CH-015

Damn it!

Damn it! Damn it!

Damn it—————!

Time returns briefly to yesterday evening.

The twilight was heavy, and the afterglow of the setting sun was blocked by the dense forest. While other places were still vibrant and brilliant as if it were high noon, parts of the deep forest had entered the night ahead of schedule. The air was a mixture of decaying leaves and fresh foliage, and the dampness of the soil made a chill quietly seep into the bones.

Dr. Matthew, the traveling doctor who was usually welcomed by small village chiefs and towns alike, was in a hidden depression in the mountain forest handling a corpse and burying the traces.

His movements were steady, and there wasn’t a ripple of emotion on his face, as if he were merely performing routine cleaning work.

However, the moment he straightened his back, he heard a faint, rustling sound coming from deep within the bushes.

The sound was unnatural—so unnatural that it felt like a lively conversation had suddenly cut off, making the space tight and deathly silent. Clearly, it was just a return to the previous tranquility, yet there was a sense of abrupt awkwardness.

Dr. Matthew’s mood, which had just become light and pleasant because he had “solved” a person, instantly plummeted to the bottom.

He held his breath, like a hunter feeling out his prey, his alertness piqued as he listened meticulously to the source of all sounds.

He knew clearly that this couldn’t be the sound of the wind, nor the sound of leaves rubbing together.

That was a solid “sense of presence”—like a life lurking in the woods.

It might just be a mountain animal: a roe deer, a squirrel, or a hedgehog scurrying through the shrubs.

It had better be such a result.

That’s what he thought in his heart.

After all, this piece of mountain forest was sandwiched between the town and the village, the terrain remote and difficult to traverse. Add to that the fact that it was getting late and the sun was setting; the light was dim. Even an experienced hunter wouldn’t bother wasting the legwork to come here specifically.

Not to mention, there wasn’t even a decent small path here; otherwise, he wouldn’t have chosen this spot to kill and bury a body.

However, his cautious nature allowed him no room for wishful thinking.

He pulled out a dagger and, hugging the tree trunk, slowly moved step by step toward where the sound had come from.

One step, two steps, three steps…

The sound of fallen leaves being trampled was like thick pulp being slowly squeezed out, dully seeping into the night. It wasn’t until a withered branch snapped under his boot with a “clack” that the sound seemed to remind him he was over-tensed.

“…I must have misheard. How could there be anyone else here?”

Dr. Matthew talked to himself and turned around.

Shortly after these words fell, a relaxed sigh finally emerged uncontrollably.

Dr. Matthew’s lips curled slightly into a cold smile.

He knew that prey always reveals a flaw.

He spun around suddenly, his figure once again flying out like an arrow from a bow, the mud beneath his feet splashing high. Within a few breaths, he rushed to the source of the sound, and his eyes landed on Finnian, who was squatting behind a tree, his face deathly pale and his legs weak.

Finnian’s eyes reflected Dr. Matthew’s cruel, demon-like figure.

And Dr. Matthew’s eyes had no temperature, as if he were examining a piece of dead meat.

“He saw my face… it seems he really cannot be left alive!”

The thought flashed through Dr. Matthew’s mind, and the dagger in his hand rose accordingly.

The cold light flashed in the gloom, like a wolf opening its eyes in the dark night.

“Dr. Matthew, I didn’t see anything!”

Finnian slumped on the ground, crying out, his voice trembling, “Dr. Matthew, please spare my life! I beg you, I really don’t know anything. I didn’t see anything.”

His voice echoed through the mountain forest, like a solo play that no one expected.

Dr. Matthew just looked at him expressionlessly, his words full of inhumanity, even though he used a gentle tone, “If you really didn’t see anything, why are you afraid of me? Why do you think I want to kill you?”

“…”

Finnian saw the dagger getting closer and closer to him; his retreating body was already enveloped in Dr. Matthew’s shadow.

A flash of helplessness and despair appeared in his eyes.

If only someone would come and save me!

But he knew very well that this shortcut home was his own secret passage; no one would come here at all.

This thought died down.

Finnian bared his teeth, his breathing unconsciously heavy, and a hint of madness flashed in his eyes. He grabbed the sand and mud on the ground and flung it toward Matthew. He then stood up quickly, preparing to ride his little sheep and escape.

However, such a small attack was merely an itch to Dr. Matthew.

Dr. Matthew snorted coldly, and with a flying kick, he sent Finnian crashing into a tree trunk, the blade of the knife then closing in on Finnian’s neck.

Finnian let out a cry of pain, but he hadn’t completely lost the ability to resist. He suddenly noticed a slight bulge in the chest pocket of Matthew’s coat; a corner of a familiar small notebook was peeking out. He had caught a glimpse of it by chance; he had heard his own father say that it was probably a medical record file the doctor made himself, or perhaps a drug formula.

“If you won’t let me live, I won’t let you get away with it either!”

Finnian hardened his heart.

Taking advantage of the time Matthew spent leaning over to grab his collar, Finnian suddenly snatched the notebook and rolled over to the side.

His eyes fixed on Matthew, he scrambled back up and pulled a small white sheep out of the bushes behind him—the one that had never left.

“Little guy, run fast! Let everyone know Dr. Matthew is a villain!”

