Travel through time, and then establish an anomaly management bureau!

Page 49

The shop owner froze, staring at Karl's face with surprise and uncertainty, thinking, "Why is his face so swollen? Did I hit him too hard? Uh... no, that's not right, I didn't hit that spot."

Just as the atmosphere became awkward and tense, Zhang Su suddenly laughed, a laugh that Karl found colder than the wind in the city of Miga.

"Let's forget about the apology," Zhang Su said calmly, his gaze fixed on Karl. "However, my shoes happen to have some mud on them." He pointed to his old leather shoes, which were indeed stained with coal dust and mud, from just walking out of the alley. "How about this kid wipes them for me as an apology? What do you say?"

Upon hearing this, the shop owner immediately became wary. What if Karl made things difficult for this customer, or even used the opportunity to retaliate, by shining his shoes alone?

He quickly put on a smile and said, "Oh, sir, you're too kind! This is such a small thing, no need to trouble the shop's 'apprentice'. I'll polish it for you! I guarantee it will be sparkling clean!" As he spoke, he went to get his tools.

“No,” Zhang Su raised his hand to stop him, his tone gentle but firm, “Let this young man do the wiping. He seems quite clever. Don’t worry, I won’t make things difficult for a child; it’s just wiping shoes.”

Looking at Zhang Su's calm expression and then at Karl's near-fainting state, the shop owner hesitated for a moment.

He dared not confront the guest directly, but he could not completely ignore Karl either.

He could only manage a forced smile: "Well... alright then. Carl! Did you hear me? Polish the gentleman's shoes properly! Be quick and don't make any more mistakes!"

As he spoke, he squeezed Carl's shoulder hard, leaned close to his ear, and whispered quickly in a voice only the two of them could hear: "Be smart! If he gives you trouble, shout loudly! Shout for help! The neighbors are watching, he won't dare to go too far! I'll be inside, listening to the commotion, and I'll come out to help you!"

Karl shuddered, like a startled rabbit, and could only nod stiffly.

The shop owner glanced at Karl with concern, then gave Zhang Su a forced smile before turning and hurrying back into the shop, his ears perked up, constantly watching the sounds coming from the doorway.

Zhang Su walked to the low wooden stool at the entrance of the shoe store, where customers could sit and try on shoes and have their shoes polished. He sat down calmly and stretched out his muddy feet.

Karl, pale-faced and with icy hands and feet, moved to the small stool next to him where his tools were kept and sat down.

He picked up a relatively clean soft cloth and a small can of cheap shoe polish, his hands trembling so badly he could barely hold the brush.

He squatted down, head down, not daring to look at Zhang Su's face, and with trembling fingers, began to carefully wipe the dust off the surface of Zhang Su's leather shoes.

The movements were stiff and slow, each touch feeling like touching a red-hot iron.

Occasionally, passersby would pass by in the alley, glancing curiously at this strange pair: a well-dressed man sitting in front of a small, shabby shoe shop, and a young apprentice with a swollen face, trembling like a quail as he polished his shoes.

The air seemed to freeze, with only Karl's heavy breathing and the faint rustling of soft cloth against leather.

After wiping for a while, most of the mud on the shoes was gone, but Carl was still mechanically and repeatedly wiping the same spot, his inner fear almost overwhelming him.

At this moment, Zhang Su finally spoke up: "Don't be so nervous, little guy. I'm not going to eat you."

Carl froze as he polished his shoes, his heart nearly leaping out of his throat.

Zhang Su continued, "It just so happens that we bumped into each other, and I happened to have something I wanted to ask you. I'll leave after I ask, I won't do anything to you."

Karl looked up, his voice trembling uncontrollably: "Really...really, sir? You...you won't hit me again, will you?"

Seeing his terrified expression, Zhang Su gently shook his head and smiled, "Of course not. I said I wouldn't make things difficult for you. And... if you answer the question well, I'll give you a little tip. Enough for you to buy some food, or... some ointment for that little injury on your face?"

Tip, ointment?

These words instantly struck a chord with Karl's most practical needs.

Although the fear was still there, the instinct for survival and the boy's need for "benefits" made his eyes flash with struggle and hesitation.

He looked at Zhang Su, seemingly trying to discern the truth in this capricious and powerful man's words. The pedestrians on the street and the shop owners seemed to embolden him a little.

He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing, and with all his might, he forced out a fawning smile that looked more like a grimace: "Please...please ask, sir. I...I will answer you properly."

