Krafft's Notes on Anomalies

"You know, they said there's some underground gang or something like that here."

"I've heard of it. I've also heard that there are drowned ghosts that sneak out of the water prison and man-eating sea monsters that climb up from the sea at night."

Not far out of Elm Street, they soon stood in front of a group of not-so-pleasant buildings that one would associate with decay and mold just by looking at them from a distance.

Most of these dark-colored buildings are made of wooden boards. They grow out of the damp depressions and proliferate like bacterial colonies, spreading out densely.

It is not so much a man-made thing as it is some kind of alternative creature that grows in disorder. It continuously absorbs more tiny individuals, driving them to bring more materials, and it accepts all comers.

From shapeless reef rocks to wood of varying shapes and origins, all the city’s leftover and discarded materials are gathered here, stacked and spliced ​​in an amateurish way.

The only purpose is to make them form spaces that can barely accommodate human habitation. Apart from that, there is no time left to think about other things.

Over the course of several months or years, the wooden structure, which was already of poor quality, slowly but surely changed in the humid air, bending and breaking along the unreasonable direction of stress.

The owner needs to find new materials and repair these defects repeatedly. If there are holes, use boards to cover them, and when they are tilted, support structures are added outside. Neighboring residents often build their houses very close together and connect them with short wooden beams so that they can lean on each other and become a more stable whole.

Because there were few timbers that were thick and long enough, the house had to be built no closer than the shoulder width of a strong man, so that it could be connected with peripheral devices that were as dense as millipede appendages and out of proportion to the main body.

Even so, on the land that was soaked soft by sea water and lacked a stable foundation, any efforts would be doomed to be in vain after a longer period of time. Sooner or later the building will tilt to one side and fall to the ground under its own weight.

The usable wreckage was used, and another short-lived building grew on the ruins, repeating the fate of the former.

With this kind of planning, don't expect there to be any normal roads. Entrants need to advance between the twists and turns of dirty houses. They have to pass sideways in narrow places so as not to rub against the sticky wooden boards on both sides.

Lucius lowered his head to avoid a wooden stick stuck out at an angle, with unpeeled bark still on the surface. Kraft stopped at the fork ahead and looked back to see if he was following.

"How are we going to get back later?"

Not long after entering the salt tide area, Lucius quickly lost his sense of direction after turning a few corners. They had hit several dead ends and frequently changed directions.

If they had come here with Liston, they should have felt scared in this maze and turned back wisely to avoid falling deeper.

"I remember the way." Kraft pointed to his head. The way he came was clearly imprinted in his memory. He outlined the path he had taken in his mind, forming a map. "This location is almost there. Let's find someone first." Ask before you continue walking in.”

After bypassing a messy pile of scrap materials, the two found the main entrance of the building in front of them, stretched out their hands and knocked on the wet door panel.

The person who opened the door was a skinny man with a calm expression. When he saw the strangely dressed visitor, he wiped it in front of his eyes, suspecting that he was hallucinating.

"Hello, we are doctors. Have you or any of your family members recently been sleeping longer and have difficulty waking up?" Kraft asked.

The skinny man looked at the bird-headed man who called himself a doctor in confusion, wondering why he asked this question.

Out of the desire to get rid of them as soon as possible, he still replied: "No, I am the only one here, and this has never happened. If you want to sell some medicinal powder, you are definitely in the wrong place, no one will bought."

"Then have you heard that there are people sleeping longer and longer nearby?" Kraft crossed out this point in his mind and continued to ask for other clues.

The skinny man became impatient with the clueless conversation and dropped a dry "I don't know", hoping that the two strangers would leave voluntarily and stop disturbing him.

Kraft felt his impatience, reached out and took out two copper coins from his wallet, spread them in his palm, "I don't have the habit of asking people to help me for free, can you think about it more carefully?"

The man reached out to get the money, but his black-gloved palm quickly turned and clenched, holding the copper coin in his fist, and disappeared from his eyes.

"Please think carefully, any news, as long as it is relevant."

He could feel the eyes looking at him from behind the red glass, refusing to take out the money until he got an answer.

The hands with long black nails scratched his face, and the skinny man searched his guts, trying to find one from the mess of rumors in exchange for the reward in front of him. He had no reason to let go of the two copper coins that were almost free.

Moreover, this kind of behavior reminded him of those rich people he had heard of who had strange habits and were willing to exchange money for things that normal people thought were completely useless. Maybe they could get something out of that heavy-looking money bag. Get more money.

"It seems that I heard something like this a few days ago. It was said that someone over there at the red caisson well lost his job because he overslept. Does this count?" He stuck out his tongue and licked his dry lips, staring at the coins he was holding. fist.

