Chapter 143 – A Strange Black-Market Underworld, Uniting the Power of Three Counties - Part 2
“Caw! Caw, caw—!”
The eerie cry startled him. He jumped back and craned his neck, squinting into the harsh sunlight to see a crow perched on the eaves.
“Ugh, bad luck!”
He snatched up a stone and hurled it at the crow. But the bird simply fluttered its wings and flew off, letting out more cackling cries that seemed to drip with ill omen.
A sudden chill crept through the narrow alleyways of the shanty district; a wind hissed in through cracks, rattling doors and windows with a sound like a weeping woman, laughing and crying all at once.
Bear spent the day working, then bought some cheap spirits to drink himself into a stupor. Finally, he crawled into the small tent pitched on open ground by the merchant caravan and lay on his side to sleep.
Before long, he sank into a deep dream.
His body began trembling, his breathing grew ragged, his chest rising and falling as if he had sprinted miles without stopping. In the dream, he found himself abruptly inside a dim, silent room. Harsh, blinding light poured in through a window, where a pale figure stood in white.
Bear tried to move but couldn’t. He tried to speak but no words came out.
Suddenly, he heard a child’s playful laughter from behind, soft and high as if from a little girl. Terror clutched his heart, and he wanted to turn around but couldn’t move an inch. A strange realization hit him.
This is a dream! Since it’s a dream, I just need to wake up! He struggled furiously, tried biting his tongue, anything to rouse himself. But he remained utterly paralyzed, unable to budge even his eyeballs.
Everything in that grim, silent room seemed frozen in place, charged with a skin-crawling menace. The only sound was that child’s laughter.