Deep Sea Embers

Shirley, who had just finished watering the barren ground in front of the shop and held an empty basin, was momentarily startled by the looming shadow blocking the sunlight.

“Holy crap!” She exclaimed involuntarily but quickly caught herself. Coughing twice, she nervously attempts to gather her thoughts after recognizing the inquisitor. “Um, you… you…”

Vanna’s brow furrowed slightly. For some reason, she felt that this petite, fragile girl seemed overly anxious in her presence. This was true when she and Heidi had previously visited the antique shop, and it remained so now.

Regardless, Vanna didn’t dwell on it, as she was already quite used to others reacting nervously when meeting her for various reasons.

“I remember you’re Shirley,” Vanna said with a smile, attempting to ease the short girl’s tension. “Don’t be so nervous; I’m just here to browse.”

Shirley straightened up quickly and nodded rigidly, “Uh… right! Welcome…”

Vanna shook her head, walked past the tense Shirley, and nodded to Nina as a greeting before heading straight for the antique shop.

The crisp sound of the bell shattered the silence on the shop’s first floor as she opened the door. Vanna entered, her gaze focused on the figure behind the counter.

The next moment, her eyebrows lifted in surprise at the occupant. A blonde woman was sitting behind the counter, and the individual had a stunning and mysterious air under the morning sunlight. In fact, it’s the type of elegance that’s not suited for this era.

“Ah, welcome, feel free to look around.” The blonde gave a faint smile and greeted her after noticing the noise from the entrance.

Vanna paused, momentarily stunned by the surreal reception. For some reason, she got this sensation that the other person shouldn’t be working here and should be some noble lady in high society. But then again, the shop was filled with all sorts of seemingly ancient and enigmatic items, so having a lady with a mysterious and elegant aura behind the counter seemed fitting in that angle.

But all the items in this antique shop were fakes…

“Excuse me…” Alice, somewhat puzzled, looked at the customer, who had entered and abruptly stopped to stare blankly. The situation seemed to deviate from the usual “standard guest reception process” the captain had mentioned, leaving her uncertain of how to proceed. “Is there something you’d like to buy?”

Vanna snapped back to reality over that call, and a chaotic numbness and dizziness filled her mind, disjointing her thoughts in the process. She vaguely recalled seeing or thinking of something moments ago, but the sudden confusion completely obscured everything she had seen and understood in that instant.

Moments later, gentle ocean waves echoed in her mind, and amid these waves, she entirely forgot the prior chaos, numbness, and dizziness.

It felt like she had just entered the store, and the young woman behind the counter was speaking to her.

“Ah, is Mr. Duncan not here?” Vanna looked around the first floor curiously, unable to find the antique shop owner’s figure, “I know him.”

“Mr. Duncan? He went upstairs to put something away and will be back soon,” Alice disregarded Vanna’s previous distraction, thinking everything was fine as long as the conversation continued, “Do you want to buy something? Do you have a reservation for an item? I can help you search for it, although I might not be able to find it…”

Such a candid statement.

Vanna sensed something peculiar, instinctively feeling that the beautiful young woman before her seemed slightly out of place. But each time she tried to concentrate on the issue, she immediately forgot her thoughts, making her speech slower than usual: “I… am just browsing. I’ll wait for a moment. Excuse me… Are you new here? I didn’t see you when I came last time.”

“Ah, I’m new here, my name is Alice,” Alice promptly said with a smile, enjoying introducing herself to others, “Mr. Duncan asked me to help watch the store.”

Vaguely, Vanna seemed to detect something unusual, concealed within Alice’s restrained yet somewhat rigid movements, within her flawless yet overly perfect smile, and even within her breathless speech.

The inquisitor frowned but didn’t genuinely notice anything out of the ordinary.

It was just a new shop assistant, nothing abnormal.

Suddenly, footsteps echoed from the nearby staircase, interrupting Vanna and Alice’s conversation.

Duncan had appeared on the stairs.

Earlier, he had sensed Vanna’s presence but deliberately waited a few more minutes on the second floor to confirm the inquisitor’s intentions. When he realized she didn’t have any specific purpose, he descended.

“We have a special guest,” Duncan said to the puppet lady behind the counter, “I’ll take over from here since she’s an acquaintance. Alice, go make some tea.”

“Alright, Mr. Duncan!” Alice happily stood up and, after agreeing, walked toward the small stove on the other side of the stairs.

Duncan approached Vanna, smiling and greeting the inquisitor he had seen several times before: “It’s been a long time, Miss Inquisitor.”

“Just call me by my name,” Vanna rubbed her forehead, “Sorry for the sudden visit; actually, I have some questions I wanted to clarify.”

“Questions?” Duncan raised an eyebrow, “What questions?”

Vanna collected herself, contemplating how to begin.

Vague hints pointed to this unremarkable shop, and some intuitive guidance led her here. The inquisitor’s experience and instincts seemed to subtly pulse. However, previous official investigations by the church found no anomalies. The only reason that could justify her investigation this time appeared to be her friend’s “amulet.”

“As far as I know, Heidi had an amulet from here,” Vanna said slowly, “Before the reality pollution disaster, she always wore it.”

“Oh, I remember that,” Duncan nodded with a neutral expression and a slightly enlightened look, “I gave that amulet to Mr. Morris, and I’ve given out another one recently.”

As he spoke, he turned and took another amulet from the shelf behind him, presenting it to Vanna.

“It’s this kind.”

Vanna looked curiously at the antique shop owner who casually treated the store’s “collection” as mass-produced goods: “Do you have many of these amulets?”

“I have a whole box of them, and so far, I’ve given away or sold a total of twenty-one,” Duncan nodded earnestly, “Are you interested?”

While speaking, he unconsciously glanced at the young inquisitor.

Vanna seemed peculiar to him today, appearing somewhat dazed, her speech slightly sluggish. But beyond these visible abnormalities, even stranger was her unstable “aura” at the moment.

Duncan couldn’t quite pinpoint it, but the feeling the young inquisitor gave him now… it was as if there was another person hidden in her thoughts, another pair of eyes concealed within her gaze. She was conversing with him here, but it seemed as if something else was buried deep within her consciousness.

Vanna seemed not to notice Duncan’s scrutiny. She was just a little unaccustomed to his candid business approach – although she knew from the beginning that there was nothing authentic in the store: “Um… no, I’m just here to investigate some situations. I want to ask about the specific source of these amulets and whether they have exhibited any special characteristics, or if the people who bought them have reported any unusual circumstances?”

“You mean…”

“Heidi believes that the amulet she wore at the time had a genuine protective effect, even helping her maintain her consciousness during the initial ‘disaster’,” Vanna explained briefly, without delving into too much detail. “I think the amulet you gave to Mr. Morris may have been influenced by… supernatural powers, so I came to investigate. Of course, you don’t need to be nervous; as far as the current information is concerned, this is not a negative influence.”

She may say this, but there was one more thing she didn’t mention: while she was here to investigate, she hadn’t expected Duncan to have an entire box of similar amulets and had already sold so many!

Duncan was slightly taken aback upon hearing Vanna’s words.

Did that thing… really have an effect? The “gift” he casually gave away actually protected the self-consciousness of the psychiatrist?

Why did this happen?

What was the key?

Was it the act of “giving the gift” itself, or was it because the psychiatrist’s “inspiration” was too powerful?

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