"I wonder if we can find sothing?" the Commander pondered curiously.
Deep inside the ship's cabin, in a room with tallic walls, only the dim light of candles flickered.
A woman's silhouette swayed in the candlelight; she sat sternly at a table.
Anyone familiar would be quite surprised, as the woman in front of them was the renowned Magic Eye Witch, Isra, known for being "mysterious" and "composed."
But the current Isra was disheveled, her pupils bloodshot, her breathing rapid, far from "composed."
Isra stared intently at the tabletop. On the dark wooden table, deep grooves ford the shape of a hexagram, within which Red rcury flowed slowly, exuding a cold aura.
On the hexagram Array, silver tarot cards piled up into small towers, but the center of the Array was empty, occupied only by a blank tarot card.
Isra muttered an unknown language, and a mysterious Energy was drawn from her, infusing into the Array; her black hair visibly whitening at an observable rate.
Finally, the Red rcury reached the center. The back of the blank tarot card was soaked in Red rcury, emitting a hazy white glow.
A figure slowly surfaced on the tarot card, wearing a white robe, ford in a crucifix, with a halo blooming behind the head.
A flash of joy crossed Isra's eyes; as a "Peeker," she could glimpse into the future.
Such an Ability was innate, almost impossible to acquire through external ans.
However, a "Peeker" could train and continuously strengthen this Ability, eventually achieving the effect of "predicting the future."
She was predicting the victor of the apocalypse's battle; now, the gradually erging figure of God on the tarot card was an answer that spoke volus.
Sudden fear exploded within Isra, and she covered her mouth to stifle a scream.
Previously, the tarot card had only revealed the right side, but now the entire figure of God erged.
On the right side, the halo was densely packed, but the left side of the figure was withered like a corpse, dried up with black viscous liquid flowing therefrom. This liquid almost seed alive, forming ghastly, grinning faces.
A decaying God?!
Isra suddenly realized sothing, her pupils dilating sharply, and she instinctively recoiled, knocking over a stool behind her.
But there was no sound of the stool hitting the ground; instead, a hand reached out from the darkness, steadying the stool.
Isra's heart trembled, she was alone in this room; where did this other person co from?
At the sa ti, she detected a strong sll of blood.
The sll of blood almost filled the room, indicating that it wasn't recent but had lingered for a while; why hadn't she noticed it before?
She no longer had ti to ponder these questions and dashed towards the doorway.
On her frantic run, she glanced behind using her peripheral vision, the faint candlelight casting the silhouette of a tall figure, wearing tattered overalls and a hockey mask, through the mask's slits, a pair of extrely cold eyes peered out.
A suffocating sense of oppression weighed upon her, making Isra feel as if she weighed a thousand pounds, her hand gripping the doorknob trembling uncontrollably.
The heavy tal door creaked open, Isra's eyes flashed with relief, but the next second, the expression on her face froze as a head dropped down, blood splattering about, the candlelight reflecting Isra's lifeless face.
Jason held the machete and stood in the shadows, silent as ever; for him, killing was nothing out of the ordinary.
He was covered in blood, which clearly didn't belong to him or Xu Yi; they both possessed Hyper Accelerated Regeneration, healing their wounds before any blood could splatter.
This blood belonged to others, and from its viscosity, Jason had killed at least dozens.
Jason walked slowly to the center table, staring at the tarot cards on the surface. A bloody fla rose from the card labeled "Decaying God," spreading gradually until it devoured the entire room.
Amidst the sea of bloody flas, Jason took a slow deep breath, slling not the room full of smoke, but the scent of his next target.
Rapid footsteps ca from outside the door, and the tal door was pushed open, but by then, Jason had vanished, leaving only a corpse behind.
The cold seawater washed over Jason's body as he looked around in confusion. Normally, the Spatial Force would transport him directly in front of his target; this ti, inexplicably, it had failed.
Jason looked up to see the underside of the silver cabin, adorned with stone-carved tentacles that resembled so kind of decoration, but he knew they were living organisms.
These tentacles originated from the Eight Monster House; the Noting was built around the Eight Monster House as its core, supplented by an Array.
Since the interior of the Eight Monster House was in a Different Space, encased by spatial barriers, it was only natural that spatial traversal would fail.
Jason stared at the tentacles beneath the ship, a faint blood light emitting from the Ancient God Mark between his eyebrows. In the next second, the tentacles lted away like ice and snow, revealing a large hole big enough for a person to pass through.
The entire process was silent and without pain, the tentacles even maintained their disguise.
Jason swam towards the opening, his figure gradually disappearing.
The room, dominated by shades of pink, appeared exceptionally cozy. Jason stood in a corner's shadow, staring at the figure in front of the desk.
It was a little girl who appeared to be only two or three years old, emanating a familiar bloodline aura, a scent that Jason found repulsive.
Xiaoyu was the only one in the room; everyone else was busy combating the Dark Creatures, and besides, this area was the most heavily guarded on the Noting.
Nobody would expect that such tight security, ford by the Eight Monster House and an Array, could be breached so easily without even triggering an alarm.
Xiaoyu's current state was strange, halfway between sleep and waking, her eyes devoid of life as though she was sleepwalking.
Yet deep in her pupils, a platinum sun slowly rotated.
Jason's focus wasn't on Xiaoyu; he was staring at sothing behind Xiaoyu's head. Only those with extraordinary perception could see the creature there.
The creature had the upper body of an angel but the lower half of a black snake, its tail coiled around Xiaoyu's right arm.
It wasn't a re oddity but sothing akin to "Intent," though not ordinary malice—it was purer, more advanced.
Simply put, it could be seen as the physical representation of Xiaoyu's Talent.
The deceased Isra would have been very familiar with it since Xiaoyu was also a "Peeker," possessing a far stronger Talent than Isra.
Xiaoyu lay on the table, her right hand holding a paintbrush.
Driven by the "Intent," the paintbrush moved swiftly, gradually revealing a painting while Jason gripped his machete tighter.
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