Volume Two: Chapter 4: The Source of the River, the Seven Great Churches of God

Looking at Karl's thin, worn-out cotton-padded coat and his fingers, which were slightly red from the cold, Zhang Su asked, "Karl, you just said that you usually have legitimate jobs? Like right now, the shoe store apprenticeship you're doing."

Carl paused, lowered his head further, and said in a muffled voice, "Yes...yes, sir. Terry...uh, I mean, we usually have work when we're not out on the streets. It's only when...only when we're really starving, or if we happen to run into someone like you...looking...uh..."

He seemed unable to find the right words, and his face turned red.

"Looks like someone easy to bully and rich?" Zhang Su finished for him, his tone flat, revealing no emotion.

Karl's body visibly stiffened, and his shoe-shining movements quickened, tinged with panic: "I'm...I'm sorry, sir! We...we really..."

"Alright, let's not talk about the past." Zhang Su waved his hand, signaling him to continue. "Tell me about your 'legitimate jobs.' What do you do? Besides shining shoes."

Carl seemed relieved and answered in a low voice, "Terriggs is an apprentice at the 'Iron Gear' factory. He has to move those heavy gear blanks every day, and his hands are often cut."

"Barton worked in the kitchen of the 'Smokestack' pub, washing dishes and emptying swill... Little Jimmy worked as a night watchman in the dock warehouse with 'One-Eyed Joe,' which was basically helping to watch the rats and sleeping on the piles of goods."

"Big Will worked as a temporary worker at the Steam Heating and Ventilation Company, climbing chimneys and unclogging steam pipes—it was dirty and dangerous."

"Skinny Billy was helping 'Fish Granny' Susan clean fish at the market, scaling and gutting them, and he reeked of fish."

"And then there's 'Red Bump' Allen, who works as a courier for 'Fast Foot' postal company, delivering letters and packages. He works himself to death and only earns a dozen or so pfennigs a day..."

Carl recounted his partners' livelihoods as if they were his own, his voice devoid of complaint, only displaying the numb resignation of someone from the lower class.

Every job is tinged with hardship, humility, and meager income.

Zhang Su listened silently. Every job title and detail that Karl mentioned seemed to be a footnote to the lives of the lower class in this gloomy city.

He waited for Carl to finish speaking before slowly opening his mouth, his voice lower and more subdued: "It doesn't sound like you have it easy. You probably don't earn much, right?"

Carl rubbed the tips of his shoes hard and muttered, "Hmm. A gear factory apprentice earns a maximum of 12 pfennigs a day, washing dishes 10 pfennigs, keeping watch over mice 8 pfennigs, cleaning chimneys is paid by the piece, and if you're lucky you can get 15 pfennigs, cleaning fish is done by the basket, 3 pfennigs a basket... A messenger who runs errands might only get 20 pfennigs a day at most."

He quoted prices precisely in pennies; these numbers were ingrained in their very being.

Another silence fell, broken only by the rustling sound of rags rubbing against leather.

A cold wind blew coal dust across the street corner.

Zhang Su then asked, "What about your parents? Are they still alive?"

When he asked this question, he already had a general idea in mind: their family situations must not be very good.

Carl's hands, which were polishing his shoes, suddenly stopped.

He kept his head down, and his shoulders shrugged slightly.

After several seconds, he answered in an almost inaudible voice: "Among us, Jimmy's parents are still alive, working in the laundry room, so tired they can't straighten their backs. The others... Barton's father died in the dock accident, and his mother died of illness."

“Will’s parents both died of ‘black lung disease’ in the coal mine processing plant; Billy only has an alcoholic father who has long since abandoned him; Alan’s mother ran away with someone else, and his father froze to death under a bridge last winter…”

His voice trailed off, until it was almost a whisper, “When my parents were very young, the factory boiler… exploded…”

After hearing this, Zhang Su sighed softly: "What about Terry? His parents..."

“Terry…” Carl sniffed, trying not to let his voice tremble, “He’s like me. Both our parents are gone. He’s the oldest among us, so he has to lead us to find a way to survive…”

A long, suffocating silence enveloped the two of them.

Carl stopped talking and just polished his shoes even harder, as if trying to knead all his sadness and helplessness into the thin layer of shoe polish.

Zhang Su remained silent, his gaze fixed on the massive factory chimneys spewing steam in the distance, where countless stories like those of Karl and Terry were buried.

