Chapter 594: River Escape
In broad daylight, near the East Tivyán port area, a once bustling yet orderly street had descended into chaos. A runaway taxi barreled onto the sidewalk with little sign of slowing down, crashing into a nearby storefront. The vehicle tipped over, horses whinnied in distress, and a street lamp was nearly knocked over by the carriage. A shop was destroyed, and many bystanders were injured, quickly gathering around the scene of the incident, while distant police officers blew shrill whistles as they rushed toward the commotion.
While everyone at the scene was drawn to the accident, John’s attention was caught by something else. Standing by the roadside, he looked in astonishment at the taxi before him. Although the coachman warmly invited him to take a ride, after the earlier harrowing moments, he hesitated to accept. That was until he noticed the meaningless scratches on the carriage door twisting back into familiar characters.
‘Get in…’
Staring at the mysterious text that seemed visible only to him, John swallowed hard. After a moment of internal conflict, he chose to open the carriage door and stepped inside the taxi. Although he still couldn’t comprehend how this mysterious script had appeared, every phrase had previously saved his life. In a perilous world where it felt like something was after him, all he could do was trust these enigmatic words; they were his lifeline.
Once inside the taxi, John quickly closed the door behind him and sat down in the seat. The coachman outside soon spoke up.
“Sir, where are you headed?”
“North City, Poplar Intersection.”
“Alright, please hold on tight.” After confirming their destination, the coachman urged the horses on, driving the taxi straight ahead. When the carriage started moving, a faintly sinister smile appeared at the corners of his mouth, though John inside the carriage remained unaware of this expression.
Once seated, John’s anxious heart did not calm. He looked around, glancing out the window as scenes rushed by, worried that another crisis might strike. After a while without incident, he secretly sighed in relief.
After relaxing slightly, John pondered how to clarify his current situation. Suddenly, he thought that since the taxi bore the life-saving text, perhaps its owner was connected to those words, possibly even their writer.
With this thought, John felt an urge to communicate with the driving coachman, wanting to inquire what he knew about his current crisis and whether he understood the situation.
As John entertained these thoughts and prepared to act on them by raising his head to ask, he was met with a familiar sight.
In front of him, on the wooden backing of the opposite carriage wall, the old, ordinary scratches began to move on their own, just like those on the carriage door, reassembling to form new phrases.
“Do not speak to the coachman; he is not your ally. There is a pen under your seat cushion. Use it to draw this mark in a discreet place on your hand, then patiently wait for your opportunity here.”
‘Not an ally…’
Seeing the new text emerge inside the carriage, John’s heart sank. If the coachman wasn’t on his side, why had that text guided him to get in? Was it trying to harm him?
In an instant, John’s mind filled with confusion and urgency again, yet the current situation did not allow him to seek answers actively. Since he had already gotten into the taxi per the text, he could only continue to follow its instructions.
Following the prompt, John reached under his seat cushion and, sure enough, pulled out a small pen. Then he looked at the strange symbol the text directed him to; it was an inverted pentagram with a design resembling a cup and an eye in the center.
After carefully examining the strange symbol, John quietly memorized it and drew an identical one on the inner arm of his left sleeve. He then put the pen away, sat back in his seat, and took a deep breath to ease his tense mind, beginning a lengthy wait.
This period of waiting was excruciating for John. He watched the scenery outside the window as it rushed by while anxiously waiting for the so-called “opportunity” to arrive, unable to grasp the specifics or foresee the future. This uncertainty heightened his anxiety.
In this situation, aside from silently praying for everything to be safe, he had no other methods.
Minutes passed, and the taxi gradually approached the edge of the East District after navigating countless streets and alleys. Suddenly, the view outside the window opened up, revealing a wide river where buildings once stood.
John realized the taxi had reached Moonflow River and was crossing a bridge toward the opposite bank, aiming for the urban area on the other side.
‘Strange… Do you need to cross Moonflow River to get to Poplar Intersection?’
