Chapter 5: The Use of the Puzzle Box
"Mr. Henderson, how much longer will the construction take? How's the supply collection going?"
After obtaining the puzzle box, Marcus returned to the estate overnight, finally feeling some relief.
During the past week, while constantly monitoring Kirsty and the others' movements, he was also overseeing the construction of the bunker in the back of the property.
This structure was a matter of life and death for him; he could only feel at ease if he personally supervised it.
Marcus was currently checking on the butler's progress.
"The main structure is complete; only the interior finishing remains."
"Also, we've collected over a thousand liters of blood through various channels, and we're continuing to collect more."
Butler Henderson looked at his young master with concern. What was he planning? Was he going to sacrifice himself to some dark entity?
He had tried to dissuade him, but Master Dean's attitude was firm. As a butler who had been loyal his entire life, all he could do was fully cooperate.
"The main structure is done—skip the finishing work. The blood supply is sufficient. Inform everyone that today is a day off; have them leave the estate."
Everything was proceeding according to plan.
The most important puzzle box was now in his possession; the moment of truth was about to arrive.
In the comics, this ice-themed box was given to Father McKenna at the cathedral by a homeless man acting as an intermediary for the Cenobites.
In this world, the Cenobites and their servants treated churches like their own territory.
They frequently desecrated religious symbols and killed people, and God seemed oblivious.
The Lament Configuration puzzles required individuals with extremely intense desires, chosen by the intermediary, to open them.
Even if Marcus obtained an ordinary puzzle box, he might not be able to solve it.
Only this ice-themed box could be opened with just an incantation, requiring no specific desire or sequence.
This puzzle box was Marcus's primary target.
After confirming the existence of Father McKenna in this world, Marcus had narrowed down the location of the ice box and began heavily promoting the meaning of his "Eternal Flame."
This was to attract the intermediaries serving the Cenobites, who might be near St. Michael's Cathedral, with imagery completely opposite to that of the ice box.
He believed that as long as the servants of the ice-aligned Cenobites heard about this crystal sphere, so blatantly proclaiming a world of fire, so diametrically opposed to ice, they would be drawn in.
They would definitely be furious and come to deliver their counter-message, giving him a taste of what a truly frozen hell felt like.
It was like someone suddenly announcing through all major media that one style of pizza was disgusting and that all versions across the country were banned, with only their preferred style allowed to be sold from now on.
Everyone would want to force them to try the banned version, making them taste it properly before talking.
After confirming that all the equipment was in place, Butler Henderson dismissed all the staff from the estate and then departed himself.
Marcus, carrying the case containing the puzzle box, walked along the garden path to the back of the estate and entered an inconspicuous storage shed.
He opened the floor hatch and descended the dark staircase to a depth of sixty feet.
This was an underground bunker, a favorite among wealthy Americans, built as a fallout shelter.
A pipe, about six inches in diameter, ran through the center of the ceiling, penetrating to ground level and extending from the shed to outside the property line.
Marcus sat on a tarp in the center of the room.
Candles surrounded him, forming a circle.
He sat cross-legged inside, shirtless, quietly waiting for the appointed time of 12:20 PM.
Marcus's first goal was to use the ice puzzle box to open the gateway to the Cenobites' dimension and summon them.
Then, after dying and entering their realm, as a damned soul, he would use the prepared blood to quickly escape back to the human world in a very short time.
Marcus hadn't intended to become a full Cenobite in one step.
Because the souls of transformed Cenobites would be firmly controlled by Leviathan, the god of their labyrinth, and their memories would be rewritten.
Leviathan wouldn't care about ordinary damned souls; he wouldn't bother controlling them.
Theoretically, as long as he escaped quickly enough, he could avoid being driven mad by that hellish environment.
This world was insane; to succeed, one had to be ruthless.
If you didn't seize the opportunity to fight, there was only death; to survive, you had to take extreme risks.
He checked his watch: 12:19.
Noon had arrived!
Marcus took a deep breath and steeled himself.
He took out a knife from the case beside him and placed it in front of him, then picked up the puzzle box and held it in his hands.
The intricate geometric patterns seemed to shift and pulse, the brass mechanisms humming with otherworldly energy, seemingly urging Marcus on, or perhaps celebrating.
"Hell has no sulfurous fire,"
Marcus murmured.
"Only the bitter winter."
As soon as he finished speaking, the puzzle box in his hands activated.
A biting wind poured down from the ceiling, and a flurry of ice crystals fell into the room.
A slash of frost, like a sharp blade, tore apart the crucifix hanging on the wall, as if even Christ himself was grieving.
