84. Channels and Learning

Dean, satisfied after exiting the system, suddenly felt an intense itch across his face.

He opened his eyes to find himself staring at a red brick wall outside the car window. Somehow, the vehicle had stopped in a narrow, secluded alley.

Gretchen, sitting in the driver’s seat, turned her body slightly, squinting her pale blue eyes mischievously as she playfully flicked her long braid against his face.

“Wait, this isn’t Abby’s house.”

“Sleeping beauty with dark circles, finally decided to wake up?” Gretchen lowered her gaze, swung her long legs over to straddle the passenger seat, and gave him a brazen look—sharp and fierce, like an Amazon warrior ready to strike. She placed her hand atop Dean’s head and gestured teasingly, changing the subject. “Have you grown taller recently?”

“Is that so strange?”

Dean gently pushed her hand aside. Since defeating the Devourer and gaining skill upgrades, he had earned two points in constitution. After a few days of adjustment, his height had increased by two centimeters, reaching 1.78 meters.

His muscles were firmer, his energy boundless. He could train in combat all day without feeling fatigued.

“Hmm, remember how I promised you before?”

“To save Abby and fulfill any wish I have?” Dean tilted his head back slightly, deliberately avoiding her moist lips and the slender, athletic allure she exuded.

Even her plain tight sportswear carried a natural beauty.

A fire seemed to ignite within Dean’s body, a thrilling current coursing through him. Suddenly, he felt uncontrollably exhilarated.

Yes, this was a lingering effect left by the Devourer!

“Now, here’s your chance to say your wish. Miss it, and it’s void.” She placed both hands on Dean’s shoulders, her pale and beautiful face inching closer cautiously, as if afraid to scare away a timid creature. Then, before he could react, she lightly kissed him, like a dragonfly skimming the water.

“What do I want? I want a sparring match!”

Dean met her gaze, his eyes burning with unrestrained fire. He beckoned with his left hand and swiftly adjusted the car seat, slowly reclining it backward.

“Bring it on. This time, I’m going to beat you!”

Gretchen pushed his chest with a playful shove, her slender fingers digging into the flesh of his arm.

...

Under the bright and gentle sunshine of spring.

The car, stationary in the humble alley, suddenly surged onto the highway, bouncing wildly at high speed.

A stray dog sleeping in the corner of the alley was startled awake by the commotion. Wagging its tail, it ran over and howled at the car, “Awoo! Awoo!”

...

A wonderful late morning.

By noon, the bright sunshine had grown somewhat dazzling.

Dean and Gretchen arrived at Abby’s home.

The courtyard, entwined with green vines and blooming flowers, was filled with people. Besides those from the detention center, a few neighbors nearby, and Gretchen’s parents had also come to celebrate Abby’s new beginning.

Several grills were set up in the yard, white smoke rising from burning red oak and hickory wood, filling the air with a smoky aroma. People busily flipped meats and brushed on sauces.

Batista and Rajee looked radiant as they greeted guests, their demeanors seeming years younger.

“Why are you two so slow?” Rust whispered to Britney, then put down a paintbrush and approached them, sniffing suspiciously. “Why is your hair wet?”

Gretchen’s fair cheeks flushed slightly. She tucked a lock of black hair behind her ear.

Dean grabbed Rust’s shoulder and led him indoors, wearing a satisfied expression. “Gretchen and I found time to spar a bit. She’s improved a lot, so I gave her some extra pointers.”

...

Meanwhile, Britney, arm linked with Gretchen’s, blinked her big eyes and reached out to touch her forehead.

“Do you have a fever?”

“No.”

“Stubborn. You can barely walk straight, and that cold-blooded robot of Dean’s didn’t go easy on you either. Come on, let’s rest inside and borrow some clothes from Abby.”

“No need. I’m not close with her.” Gretchen lifted her chin slightly, speaking words she didn’t quite believe, her steps steady.

“My memory’s bad. Who was it that begged Dean to save Abby and promised to fulfill all her conditions?” Britney smiled wryly at her close friend. “Stop sulking. What’s done is done. Deep down, you’ve already forgiven Abby.”

“I’m not doing it for her. I can’t bear to see Uncle Batista and Aunt Rajee hurt.” Gretchen bit her lip and shook her head. “I’ve always treated them like family. Yes, that’s it.”

The two entered the living room on the first floor. Coincidentally, Abby was sitting on the plush sofa watching TV. When she turned and met Gretchen’s eyes, the atmosphere suddenly grew awkward. Gretchen turned her face away, a hint of displeasure and complaint tugging at her lips.

Abby stared blankly at her former friend.

After a moment, she took a deep breath, determination flickering in her eyes. She strode over and grabbed Gretchen’s hand.

“The fault was mine. I apologize. But I don’t ask for your forgiveness.”