Only the howling of the cold wind and the distant roar of steam engines served as background noise.

After a while, Karl seemed to finally control his emotions, and his movements returned to their previous rhythm.

Zhang Su then spoke again, his voice very soft: "Where do you usually live? In the slums?"

“Hmm,” Carl responded. “Over there, ‘Rusty Ditch.’ It’s the shack area behind the gear factory, near the old riverbed. Go all the way to the end, turn into ‘Rat Trail,’ and the third row of the most dilapidated shacks are the ones we pooled our money to rent.”

“'Rusty Ditch'... Rat's Path..." Zhang Su listened to this vivid place name and his eyes seemed to be deep in thought.

He paused, then asked, "Have any strange things happened over there? I mean, weird things? Like hearing strange noises at night, seeing things you shouldn't have seen, paranormal events, or anything like that?"

Carl's shoe-shining hand slowed down again. He looked up, and for the first time, he looked at Zhang Su with a hint of confusion.

Why did this "kind-hearted" but ruthless Mr. Xi suddenly become interested in the ghost stories of Lu Yiyi from the slums?

He thought for a moment, then tentatively asked, "You mean... ghost stories? The kind that scare children?"

Zhang Su nodded, thinking that this kid knew the term "strange tales," saving him the trouble of explaining.

“Yes,” he nodded, his tone becoming more relaxed, “like that. What’s the most famous ghost story from your area? Tell me about it?”

A cold wind swirled around the narrow entrance of "Iron Palm Shoe Shop," carrying fine coal dust.

The pungent smell of cheap shoe polish mixed with leather seemed to linger for a moment.

Karl's thin body shrank slightly on the stool. He unconsciously rubbed his reddened knuckles with his hands, which he had just used to polish shoes. His eyes were somewhat unfocused, as if he were searching for something in the corner of his memory.

In the silence that lasted for more than ten seconds, there was only the monotonous roar of the steam engine in the distance and the sound of pedestrians stepping over the sewage puddles in the alley.

Finally, he licked his chapped lips, his voice low and hoarse, with a quality typical of a teenager trying to create an atmosphere when imitating an elder telling a ghost story:

"Sir, if we're talking about the most famous ghost story over at 'Rusty Ditch'... then... then it must be 'Clean Water River' and the treasure at its end..."

He paused, stealing a glance at Zhang Su's expression. Seeing that the other was simply looking at him calmly, he continued, slowing his speech even further, as if afraid of disturbing the story:

“Everyone says… right behind our shed, that 'rusty ditch' that used to be dirty, smelly, and full of garbage… it… has a tributary, a very short section, and it’s really strange! No matter if the water flowing down from upstream is coal ash or muddy soup, as long as it flows into that section of the river, it… becomes as clean as a mirror, so clear that you can see the stones at the bottom at a glance!”

Karl's voice carried a chill he himself was unaware of, as if the clear river water were flowing right before his eyes.

"The elders have passed down the story... that at the end of that 'Clean River,' lies... buried the treasure left behind by a great duke when he fled in ancient times! Gold piled up like mountains! Gems as plentiful as sand! As long as you follow that clean riverbed straight to its true source, you can find it! And you can become... a billionaire richer than the current king!"

His breathing quickened slightly, and his eyes held a mixture of longing and regret.

“You know, we don’t have much of anything there, but we have plenty of people who dream of getting rich while starving! Who wouldn’t want to give it a try? Whether it’s real or not! It’s better than starving to death… But, sir…” Karl’s voice trembled even more violently, “All those who went to investigate it deeper… not one of them came back! Really! Not a single one!”

He took a deep breath:

"Some people say... on a night with a particularly bright and round moon, if you... if you're brave enough to go to the edge of that clear river and look into the frighteningly clean water... you can... you can see them!"

“Those…those missing people! They’re underwater! Just like when they were alive, they’re still walking! Still walking forward! One after another, in a line, heads down, walking desperately in the direction the river is flowing! It’s like…it’s like they’re still searching for that damned source!”

Carl involuntarily shrank back towards the shoe store doorway, his voice almost a whisper, filled with intense fear:

"The most... the scariest thing is... if at this moment, someone on the shore... whether they know them or not, as long as... as long as they can't help but call out their name... or... or just say 'hello'..."