Finnian murmured in his heart, stuffed the notebook into the small cloth bag around the sheep’s neck, and then gave the sheep’s butt a hard kick.

The sheep was instantly startled, let out a startled “baa,” and bolted out, charging through the woods and disappearing from Finnian’s sight in an instant.

For a moment, Finnian envied the sheep’s incredible explosive power and running speed.

But he turned back to see Dr. Matthew narrowing his eyes, emotion finally appearing on his face—it was gloom, anger, and murderous intent.

Finnian’s previous ferocity seemed to have used up all his strength; now his legs were weak, and he slumped on the ground, his energy completely drained.

“Damn it! You’ve made a big mess for me!”

Matthew used his arm to restrain Finnian and used his other hand to stab the child in the abdomen, letting the pain force Finnian’s mouth open, then a pill was stuffed into his mouth.

Finnian felt a foreign object in his mouth and instinctively wanted to spit it out.

But Matthew had long known what he would do; he grabbed his hair, forced him to tilt his head back, and then punched him in the stomach again.

After the pill fell into Finnian’s stomach, he could only breathe in small gasps, and soon his eyes went black as he lost consciousness.

Matthew knew that if Finnian went missing, his parents would search all over the village and the mountains for him.

At that time, whether he was alive or dead, throwing him by the roadside would bring trouble to himself.

Because Matthew needed to find “that notebook” back as quickly as possible; he couldn’t let anyone notice its existence.

If too many things got involved, it would only add more trouble for him.

Looking at Finnian lying on the ground, Matthew couldn’t help but curse under his breath, “Damn it!”

At this moment, the door to the forest keeper’s house was knocked open again.

It was the new priest from the Savoy pasture; he hadn’t been there long, less than a month. However, after he began public masses, the talk about him began to rise.

It was said that he could see things others couldn’t.

Dr. Matthew had indeed thought about meeting the priest here.

But not at this time, and he didn’t want it to be at this time, delaying his departure. However, if he went out, he felt that the two people inside the house wouldn’t be able to handle a young priest.

He had a hunch that this priest did not come with good intentions.

But the priest merely smiled and said: “I am here to proselytize.”

Dr. Matthew, who opened the door, responded: “We allow freedom of religious belief here; your coming to proselytize will have no effect.”

The priest, Alis, was not affected by this rejecting attitude; he just unhurriedly scanned the situation of the three people in the house, then looked at Dr. Matthew in front of him and said: “I believe that if you can feel the power of God and receive God’s help, you will certainly be willing to join the faith.”

Dr. Matthew sneered and was about to speak when Alis looked into Matthew’s eyes and said firmly: “I think you need my help.”

Because of this sentence, the male host and his wife in the house subconsciously looked at Alis, but they couldn’t help looking at Dr. Matthew to see what decision he would make or what reaction he would give.

The air froze for a moment, and even the sound of breathing seemed particularly piercing.

Dr. Matthew was about to speak when his words were intercepted gently and without hesitation by Priest Alis.

“I saw it.”

His tone was calm, his gaze looking directly at Matthew, like the morning mist that seemed harmless but could envelop all the mountain forests, pervasive and airtight, pressing down until one couldn’t breathe.

Matthew realized his shoulders had already started to stiffen. He forced a perfunctory smile, his tone remaining inconspicuous, “I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”

Alis continued to look at him peacefully and indifferently, his tone having almost no fluctuation, “I see that you have lost something.”

His tone was quite understated, as if he were talking about a trivial matter. But the atmosphere in the room seemed to be weighed down by a layer of lead, and the hearts of the people in the house sank with it.

But Alis seemed unaware of the subtle change in the air, saying word by word, “You searched all night but had no results, didn’t you?”

Dr. Matthew’s eyes darkened in an instant.

His hand also slowly reached toward the dagger at his waist.

A person alone saying these things to him—isn’t that just walking into a trap?

Alis’s tone loosened slightly, “I know where the thing you are looking for is. Do you need my help?”

“If you don’t make a decision soon, it probably won’t be very good for you.”

Matthew’s brow twitched, his fingers gripping the knife tightened slightly, then loosened, and he even mocked: “You say I lost something and can’t find it. Where did you see that?”

“I saw it in your eyes.” Alis’s manner was sincere and solemn, as if it were a real thing, “The things in a person’s heart will be expressed in their eyes—for example, fear, or joy—and I see more specific things. For example, the thing you lost…”

Alis frowned slightly, as if trying to see through Dr. Matthew’s heart, “I can’t see clearly exactly what it is, but it should be a piece of paper—no, several pieces of paper stacked together…”

Before he could finish this sentence, Matthew’s face changed, a flash of uncontrollable panic crossed his eyes, which was immediately suppressed by a cold and hard expression.

Matthew took a large step toward the thin Priest Alis, his tall figure instantly looming over the person in front of him.

His gaze was like a fire had been lit, burning and dangerous, staring straight at Alis.

“Priest Alis…” Matthew paused as he leaned toward the priest, his tone lowering, “If you can really help me solve my trouble, I think I would be willing to follow your faith.”

Alis smiled.

“But, how do you want to help me?”

This question was like an urgent plea for help, but also like a knife held against the other’s neck—beneath the calm shell lay an explosive intent to kill and a test.