Why You Came

No more sounds came from behind the door.

In the long silence, only the occasional crackle of the fire and the night wind rustling through the leaves sounded unusually clear.

Old Neil stood outside the door, clutching his key tightly. His figure remained motionless in the shadows, and he never answered the voice.

One second, two seconds... Half a minute passed.

The house remained silent.

There were no footsteps, no breathing. Even the rhythm of the burning fire remained unchanged, as though those words had merely been an auditory hallucination.

Suddenly, he began to doubt himself. Had his excessive anxiety over the ritual really caused him to hallucinate?

But he had distinctly heard the words "Life Alchemy," and he could not possibly have left the fire burning for so long.

Old Neil gritted his teeth, finally pulled out the key, and turned to leave.

His footsteps were hurried, his leather shoes striking the stone pavement in rapid succession. He all but jogged down the garden path, pushed open the iron gate, and strode briskly back the way he had come.

Wind poured into his collar, and he left the scent of golden mint far behind.

Yet after barely twenty paces, Old Neil stopped abruptly.

The dim yellow streetlamps still shone silently over the empty street. Not far away, the outlines of Tingen blurred beneath the night sky. Everything looked exactly as it always did.

Old Neil slowly turned and looked back. Through the windows of the detached house, the orange-red firelight still glowed warmly, as though nothing had happened.

He stood rigid for several seconds, his Adam's apple bobbing once.

If the other party truly meant him harm, the moment he turned away would have been the perfect opportunity. Either they bore him no ill will, or they simply did not consider him worth their attention.

Whichever possibility was true, he had only one choice left.

Old Neil drew a deep breath, slowly exhaled, then turned and walked back to the door, one step at a time.

This time, he did not hesitate long before inserting the key into the lock. With a click, the door opened.

The entryway was carpeted, its wall lamps unlit. Only a wash of warm light spilled from the living room, casting a soft patch of brightness across the entryway floor.

Old Neil stepped inside and rounded the corner. His gaze fell beside the living room's round table, where someone sat quietly on a bench.

He had black hair and black eyes, with a face somewhere between boyhood and manhood. His features were exceptionally soft, resembling the elves described in historical records.

He also wore a warlock's robe similar to Old Neil's classical black robe, along with a pair of black-framed glasses.

The stranger leaned against the back of the bench, one hand resting on his knee, as relaxed as if he were visiting a friend's home.

Stranger still, though he sat right there, he showed none of the signs of a living person. He radiated no body heat, his chest did not rise and fall with breath, and there was no faint sound of circulating blood.

The instant his gaze settled on the stranger, Old Neil instinctively tried to sense his spirituality. Yet all he encountered was emptiness, as though what sat there was merely a mass of air-a mass of air that happened to have a shape.

Old Neil's brow twitched.

"Who are you?"

He remained at the living room entrance without approaching, his tone restrained and wary.

The black-haired young man turned his head slightly to look at him, his expression calm and touched with polite warmth.

"Hello, Mr. Neil. My name is Lin Chuan."

"You mentioned 'Life Alchemy' just now."

Old Neil stared into his eyes. "What do you want?"

"I need it," Lin Chuan said. "I want a body."

"I don't intend to possess a living person, nor do I intend to alert certain parties, so I'd like you to help me create a vessel using a Life Alchemy ritual."

Old Neil's gaze abruptly sharpened, then quickly grew somber again. As he looked at Lin Chuan, he suddenly realized something.

He said he 'needed a body.' Then his current state...

Old Neil scrutinized Lin Chuan again, more carefully this time. Then he saw it.

In the firelight, an exceedingly faint halo shimmered along the edges of Lin Chuan's figure, like an outline refracted through water. His body was translucent.

"A spirit body?" Old Neil's voice sank involuntarily. "No wonder..."

He instinctively raised his right hand, bent his index finger, and moved to tap his forehead.

That was the "activation gesture" Old Neil had set for his Spirit Vision. He wanted to ascertain the true condition of the spirit body before him.

"Wait," Lin Chuan said.

"I suggest you don't do that."

Old Neil's finger stopped in midair.

But it was not because of Lin Chuan's words-or rather, not solely because of them. The moment Lin Chuan spoke, his spiritual intuition began screaming warnings with unprecedented intensity.

Fear welled up from the depths of his spirit body. The oppressive sensation came silently, yet weighed so heavily on him that he could barely breathe.

His finger froze there, its tip only an inch from his forehead, but no matter what, he could not bring it down.

The living room fell quiet for several seconds.

Old Neil slowly lowered his hand. Cold sweat trickled from his temple.

He had seen nothing, but he dared not dwell on whether he truly had "seen nothing," or whether he had best see nothing at all.

His thoughts began racing. A spirit body with a status of at least Sequence 4, capable of manifesting in an almost tangible form while making its presence utterly imperceptible...

Was he the lingering soul of some ancient being? Or the evil spirit of a High Sequence powerhouse? Judging by his appearance, had he been an elf in life?

The Unseeable God.

The phrase flashed through his mind, but he quickly rejected it.

He was getting carried away. If the spirit body before him truly involved an existence on that level, there would be no need to strike any deal with him.

Even so, the stranger's origins remained unfathomable.

Old Neil did not ask how Lin Chuan knew about his circumstances, nor did he intend to make excuses or try to fool him.

"Why did you come to me?" Old Neil asked only this one question-the question whose answer he most wanted to know.

"Tingen has so many Beyonders. The Nighthawks, the Mandated Punishers, the Machinery Hivemind... Why me, of all people?"

Lin Chuan did not answer immediately. He simply watched Old Neil quietly, his gaze open and calm, as though waiting for him to process all his shock and wariness.

"Because I wanted to."

He said, "Because I wanted to do this, I came to your door."

Old Neil froze for a moment.

The answer was too casual-so casual that it hardly sounded like something an unfathomable

being would say.

"Just because of that?" he could not help asking.

"Isn't that reason enough?"

"I don't need too many reasons to do things. If I want to do something, I do it," Lin Chuan said calmly.

He looked at Old Neil, then added:

"If you can't accept that explanation, you can also think of it this way: I came for you."

"More precisely, for Neil and Shaliste."