The deepest mining tunnels in the Frostyrock Mountains had been exhausted decades ago, and the "blood" upon which this city-state depended for its survival was likely the result of some kind of twisted phenomenon. Deep beneath the Boiling Gold Mine lay a gate left behind by the first city hall, and the current city hall and magistrate were likely participants and maintainers of this secret.

Even the well-trained, disciplined Guardians who frequently dealt with various dangerous and bizarre entities couldn't help but fall into silence and astonishment upon hearing this news.

In addition to their astonishment, they also understood why this operation was classified and why the Gatekeeper had waited until everyone was down in the mine to reveal the specific situation.

Such news, even without considering the threat posed by the supernatural phenomena behind it, was enough to stir up a storm in the city-state simply due to the truth of the "mine vein depletion" itself!

"We cannot yet be certain whether all the mine tunnels were depleted decades ago, nor can we be certain what exactly is being transported out of this mine after the mine veins have been exhausted—the only thing we can be sure of is that if all of this is truly a product of some kind of 'contamination,' and if the current anomalies in the city-state are related to this contamination, then we are now located at the origin and deepest point of that contamination."

Agatha's gaze swept over her subordinates, her tone as calm and steady as ever.

"I believe everyone knows the situation on the surface. I also know that you have had doubts, wondering why the most elite squadron has been sent here at such a critical moment to investigate some mine tunnels—I am as worried as you are about our compatriots fighting monsters in the mist and the battles on the surrounding seas.

"However, we are also on the battlefield at this moment—investigating the situation in this mine is the greatest way to help our comrades in other places, to find the source of the crisis at its root, which is better than pointlessly fighting those monsters in the thick fog.

"That's it. Does anyone have any questions?"

She looked around and saw the same calm and firm expressions on her subordinates' faces as always, so she nodded slightly.

"Alright, then we'll begin our operation. Our target is the deepest mining level. Pay attention to observing the dark environment along the way and constantly check the condition of the ventilation and lighting equipment. Everyone received a set of mine self-rescue equipment when they came down. Now put on your masks and open the external circulation valve—you all remember how to use it, right? If you encounter a situation, rotate the valve clockwise to internal circulation and pull out the self-rescue device's pin, and quickly retreat to the main roadway, prioritizing your own survival."

The Guardians, priests, and nuns immediately executed the order, placing their breathing masks over their mouths and noses, checking the condition of the connecting tubes and circulation valves, and securing the special underground lamps to the loops on their chests to avoid affecting their movements.

Agatha, however, did not wear a mask—as a Gatekeeper of the God of Death, her physique was already different from that of ordinary humans, especially in terms of "breathing." Ordinary toxic gases and suffocating environments would not affect her actions.

Just as her subordinates were preparing to depart, a faint hissing sound suddenly entered Agatha's ears.

At first, she thought it was the sound of the circulation valves on her subordinates' masks as they breathed, but soon, she realized that the hissing sound was coming from somewhere further away—outside the crowd, in the shadows beyond the reach of the lights.

"Attention!" Agatha reacted instantly, issuing a warning, and in the next second, several other Guardian warriors also noticed the sound of a valve leaking air in the darkness, and several beams of light simultaneously shone in that direction.

In the haze of light and mist, Agatha saw a figure emerge from that dark corner—a figure wearing a thick black coat, a gas mask, and seemingly carrying a firearm.

The figure was lying in a pile of debris, breathing with difficulty, the hissing sound coming from his gas mask.

Why would someone suddenly appear here? The Guardians had checked the entire transfer point before, and it was impossible to miss such an obvious figure!

Questions instantly flooded Agatha's mind, but her movements didn't hesitate as she walked towards the seemingly dying figure, followed closely by the Guardians.

"...It's a city-state soldier," one of the Guardians instantly identified the downed man's equipment, "the Magistrate's direct guard."

Agatha quickly glanced at the soldier, seeing that he was wearing a metal breastplate over his thick black coat, and the power lines connecting the breastplate and arm guards were broken. The military-grade breathing mask covered almost his entire face, and it was only possible to judge that he was a male soldier from his figure—and his fatal wound was near his chest, and it seemed that his internal organs had been severely injured.

