"A great being..." Upon hearing Furnar's words, certain memories hidden deep within Barton's heart surged forth.
This overwhelmed his fear, and his feet involuntarily took a few steps back.
During that archaeological expedition years ago, all his nightmares began with seeing similar descriptions!
Just as Barton was trembling and about to turn and run away, Pacheco Dawn, the deputy head of the " Compliance Department," actually asked Furnar a question:
"Now that you have sensed the will of that great being, why not reconcile with the remnants of the Fourth Epoch who are pursuing you?"
Furnar's breathing suddenly became heavier, as if he were exhaling a thin, pale mist.
His voice also rose in pitch:
"They are not completely devoted; they still have reservations!"
As Furnar spoke, a thin, almost invisible white mist filled the half-collapsed house, emitting a strong smell of blood.
Barton seemed to understand something, but he wasn't in the mood to think about it.
He just wanted to leave this place and escape the impending danger.
Pacheco, however, remained quite calm. He looked at Furnar and asked in a friendly manner:
"What kind of assistance are you hoping we can provide by visiting Mr. Barton and writing to the Foundation?"
Upon hearing this, Barton froze.
In a different context, he would definitely think Pacheco was asking Furnar what kind of legal aid he needed!
At this point, shouldn't there only be two choices left? Either run away and call the police, or pull out a weapon and shoot or hit Furnar... Barton was full of doubts about Pacheco's handling of the situation.
With a wisp of white mist rising from his nose and a pale gray light shimmering in his eyes, Furnar showed no resistance to this exchange. His expression settled, and he replied in a slightly authoritative tone:
Two things.
"One option is to take this item to the outskirts and return in the evening."
As he spoke, Furnar tossed out a narrow-necked glass bottle.
The glass bottle seemed very sturdy; even after being dropped on the ground and hitting a stone, it showed no damage whatsoever.
Its interior is filled with a pale, thin, almost ethereal mist.
In that instant, Barton keenly noticed that Pacheco, the deputy head of the " Compliance Department," stiffened slightly, as if sensing something unusual.
Without observing their reactions, Furnar continued:
"Secondly, when collecting antiques, help me find items similar to these."
As he spoke, he took a piece of paper from his pocket and unfolded it.
The paper depicts a uniquely shaped lamp, resembling a miniature kettle with a wick extending from its spout.
"... No problem." Pacheco paused for two seconds before replying in a slightly lower voice, different from before.
"That's good, haha, don't you think our meeting was a coincidence?" Furnar then dropped the paper, and then leaped to the top of the half-collapsed house.
He climbed and leaped nimbly like a baboon, quickly disappearing from Barton and Pacheco's sight.
"What do we do next..." Barton turned to look at the deputy director of the " Compliance Department ".
He stopped abruptly before he could finish speaking, because he noticed that Pacheco was standing frozen in place, breathing heavily.
In addition, thick, black curly hairs had begun to grow on Pacheco's body, and his muscles had bulged, making his black wool coat very tight.
... Monster... Monster... Barton's pupils dilated sharply, as if trying to see Pacheco's current appearance clearly.
In the blink of an eye, the abnormality on Pacheco disappeared, and he let out a long breath.
We'll wait here.
"... Should we pick them up?" Barton pointed to the narrow-necked bottle and papers on the ground.
Pacheco's lips twitched slightly as he said:
You can go and pick it up.
"But you must keep your distance from me afterwards."
Barton blurted out:
"Will the condensation in that glass bottle affect you?"
"Some things, even if you're not sure, are best not to try rashly." Pacheco still didn't give a direct answer.
Communicating with him is really tiring... Barton thought for a moment, took a few steps forward, and stopped in front of the narrow-necked bottle and the paper.
He had just bent down and picked up the two items when a faint light suddenly appeared before his eyes.
Immediately afterwards, a pair of boots came into his view.
One of these boots has a pointed, upturned toe, while the other resembles the currently popular round-toe boots, as if they belong to two different people.
Barton's heart tightened, and he abruptly sat up straight, looking ahead.
A woman stood opposite him.
The woman wore a long dress that was divided into two parts, one side elaborate and the other simple, one side incorporating a variety of colors and the other pure black.
This asymmetrical outfit made Barton instinctively irritable, and he wanted to tear off her clothes and give her a normal dress and a normal pair of boots.
Such an impulse contains no element of male aggression towards women; it stems purely from disgust and aversion to that kind of aesthetic.
After forcibly suppressing his discomfort, Barton finally turned his gaze to the woman's head.
She had a rather beautiful face, with a high nose bridge, full lips, and unusually dark gray eyes. She was probably between twenty and thirty years old.
Barton wasn't impressed; instead, he found the other person's appearance rather odd.
After a few seconds, he finally understood the source of the strangeness:
The woman's face lacked expression; she didn't look like a real person, but more like a wax figure.
" Furnar has left." Pacheco, the deputy head of the " Compliance Department," seemed to have fully recovered and spoke up.
The woman's gaze swept over the slender-necked bottle and papers in Barton's hands:
What does he want you to do?
"Take this bottle to the outskirts and return in the evening. Also, help him find the item depicted on the paper," Pacheco replied quite frankly, displaying an attitude of not wanting to be an enemy.
The woman nodded and said:
Give me the bottle.
After she finished speaking, Barton seemed to have heard an inescapable command and instinctively threw the narrow-necked bottle in his hand at her.
"Are you from the Tamara Family?" Pacheco seized the opportunity and asked.
The lady caught the slender-necked bottle, glanced down at it, and said:
"I didn't expect anyone would still remember us."
Pacheco responded with a smile:
"In fact, members of the Tamara Family have been active since the end of the Quaternary Period, but their numbers are very small."
Have you heard of the Gnosis?
"They are them, and we are us," the woman replied simply before her body rapidly faded and vanished into thin air.