Demon Hunter and His Cabin-Chapter 170 - Location of Number 48

Chapter 170: Chapter 170: Location of Number 48

Chapter 170 -170: Location of Number 48

Leaving the University of Bordeaux, Roger stood at the entrance and looked back at this centuries-old institution. Strangely, Dickinson’s bizarre gaze seemed to linger on him.

“What a weirdo.”

Dickinson’s attitude towards him had been odd, but now Roger couldn’t tell whether it was malice or goodwill. He just instinctively felt something was off and wanted to keep his distance.

He drove straight to the Bordeaux library, a place abundant with materials that facilitated his research and filled in the gaps.

The book’s cover was made of black goatskin and the content within was almost all handwritten, occasionally adorned with a few briefings.

It was evident that Dickinson was indeed a professor-level figure in historical research, as the entire book was dedicated to the content related to the Stuart Family.

Roger found a secluded corner and patiently began to flip through it.

On the first page of the book, a blooming daffodil was hand-drawn. Most daffodils have six petals, but the one depicted here had eight.

The black notes outlined the daffodil’s edges with weight, giving it an eerie feel at first glance.

In the Stuart Family, the number 8 held special significance.

On Narcissus Street, the numbers 8, 18, 28—every residence marked with an 8 stood for something special.

Narcissus Street number 8 was the busiest part of the street and also where the Stuart Family mansion was located.

As for the meanings behind the subsequent numbers, Dickinson didn’t record them in the book.

The black 8, like a twisted, coiling snake.

Then Roger flipped to the architectural diagram of Narcissus Street as it was initially constructed by the Stuart Family.

From beginning to end, the numbers stopped at 43; there were no further numbers.

“Narcissus Street number 48?”

“Could it be that Anna’s memory is flawed?”

“Did she actually mean 43 or some other number?”

Roger wasn’t entirely sure about this, as it had been nearly 100 years and much of the book’s information about the Stuart Family was based on conjecture, with not much that could be definitively confirmed.

Even in the ancestral register, he couldn’t find Anna’s name.

Just as Roger was confused, he suddenly noticed the pattern formed by the carved holes on the back wall of the house.

He turned the pattern in his hand, adjusting the angle bit by bit, until a light dawned on him.

“4 and 8.”

The seemingly random holes carved into the wall actually maintained the count of 4 and 8 in the inner and outer circles respectively.

Thinking back carefully on what he had seen in the Misty World, Roger realized that it could correspond with the pattern before him.

“Could the so-called Narcissus Street number 48 not be located on Narcissus Street at all?”

“Although named number 48, could it actually have been built somewhere else?”

A flash of insight crossed his mind.

For a family, the most important place that would typically be built away from the family residence but is indispensable would be the family graveyard!

“Could the so-called Narcissus Street number 48 not be a house at all, but a graveyard?”

Roger speculated.

After further deliberation, he felt that this guess could very well be true.

With this in mind, he began to quickly flip through related materials.

“What a strange family—ordinary residences built like tombs, while the family graveyard is named after a regular house number and constructed elsewhere.”

Roger spent several hours poring over the information before he stumbled upon a slight clue in an inconspicuous piece of information.

“The Stuart Family’s ancestral graveyard wasn’t built in Bordeaux City but was located in what is now Swamp Town!”

“Furthermore, they did not adopt the Hanging Coffin but followed Engelman’s tradition, choosing burial instead!”

“This is too strange!”

Roger furrowed his brow.

An outsider noble, when constructing their dwelling, adopted the local traditional burial structure, as if intentionally letting the living reside in the abode of the dead.

Yet peculiarly, in their family cemetery, they adhered to the traditional earth burial, but chose a location amidst the swamp, where the ground was most saturated and waterlogged in Swamp Town.

It was as if they were deliberately soaking their family members’ corpses in the swamp, completing some unspeakable secret.

Following this clue, Roger consulted some official records from that year, and on the registry, there it was recorded: Cemetery No. 48.

“It must be this!”

Roger clenched his fist excitedly, he felt that he was getting very close to the truth.

Anna’s memory was clearly flawed; she could no longer recall her family’s surname and origins, yet she remembered Narcissus Street and number 48, which is why she mentioned that address.

But why had she said her family was not far from nearby in the first place?

The woodlands near Baytown, as far as Roger knew, had no such claimed family presence, and although Anna was buried in Baytown, their family cemetery was located in Swamp Town.

“Strange.”

It seemed he had untangled the clues, but Roger’s confusion had only deepened.

Without delay, having found the clues, Roger drove straight to Swamp Town.

The address recorded on the registry was from nearly a century ago, and it was uncertain whether the Stuart Family had moved the cemetery when they left or if it had been completely buried in the shifting sands of time.

By the time Roger arrived in Swamp Town, it was already afternoon, and he grabbed some fast food on the street.

The address from the registry was a relic from nearly a hundred years ago, and upon investigation, the original cemetery had been redeveloped, now refurbished into a mental hospital.

Roger hadn’t expected that, after the Hannam incident, he would come to this place again.

Swamp Town Mental Hospital.

He requested to meet with Doctor Lunney at the door, and not long after, the gate opened; Roger drove into the courtyard, and Lunney was waiting at the door to greet him.

The middle-aged doctor looked more haggard than at their last meeting, but upon seeing Roger, he still managed a smile.

“Is there something I can help you with?”

Roger found Lunney’s enthusiasm a bit peculiar.

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“Thank you for your and that gentleman’s help.”

Lunney’s demeanor was even somewhat respectful.

“A few recent events have given me a new understanding of this world. The doll I received not long ago might harbor a dreadful malice.”

“Had it not been for you and the other gentleman…”

Clearly, Lunney had recently come into contact with some Transcendent events, which led him to speculate about his previous visit with Henrik.

But this worked out better for Roger, who nodded subtly, glossing over the topic, then swiftly explained his purpose.

“A cemetery?”

Lunney furrowed his brow.

“I seem to vaguely remember something like that.”

“Come with me, I’ll help you look up the information. The area is very large, and with so many years having passed, even if the cemetery is still there, it’s likely nothing remains.”

Lunney, an important figure in the mental hospital, led Roger to the records room.

He leafed through documents amidst dust, eventually pulling out a blueprint.

“It should be this one!”

He handed the blueprint to Roger.

“See if it is what you are looking for.”

Unfolding the blueprint, Roger’s gaze sharpened slightly.