Heavy footsteps echoed on the stairs. Marcus swiftly grabbed the knife and plunged it into his chest, then turned to look.
What a face it was! It was like a corpse frozen in permafrost, its chest exposed with a gaping wound, from which the cries of countless souls echoed.
A mouth full of icy fangs opened with difficulty, uttering hoarse words, each syllable distinct:
"I heard your invocation, and have come to enlighten your dreams."
"Our realm is what remains when heaven falls away."
"There is no God here, no demons, only endless cold, emptiness, solitude, and silence."
The ice-themed Cenobite intoned as it slowly approached Marcus.
A notification echoed deep within Marcus's mind:
[Story Mission 1: Activate the Lament Configuration (Mission Completed, 5000 Survival Points, 10% Exploration Progress, Story Rating Improved)]
Marcus had no time to pay attention.
He only felt endless cold; his body, like a fractured block of ice, shattered piece by piece, collapsing to the ground.
Before his body completely disintegrated, Marcus was already utterly dead. Everything returned to silence, leaving only the ice puzzle box on the ground.
Marcus felt himself falling into endless darkness.
Memories drifted around him, the most painful memories of his past life vividly resurfacing, trying to torment his soul.
Another notification echoed deep within Marcus's mind:
[Story Mission 2: Enter the Labyrinth (Mission Completed, 5000 Survival Points, 35% Exploration Progress, Story Rating Improved)]
[Exploration progress reached 30%, one return ticket to this world's storyline obtained]
Marcus no longer had the energy to pay attention to these notifications. He guessed that he had entered a psychological torment chamber in their dimension. He originally thought that an unqualified soul like his, without extreme dark desires, would only end up in the deepest pit at the edge of the labyrinth.
Unexpectedly, he had gone even higher in their hierarchy. Fortunately, these torturous memories were all related to his current body's previous occupant, not his original life, so the short-term pain was still within his tolerance.
This actually made his fragmented memories clearer, and he recalled all sorts of forgotten plot details.
The butler waiting outside the estate looked at his watch: 12:30 PM, time had come.
He waved to the confused contractor beside him who was operating the pump and led him to the storage shed at the back.
"Connect the hose to this outlet, yes, like that, turn on the valve."
As the butler finished speaking, blood gushed out, flowing along the pipe all the way to the bunker sixty feet below.
The blood fell directly onto the tarp in the middle of the room.
The tarp, upon contact with the blood, reacted as if scalded by boiling water, oozing a pool of amniotic fluid-like substance.
The blood congealed into a mass of flesh, which began to grow, forming a beating heart in the blink of an eye.
Two bones gradually grew from either side of the heart, supporting it off the ground and making it stand upright on the tarp.
A skull then emerged from the mass, and a spinal column grew above the heart, connecting with the skull to form the upper body of a skeleton.
As the blood was absorbed, the skeleton rapidly completed itself, growing muscles and skin.
Marcus looked down at his newly formed body; the pain of exposed muscles in the air had disappeared as the skin took shape.
Haha. Haha.
Marcus laughed triumphantly; he had won his gamble.
He had become a damned soul who had escaped from their dimension back to the human world.
The swift and effective escape, the brief journey through that realm, had not changed or distorted his soul.
Feeling the power beyond human limits, this ease and vitality brought him extreme pleasure.
Like the satisfying relief after scratching an itch, or the sudden clearing of a stuffy nose from a cold, amplified a thousandfold—that was Marcus's current feeling. This sensation of becoming stronger fascinated him.
Moreover, he could feel that he possessed two essential abilities of a damned soul: Regeneration and Skin Transfer.
[Regeneration]: Unless the heart is completely destroyed, no matter the severity of the injury, the body can be quickly restored by absorbing blood.
It felt like being a vampire, but he couldn't fly, nor did he have the vampire's weakness to sunlight. Just like Frank, who became a damned soul in the movie, he could eat, drink, and function normally.
The other ability...
[Skin Transfer]: This ability allows the creation of wearable disguises from the skin of the dead, enabling the user to mimic the appearance and voice of the deceased.
After checking his newfound abilities, Marcus immediately sent out five messages, informing the five teams already on standby that the plan was canceled and they no longer needed to infiltrate the estate at their respective times.
Since his resurrection plan was at stake, Marcus naturally wouldn't put all his eggs in one basket, relying solely on the butler's cooperation.
He had secretly arranged for five backup teams, unaware of each other's identities, to infiltrate the estate at staggered times and release the blood supply.
Fortunately, nothing unexpected happened; Mr. Henderson was trustworthy.
Marcus picked up the puzzle box, rolled up the tarp, and headed toward the surface.
(End of Chapter)
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