“Being locked up in the detention center, facing threats and intimidation, police indifference, being treated like a disgusting child killer... only then did I understand the isolation and helpless despair you felt.”

“I abandoned you to that fat pig, left you behind. I don’t deserve to call you my sister...”

Abby bit her lip, eyes reddening.

“If I disgust you, I promise I will never appear before you again!”

...

Gretchen stared at that face full of remorse, silent for a full ten seconds before sighing and raising her bold eyebrows. She tossed her braid over her shoulder and put her hands on her hips.

“Abby, forget how I warned you before. Don’t say such discouraging things—you’re no worse than anyone else!”

“No, if it were someone else, they wouldn’t have run away or abandoned you!”

Gretchen shook her head helplessly.

“You always worry me like this. When will you ever grow up?”

She firmly held Abby’s arm and pulled her toward the sofa.

“You... you forgive me?” Abby glanced at her, tears brimming in her eyes at the familiar expression.

“What, don’t want to reconcile with me?”

“W-well... I swear, if I’m ever a coward again, if I disappoint you again, may my soul be taken by Satan!”

“Remember your promise—no more next times. Now, lend me some clothes to change!”

Britney watched the two sisters side by side and smiled with relief, following them inside.

...

Dean and Rust sat near a clump of aloe vera, munching on tender and juicy beef brisket sandwiches with potato salad.

Rust hesitated. “Are you playing both sides now? Caroline and Gretchen?”

“Caroline?” Dean stopped chewing, momentarily confused. “She’s been chasing her dreams for months, hasn’t come back or contacted me much. I nearly forgot about her.”

“We’re young. No need to be so cautious—just close your eyes and enjoy the moment.”

“That’s a pretty lousy thing to say,” Rust jabbed a greasy finger at Dean’s nose, his expression as if seeing his friend in a new light. “Six months ago you’d blush chatting with a girl. Now you’re a total heartbreaker?”

“Thanks for the compliment. People change. Better to be a scoundrel than a desperate, lovelorn fool.”

“Scoundrel, desperate fool? Spot on, but I strongly disagree! Like Britney and me…”

They debated spiritedly until Lucwell, the lawyer, waddled over, carrying two glasses of champagne.

“Mind if I join?”

Dean nodded, raising his juice. “Sure, but I don’t drink.”

“Good habit. Such discipline at a young age means a bright future.”

The stout man leaned against a flowerbed, glancing at Rust as he discreetly left.

“I know you’re practical, so I won’t waste time with pleasantries. Dean, I’ve looked into your past. In the last six months, your experiences have been richer and more exciting than most people’s in years.”

“First Midlake, then that joint murder case, and finally Abby’s case—you played a decisive role in all three.” Lucwell’s eyes gleamed. “You’re truly a rare talent at solving trouble. It’s a waste for you to volunteer at LVPD. How about working with me?”

Dean looked surprised. “Sorry, I’m not familiar with Nevada law. I can’t help you.”

“A mature lawyer not only provides legal support for employers but also calls on acquaintances for help with tricky problems.”

Dean expressionlessly stuffed a piece of grilled pork shoulder into his mouth.

“So, you mean a private detective?”

“Similar nature of work.”

“But I don’t have a private investigator license. Is taking your cases legal?”

“Forgot what I do? I’ll handle all legal issues for you.” Lucwell smiled confidently. “I’m somewhat known in Las Vegas. Employers who can afford me have decent wealth; the pay is generous. So you won’t lose out. Each case earns from a few thousand to tens of thousands.”

“And it’s a part-time job. You get commissions when there’s work but otherwise have freedom. It won’t interfere with your daily life or final-year studies.”

Dean wiped grease off his hands. “Mr. Lucwell, what’s your standard for accepting cases? Dollars?”

The lawyer sipped champagne. “All lawyers love money, myself included. But beyond that, I consider the challenge, the reputation it brings, and relationships with clients.”

“Like Abby. I’ve known her parents for over ten years and watched her grow up. I treat her like a niece. When I took her case, the facts were clear, and the evidence heavily against her. But I couldn’t refuse.”

Dean nodded; this man had some heart.

Sensing his interest, Lucwell pressed on.

“If you have other concerns, I’ll explain each case’s background thoroughly so you can decide whether to take it.”

“I can’t find a reason to refuse.” Dean smiled and shook his hand. This gave him another source for cases besides LVPD and expanded his network. “But can we delay signing the contract for two months? I want to rest until the end of the year.”

“No problem.” Lucwell clinked his glass with Dean’s juice and handed over a business card. “Looking forward to a pleasant cooperation!”

After pocketing the card, Dean’s mind stirred. “I have a request. During the investigation of Abby’s case, we visited a prisoner named David Lee in San Quentin Prison, California. His experience is almost identical to Abby’s; he was also wrongfully accused.”

