188: Chapter 188 Rhine Enters the Fire

The second signal from the Distant Sea was burned in by Rhine herself.

When the Grey Net intercepted it, the edges of the signal packet were scorched black. It wasn't the golden-red of the Torch's Purifying Flame; it looked more like someone had forcibly branded a message into the darkness in a place without fire, using only body heat, blood, and the last bit of electrical charge, carrying a dying heat.

Bai Ya glanced at the screen, and his expression immediately darkened.

Rhine was on the run.

The camera shook violently, as if the person filming was sprinting while looking back. The night on the Clockless Shore was more oppressive than the day; the streets were as narrow as a constricted throat, all windows were sealed with black cloth, and not a sliver of light could escape from under the door gaps. The pendulum clocks nailed to the walls had all turned their hands, pointing in unison in the same direction—the Clock Tower.

Rhine's voice squeezed out from the static, panting heavily, as if her lungs were filled with cold fog.

"The sixth shelter has fallen."

"The Clock Collectors have started registering members of the Rhine line."

"They don't kill... they make everyone admit they deserve to be collected."

She paused, her voice hoarse: "I brought twelve people out. Seven more are left at the bottom of the Clock Tower."

Hearing this, Zhao Ye's expression changed instantly.

"She wants to go back."

No one argued.

They were too familiar with this type of person. Han Yue was like this, Chen Fu was like this, and Deputy Captain He Yuan was too. Even knowing that going back meant almost certain death, they would still turn around. It wasn't that they weren't afraid of death; it was that they were afraid that if they left, there would be no one left behind to reach out a helping hand.

Tang Zhiwei's voice cut into the reality channel, sounding a bit urgent: "Can we provide support? Can the Spark Post Road set up a temporary line?"

"We cannot open the post road." Shen Qinghe spoke first, her fingertips pressing against the fate-illuminating bronze bell in her palm. "The cross-sea coordinates are too unstable. The Distant Sea also has the Clock-Prohibition Rule; if we force a connection, we might end up dragging the Clockless Shore right to the gates of Linhai."

Zhao Ye gritted his teeth: "So we just watch her die?"

"I can send a small lamp over."

Bai Ya suddenly spoke. He rested his fingertips on the Patrol Crow Lamp, and the flame of the black-feathered lamp flickered slightly.

Shen Qinghe frowned: "You're not in a good state. The backlash from having the last Raven Shadow shredded hasn't faded yet."

"I know."

"You don't know." Xu Minglan's voice cut in abruptly, like shards of ice. "You just vomited blood. If you send another one, your lamp will be dimmed for half a year."

Bai Ya looked at the lamp in his palm and smiled, though there was no humor in it: "There's still a difference between vomiting blood and dying."

Xu Minglan cursed directly.

This was a rare loss of composure for her, and the channel went silent for a moment.

Bai Ya didn't quip back.

"The Rhine line doesn't need us to go over and fight right now." He set aside his usual laziness, his voice very clear. "What they lack isn't combat power, but a path to follow. It's pitch black, and without a guide, one wrong step leads them straight into the arms of the Clock Collectors."

Lu Chen stood before the Fire Map, his gaze landing on that blurry dark zone of the Distant Sea.

Without an anchor, without a Fire Beacon, without a Lamp-Keeping Zone, there was very little the Torch could send over. Bai Ya's Patrol Raven Shadow was indeed one of the few things that could slip along the edge of the signal. But if it were shredded by the Clock Collectors again, the backlash would only be heavier than the last time, and it might directly damage the Foundation of his Guardian Lamp.

Bai Ya knew this himself.

So he didn't look at anyone else, but raised his eyes to look at Lu Chen.

"Will you give it or not?"

Lu Chen asked: "Can you come back?"

Bai Ya was silent for half a second.

"I'll try."

"I want a definite answer."

Bai Ya raised his eyes, a hint of fatigue in them, along with his usual impatience: "Fire Keeper, there's nothing definite about intelligence work. What you can be certain of is called a food delivery."

Zhao Ye almost cursed out loud.

But Lu Chen wasn't angry.

The firelight fell on the Patrol Crow Lamp, warm and gentle.

"Only send the lamp, don't chase after people. Withdraw as soon as it's delivered; do not engage in battle."

Bai Ya clicked his tongue: "Strict, aren't you."

"Promise me."

Bai Ya looked into his eyes and finally nodded.

"Promise."

A Raven Shadow flew out of the black-feathered lamp. It was smaller than the previous ones, like a spark wrapped in feathers, so light it was almost invisible. It followed the edge of Rhine's remnant signal and plunged into the black line of the Distant Sea, vanishing in an instant.

On the screen, Rhine led twelve people into a dead-end alley.

In front was a sealed brick wall.

From behind came the sound of rhythmic footsteps, steady and unhurried, like a death-knelling pendulum.

A child holding an old clock was trembling with fear, mouth pouting to cry, but his mother clamped her hand over his mouth so hard her knuckles turned white. Rhine glanced at the brick wall, turned, and walked to the corner, inserting the polished copper key into an inconspicuous iron cover.