One of his arms was broken, and the other hand was still tightly clutching a rifle.

As if stimulated by the sudden appearance of light, the soldier wearing the breathing mask suddenly moved after Agatha approached, seemingly trying to raise his head.

The surrounding Guardians were instantly startled and subconsciously raised their weapons, but Agatha waved her hand, stepped forward, and leaned down slightly.

"Who are you?" she asked.

"Magistrate's Guard... Martin... Blade... Sergeant..."

"Sergeant Blade, why are you here?"

"Magistrate... Winston..." The guard warrior, who identified himself as Sergeant Blade, rasped, the sound under the breathing mask growing more and more difficult. He mentioned the Magistrate's name and struggled to raise his arm, seemingly wanting to point somewhere, "Mr. Winston... entered a secret chamber... we need... support..."

He didn't finish speaking. His arm suddenly lost its strength, and the last rapidly weakening hissing sound came from under the breathing mask.

He died, and in the next second after his life had departed, Agatha saw foul black mud slowly oozing out of his wounds and under the mask—the corpse rapidly disintegrated as if melting, emitting a chilling, viscous squelching sound.

"A counterfeit!"

The surrounding Guardians reacted instantly, quickly retreating, while the accompanying priest suddenly stepped forward, simultaneously scattering a handful of pre-prepared mixed powder onto the rapidly disintegrating corpse and throwing a ball of pale fire at the corpse.

With a boom, pale flames rose into the air, and the counterfeit corpse was engulfed by the flames in the blink of an eye. After the rapid and brief combustion, only a pile of dried-up, non-writhing black mud remained in place, along with lingering heat in the air.

Agatha watched this scene with a calm expression. The moment the figure appeared, she realized that he might also be a duplicate emerging from the thick fog, and now, she thoughtfully turned her head to look at the place where the "Sergeant Blade" had pointed before his death.

"In this direction..." she murmured softly.

"Gatekeeper, that was just the bewitchment of a counterfeit," the priest beside her couldn't help but step forward to remind her, "it could be an enemy trap."

"But it doesn't seem to know that it's a counterfeit," Agatha shook her head slightly, "remember the intelligence we gathered before? These 'counterfeits' seem to come in three types: one is muddle-headed, attacking all living people; one seems to be controlled, destroying the city in an organized manner; and the other seems to retain the memories and emotions of the original, and doesn't even realize that it's a fake..."

The priest paused, his tone hesitant: "You mean..."

Agatha's eyes seemed somewhat complicated for a moment, but no one noticed her momentary hesitation. After a brief silence, she said in a calm tone: "This 'counterfeit' was copied not long ago. It may retain memories from a few hours ago or even less—on the other hand, ever since we came down into the mine, the news from the City Hall has been delivered by the chief secretary, and Magistrate Winston seems to be missing."

The priest quickly reacted, understanding Agatha's meaning.

"The counterfeit is a fake, but its memories are real," he said quickly, "Magistrate Winston may have really come here with a team of soldiers not long ago, and one of them, a Sergeant Martin Blade, died in the mine tunnel—this thick fog copied the recently deceased sergeant and his memories!"

"Perhaps that's the truth."

Agatha nodded slightly, then turned to the mine tunnel illuminated by the dim light.

No one knew the situation deep in the mining level, but Magistrate Winston obviously possessed some truths that others didn't know—now, at the critical moment when the whole city was falling into anomalies, he had taken a team of soldiers deep into this mine, and without a doubt, the biggest clue might be in this direction.

"Thank you for pointing the way."

Agatha turned her head, solemnly nodded to the pile of dried mud that no longer resembled a human, and then waved to her surrounding subordinates: "Follow me—we're going to look for the Magistrate!"

At the same time, on the boundless ocean covered by a chaotic, dim sky, the ghostly ship with twin shadows was skimming across the waves like the wind, sailing through countless illusory ship shadows.

Lawrence stood at the bow of the White Oak, looking down at the undulating sea below.

Between the layers of undulating waves, he could already see the reflection of the city-state in the distance.