Investigation Report of the Gods

Chapter 89: The Sound of Copper

『No other way...』

Han Su did see the little girl in the bathtub—it was just bad timing.

Only after Han Su’s figure swiftly passed by the bathtub and dashed out the door, which slammed shut with a loud bang, did the girl in the bathtub finally react. Her vacant gaze drifted over, revealing a look of utter despair.

Inside the room, the Worm Monk remained unmoved by the key being snatched away. Though normally slow and wooden, at this moment his movements were unexpectedly swift.

Without needing the aid of any insects, his hands rapidly caught and placed one jar after another midair, gently returning them onto the table.

Not even the original placements of those jars were off by a hair.

Only after all the jars were arranged neatly back on the table did he slowly straighten up and softly exhale.

The insects on his body all rose upright, one by one. Countless mouthparts pulsed and expanded.

A fine airflow reverberated through the air, as if lodging a complaint to him.

Yet the Worm Monk only furrowed his brows and slowly turned his gaze toward a direction—the very direction the large, fat cat had disappeared. He seemed deep in thought, but could not recall anything.

Eventually, he simply picked up the book and sat down to read again, as if to pass the time, while a faint and indistinct word slipped from his lips.

……

……

“The door, the door should appear now...”

Having fled the room, Han Su clutched the key tightly in his hand, with no time to look back to see whether the Worm Monk would give chase. He poured every ounce of strength into repeating this one sentence, lifting his head in hope.

Sure enough, at the far end of the corridor, about twenty meters away, the escape door had appeared, silently waiting for him.

『Thank you, cat with Spiritual Sensitivity...』

Joy surged through his heart as he sincerely thought, 『No, it’s the Duke!』

He never imagined that the hope of escape in the end would rely on this particularly unreliable-looking cat.

Fortunately, before returning to this ancient castle, he had learned the Zero Sequence Invisibility Spell. Otherwise, no matter how hard he racked his brains, he wouldn’t have thought of a way to steal the key from the Worm Monk.

Even now, he dared not relax, throwing all his strength into rushing toward the end of the corridor.

His perked ears did not catch the sound of the door behind being opened. The Worm Monk seemed not to be pursuing, yet a certain ethereal and eerie sound echoed through the corridor. In an instant, the once-quiet corridor changed.

From the rows of twin-eared jars lining the corridor walls, countless insects suddenly burst out.

These insects seemed to have been slumbering, but in that instant, they all awakened from the soil, raising their heads. The air filled with a hissing sound.

Not just from the jars—even the corridor’s walls, the floor, even the ceiling where there had been no holes—countless insects emerged, or rather, grew out wildly.

They swarmed the jars, the corridor, the walls, twisting their heads in various poses, all turning toward Han Su in unison. Some of them even stretched their bodies frantically.

Just the dense mass of them was enough to terrify Han Su.

Feeling that the emptiness in his mind was starting to recover, Han Su didn’t hesitate. Facing the terrifying world ahead, he loudly recited the Fisherman’s Chant.

“Gods descend with their divine decree—”

This time, he only uttered the Fisherman’s Chant; even the spell that followed was unnecessary.

It was as if the surging Spiritual Power sensed the direction of his will and naturally transformed into a spell.

After a few seconds of emptiness, the “battery” had already been replaced.

In a flash, like an underground river had been connected beneath a dried-up lake, a surge of power burst forth. Han Su, who had just been forced into visibility, suddenly vanished—as if someone had erased him.

All the insects that had raised their heads fell into confusion at that instant.

As if they could no longer see Han Su’s location.

And the insects outside differed from those on the Worm Monk’s body—those could switch their forms to adjust visibility.

These corridor insects lacked that ability, and so they truly lost their target, writhing aimlessly in the corridor.

Han Su seized this chance and dashed down the hallway.

But just then, he suddenly heard a deep, strange sound—like the scraping of metal. It was rough, yet carried an air of mystery.

The sound pierced through layers of walls and drilled into his mind.