He stopped abruptly, his eyes wide open, as if he had witnessed something utterly terrifying:

“Those people underwater! They’ll… they’ll all turn their heads at once! Staring straight at the person who’s shouting! That look… according to those who’ve seen it… is more terrifying than a starving wild dog in winter! And then… and then they open their mouths…”

Carl mimicked a silent scream. His face was filled with terror.

"There was no sound! But you could feel them screaming! Then...then they...then they jumped out of the water! Like...like fish washed ashore! Wet and cold...they pounced on people on the shore...and dragged them into the water! And then...and then there was a shadow in the water...following them!"

After uttering the last word, he slumped down, hugging his knees, his body still trembling slightly. In the dim light, his still-swollen cheeks and fearful eyes made this "ghost story" seem exceptionally real and chilling.

Zhang Su listened quietly, his face expressionless, but his heart was in turmoil.

My first reaction was one of awe: 'This kid… his pacing, detail, and emotional build-up in telling horror stories are simply natural! If this talent were in my previous world, he could probably be a top host of a midnight horror radio show, guaranteed to scare people.'

He then began to analyze the veracity of this strange tale.

A river that remains "forever clean" in a filthy slum? That in itself is an anomaly, not to mention that it can turn seekers into reflections in the water, and even possess the ability to "hunt" living people on the shore.

How could such an anomaly of this magnitude, with such a clearly defined scope of impact and such bizarre manifestations, possibly remain unknown?

What about the extraordinary forces in this city? Are those organizations or individuals who control knowledge and power blind and deaf?

Or is there a deeper reason behind this, making them hesitant to act, or... is this a trap set by some force?

He needs more information.

Zhang Su then asked, "This ghost story is very tempting. I'm sure many people have tried to find treasure. You must have been there too, right?"

Carl was still immersed in the terrifying atmosphere he had just created when Zhang Su's calm question pulled him back to reality. He paused for a moment before nodding, "Yes...yes, sir. Just like I said, desperate people will try anything. Every year there are always a few who don't believe in the power of luck, or who are really at their wits' end, who will try their luck. Including us."

"And what happened? Besides those who completely disappeared as you just mentioned, did anyone go somewhere and then come back on their own? Or were they stopped by something?" Zhang Su pressed.

Carl thought for a moment and shook his head: "Those who completely disappear... are the ones who are supposedly dragged into the water. But most people are actually scared back halfway."

"Oh?" Zhang Su raised an eyebrow. "Halfway? What scared you back? Wasn't the river itself quite 'clean'?"

“It’s not the water that’s scary, sir,” Karl quickly explained. “It’s the road that’s too difficult to travel! Or rather, it’s the first ‘hurdle’.”

He organized his thoughts: “From our ‘Rusty Ditch’ side, just walk upstream along that clean riverbed… it’s not too far, maybe ten kilometers or so? You’ll reach the end there—not the source of the treasure, but the place where this tributary flows out.”

"what is the place?"

“An… abandoned old mine.” Carl’s voice lowered again, with a natural fear of the place. “It’s huge, deep, and pitch black… like a monster with its mouth agape. The water of the ‘Clear Water River’ flows from the deepest part of that mine.”

He rubbed his arms, as if recalling the cold there: "That place... was really eerie! Standing at the mine entrance, you could feel a chill emanating from it! Ten times colder than the coldest part of winter! No matter how many clothes you wore, it felt like ice was freezing in your bones! And... it was pitch black inside, and the wind blowing in made a strange whistling sound, like... like someone was crying in there..."

Karl's face showed lingering fear: "People like us, where would we get the money to buy thick fur coats or good boots? Let alone torches or oil lamps. Most people, when they get to the mine entrance, the cold wind blows, they hear the strange noises, and they look at that bottomless black hole... their legs start to cramp. You know, if you go in and get sick from the cold, or break your leg... without money for a doctor, you're really just waiting to die."

"So, sir, those who actually dared to go in... were either truly fearless or had some wealth, were well-dressed, carried good lamps, and might even have weapons for self-defense... in other words... those people who were later seen in the water in the legends."

Zhang Su nodded, indicating that he understood.

The cold of the mines acted as a filter, weeding out most of the poor in the slums, but leading those with more resources, such as warm clothing, lighting tools, and even bags, down a path of no return.

It seems that a trip to "Rust Ditch" should also be added to the itinerary.

Then Zhang Su said, "Thank you, Carl. I've asked enough questions today; this information is very useful. I should go now."