Mystery: Gray Walker

Chapter 24 Promotion to Apprentice

The girl was in her early twenties... with a smile on her face.

A small silver butterfly brooch was pinned to her chest, and a brand-new blue name tag hung below it, swaying gently as she tilted her head slightly.

Henry, abandoning his usual office formality, leaned forward slightly, his gaze fixed on the silver brooch as if he had pinned it there himself.

The food on the plates in front of the two was clearly different from what Green and his companions had eaten. There were golden-brown fried fish fillets, vibrant green vegetable salad, and even a small dish that looked like dessert.

The cutlery was also gleaming silver knives and forks, which clashed with the rough earthenware plates and wooden spoons around it.

This is what old Bob meant by "special treatment." Moreover, judging from the girl's clothes and demeanor, she was clearly not an ordinary factory worker or office worker.

Green's gaze lingered on that table for a few more seconds.

Henry seemed to sense something, looked up, and glanced across the cafeteria, his eyes briefly meeting Green's.

His smile quickly faded, replaced by a hint of managerial authority, but a fleeting, almost imperceptible embarrassment and displeasure at being interrupted flashed in his eyes. He then turned back as if nothing had happened and continued talking to the girl.

"Hmph." A soft snort came from the side.

Green turned his gaze back to old Bob across from him.

"Stop looking," old Bob put down his lunchbox and wiped his mouth with a handkerchief. "He knows how to 'enjoy' things better than anyone else. In a place like this, there's not much money to be made, but someone always manages to snag something different."

Green hesitated for a moment, then lowered his voice and asked, "Um... is he a family member? Can he eat in the cafeteria too?"

He remembered his uncle Victor saying that the port authority seemed to have a rule that non-employees might have to pay extra for meals or were not allowed to eat at all.

Old Bob glanced at Green, his eyes conveying a sense of "you're still too green, kid." He gestured towards Henry's table with his lip.

"Family member? Ha. That's a clerk in the clerical office, a new one who came recently, her name is... I think it's Lily or something. I heard Henry arranged for her to come in."

He paused, a slight smile playing on his lips. "He's the supervisor, after all. He's incredibly attentive to new colleagues, especially the pretty ones. I've heard that he sometimes even 'personally guides' them in their dorms, and they'll have lunch together to discuss 'the situation in the bureau.'"

Old Bob's words were vague, but the meaning couldn't be clearer.

Green understood immediately.

"No wonder... the supervisor really knows how to 'handle people'..." Green couldn't help but sigh.

"She really knows how to get along with people."

Green stopped looking over there and silently finished the last bit of food on his plate. The noise in the cafeteria seemed to grow louder, but Henry seemed isolated from his surroundings, as if separated by an invisible barrier.

This made him aware of the unseen hierarchies and rules within the port authority. Some people, even in the same canteen, ate different food and lived in different worlds.

Perhaps it's not just the port authority.

Old Bob had already packed his things and stood up.

"Go back to work after you finish eating. Take it easy this afternoon; that pile of junk isn't going to grow legs and run away."

He hunched over, preparing to leave, but as he walked past Green, he seemed to remember something and added in an almost inaudible voice, his gaze fixed elsewhere:

"West corner...under the box...be careful."

After saying that, he didn't linger and slowly blended into the departing crowd in the cafeteria.

Green sat there, pondering the other person's words. It seemed like they had intentionally reminded him that morning that old things... couldn't be shaken off.

He picked up the empty plate and walked towards the recycling area.

When Green returned to the two-story house, he remembered old Bob's words again. The other man had mentioned it twice, so it couldn't be without reason.

There might really be something hidden there, or... some kind of trouble that requires "caution".

Pushing open the door, one is greeted by a muffled, rhythmic snoring coming from Old Bob's duty room.

Green had intended to ask the other party what was at the bottom of the box, but seeing this, he gave up the idea of ​​asking immediately.

For someone like old Bob, that was the limit of what he had said. Besides, Henry had also warned him that old Bob had an eccentric personality. If he pressed on, he probably wouldn't get any more information, and might even offend the other man.

Some things can only be seen and judged by oneself.

Thinking of this, he walked back to the underground warehouse, his "territory".

"West corner...under the box..."

Green's gaze involuntarily drifted to the west. There, the clutter seemed more abundant and more disorganized than elsewhere.

