If I am indeed dead, the protective ritual I set up here will likely fade quickly. I was unable to create a long-lasting one in such a short time, so please transfer the data I've left behind immediately. Do not worry; unless they are favored by fate, no one will be able to find this place. Mr. B, the Reverser of Fate, has already shifted this location's position. Without guidance, no one can reach it.

"A Reverser of Fate? Heh. What a boast."

Jenkins muttered to himself. The temperature around him was dropping rapidly again—a signal from the Treasure Elf for him to leave.

If a believer from the Church of Destiny and Equilibrium heard someone using the title "Reverser of Fate," being hanged would be the kindest fate they could hope for. To openly defy a Righteous God in one's moniker—what kind of nerve did this mortal possess to do such a thing?

He flipped the note over. On the back, W had left his method for resisting the Treasure Elf:

The Treasure Elf is a strange and terrifying phenomenon, a product born from the fusion of the forest's resentment, soul fragments, and other, more bizarre substances. A being below level eight has absolutely no hope of confronting the phantom directly, so one can only attempt to dispel the resentment. This so-called resentment is the sum of centuries of hatred from innocent people who died in this forest, combined with the forest's own resentment from the destruction it has suffered. By temporarily driving away the resentment, you can escape this place for a short time. Afterward, you must pray for the gaze of a deity. If they mercifully bestow their grace, you can eliminate the mark left on you by A-11-02-3219. As long as you never set foot here again, it will no longer haunt you.

"Dispel the resentment?"

Jenkins repeated the words. "Couldn't you have been more specific? How am I supposed to dispel the resentment?!" Google seaʀᴄh novel✶fire.net

He perplexedly read the note again, but there were no further clues. The guidance of fate was over, which meant he had all the information he was going to get. If this was like previous times, then he should have what he needed to resolve the crisis.

"What have I done recently?"

He considered his actions over the day, but the only thing that seemed like a game-changer was Chocolate returning to the city.

He stood up and instinctively took a step to his left. His vision blurred, the scene before him shifted, and when he looked back, he found himself at least ten feet from where the package lay.

Jenkins stared grimly at the Treasure Elf, then quickly averted his gaze. Its face was now impossible to look at directly. Its supernaturally augmented ugliness now held a bizarre, inexplicable allure.

In that fleeting moment, Jenkins had nearly lost himself to the pull of its eyes, which were like two bottomless wells.

After that, the situation grew even worse. Even when Jenkins sat perfectly still on the ground, the very earth beneath him seemed to move, constantly shifting him forward.

It was impossible to tell if it was teleportation or some more mysterious power, but by the fourth time his position had changed, he could faintly see the wooden cabin through the trees. At the same time, a spring appeared in another clearing.

If the hunter's cabin had been built by human hands and gradually merged with the forest environment, then this spring—with its white marble base and flanking statues of an angel and a demon carved from jade—was clearly something that did not belong in this forest.

"This is the treasure?"

Jenkins realized it at once. Listening to the gurgling of the spring water, his heart sank to the lowest possible point.

He couldn't wait for Chocolate. Just one more shift in position, and the moment he touched that spring, he would be dead.

"Purify the resentment, is it..."