Hughes’ pupils shrank instantly.
This… how could his shell start moving on its own?
Had the shell come back to life and developed its own consciousness?
Or had the Church done something to it, causing it to mutate?
No, that wasn’t important. He needed to try and make contact first to determine whether it was hostile.
Hughes took a deep breath.
He greeted Worker Hughes with an unchanged expression.
Worker Hughes did not respond at all. He just stared blankly at his surroundings, occasionally making slight movements.
"When did you wake up?"
"Candlelight Church?"
Hughes tested for a long time and finally realized that this shell seemed to have gained some characteristics of life, but it didn’t seem to possess intelligence.
No, even calling it the characteristics of life might be inaccurate, it could simply move.
Hughes had tried suddenly shouting at full volume, attempting to startle it, but it showed no reaction whatsoever.
Any normal living being would have some instinctive response, and that was difficult to fake.
In short, Hughes found it baffling. This shell had changed from an unmoving puppet to a moving puppet, nothing more.
After pondering for a long time, he couldn’t make sense of it.
The shell did not respond to anything Hughes said, whether it was conversation or commands.
Yet, Hughes himself was still confined to the Golden Throne and had no way to deal with this self-moving shell.
Wait, was he really helpless?
He could try descending into this shell.
Previously, he had deliberately avoided making eye contact with it, afraid of accidentally descending into it.
At first, he was worried there might be a trap, but on second thought, this was his palace, his most crucial secret.
How could he allow a hidden danger to remain here?
No matter what it was, he had to investigate!
Hughes had never encountered a threat that could bypass his shell and attack him directly.
"Let’s see what you really are."
Hughes stared at Worker Hughes, who continued to move randomly. After a long time, it finally turned its head toward him by chance.
Worker Hughes’ movements suddenly stopped.
Then, its body trembled slightly, as if struggling to break free, but it was inexplicably suppressed by an overwhelming force, forcing it down onto the chair.
Soon, it trembled and forced out a smile, a sign that a descent was taking place.
Hughes’ vision blacked out.
But this time, the darkness never lifted.
"Did it work? Did I really descend?!"
Hughes was bewildered.
He had never tried descending into a dead shell before, this was a first.
After all, he could create new shells at will, so he had never paid much attention to old ones. If they died, he simply replaced them.
Thus, he had never considered reusing a discarded shell.
"It worked, but… where am I?"
Everything was pitch-black. He couldn’t see anything. He tried to move but immediately bumped into something.
"Wait, I remember Worker Hughes was buried in the cemetery. Am I inside a coffin now?"
Hughes’ eye twitched. That… seemed quite likely.
"Forget it, I’ll return, hmm?"
He had just heard something.
No, not just heard it, Hughes felt like there was something else inside his body.
Damn it, could it be that consciousness from the palace that had been controlling Worker Hughes?!
A chill ran down his spine.
Hughes quickly focused his attention inward, searching for abnormalities within his body. Then, to his surprise, he discovered—
"Why is this shell filled with pollution?"
Hughes instantly thought of the strange pollution that had inexplicably appeared in his body when the Type-II Machine was first activated.
The pollution in this shell was similarly spread evenly throughout its limbs and body, but it was much denser and more stable.
This pollution didn’t act like newly formed pollution, which he could purify the moment it appeared. However, Hughes had the feeling that, if he wanted to, purifying this pollution wouldn’t be difficult.
"Strange, this is getting more and more mysterious. Why does my shell always seem to generate pollution?"
"Forget it, I’ll purify it first and deal with the rest later."
Hughes willed it, and the pollution within his body began to be purified under his command.
If newly formed pollution was like snow melting under a flamethrower, then this pollution was as tough as hardened steel.
Unfortunately for it, Hughes’ will was like an unquenchable furnace, melting away the stubborn pollution.
"Hmm? What’s that sound?"
For some reason, Hughes vaguely heard something, like a dying wail, or perhaps mindless whispering.
It was faint, as though it truly existed, yet when he focused his attention on it, it disappeared completely.
Hughes listened for a while, but since the sounds posed no immediate threat, he ignored them and focused on purifying the pollution inside the shell.
Finally, as the last trace of pollution was purified, Hughes faintly heard a wail, then, silence.
He moved around a bit but still couldn’t leave. He decided to return and check on things.
There wasn’t much else to do here anyway.
Darkness shrouded everything like mist.
On the Golden Throne, Hughes opened his eyes once more.
He quickly scanned his surroundings. Finding nothing unusual, he turned his gaze toward Worker Hughes.
Worker Hughes, like a completely mindless puppet, was staring blankly at the table.
Now, it was no different from his other shells.
"Has it returned to normal? Just like that?"
Hughes rubbed his chin.
"Was I overthinking? Could it be that this shell simply accumulated too much pollution, causing a mutation?"
"Thinking about it, that does make sense."
Hughes recalled the entity pollution, which also displayed some characteristics of life but had extremely low intelligence, barely reacting to external stimuli.
It only wriggled when purified or burned.
"If I had thrown the unpurified Worker Hughes into a fire, wouldn’t it have burned for a long time?"
"What a waste! I shouldn’t have purified it so quickly!"
Hughes felt a pang of regret.
Ordinary entity pollution could be used as fuel, so a shell with pollution as dense as steel would have been like a miniature nuclear reactor.
Of course, this thought only flashed through his mind. The development and utilization of pollution were still far from reality—ensuring his own safety was the higher priority.
Throne Hughes looked into Worker Hughes’ eyes, and Worker Hughes slowly turned to meet his gaze. Its body became more animated.
It was completely indistinguishable from a normal shell.
Was it really that simple?