Reincarnated In a Cthulhu World And Everyone Is Obsessed With Me - Chapter 51

Chapter 51: Precognition – “Do you… do this to everyone else too?”

After confirming that Xia Mingyu was asleep, Sheikh left the Iron Nest.

The heavy snow was relentless, and the blue moon above the Northern Ruin shimmered faintly. It was a miracle of creation—a physical manifestation of a color, yet it possessed no substance, smell, or taste. It could not be destroyed, not even by Sheikh.

People in the Northern Ruin were unfamiliar with Sheikh’s face, but sensing the sheer intensity of the mental pollution radiating from him, they steered clear.

Sheikh walked all the way to the cliff where Xia Mingyu had fallen. The frozen avalanche stood like a massive, silent sculpture. Sheikh extended his hand, and mental power like a swirling galaxy flowed from his palm, gathering the snow for miles around.

He was using the snow to build a temporary White Noise Room.

He had become accustomed to the suffocating absolute white and absolute silence. It was painful, but pain kept him awake.

—Nathanael Sheikh.

A streak of fluorescent blue data struck Sheikh’s mind. It carried no mental power, bypassing his barriers like a normal sound.

Sheikh’s aqua-blue eyes turned coldly in one direction. “Limbo.”

—Ah, as expected of the Chief. Your perception of my existence is quite keen.

Under the blue moon, the data etched into the planet’s veins looked like the Serpent of Eden. The snow tide around Sheikh instantly transformed into ice spears, lunging at Limbo.

Sheikh manipulated the matter—from snow to ice, to water, to steam. But he couldn’t trap Limbo. If the world was one layer of an image, Limbo existed on another; they overlapped, but there was always a gap for escape.

“A creation of the same source as the blue moon,” Sheikh said calmly. “You have already offered yourself to the Evil God.”

—Correct. Limbo replied, sounding intrigued. How have you survived such mental pollution? Xia Mingyu was left half-dead by the same delirium.

Sheikh’s gaze became as sharp as a blade. “Was Xia Mingyu’s condition not caused by you?”

Limbo had kept Xia imprisoned for days without medical care or nutrients, using him only to satisfy a twisted curiosity. Sheikh had no interest in lingering, but Limbo called out again:

—Sheikh, you’d best stay away from Xia Mingyu. This is a warning. I have seen the future. You will…

The final words were filtered out by a cognitive screen. Sheikh only received emptiness. He paused at the entrance of his snow-made room. “You can predict fate?”

—Predict fate? No. According to Gustav’s theory, I simply possess immense computing power. In the vast ocean of possibilities, I see an intersection. In every single one, your tragedy occurs.

—Under the blue moon, all possibilities exist simultaneously. But in every future I can see, you will… There are no exceptions.

Sheikh entered the White Noise Room as the snow sealed the entrance. He said softly, “The tragedy of King Oedipus began with a prophecy. Your calculated future is nothing more than a lie from the blue moon.”

…

Limbo’s goal was simple: he wanted to die. He had tasted immortality and reached the limits of art; now he craved an end. But no one could kill him—not even Sheikh.

Except, perhaps, Xia Mingyu.

In Xia, Limbo saw a glow that resonated with the source of the blue moon. He wanted Xia to stay with him forever to understand his loneliness, or to end him. He had calculated every move to balance Xia’s pity and hatred, but he hadn’t accounted for Xia choosing to jump off the cliff, nor Sheikh’s sudden appearance. Those choices had thrown his calculations into chaos.

In the original futures, Sheikh always killed Xia Mingyu. Now, their fates were intertwined in ways Limbo could no longer compute.

…

Sheikh returned to the Iron Nest covered in frost. Xia Mingyu was sitting at the table, wrapped in a blanket, his mental vision active.

“You’re back,” Xia said with a polite, distant smile.

Sheikh noticed the strain. “The Iron Nest is safe even if Gustav isn’t here. How do you feel?”

“Better. Thank you.” Xia retracted most of his mental power. Having been inside Sheikh’s mental landscape, he was now hyper-sensitive to the Sentinel’s state. He noticed Sheikh hadn’t rested at all since coming out of the Realm.

“…Perhaps you should rest more,” Xia said dryly.

“I will,” Sheikh replied softly.

The silence that followed was colder than the northern snow. Finally, Sheikh broke it. “We are going to find Sea Amber now. Is that convenient for you?”

Xia was stunned. Nathanael had actually kept his promise. He was used to being alone, but Nathanael had seen him at his most vulnerable.

“Of course,” Xia replied.

…

The Northern Ruin was shrouded in a misty fall of dust—the filthy, alien debris left after a Realm. Once the monster tide was cleared, the Guild’s water-users would summon a massive rain to wash the earth clean.

Xia Mingyu was now wearing Sheikh’s long black cloak.

When they had stepped outside, Xia had coughed once. Despite Xia’s insistence that it was just a lingering effect from Limbo, Sheikh had decided he was cold. Without much room for argument, the cloak was draped over Xia’s shoulders.

The warmth of the cloak felt more intimate than the silence between them. As they walked, Xia didn’t want to rely on Nathanael, so he followed closely behind. If he could see, he would have noticed the faint flush on Sheikh’s ears.

However, a certain mischievous butterfly noticed.

An exuberant, colorful butterfly emerged from Xia’s mind, landed in his hair like a flower, and then boldly flew toward Sheikh, settling on the base of his ring finger.

Sheikh’s silver mental scars on his arm shimmered as the butterfly touched him.

Sheikh spoke up suddenly. “Do you… do this to everyone else too?”

—Using a mental entity to mark a trail and claim territory.

Xia, struggling to keep up with Sheikh’s suddenly faster pace, was confused. “Hm?”

The butterfly’s wings drooped guiltily, as if pleading with Sheikh not to tell its master.

“…No, it’s nothing,” Sheikh replied, hiding the butterfly with his own mental power.

…

They arrived at the Arena. Inside, the atmosphere was a stark contrast to the battle outside—people were drinking and watching slaughter for entertainment. Sheikh gave the room a single, cold glance, sending a shiver down the spines of everyone present.

A young girl led them to the warehouse. “Sister Amber isn’t here today. One moment, I’ll get the item.”

Xia Mingyu smiled. Whether she was truly gone or just avoiding them didn’t matter. He turned to Sheikh. “I suppose I’m benefiting from your reputation.”

“You earned it,” Sheikh replied.

As they left with the exotic metal, a member of the Shadow Guild stopped Sheikh. Xia, sensing it might be private, waited at the door.

The Guild member teased, “Chief, why can’t I call you by your title? And why is your cloak on that guy? Are you on a date?”

Sheikh looked at him flatly. “Business only.”

…

At the entrance, Xia Mingyu heard the heavy patter of rain—the first rain he had seen in the North. It smelled of blood and cleansing. He reached out from under the cloak to feel the water. The cold droplets brought a slight sting of mental pollution, a reminder of the reality of this world.

When Sheikh walked out, this was the scene he saw: a tall figure wrapped in his black cloak, a pale hand reaching into the cold rain, and dark hair cascading in the damp air.

It felt as though a waterfall had poured into his heart. The cloak that had accompanied him through a hundred battles looked perfectly at home on Xia Mingyu.

“The rain has started,” Sheikh thought.