Mystery: Gray Walker

Chapter 72 Linus's Diary

The desk was piled high with all sorts of letters and notes.

Despite his discomfort, Green quickly flipped through a few pages.

Judging from the titles and notes, the contents are mostly explicit love letters between the Viscount and his various mistresses, filled with straightforward descriptions and desires for physical pleasure.

There were also bills and receipts for purchasing "special supplies" and "tonics," with staggering amounts involved.

However, among these lewd and chaotic items, Green noticed something incongruous.

In the bottom drawer of his desk, he found a hardcover diary. It began with entries about the help his personal physician, Veronica, had given him.

The notes were neatly written, yet filled with sorrow.

Marianne, without you, Oberhafen is just a magnificent tomb. Today, I saw your favorite white roses blooming in the garden, and I stood there for a long time, but there was no one to share their beauty. The butler and servants were careful, but their eyes held only pity, not understanding. This loneliness is colder than the coldest winter.

...Another doctor has left, with his medicine kit and the same old "please accept my condolences" advice. They couldn't heal my heart; it was buried with Marianne. Are insomnia and headaches its unwilling protest?

"The Viscountess is dead? I didn't see her tonight, but judging from Viscount Linus's behavior at the banquet, apart from his unusual infatuation with his personal physician, he didn't seem to be sad at all..."

He quickly flipped through the pages, and later he found some unusual content, and his handwriting gradually became messy and excited.

"...Ms. Veronica is truly the most special doctor I've ever met. She not only cured my insomnia and headaches, but also restored my long-lost...vitality."

She said my body needed more "open" release, and that I couldn't keep suppressing the so-called "decency" of the aristocracy.

She also said that intense love is a powerful force that can even blur the lines between life and death.

She mentioned some ancient accounts of soul echoes... Could she really... help me?

Those paintings, those "complementary therapies" she recommended...at first I felt ashamed, but I have to say, they were very effective. I felt twenty years younger. She said it was releasing the power of the "source of life"...

Veronica proposed a bold plan.

She said that a bridge is needed to guide Mariana's "echoes" back.

This bridge must be built from the purest and most intense 'desire for life'. And one of humanity's most primal and powerful desires is... physical pleasure and union.

She said, "I've suppressed my feelings for too long. My longing for Marianne needs to find a more 'vital' way of expression to resonate with people."

I was shocked, even angry.

This is blasphemy against Marianne! But Veronica told me gently but firmly that if Marianne were in God's kingdom, she would never want me to wither away because of longing.

She wanted me to be happy, she wanted me to be "whole".

The most intense joy can ignite the most dazzling spiritual sparks, and that is the signal that Marianna might perceive.

She said this wasn't betrayal, but rather a call for love using the most primal human strength.

I tried it.

I find myself becoming increasingly fascinated by Veronica's body.

I could barely control myself, but she told me it was divine guidance, my longing for Marianne, and that it was sacred. I believe she was right.

"...I started dreaming about that tree."

Veronica said it was a "sacred tree," a symbol of life and joy.

She taught me how, at the peak of ultimate pleasure, I could infuse my "life force" and "longing" into the imagery of that tree through meditation. She said this was to accumulate "resources for the journey home" for Marianna's return...

"...I can't live without her. Not just physically, but spiritually. She showed me a completely new world, full of ultimate joy."

Those vulgar women can no longer satisfy me...

Only in the increasingly intense and unrestrained "physical pleasures" she orchestrated could I feel that trembling sensation of approaching the other shore...

The diary ends abruptly here, with the last few pages being roughly torn out.

Green closed his diary, and before he knew it, his palms were sweating.

There was something wrong with those trees. And the truth was far more twisted and tragic than he had imagined.

Based on the diary entries, Green guessed that Veronica had exploited the Viscount's deep love and obsession with his deceased wife, twisting it into a ladder leading to desire and depravity.

She also fabricated a shocking lie about "resurrecting her beloved," making the Viscount willingly become her puppet.

"Resurrect your deceased wife?" Green sneered.

He didn't believe that nonsense at all.

This was clearly a deception orchestrated by Veronica to achieve some ulterior motive. The Viscount was nothing more than a pathetic wretch and accomplice, exploited to the extreme.

The state of those guests affected by the special drinks is probably more than just being 'bewitched'...

What exactly is Veronica planning? And what does Veronica have to sacrifice in the whole process?

Everything comes at a price; this is not just an empty phrase.

He looked around and, seeing no other useful information, left the room. There was only one room left on the second floor, and he had to hurry.

This is a study, much more 'normal' than a bedroom. The air is devoid of the musky scent, instead smelling of paper, leather, and a faint dust.

It's obvious that no one has been here for a long time; they've even skipped cleaning.

The walls still display oil paintings on the theme of "trees," but the style here is noticeably different, more classical and tranquil, depicting mostly lush oak trees in the courtyard or quiet forests under the moon.

This contrasts sharply with the twisted and alluring "trees" in the bedroom and stairwell.

However, the most striking feature is a large portrait painting hanging on the wall directly opposite the desk.

The painting depicts a young woman wearing an elegant ivory-colored long dress, sitting in a wicker chair in a garden, with an open book on her lap.

She has soft brown curly hair, her azure eyes gaze gently at the scene beyond the frame, and a serene, happy smile plays on her lips.

Her hands were gently clasped together on her slightly protruding belly.

It was a clear, maternal, and radiant sign of pregnancy.

Below the portrait is the familiar handwriting: Mariana Fairfax.

"The Viscount's deceased wife?"

The woman in the painting is very lifelike; it must have been painted by a famous artist, and she is very well-preserved.

Green's gaze shifted from the portrait to the large mahogany desk.

The desk was tidy, with a beautiful silver photo frame containing the Viscount and Marianne's wedding portrait, both beaming with joy.

An ink bottle that had dried up, and a quill pen that hadn't been used in ages hanging on a pen rack. Several books on gardening and poetry lay open haphazardly, their pages yellowed.

He opened the desk drawer.

The top shelf contained ordinary letters and documents, seemingly from many years ago. The middle shelf held a neat stack of diaries, each with a different colored cover, but all appearing older than the one in the bedroom.

Green pulled out the top book and opened it.

The handwriting was from the Viscount's youth, more vigorous and powerful, and the content was full of aspirations for the future, plans for the territory, and... a burning, innocent love for Marianne.