Looking at the photograph on the floor, Sifa felt as if he were watching a horror movie. Seeing someone who had greeted him that very afternoon in a photograph documenting the dead was deeply unnerving, carrying an indescribable strangeness.
"Maybe Noah's father, or grandfather."
Sifa shook his head. His spiritual intuition had emphasized more than once that the person in the photograph was the ship's officer.
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As a Hunter, Sifa could easily remember people's appearances, scents, and distinguishing traits. That was why he recognized at a glance that the person in the photograph was Noah.
Blood relatives might resemble one another in looks or spirit, but they could never be exactly identical!
If the photograph showed Noah, then what about the other residents of the island?
Sifa crouched down and searched through the photographs. Before long, he found one of Bally, the owner of the White Windmill Hotel!
In the photograph, he wore the island's distinctive clothing, his hands laid flat over his chest, with a coin placed over his mouth.
Sifa kept searching.
In less than a moment, Sifa found photographs of several more island residents. Some were restaurant owners, while others were fishermen.
Sifa even found a photograph of Midia.
The girl wore her floral-patterned long dress and a veiled hat, sitting stiffly in a chair. Her head seemed to have lost all support and drooped to one side, while two coins rested on the hand placed over her knee.
Looking at these photographs, Sifa recalled his first night on the island—the residents standing rigidly like Zombies, and their midnight walks through the dark streets.
A thought rose uncontrollably in his mind.
"Could the island's residents