Demon Hunter and His Cabin-Chapter 164 - 42 Narcissus Street (7)

Chapter 164 -164: 42 Narcissus Street (7)

Chapter 164 -164: 42 Narcissus Street (7)

The potion was absorbed and then circulated throughout the body via the bloodstream. A strange sensation arose internally.

The feeling was indescribable, something like pain but not quite pain. If there existed that kind of special substance inside the body, the potion would rush into it after taking effect, bringing intense pain.

But now, there was a faint pain inside his body, yet when he tried to focus on it, he couldn’t locate the source, and the potion that had dispersed inside him seemed as though it was searching for something.

And so, Roger quietly waited until that feeling disappeared, and the kind of pain Henrik had described did not occur.

“I’m not the Saint Heir?”

Roger stood up, quietly letting out a sigh of relief. He reflected on it further and still felt a bit uneasy; the experience had been too peculiar, not fitting any scenario Henrik had described.

After mixing a new batch of potion and resting for a while, he drank it once again.

Before long, that familiar feeling returned, albeit slightly different. Only then did Roger finally set his mind at ease.

“Perhaps it’s because I have a unique constitution.”

Compared to other Demon Hunters, Roger had consumed too many potions, and his body had undergone three transformations; his internal organs had been remodeled, so a minor discrepancy was understandable.

Ever since he killed three people in front of the hut, Roger had been somewhat concerned. Nobody wants a force lurking in the shadows searching for them.

“Now I can finally be completely at ease.”

“Once I’ve gathered all the ingredients and completed the Green Grass Trial, becoming a true Demon Hunter, I can truly enjoy life.”

With the weight lifted from his heart, Roger relaxed. As it reached noon, he ate something, rested for a bit, and then went back to the Mist Hut.

In the Misty World, there was no day or night. The sky was gray during the ‘day,’ and when the mist shrouded everything, it was akin to nightfall.

Upon entering, Roger went straight through the iron door on the second floor to another safe spot. He didn’t practice in the Training Room downstairs but pushed open the room’s door and stepped outside.

Without mist, it was the equivalent of daytime there.

The bodies of the monsters he had killed before had disappeared without a trace, not even a hint of blood on the ground.

Given what had occurred before, Roger knew that in this peculiar world, whenever the mist receded, the remaining bodies, bloodstains, and even damaged buildings would revert to their original states.

His range of movement was limited now, but Roger still planned to look around and familiarize himself with the surroundings.

The assimilation process had stopped, but many rules here were changed, and Roger climbed up to the roof, looking around.

A dense array of buildings lay before him, with the core area they had visited before visible in the distance.

Roger didn’t understand architecture, but the style seemed to have nearly a century of history, with no apparent modern amenities.

The houses were all made of wood, and the streets were paved with green stones, evidently characteristics leftover from an incomplete assimilation.

Just then, from the corner of his eye, he glimpsed a familiar street.

“Narcissus Street?”

Roger paused briefly before jumping off the rooftop. From his perspective, he could see the same street they had entered the core area from before.

However, his current position was at the end of the street instead of the beginning.

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Roger moved forward, limited by his restricted area of movement, he could only venture about 10-plus meters into the end of Narcissus Street.

He could enter only one of the houses by the street.

“Was this place really a part of Rose Street’s history at some point?”

In the assimilation process, Different Space extracts from reality, but not limited to just the current reality; everything before his eyes appeared to replicate a historical period of Rose Street.

However, the extent to which many details were changed due to the rules remained unknown.

Filled with curiosity, Roger entered one of the houses on the left side of the street.

A metal sign hung at the entrance of the house. On the left half of the sign, there was a sharply outlined Daffodil, and on the right half, the number 42 Narcissus Street was written in Armenian.

“Number 42?”

“How exactly is the numbering of the entire street arranged?”

Roger immediately ran to the opposite side of the street, where the doorplate bore the number 43, Narcissus Street.

He continued to walk forward until his body was blocked by an invisible barrier.

Although it restricted his movement, it couldn’t restrict his sight.

Roger scanned the sides of the street, limited by his angle, he could only see the numbers on the doorplates of the nearby houses.

“It’s in sequence.”

Looking back towards the end of the street.

“Where did Narcissus Street 48 go?”

“Is it because of a process issue that it wasn’t assimilated?”

Roger wasn’t sure which was the case, he didn’t think further, but directly entered number 42 on Narcissus Street.

This was an ordinary residence, the space was cramped, and each floor was so low that it felt very oppressive.

The room’s furnishings were old, with no dust at all, as if it had always been inhabited.

Following the staircase to the second floor, with separate rooms on both sides, at first glance there was nothing unusual, but somehow, being there, Roger felt something was not right.

Without finding any information, he left number 42 and entered the opposite number 43.

The structure of room 43 was similar to that of 42, and after a few rounds around the room, Roger finally found the problem.

The two houses didn’t have any windows on the side facing the street!

This was highly unusual, as if it was intentional not to let people walking on the street notice what was happening inside the rooms.

Although there were a few windows on the other side, the windows were very small, so small that even an average adult couldn’t get through.

These tiny windows were scattered on the wall, seemingly not for lighting but rather forming some kind of pattern.

“At least it proves that this street really exists, what’s left is to find the specific period and then clarify some things.”

Roger suddenly thought of something, hurried down the stairs, and took down the iron plaque from the door, looking closely, a string of letters was engraved on the stem of the daffodil.

“Stuart.”

“Is this the surname of the street’s owner?”

This was an unexpected surprise, Roger ran to the street opposite and found the same letters on the doorplate.

Knowing the name of the Stuart family, the search from now on became much easier, at least there was a general direction to follow.

While Roger was pleased, he suddenly heard a heavy panting sound behind him.

Along with the panting sound, a powerful sense of oppression came from the back.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, and Roger slowly turned his head.

About thirty meters behind him, a large shadowy figure was slowly approaching.

“That thing is still around?!”

What appeared before Roger wasn’t something else but the Demon Bull that had been following them since they fled the core area.

One of its eyes had already rotted away, clearly, Henrik’s shot at that time had caused it considerable damage.

Besides that, it was covered in wounds of various sizes.

And at this moment, Roger was farther away from the Mist Hut than the creature, if he charged up, he would definitely face a head-on blow from the Demon Bull!

At the same time, a faint mist began to rise from beside him.

The mist descended.