The Gentleman at the End-Chapter 643 - 641 Nightmare and the Black Sea

William had learned from the books about the dangers of the Arc Sea,

and Catherine had mentioned that the Arc Sea was filled with the eyes of Fish Origin, and stepping into its waters would lead to immediate discovery.

Even if William could fuse with Lorrian, the Moon couldn’t descend below sea level, and moonlight couldn’t penetrate to the bottom of the deep sea, making perfect camouflage impossible.

Moreover, William was well aware of the vigilance of such plague masters who indulged in experimentation and loved to research.

Therefore, in William’s opinion, Catherine’s request was no different from a death sentence.

William changed his approach, "Besides the ’Arc Sea’, is there anywhere else we can obtain what you want?

Or could you just tell me what exactly you want to do? If you’re looking for a breakthrough in a certain area, maybe I can find something more suitable for you than deep sea material."

Catherine’s head circled William’s torso as she pondered, "I got infected by the Arc Sea and have lived there for years—do you think something from a freshwater lake could help me?"

"No... I mean it doesn’t have to be from the Old World, you can come with me to look at the oceans of the human world. When the world infection occurred, it was the marine areas that first underwent the process of graying.

I guess the ocean in the human world might share similar attributes to the Arc Sea, and perhaps you’ll find what you need.

The most important is that the safety will be considerably higher."

William’s words made Catherine’s head stop, and a tentacle rested on her lips as she thought deeply, "Oh? How come I didn’t think of that... We could indeed take seawater from your world.

However, its quality will inevitably be inferior to that of the Arc Sea, reaching the standard of laboratory water is even more unlikely, but it’s still worth a try.

But what if I’m not satisfied?"

"If you’re still unsatisfied, then I have one final method."

"Oh? Is there another ocean?" Catherine’s interest was immediately piqued.

William, wrapped in tentacles, pulled out a slimy arm and tapped his temple, "My brain... it connects to a pitch-black sea that is directly associated with death, a sea that is tied to a different kind of death from the Original Tomb, one that doesn’t belong to this world.

According to the First Dead Man, its depth of death is much higher than that of the common Death Plague.

Do you dare to go, Catherine?"

Catherine had been with William for a long time and knew well about the alternative death that came from the Old World—a liquid form of black droplets—found in him.

"What’s there to be afraid of? At worst, I die, which isn’t such a big deal... Right now, besides wanting to repay the boss for his kindness in offering me shelter, repay Uncle Jian for his care, and the obsession with defeating you, I don’t have much of a reason to live.

How do we go about it? Speak up."

"To be honest, I don’t know how to get there either, but I just thought of a special way.

Using your deep sea pool as a medium, and the memories in the depths of my consciousness as a base for nightmare shaping, we could travel to that black sea in our dreams. Do you dare to try?

We might find something you need within that special sea area, or even something better than you imagined.

In our human side, there is a gentleman named ’Yodessapen Galon’ whose dreams can connect to another world, a world that is completely chaotic and filled with strange monsters.

Perhaps, Catherine, your nightmares can also serve to connect to the Black Sea."

Catherine’s tentacles beneath her head lifted her up as she gazed upward, "The essence of dreams... even I can’t articulate it clearly.

The ’nightmares’ I specialize in are the most unstable state among dreams, just like how we accidentally ’combined’ your memory with the fish origin during a nightmare, creating an uncontrollable branch of the nightmare.

Thank goodness your knowledge of the Fish Origin was limited to a glimpse of its silhouette, or you might have truly died in there.

Even within the circus, the boss repeatedly warned me to use my nightmare ability as little as possible, focusing on real performances.

I’ve never tried to use the material and memories of another world to direct the creation of nightmares, it may be very interesting... anyhow, it will be a shared dream, and if we die, we die together.

How about we start now?"

"Now?"

William was slightly surprised; he thought to first take Catherine to investigate the seas of the human world, with the experimental connection between nightmares and the Dead Sea only as a secondary option.

Catherine had completely taken an interest, malice was breeding inside her, and her pupils kept welling up with murky liquid,

"Isn’t it perfect now? Recently, Art is in seclusion, and the boss also needs to deal with some physical issues, so the circus’s next grand opening will be postponed for a while.

Even if we get hurt in the dreams, once we return, we’ll have plenty of time to rest.

Or is there something on your end that you haven’t resolved?"

"Not really, it’s just that I just got back to the theater and didn’t have a chance to take care of things for a couple of days, and I also promised Mr. Rabbit to participate in physical training."

"How long could dreaming possibly take? And isn’t that parasite quite capable? I heard your theater received high ratings in the preliminary assessment.

Come on, William. Time waits for no one.

I need you to cooperate perfectly with me so I can perfectly combine the [Nightmare] with the memories in your head."

William took a deep breath.

After all, he was quite interested in this matter himself.

Ever since he arrived in this world, he had been pondering the problems of the Black Dead Sea from the other side, thinking why the transcendence occurred, thinking about the essence of this black death liquid.

Now, he might really be able to delve deeper through Catherine’s nightmare.

"Tell Nash for me, if I don’t return in the next few days, please ask him to look after the theater. Also, pass a message to Mr. Rabbit, tell him I’ll be staying at the Clown House for a few days."

"I’ve already sent someone there, so let’s get started..."

"Come on, Catherine."

William didn’t resist and allowed Catherine’s head to crawl onto his face,

The eight octopus legs growing around Catherine’s neck respectively inserted themselves into his eye sockets, nostrils, mouth, ears, and the back of his head, then their heads pressed tightly against each other, intimately close, even their pupils making contact.

The octopus legs injected the purest essence of nightmares into his madness brain,

It can be said to be the essence of the rapid growth Catherine experienced over the past month after her change in mentality, a kind of True Dream Liquid that can temporarily erase the gap between reality and dreams.

At the same time, Catherine wrapped William with her external giant octopus legs and together they fell into the swimming pool and floated on the surface.

[Dreaming]

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In a sea like spilled ink, a black, unmanned wooden boat drifted,

The place where the boat was seemed to be torn open by a peculiar force, creating a narrow gap, and a man and a woman squeezed out from between the gaps, falling onto the boat in succession.

This sea area seems to follow an inviolable rule,

The man and woman who accidentally arrived here couldn’t conjure their self-awareness and could only exist in the form of ’shells’.

However, the hint of life seeping from the man’s abdomen was telling the sea that he was not one of the dead, while the wriggling tentacles on the woman’s face also testified to the identity of a living person,

and the black sea would not accommodate such ’impurities’ of the living.

The ink-like waves leaped high, like a black hand slapping onto the boat, smack! Wood splinters flew, and the man and woman vanished.

Consciousness gradually returned to the body,

and the first thing felt was an extreme fatigue, not even having the strength to open the eyelids,

struggling for a long time, for hours or even days,

during which it even felt like nutrients were being injected into the body through the arm, until the trembling eyelids were toughly gathered, revealing black but bright pupils,

and what came into view was not Catherine’s pool, not the Clown House, nor was it the black sea.

But rather a ceiling with watermarks, a tiny, pitiful window with iron bars, and bandages binding the whole body.

"Mental asylum?!"

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