Watching the ships navigating the wide river, John’s brow furrowed slightly as he pondered this. Just as his confusion remained unanswered, an unexpected event occurred.
With a sudden cry from the horses, John felt a jolt, like a push against his back, pressing him against the seat. The taxi, without warning, accelerated violently, not heading straight across the bridge to the other side but diagonally toward the bridge railing!
With a loud crash, the out-of-control taxi veered off its path, crashing directly into the wooden railing, which shattered under the powerful force of the frantic horses. The coachman’s twisted smile appeared as the runaway taxi hurtled off the bridge, plunging into the river below.
“What…”
Seated in the carriage, witnessing this scene, John’s eyes widened in shock as his heart leapt into his throat. He could not resist shouting out as he fell, feeling the weightlessness of descent. A massive splash echoed around him as space seemed to turn upside down, and he was thrown against one side of the carriage, aching all over.
Gritting his teeth against the pain, John struggled to stand up in the tilting space, desperately trying to open the carriage door. However, no matter how he tried, the door felt immovable, as if it had been welded shut. At that moment, water began pouring in through the gaps of the carriage door.
In this era, carriages were typically wooden, so even if one fell into the river, it wouldn’t sink easily, but this particular carriage seemed different. It appeared to be tampered with, letting in large amounts of water immediately. With the two frantic horses thrashing once, they sank into the river, dragging the entire carriage under at a visible speed. Just as a crowd began to gather at the broken railing above, the carriage was already more than halfway submerged.
Inside the taxi, water surged in from various cracks, and it wasn’t long before the water rose high enough to reach John’s waist. Frantically struggling, John tried every method to open the door, but none worked.
In his desperate bid for survival, he suddenly caught sight of a figure outside the carriage window. It was the very coachman who had picked him up, now silently watching him through the glass as panic engulfed John. At the sight of the coachman, John immediately shouted for help, banging on the window in desperation.
However, the coachman, observing the situation, was completely unfazed. He silently watched the rising water engulf John, who slowly sank into despair and struggled for breath until he finally lost consciousness, floating lifelessly in the cage-like carriage, which was almost entirely submerged.
Seeing John’s still figure, the coachman nodded quietly and quickly dove under the water, evading the gaze of the onlookers above as he swam toward the shore, leaving John behind to sink to the riverbed.
Finally, the sunken carriage hit the bottom of the river with a splash, stirring up murky silt, just like other debris on the riverbed.
Amidst the murkiness, in a cage of despair, John drifted silently in darkness, resembling a lifeless body. Just as he seemed to fall into an eternal slumber, his fingers twitched slightly.
With the slight movement, John slowly opened his previously closed eyes. The terror once etched on his face had vanished entirely, replaced by calmness.
After reopening his eyes, John took a deep breath, swallowing a mouthful of river water and exhaling as if breathing in the flow. Then he directed his gaze to the door that imprisoned him inside the carriage, extending his hand and forcefully pushing against it with unprecedented strength, breaking the lock mechanism.
Once the door opened, John did not hesitate, swimming out of the carriage using a diving posture. He evaded the gazes of the onlookers on shore, swimming toward the distance from the riverbed, taking a path opposite to where the coachman had gone.
As John escaped underwater, numerous people had gathered on the bridge above where he had fallen, pointing at the bubbling surface and anxiously discussing the terrifying scene. Even in a nearby tea house, patrons had congregated at the windows to observe the commotion.
Amidst the concern for the river’s disturbance, a girl in a brown vest and light yellow skirt, wearing white knee-high socks and Mary Jane shoes, sat quietly in a corner savoring her afternoon tea, undisturbed by the noise outside.
“In that case… you finally count as safe now, Professor… for the time being…”
After another sip of red tea, Doro said slowly, controlling John’s underwater movements to guide him safely to shore while enjoying the street view outside. During her afternoon tea, she unknowingly thwarted the Eight-pointed organization’s plot once again. For now, they still believed their plan had succeeded.