"Thank you, this is very useful." Kraft opened his palm and asked the skinny man to take two copper coins from his hand and stuff them into a strange part of his clothes. "Are you interested in earning a few more copper coins? I need someone to take care of me now. I’ll go over and take a look.”

"But I still have work to do today."

Earning some extra money and losing a job that you can still work for a few days are two different things. Even if you don't know math, you know which one is more important.

"What if I offer a black silver coin?"

"Two, I still have four days of work there." The decisive quotation convinced him that Kraft was a "rich man with strange habits" who could get more benefits.

Although he didn't know whether the price was fair or not, Kraft's intuition told him that he might have been wronged by others. Anyway, he already knew the place name, so he didn't mind shopping around for the touring fee.

"Okay, then someone else has to earn this silver coin." He left with a gesture, dragging Lucius with him who was carrying the box.

"etc!"

As soon as they took a few steps, someone behind them stopped them, "Just one silver coin. That's really stingy. I'm going to lose a whole four days of work."

The local guide led the two of them through the crooked alleyways and deeper into the salt tide area.

As we go deeper, the messy lanes become messier and narrower, and the messy support structures of the sheds become more complicated and cumbersome.

The closer it is to the inside, the longer it will exist. Just like the granulation tissue of an old wound, it wraps and connects. The regrown volume will always be larger than the original before it can approach the original strength. Repeated trauma causes more proliferation.

Kraft had the illusion that he was following the capillaries into the tumor. The outside is still barely visible, but deep down it has begun to necrotic due to lack of blood supply, and the discarded waste materials and household garbage are the pus it has formed.

They accumulate here, piled haphazardly wherever there is space, and the congested narrow passages become even narrower, adding to the aggravation in a vicious circle.

The sun gradually rises, and the warming rays squeeze into the gaps between the criss-crossing structures. Water vapor evaporates from the mixture of ground and garbage, carrying the smell of salty fishy, ​​musty and excrement. The passing hot wind sends it into the human nostrils. .

Wearing a beak mask stuffed with several layers of spices, Kraft still smelled such a smell, which became stronger and more penetrating when passing through large piles of garbage, which made him think about retracing his steps several times.

However, their guide seemed not to be affected at all, breathing these gases directly. It was unknown whether he was used to it or his sense of smell was completely destroyed.

The short distance on the map is negated here, and the subjective feeling of time is infinitely lengthened. After a long ordeal, their eyes suddenly became clear, and they stopped in a small clearing.

"Are you sure this is a red algae well?" Craft looked at the pile of rocks in front of him.

In this rare open space, a messy pile of stones was placed in the middle. It had nothing to do with the well in any way.

"It used to be a well, yes."

"before?"

"Just like its name, the water inside is as bitter and salty as sea water, and there are red seaweeds." The skinny man kicked a stone on the ground, "It was completely useless after being knocked out. Some people fell in in the middle of the night and were sealed to death. Already?"

This explanation is reasonable. With the low-lying offshore terrain and long-term seawater flooding, it is strange that there are several normal wells in the salt tide area.

"So can you give me the money?"

Kraft took out a black silver coin and handed it to him, ending the short-term employment relationship.

Next, he had to visit the suspected case in this area of ​​unknown size. They were surrounded by dilapidated and moldy buildings, and they didn't know where to start.

He stretched out his hand to support Lucius, and he could hear the heavy breathing through the thick mask, "I dare say this is the worst place I know."

"Who says it's not? Do you want to find a place to sit down before continuing?" Kraft took the box from his hand, patted his back, and helped him calm down.

The Salt Tide Zone was a bad place, but here it made him feel even worse. An indescribable sense of disobedience appeared at a certain moment, but he hadn't realized what was wrong.

At first, he thought it was the deteriorating environment that stimulated his senses. However, after gradually adapting, the sense of dissonance never went away. Stopping did not make him feel better, but made this feeling even stronger.

"How long do you think it will take for us to find it?" Lucius bent over, with his hands on his knees, and his beak almost penetrated his chest.

He didn't hear Kraft's response.

Kraft was silent for more than a minute. He discovered where the sense of dissonance lay. It was not the stimulation of the senses, but the lack of a certain feeling.

The sun was already much higher than the roof at this time, and they knew it was already eight or nine in the morning without the reminder from the clock tower. However, they stood in unreasonable silence, without even a faint sound of collision or conversation.

[I work as a laborer at the dock. I have to go there every day to find work. I usually get up very early...]

"It's not too early."

The author has a paper to write, and updates may be affected...

(iДi)