The Depressed Lavinia

Hope showed Elizabeth the carcass of the Great Night Hawk in the cellar once again.

It was rotten, Hope's eyesight was too poor to see anything while standing on it, but Elizabeth frowned.

She glanced at it only once before instructing Hope to close the cellar lid.

"I think Professor Armitage would be interested in this, and I'll persuade him to come to Dunwich to see it," Elizabeth said. "That should be a suitable reason."

She wrote it down on a piece of paper.

Hope could only hope she succeeded.

Once Elizabeth's car had driven away, Hope initiated "Uncertainty" and returned to his room at the Whateley House.

He didn't have time to put the black raincoat back in August's dormitory, so he had to temporarily store it at Old Williams ' house.

Number Four Hope, once again lingered in his mind.

Approximately three months—that is, early September—the sixth Hope should appear.

Apart from the sixth Hope — Number Three Hope believed that Number Two Hope was not dead— Number Four Hope believed that Number Three Hope was not dead—

Hope —P believes that Number P is not dead—

I wonder what Number Two Hope thinks of Number One Hope ----

When Number Four Hope left the note, her thoughts were still clear. Although she had some random thoughts, she was generally very stable. There were no major emotional outbursts, no breakdowns, and no stagnant calm or relief as if her wish had been fulfilled.

This doesn't seem like the state of someone who knows they're going to die.

What she was thinking at the time was:

The transition period is three months, but in any case, my departure is today. She used "departure" instead of "death." Well, there was no malicious intent in her thoughts at that moment.

Otherwise, Hope would suspect that her comments might be misleading.

Be careful of your predecessors----"

She specifically mentioned this, probably because she believed that previous generations of Hope posed a threat to Hope.

Could they be resurrected in this body?

It's unclear what number four's attitude is towards number three, but Number Three Hope seems to distrust Number Two Hope.

Hope put these things aside for the time being and stopped thinking about them.

What truly matters now is Number Four Hope's last words, about a simple way to stop the the Whateley family—

Let that thing eat you.

Offering oneself to feed a tiger—it sounds like a tragic hero with a spirit of self-sacrifice—but I don't know the underlying principle.

Clearly, neither Number Four Hope nor Hope predecessors did this.

Whether or not it would actually be useful, Hope herself had no intention of doing so.

Lavinia opened Hope's door.

Dinner seems to be a little late today.

Dinner consists of ----

Hope looked in surprise at the slightly burnt bread on the tray.

There are four in total, varying in size and oddly shaped. One of them is clearly dough that didn't fully ferment, and it's wrinkled together.

But this is bread, not canned peas.

Hope quickly remembered that Wilbur was already at Miskatonic University and probably hadn't returned yet.

The bread was still steaming, clearly fresh out of the oven.

"Did you make these?" Hope asked Lavinia.

Lavinia nodded, then sat down next to Hope and gestured with the tray, dividing the bread into two halves to indicate that only half of the bread belonged to Hope and the other half to her.

Hope picked one up and took a bite without waiting.

Improper baking makes bread dry and hard. Mixed with hard dough that has failed to ferment, it has no texture whatsoever and tastes like eating dry mud.

But the freshly baked heat and the long-lost aroma of wheat still made Hope squint her eyes comfortably.

He recalled lying in Professor Armitage's office for five hours, and Professor Armitage hadn't even invited him to stay for lunch—even though it wasn't a proper place to eat.

Hope finally realized that Lavinia seemed somewhat frustrated.

She wasn't as outgoing as before, and sat quietly next to Hope.

Hope didn't know what to say; Old Whateley had just died last night, and the funeral was held this morning.

Even old cult members have their fans.

Hope felt that Old Whateley wasn't a good father; how could a good father let his daughter be with something like the King of Kings?

But Old Whateley did love his daughter, and his daughter loved him.

After all, someone like Lavinia, so stubborn and willful, would have been unbearable for Wilbur long ago if it weren't for Old Whateley.

Wilbur —he can no longer be called a human being.

Hope could sense that she was special to Wilbur.

This peculiar feeling wasn't some strange emotion; Hope had always doubted whether Wilbur truly possessed any emotions.

It was a matter of basic respect; Wilbur only showed some of his arrogance when he looked at Hope.

In addition, Wilbur always treated even Old Whateley with contempt.

Not to mention Lavinia.

Hope patted Lavinia on the shoulder as a gesture of comfort.

He may have a high status in the Whateley House, but he doesn't have nearly as many human rights as Lavinia, so patting him on the shoulder is the only thing he can do for Lavinia.

"Did Wilbur bully you?" Hope asked.

Lavinia lowered her head and ate her bread, speaking indistinctly, "I'm a little afraid of him."

"He's not going to eat you," Hope said, though he himself had some doubts about that statement.

Lavinia nodded. "But I'm still afraid of him. I don't quite know what he wants to do."

What he's going to do—is nothing more than what Old Whateley is going to do—

Once the Transparent Monster grows a bit bigger, it will open the gates for the King of Kings —of course, no one knows what his motives are, Hope can't imagine any benefit he could gain from it.

He had initially assumed that Lavinia knew all this, since she had always acted like a cultist— Hope quickly realized the key point: Lavinia was indeed a cultist, given her family background, but the difference was that she wasn't as insane.

The two loaves of bread were surprisingly substantial; Hope almost couldn't finish them.

Lavinia seemed a little happier, and she suddenly said something else, in a very soft voice, Hope had to lean closer to hear. "—He's strange—he's a little impatient—he's about to finish what he wants to do, except for that book."

Lavinia said, sitting up from Hope's bed, clearing away the dishes, and leaving with her head down.

Hope heard the sound of a lock being put on.

He pondered Lavinia's words.

Wilbur only needed that book.

Only the Necronomicon.

Before his death, Old Whateley instructed Wilbur to allow the Transparent Monster to grow larger before beginning the ritual to summon the King of King of Kings.

But Wilbur didn't seem to think so—or perhaps he was convinced the Transparent Monster was big enough.

The sound of a vehicle's engine came from afar and finally stopped in front of the Whateley House's house.

Hope opened the curtains and looked outside, seeing a blurry red mass.