Several large wooden crates, their original color no longer discernible, were stacked together, leaning against a broken filing cabinet, a rickety chair, and a pile of unidentified objects covered with an oilcloth.

"Don't touch that area for now."

Having made up his mind, he continued to clean up the trash, trying to make more space for himself.

Finally, as the afternoon sunlight began to turn a slightly yellowish hue and the shadows of the two-story building gradually lengthened and spread, the snoring in the duty room stopped.

A short while later, the door to the underground warehouse was pushed open. "It's time to go home."

Green looked up, wiped the sweat from his forehead, and replied, "It's okay, I'll leave as soon as I finish what I'm doing."

Old Bob stood in the doorway and said slowly, "Young people are full of energy. If Henry knew how capable you are, he'd be laughing his head off, but don't expect him to give you a raise; that guy's incredibly stingy."

After saying that, old Bob turned and left.

Green stopped what he was doing and listened intently. Only when he was sure that old Bob's footsteps had faded into the distance did he quietly step onto the stairs and peek out through the crack in the door.

Old Bob, with a pipe dangling from his lips, swayed away from the small building, his figure gradually disappearing into the twilight.

Feeling uneasy, Green waited for about twenty more minutes. Seeing that the other person had not returned, he quietly closed and locked the door.

The underground warehouse fell silent instantly.

He walked to the relatively clean area he had cleared, sat down on the wooden chair, and took a deep breath.

it's time.

Green took the small crystal bottle from his pocket. The pale golden liquid shimmered softly in the dim light.

He unscrewed the bottle cap, and a strange fragrance wafted out. It wasn't floral; the scent was indescribable, as if it came from a distant time and space, carrying the aroma of ancient wisdom.

"Apprentice... Extraordinary..."

He didn't know what the consequences would be after taking it, but Lillian wouldn't lie to him, it shouldn't be... too severe...

All power comes at a price.

"All power comes at a price..." Grimm repeated the words in a low voice, then tilted his head back and drank the liquid in the bottle in one gulp.

The moment the potion entered my mouth, a cool sensation slid down my throat and spread rapidly.

At first it was just a cool sensation, but soon the coolness turned into a burning sensation, as if countless tiny electric currents were coursing through his body.

Green gritted his teeth, forcing himself to stay awake, and following Lillian's previous instructions, concentrated his mind and tried to guide this unfamiliar power.

My vision started to blur.

It wasn't dizziness, but everything around me.

The walls, the mountains of files, the dim light—everything began to blur and distort.

He saw more.

Tiny dust particles float in the air, each one clearly visible, slowly swirling and drifting down, as if performing some kind of mysterious dance.

The stains on the wall, which were originally mottled, now appeared as complex patterns in his eyes, like fragments of some ancient script.

Even more strangely, he "senses"... space.

It's not about seeing with your eyes, but about 'touching' with some new sense.

He could sense the distance between himself and the walls, the height of the ceiling above his head, and the boundaries of the underground warehouse...

This perception was exceptionally clear, as if he could walk freely in the darkness even with his eyes closed.

However, at that moment, a sharp pain suddenly struck.

It wasn't the body, but something deeper. It was as if countless tiny needles were piercing his brain, trying to pry open certain sealed areas.

Fragments of memory emerge uncontrollably:

In the final moments of the world before I traveled there, in a gray dream, in that dusty room, the revolver in the glass cabinet...

Fragments of the original owner, Grimm Morris's, childhood: his parents' blurred faces, his younger sister Sura's childhood laughter, his aunt's caring greetings, his uncle's serious silence, and Emily's mockery...

The twisted monster in William's attic, Clarice the white cat with her emerald green eyes, Lillian's cunning smile...

These images swirled and collided wildly, almost tearing his consciousness apart.

"Aaaaaah—!"

Remember, focus your mind, guide your spirituality, and feel the change.

Lillian's words of advice came back to mind.

"Focus...guide..." Green roared inwardly, his nails digging deep into his palms, drawing blood.

He forced himself to focus on the perception of 'space,' imagining himself as a drop of water merging into this dark ocean. He imagined himself as a wisp of wind, passing through the gaps between mountains of files.

Green felt like he was soaring... soaring uncontrollably...

Gradually, the violent force that had been trying to tear his consciousness apart began to subside and became docile, flowing slowly along the path he had guided.