Having deduced that the Eight-pointed organization had likely become aware of John’s existence and might be planning to take action before he arrived at the port, Doro had initiated her countermeasures a day before John reached the harbor. She set her miniature zombie puppets in place to conduct a thorough search for Eight-pointed’s whereabouts.
Doro first acquired information about the ship John would take and its precise arrival time from the school, then used this foundation to track down Eight-pointed’s movements, thoroughly screening the port staff on duty that day. Eventually, she uncovered their tails and traced them to the secret team responsible for this operation.
Once she found them, the subsequent actions became easier. Since the Eight-pointed organization wanted to keep things quiet and avoid drawing attention from the Church and An Yin Bureau, they intended to have John d*e in a seemingly innocuous “accident,” making it appear as if nothing related to the hidden side had occurred, thus evading official scrutiny.
For them, currently, An Yin Bureau was easy to fool, but the Church presented a real challenge. If the situation escalated and drew their attention, their subsequent actions would be hindered.
Due to the Eight-pointed organization’s principle of not exposing their assassination attempts, Doro decided to save John without revealing her involvement, playing along with Eight-pointed’s game. This time, she employed unconventional methods.
In simple terms, Doro had her puppet use General Language feathers to write messages in places around the harbor that only John would understand, prompting him to avoid the “accidents” set up by Eight-pointed. This rendered their Plans A (hook drop), B (slow poison), and C (accidental accident) ineffective, ultimately forcing them to resort to their D Plan, the river plunge, which was precisely what Doro aimed for.
In the end, from Eight-pointed’s perspective, this plan successfully unfolded. John boarded the taxi prepared by Eight-pointed, which then drove him into the river. Doro also managed to have John draw the Puppet Mark on himself, as indicated by the General Language written beforehand.
After John’s plunge into the river, he was submerged and nearly suffocated. At that moment, Doro utilized the Puppet Mark to control John’s body, allowing the effects of the Water Absorption Sigil and bl**d-Eating Sigil to be conveyed through Spiritual Threads, enabling him to breathe underwater and possess “cup” attributes, making it difficult for him to d*e. He could then forcefully open the carriage door and escape, slipping away into the depths. Those from Eight-pointed lacked the ability to absorb water and wouldn’t be able to monitor John’s situation under such deep water, concluding he had perished after confirming his unconscious state.
‘bl**d-Eating… Banquet… Water Absorption… These “cup” sigils are incredibly useful, not to mention the Ryland sword and the bone ring from the beginning, even the Deep Blue Heart. I owe my survival to the Placenta Sect… Thank you…’
Reflecting on her trials, Doro couldn’t help but feel gratitude. Among all the enemies she had encountered, the Placenta faction had always been the most supportive, regardless of their sincerity.
‘After they complete this job, they’ll surely need to report back. Unfortunately, upon returning to Tivyán, they have only small outposts in the city… The real significant bases are set outside the urban area, likely to avoid Tiered Vision surveillance. They’ve certainly become more cautious this time…’
Doro thought, recalling her past with the Eight-pointed minions when she attempted to uncover their strongholds. Ultimately, she realized their critical bases were far from the urban center. This suggested that the leader of Eight-pointed in Tivyán was a high-ranking figure at the Red Tier level; to avoid detection by Tiered Vision, they had set their strongholds quite distant from the city.
Doro could easily suppress Eight-pointed within the city; her puppets possessed superior reconnaissance capabilities. Once she obtained intelligence proactively, she triumphed effortlessly. However, outside the urban area, Eight-pointed’s Red Tier would possess the ability to detect Doro’s puppets and could even capture them to trace her movements. For safety’s sake, Doro hesitated to follow the Eight-pointed minions out of the city, leaving her unable to uncover their core information.
Currently, Doro was not in a rush. The overall situation in Tivyán did not disadvantage her. With John McCheson now in her hands, if she seized this opportunity, she could extract crucial information that Eight-pointed valued the most.