At this moment on the fifth floor, in the room filled with Bronze Armor Statues and dust, the coffin that had earlier spoken with the old butler had cracked open when Han Su first recited the Fisherman’s Chant. Yet it had remained in a daze, waiting.

Now, upon hearing Han Su recite the spell a second time, it erupted with a bang. From within the coffin, a figure sat up. An ancient pair of eyes snapped open, revealing an unfathomable, eerie bronze hue.

Sensing the echo of the Fisherman’s Chant, the fifth-floor corridor’s two rows of Bronze Armor Statues lit up with a sinister red glow.

One bronze snake after another twisted awake.

It seemed an invisible will was trying to break free from the ancient shell, surging swiftly through the corridor, even reaching the stairs—only to be bound by unseen restraints within the castle, and forced back to the fifth floor.

It could not ascend to the seventh floor, but it could sense the Fisherman’s Chant fading.

Even its arduous awakening was fading with the passage of time.

So, as it returned to the coffin, the ancient body propped itself up with a hand on the coffin’s edge and then, with difficulty, spoke. A strange, blurred sentence poured out rapidly.

Through the vibration of the bronze coffin and the castle itself, this spell spread swiftly through the solid structures, appearing instantly in the seventh-floor corridor.

……

……

Intense pain on the back of the hand!

Han Su, using the spell’s invisibility, had dodged the seventh-floor insects and was nearing the door. Yet for some unknown reason, along with the sound of metal scraping that seemed to come from nowhere, pain suddenly flared up on the back of his left hand.

But his left hand had not been injured, nor did it have a scar.

So why the sudden pain?

In his haste, he glanced down and saw that the back of his ten-year-old left hand now faintly bore a cross-shaped scar—one that glowed with an ancient bronze hue.

And as if through this scar, he could sense a voice forcefully seeping into his skin, ramming its way into his mind.

“Bronze... reflection... world...”

The voice echoed endlessly in his mind—intricate, overwhelming, completely incomprehensible. To Han Su at this moment, it sounded more like an indescribable noise.

He could only stumble and charge toward the corridor’s door, heart pounding.

He was just a few meters away from the escape door. Nearby was the stairway, and he naturally saw the Boar‑Head Monster and the Withered Butler. The Tuxedo Boy was now standing behind the Butcher.

He had just fled from here, and yet they had not left. The Withered Butler seemed to be explaining something urgently to the Boar‑Head Monster.

They heard the noise and looked up together.

Equally surprised was the Tuxedo Boy, who had been using the Butcher’s hand to block the Withered Butler.

Though unaware of what Han Su was doing, he saw the key in Han Su’s hand, then looked toward the door at the end of the hallway. He immediately recalled—there had never been a door there.

At once, he understood, and without hesitation, let go of the Butcher’s hand and sprinted upward.

The Boar‑Head Monster didn’t stop him—or rather, didn’t even think to.

In the blink of an eye, the boy was charging up the steps.

At the same time, Han Su had already inserted the key into the keyhole. Seeing the Tuxedo Boy rushing up, his heart leapt with joy, and he steadied his hand.

If it was the Tuxedo Boy, Han Su was willing to wait a moment longer—just to escape together.

But the Tuxedo Boy only took one step before his body froze. Seeing the opportunity right before him, his face showed unwillingness.

It was the Withered Butler with the eerie expression.

He reacted faster than the Boar‑Head Monster. Even while talking, his focus had been on the Tuxedo Boy. The moment he sensed his escape attempt, he flickered behind him and pressed down on his shoulder.

Resting his head on the boy’s shoulder, wearing a smile that wasn’t a smile, he stared eerily at Han Su and whispered, “So you’re the naughtiest child after all...”

“Screw your naughty...”

Han Su finally fell into despair. His eyes pulled away from the Tuxedo Boy. He could say no more to him—only leave behind that gaze full of reluctance.

Then, turning the key, he burst through the door and stumbled out of the ancient castle.