Chapter 193: Valente’s Room
After seeing such an eerie scene, Clark couldn’t help but show a look of shock. He was too familiar with humans undergoing irreversible mutations due to the invasion of the Abnormal God’s dimensional power. Obviously, Butler Valente and Miss Hera had once opened an entrance connecting to the Abnormal God’s dimension while Clark and Mireille were busy investigating the truth of the old castle. What surprised Clark even more was that they had only undergone physiological “deformity,” but their spiritual consciousness had not been completely lost in the “deformity.”
This meant that either their original consciousness and beliefs were strong enough, or they were originally bloodthirsty and paranoid madmen.
From this perspective, Clark couldn’t help but overturn all his concerns. The two in front of him were the true villains in this Blizzard old castle.
“Casually barging into a lady’s room, even if you are a guest received by the castle, I must no longer allow you to act recklessly, Mr. Clark.” Butler Valente’s cold gaze fixed on Clark as he grinned, revealing two rows of teeth protruding from his mouth. His mouth had turned into a retractable oral apparatus.
Miss Hera cackled strangely. Although her body was deformed, her voice remained coquettish. “If Mr. Clark wanted to find me, you could have just called out. Why go to such unnecessary trouble? If possible, I really want to fuse together with you first.”
Clark silently declined Miss Hera’s “kindness.” His palms were sweating as he tried his best to stay calm and questioned, “You used the demon-subduing technique again just now, didn’t you?”
“You do know about it… No wonder your performance has been so strange.” Butler Valente raised an eyebrow, then he noticed the cat tooth bracelet dropped on the floor, a playful expression appearing on his face. “Hey, but looking at you like this, it seems you haven’t fully understood yet. In that case, no problem…”
“What riddle are you talking about? What do you know?” Clark frowned tightly. Seeing Valente’s expression, the other seemed to know more things.
“If you want to know, then join us.” Miss Hera smiled, but suddenly began to shed tears. She spread her arms as if welcoming his arrival, but her hand still tightly gripped the kitchen knife that had scratched his chin.
Clark’s scalp went numb. Even if he died, he wouldn’t want to fuse together with them. He also figured it out: although Butler Valente and Miss Hera had fused together due to anomalous power, the one mainly dominating the body was still Butler Valente. He grabbed something nearby and threw it at Butler Valente.
Valente sneered coldly. His neck suddenly extended eerily and turned purple, like an elastic rubber band that could whip around. With a flick of his head, he knocked away the stool, pillow, and other things Clark had thrown, then opened his deformed mouth, emitting a strange roar, and charged at Clark. His mouth opened hugely, as if transforming into an unidentified beast wearing human skin.
Clark dodged desperately. While evading, he accidentally knocked over the lit oil lamp in the room. The flames ignited the room’s fabrics, and the oil fire spread the blaze. Soon, the entire room was brightly lit by the firelight, burning hot.
Perhaps even Valente hadn’t anticipated the fire accident. The moment the fire started, it froze in place for two seconds. This brief gap allowed Clark to scramble out of the room.
Clark kept running nonstop. More terrifying roars came from behind, cold sweat continuously emerging from his back like bamboo shoots after spring rain. He gritted his teeth and ran headlong, but slowly felt the roaring getting farther away.
“Didn’t catch up?” Clark hid in some unknown room in the castle. He pressed his ear to the door but heard no footsteps of running. First puzzled, then his facial expression changed. “Oh no, could they have found Miss Mireille?”
Clark instinctively wanted to rush back to save her, but when he placed his hand on the door handle to open the door, his movements suddenly stiffened and stopped. With a dejected look, he thought: If Miss Mireille really was in trouble, it would be too late even if he went back now.
He felt some pain and sadness, but he restrained these emotions. Right now, he needed more calm and reason to survive.
Looking around the room he had burst into, Clark searched and observed inside the room, hoping to find some useful item for self-defense here.
The current situation was something even Clark hadn’t anticipated. Valente and Hera, whom he thought wouldn’t team up, not only conspired but also fused together! Even more terrifying was that under the influence of anomalous power, they had become mutants with superhuman abilities. This was no longer an opponent that he and Mireille, two humans, could defeat together.
Rather than thinking about victory, it was better to think about how to delay the time before reporting to the Grim Reaper.
The room wasn’t large, about the same size as the bedroom where Clark was staying. The furnishings inside were extremely neat, neat to a somewhat perfect degree, spotless. Every item inside was placed very orderly, orderly to a somewhat perverted degree. The books on the bookshelf were categorized, and the room’s owner had even arranged them meticulously by color depth, size, and thickness. There wasn’t a single wrinkle on the bed linens. The items neatly placed on the desk had all been angle-corrected… Everything here was full of obsessive-compulsive disorder handiwork.
Obsessive-compulsive disorder also meant extreme control desire. Clark sensed that the owner of this room was abnormal, and he discovered that everything inside was spotlessly clean. The water cup on the desk contained hot water, clearly indicating someone lived there.
Ruling out it being a girl’s room, Clark realized this might be Butler Valente’s room.
Clark immediately raised his vigilance. He solemnly rummaged through Butler Valente’s desk and finally saw Valente’s name written neatly on a notebook, confirming the room’s owner’s identity.
Flipping open that notebook, Clark didn’t see memories, but saw Butler Valente’s terrifying thoughts.
This notebook was like that of a laboratory researcher, daily observing and recording the changes of the experimental subject. Butler Valente’s observation target was everyone in the castle, including his master Bluebeard the Count.
“Hm? Why is this line… the line recording Kander particularly crossed out?” Clark discovered something strange in the notebook. The records inside, even including himself, were filled with detailed information without a single misspelling or omission. But strangely, the line of data recording “Kander” was magically crossed out, which went against an obsessive-compulsive personality.
Based on the discoveries in the secret chamber, most of the servants in the castle and the castle’s guests should have already become materials for the demon-subduing technique. If crossing out Kander meant “dealt with,” then logically there should be more than just Kander crossed out.
Therefore, Clark guessed that crossing out Kander’s data line had another reason.
Thinking of this, Clark remembered that he had also brought out the demon-subduing technique usage records from the secret chamber, so he took out the experimental record notebook again and flipped through it. This time, he found a possible answer.
“This record doesn’t have Kander’s name… Kander didn’t die from the demon-subduing technique.” Clark murmured. Another possibility emerged in his mind. “But he isn’t alive either. Instead, he died at someone else’s hand, and his corpse couldn’t be found.”