There was no keyhole on the iron cover at all.

Yet she forced the key in anyway.

"Everyone, get in."

Someone said with a sob: "That's a drain... it doesn't lead anywhere, people have tried before."

"It didn't lead anywhere before."

Rhine kicked the iron cover open; it was so dark inside it felt like it could swallow people whole.

"Now someone has lit the way for us."

No sooner had she spoken than a speck of grayish-white firelight fell from the darkness and drifted into the drain.

It wasn't big.

It was only enough to illuminate half a step.

But that's how people are; as long as they can see the first step, they dare to take the second.

Rhine pushed the child down first, then urged the others to go inside, staying behind to cover the rear.

The footsteps at the alley entrance stopped.

A Clock Collector stood at the alley entrance.

The figure wore an old-fashioned black suit and white gloves; it had no facial features, only a smooth clock face. There were no hands on the clock face, yet it was cracked with a thin fissure, as if something had smashed it.

It didn't chase.

It simply raised its white-gloved hand and gently shook the copper bell in its hand.

There was no sound.

Yet Rhine's knees went weak, and she almost collapsed to the ground as a faint buzzing noise flooded her ears.

In Xinhuo Hall, Bai Ya slammed his hand onto the Patrol Crow Lamp, a sweetness rising in his throat. He forced himself to swallow it, but a streak of blood still seeped from the corner of his mouth.

"Go." He said in a low voice, his tone incredibly hoarse.

Rhine seemed to hear it.

She bit the tip of her tongue, the sharp pain bringing her back to her senses instantly, and she leaped into the drain.

The final image was of the Clock Collector standing at the alley entrance, slightly tilting its head toward the direction of the Raven firelight.

It had no mouth.

Yet Bai Ya heard a sentence clearly, as if it were whispered right against his ear, cold and flat:

[This lamp, noted.]

Darkness instantly swallowed the Raven Shadow.

Bai Ya leaned back, caught steadily by Zhao Ye.

The Patrol Crow Lamp did not go out.

But on the wick, there was an extra thin black mark, like a wound that would never heal.

It took a long time for the Grey Net to pop up feedback; there were very few words, but they carried heavy weight.

[Rhine line twelve people have deviated from the original route.]

[Sixth shelter confirmed fallen.]

[Clock Collector has recorded the Patrol Crow Lamp identifier.]

Bai Ya leaned against the chair back, eyes closed, his voice very soft: "A loss."

Zhao Ye, with a cold face, shoved a bottle of medicine into his hand: "Twelve people survived."

Bai Ya didn't open his eyes or argue.

The drain was very dark and damp, filled with the smell of mold and the salty stench of seawater.

The child tripped and fell, his mouth pouting to cry. Rhine quickly covered his mouth and whispered in his ear: "Look at the light in front."

The child nodded, tears in his eyes, staring fixedly at that flickering grayish-white firelight ahead.

The light was weak, trembling with every breath of wind, as if it would go out in the next second. Yet it was this tiny bit of light that kept the dozen or so people from trampling over each other in the darkness, kept them from looking back at the Clock Tower out of fear, and kept them moving one step at a time, treading on the slippery steps, walking into the depths.

Rhine walked at the very end, looking back once in the direction of the alley entrance.

There were seven people left behind whom she hadn't been able to bring out.

It wasn't that she didn't want to save them. She just knew that if she stood back there for one more second, the twelve people behind her would also be written into the Clock Collectors' list.

Many choices sound heroic, but when they actually fall to your feet, they only have one taste.

Bitter.

She swallowed that bitterness, like swallowing a piece of broken glass, and turned to follow the light ahead.

Bai Ya watched quietly from the other end and suddenly understood another meaning of the Patrol Lamp.

It was never about lighting up the whole road for everyone.

Sometimes, it's just about letting people not die on the first step.

Xu Minglan remotely added a prominent red mark to Bai Ya's medical record: Forbidden from consecutive patrols, violators will be forcibly suspended. Seeing that line, Bai Ya reached out to delete it, but Zhao Ye pressed his wrist down. The two held a stalemate for two seconds, and Bai Ya let go first—he really didn't have the strength to compete with Zhao Ye's grip right now.

The Patrol Crow Lamp sat quietly on the table, the black mark on the wick like a tiny scar, reminding everyone: The Distant Sea is no longer just a one-way distress signal.

It is a line that can bite back.

The twelve people of the Rhine line had not yet left their names. It wasn't because they weren't important, but because they didn't dare to send their real names out yet. The Clockless Shore listens for names, and it also listens for bell tolls. Lu Chen had Zero record their movement trajectory using numbers first, and when Rhine confirmed it was safe, they would add their real names to the Torch's Roll of Honor.

Not all protection needs to have a name written on it immediately.

Sometimes, it is more important to let people live until the moment they can state their names with dignity.

On the Fire Map, in the dark zone of the Distant Sea, there was one more imperceptible grayish-white spark.

It was very small, but it hadn't gone out.

Rhine had entered the Torch.

The light of the Torch had finally dropped its first seed into the darkness of the Clockless Shore.