Chapter 481: Amon: The Perfect Combination of Night and Stars
Today's newspaper did not have the latest updates on the war between the Kingdom of Ruen and the Feysac Empire. Instead, it was filled with gossip about the nobility, various incidents, and recent scientific advancements.
Without any major news, the newspaper sales were particularly slow today.
A young man riding a bicycle with a gray bag had only sold 12 newspapers from dawn until noon.
He earned 1 penny for every four newspapers sold, making a total of 3 pennies, which was just enough to buy a small piece of bread for lunch.
Indeed, the young man went to a bakery, took out his 3 pennies, and tried to buy a lemon-flavored cake.
"Sir, if you're looking to fill your stomach, this black bread would be a more suitable choice," the female shop assistant kindly suggested.
"But I just want to try its taste."
"I'm sorry, but 3 pennies are not enough to buy it. Please choose something more practical."
"Alright then."
The young man regretfully put away his 3 pennies, adjusted his monocle, glanced at the bakery, and then rode away on his bicycle, humming a tune.
As he rode through the streets and alleys, he passed by the entrance of the Church of Storms, made a deliberate turn, and muttered, "Next time, I'll have to steal this church."
As night fell, people who had been out working returned home like birds to their nests.
The young man, who had been selling newspapers on his bicycle, also returned to his residence with 8 pennies in his pocket.
"Bakerland Street, this place isn't bad," he remarked.
He parked his bicycle in a corner, thoughtfully locked it, and then walked away contentedly.
He wandered the streets like a vagrant, occasionally squatting down to observe ants crawling on the ground.
He extended a finger to play with an ant that was flustered by a puddle ahead. Soon, the ant took on his shape, and the birds resting in the trees seemed to wear monocles as well.
"This place seems to have some interesting prey," he said, looking up at House No. 39, the home of Congressman Macht.
He somehow produced a blooming rose, plucking its petals one by one, muttering, "Spare him, eat him, spare him, eat him…"
When he finished the last petal, he happened to say, "Spare him."
This was clearly not the result he wanted. He frowned slightly, but soon, a petal blew in from afar, and he smiled, "Eat him."
At night, on the second-floor balcony of Congressman Macht's house, Hayrol was feeding her teacher cheese and sausage, with a small dish of milk on the side.
"Teacher, eat slowly. If it's not enough, I'll get more. I'll make sure you're full."
"Hmph, this food…" The mouse, respectfully called "teacher," spoke disdainfully but suddenly froze, as if sensing something incredible. A small piece of yellow cheese fell from its front paws.
"Teacher, teacher, what's wrong?"
Hayrol called out anxiously, but her teacher darted under the table, then along the floor, and down the drainpipe to the first floor, running as if something terrifying was chasing it.
"Teacher, wait for me!"
Hayrol hurried after her teacher, fearing something might happen to it.
They left the balcony, the garden, and entered a nearby grove.
There, Hayrol saw a black cat on the roof of a four-story building, leisurely moving while keeping its eyes on her fleeing teacher.
No wonder her teacher reacted so strongly; a cat had appeared.
Hayrol wanted to climb the roof to chase away the cat, but it was impractical.
She followed her teacher into the grove and was shocked to find her teacher had turned into a tree, surrounded by gray mice as if guarding it.
"Cat, cat, cat…"
The tree trembled, its branches and leaves shaking, overwhelmed by the deep-seated fear of its natural enemy.
"Teacher, don't worry. I'm here to protect you. No cat will harm you."
Hayrol's comforting words helped the tree regain some sanity.
"I shouldn't have parasitized a mouse's body," the tree muttered.
Its bark peeled away, revealing red-glowing eyes that looked at Hayrol with deep greed.
"My time may be running out."
"You'll be fine, teacher."
"I'm not as optimistic as you."
"But it's better to be optimistic. Being too desperate is too pitiful."
A voice came from nowhere, putting Hayrol on high alert. Despite her trembling legs, she stood protectively in front of her teacher.
"Really?" The tree's previously venomous voice calmed, showing a hint of confusion, as if being persuaded.
At that moment, Hayrol saw a figure emerge from the bushes. He laughed, "Relax, I can stop your loss of control if you follow my instructions."
The newcomer wore a black coat, black pants, and black shoes, with a thin face, a tall hat, and a distinctive monocle, looking very refined.
Hayrol wanted to ask, "Who are you?" but fear paralyzed her, making her step aside, allowing her teacher to face the newcomer.
The man glanced at Hayrol before focusing on the tree, smiling, "Are you a descendant of the Jacob family?"
"Yes, do you know my ancestor?" the mouse inside the tree asked weakly.
The man stroked his chin, recalling something, then smiled, "Of course."
"They tasted quite good."
The Jacob descendant fell silent for a few seconds before exclaiming in horror, "You, you're the Blasphemer Amon!"
Strange insects with seven or eight segments crawled out of the tree's holes.
The translucent parts of the insects had intricate patterns, and time seemed to flow through their segments.
But soon, they stiffened and froze.
The gray mice around them also lay prostrate, not daring to move.
Amon adjusted his monocle and smiled, "Too late, isn't it?"
"If you had struggled from the start, it might have worked, but now, you didn't think I came alone, did you?"
As he spoke, the bushes shook, leaves rustled, and birds perched on branches, chirping.
Then, a cat's meow pierced the stillness.
A group of cats, black, mottled, chestnut, white, and more, appeared, pouncing on the birds.
Under the starlit sky, the crimson moon and stars shone through the clouds, casting their light on the earth.
Seeing the change, the desperate Jacob descendant's survival instinct kicked in.
More translucent insects emerged from the tree, causing a brief time freeze.
Taking advantage of this, the tree reverted to a mouse and fled deeper into the woods.
Amon raised an eyebrow, looked at the starry sky, and watched his fleeing prey without chasing, chuckling, "Night and stars, a perfect combination."
The cats also left, and peace returned.
Only Hayrol and Amon remained.
"Seems your teacher doesn't care for you as much as you thought."
Amon's smile terrified Hayrol. She instinctively stepped back, legs weak, and fell, eyes full of fear.
"What should I do with you?"
"I, you…"
Hayrol was too scared to speak.
"Since your teacher ran away, you can call me teacher. I'm very good at teaching."
Amon laughed, and Hayrol's eyes glazed over. When she looked at Amon again, she eagerly said, "Teacher, let's leave. I know a safe place."
"Alright."
Amon adjusted his monocle and naturally followed Hayrol.
At 160 Bakerland Street, Klein had already left by carriage.
Earlier, he sensed something was wrong, and a black cat delivered a note with one word: "Here."
Though brief, Klein understood it meant Amon was in Bakerland and very close!