“His testimony was crucial in catching the real culprit. Could you try to clear his name? We can pay.”

The lawyer asked for David’s details, then frowned. “I don’t have a California license; clearing him is nearly impossible. I can try to pull some strings. I’ll contact you if there’s progress; otherwise, I’m sorry.”

“Well, if clearing his name isn’t possible, at least help improve his situation.” Dean said earnestly.

Lucwell smiled and turned away without delay, heading back to the crowd.

...

After the barbecue feast, in the afternoon, Dean and friends stayed at Abby’s watching horror movie tapes. Thrilled by the adrenaline rush, they then blasted the radio and danced wildly in the yard to release energy.

At dusk, Dean drove alone to the old district in the south, to Jenny’s home.

Creak—

The door opened, and the elderly hostess’s face lit up with surprise.

“Come in quickly, Dean, you’ve come just in time!”

Tribecca grabbed Dean’s hand at her waist and pulled him toward the kitchen, her aged frame moving with a proud stride.

Dean immediately sensed something was amiss and his expression changed dramatically.

“I... I already ate dinner!”

The old woman smiled, wrinkles of kindness softening her smooth face.

“Young people digest well; it’s fine to eat more. This time there’s no green bean pork rice, but still a traditional delicacy you can’t miss!”

Dean rubbed his belly stuffed full of barbecue, frowning as he sat at the table. Soon, plates of fried black bananas, a sticky black bean smoked bacon soup, and golden crispy fried fish were laid before him.

He sipped the bacon soup, hoping to aid digestion.

“So you defeated that demon?” The old woman placed her hands on her knees, looking at him with the love reserved for a grandchild who’d achieved something remarkable.

“Though the process was tough, the evil has ended. That thing can no longer spread sin.” Dean spoke earnestly. “Your advice helped me tremendously.”

“No need to be humble. You’re the remarkable one. I’ve lived over sixty years, and this is the first time I’ve heard of anyone catching a Devourer.” She wiped a few cloudy tears at her eyes, placed her hand on her chest, and recited a Spanish eulogy Dean couldn’t understand.

“Rest assured, I’ll keep your secret safe—everything will stay in the coffin.” The old woman solemnly promised. Then she asked, “Now tell me, how did the demon differ from the descriptions in the book?”

“Stronger. Besides shape-shifting and stirring human inner demons, it has vigorous vitality and exceptional regenerative abilities. Even aiming at vital points with ordinary firearms struggles to kill it.”

“Its true form differs from the book’s depiction. It’s a medium-sized humanoid creature with dark green scales and folds covering its skin, resembling melted wax.”

“When the Devourer takes another’s form, beheading and destroying the brain still kills it.”

Dean simplified the details of his battle and the supernatural elements but otherwise recounted everything.

Tribecca, seated on the sofa nearby, took out a heavy book and pen, making additions and corrections.

As they talked and recorded, half an hour passed.

Dean unknowingly polished off another half bowl of roasted bananas and three grilled fish.

With his enhanced physique and ironman talent, his appetite soared.

Tribecca put down the pen, smiling with satisfaction at the newly sketched mudman-like image and the lengthy added notes in the book.

Dean asked next, “There must be more than one Devourer, right?”

“Yes, the exact number is unknown, but they seem to prefer solitary lives.”

Dean breathed a sigh of relief, no longer worried about retaliation from its kin. Relaxed, a name Tim had once mentioned popped into his mind.

“Do you know what Purgatory is?”

“Let me think... yes, most Jehovah’s Witness doctrines mention it,” Tribecca adjusted her reading glasses. “It’s a place between Heaven and Hell, also called the Forest of Wanderers. Souls neither punished for sins nor blessed to be with God linger there.”

Dean pondered—Purgatory, the Forest of Wanderers?

Could it be the green forest Alvin saw during his near-death experience?

Tribecca continued, “Personally, I don’t put much faith in so-called good or evil spirits, Heaven or Hell. If they truly exist, they probably represent other dimensions.”

Dean nodded, planning to explore it someday.

“Tribecca, the Devourer case is closed. Can you tell me stories about other legendary creatures? Like Wendigos, werewolves, vampires...”

Some of these creatures have partial reality, leaving traces in history; others are pure human fabrications.

With an expert before him, Dean wanted to learn and inspire himself, so future cases wouldn’t leave him baffled.

“Planning to become a monster hunter?” Tribecca quietly ladled another bowl of soup.

“Maybe, but I’ll only target evil monsters.” Dean smiled. “So, it’s settled? I’ll spend a few nights a week learning from you.”

“You’re always welcome, child.”

Thanks to 42cd for the generous support! Thanks to everyone for your monthly and recommendation votes!

(The End of this chapter)