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Regardless of the root cause, it was evident that Duncan had to find a method to augment his bond with the spark and fortify his connection with both the White Oak and Agatha.

As they continued their conversation, Vanna suddenly adopted a thoughtful expression, posing a question, “You’re absolutely certain that you saw the gatekeeper’s reflection in the glass?”

Duncan affirmed, “Without a doubt.”

This perplexed Vanna, prompting her to furrow her brows. “That’s bizarre… If she is indeed confined within that mirror dimension, wouldn’t there have been some sort of reaction from the city-state by now? Even if the news of the supreme protector’s unexplained disappearance were concealed to prevent panic, the Death Church and City Hall would have undertaken some countermeasures…”

She paused momentarily before offering a theory derived from her own experiences, “Secretive investigations, imposition of martial law in specific areas, or alterations to the routine and distribution of the guardian’s nocturnal patrols. Even with a news blackout, these shifts are noticeable to an external observer. However, Mr. Morris and I were extensively active within the city-state today and observed no such changes.”

Upon hearing this, Nina, who had been engrossed in a book, lifted her gaze and offered her own hypothesis, “Perhaps the gatekeeper’s disappearance was recent, and the city-state simply hasn’t had time to respond?”

Vanna shook her head solemnly at this possibility, “If that were true, it would indicate Frost is utterly beyond help. However, based on my observations recently, despite its decline, the city-state seems to be managing fairly well in other aspects. The Death Church and City Hall appear to function smoothly.”

“Maybe we’ll see the city-state’s response tomorrow,” Duncan suggested casually. However, before he could expand further on his idea, a somewhat substantial pressure on his arm halted his speech.

It appeared that Shirley had dozed off, her head having found a resting place on his arm, her snoring stable and rhythmic.

But before Duncan could react to the situation, he noticed Shirley abruptly rousing from her slumber. Even Dog, who had been peacefully napping at the foot of the sofa, was propelled into the air due to the force of her sudden movement. “Ri…right… no… no…”

Shirley’s attempted apology, “I’m sorry”, didn’t manage to leave her lips fully. Concurrently, a loud thud echoed through the room as Dog, who had been unexpectedly flung upwards, fell back to the floor. Then Dog rolled over, his head spinning from the abrupt upheaval, “What’s happening? Are we under attack?”

It was then that he registered the peculiar atmosphere surrounding them. Looking up, Dog noticed a number of strange glances being directed at himself and Shirley.

“We’re not under attack, Shirley just dozed off,” Duncan clarified, a mixture of amusement and exasperation in his voice. He turned his attention to Shirley, who still seemed on edge, “Relax, you should head upstairs and get some proper sleep. It’s important for youngsters to get adequate rest. Nina, you should also stop reading and head to bed.”

“Alright!” Only upon hearing this did Nina begrudgingly mark her place in the book she was halfway through, got up, and clasped the still-rigid Shirley’s hand. Hand in hand, the pair retreated to the upper floor.

As he watched the two girls ascend the staircase and disappear from sight, Duncan shifted his focus to Vanna, giving her a nod, “Tomorrow, you and Morris should head to the higher city district. Observe if there are any changes in the ambiance around the cathedral, and if possible, uncover City Hall’s reaction. I’m curious why they are maintaining such a low profile despite the situation having escalated to this point.”

“Understood,” Vanna responded, a nod of her own confirming her agreement. Then, her curiosity piqued, she asked, “What about you? What are your plans?”

“I’m considering revisiting the Second Waterway with Alice,” Duncan casually revealed, “We’re planning to inspect the passageway where Crow encountered trouble. Given our current theory that a ‘Mirror Frost’ exists and the possibility that the young lad mistakenly ventured there, we might be able to unearth some new evidence from that corridor.”

After uttering this, he suddenly realized, “Speaking of which, is Alice still busy in the kitchen?”

“It appears so,” Morris confirmed, standing up and pivoting, “She’s been in there for quite a while… I hope she hasn’t managed to get her head stuck somewhere and can’t disentangle herself.”

“She really knows how to create a predicament… I’ll go check on her.” Duncan sighed, a note of resignation in his voice as he rose from the sofa to make his way towards the kitchen.

As he entered the kitchen, his eyes fell on the gothic doll standing next to the sink — she hadn’t entangled herself as Morris had speculated but was staring, at a rather odd angle, at a corner of the ceiling.

Alice seemed so absorbed in her own world that she didn’t hear Duncan’s approach. She continued to blankly gaze in a direction where nothing appeared to exist. Then, she extended her arm, the one grasping a kitchen knife, and made swatting motions in the air. She then changed direction and continued her air swatting spree as if trying to catch an elusive, invisible fly.

The sight of the gothic doll standing in the middle of the kitchen, slicing through the air with a kitchen knife, her face devoid of any expression, was quite bizarre. Duncan couldn’t help but humorously imagine a scene where a health bar appeared over the doll’s head, accompanied by the typical organ-style soundtrack that plays during tense scenes in movies.

“What are you doing?” He found himself compelled to ask.

Alice jerked in surprise at Duncan’s sudden question. Instinctively, she reached for her head for support but seemed to have forgotten that she was holding a sharp knife. In the following moment, there was a “plop” sound, and she had inadvertently stabbed herself in the forehead.

Though Duncan was used to Alice’s unpredictable and often startling behavior, this sudden development left him taken aback. He quickly moved forward to steady Alice’s wobbling body, only to witness her flailing her arms in panic — she was still holding the kitchen knife, now with her own head skewered on its tip. After a moment of frantic flailing, she seemed to realize the predicament she was in. She quickly clutched her head with her left hand and yanked the kitchen knife out of her forehead with her right hand.

Next, the doll fumbled to set the kitchen knife aside without realizing she had stabbed it into Duncan’s arm before deftly reattaching the head to her neck. After a “pop” sound, everything seemed to return to normal.

“You startled me!” Alice spun her head to look at Duncan, a hint of accusation in her gaze. But soon her attention was diverted to something on Duncan’s arm, “…Captain, this knife looks familiar.”

Duncan, managing to keep his face impassive (or at least as impassive as one can be with a bandage covering their face), grasped the handle of the knife embedded in his arm when Alice stabbed him, casually withdrew it, and tossed it aside: “No surprise there, you just stabbed me with it when you set it down.”

“…I’m sorry!” The doll gasped, rushing forward to inspect his wound, “Are you alright? Do you need it bandaged?”

“There’s no need, I’m practically a corpse already,” Duncan’s mouth twitched in response, but his gaze involuntarily drifted towards Alice’s forehead.

The doll woman had just inflicted a large wound on her forehead, leaving an unsettling mark. However, at that very moment, the wound began healing astonishingly fast, almost visible to the naked eye. The wound didn’t bleed; instead, it revealed a smooth and jade-like interior. Within a few short breaths, the surface was restored to its original flawless state.

Feeling uncomfortable under Duncan’s scrutinizing gaze, Alice instinctively touched her face, “Why are you staring at me…”

“…What are you constructed from?” Duncan questioned, his brows furrowed as he extended his hand to the spot where Alice had wounded herself. The texture was akin to human skin, albeit cold and devoid of life, “You had a gaping hole in your head a moment ago, were you aware?”

Alice paused, her hand instinctively moving to touch her forehead, and responded in a somewhat bewildered tone: “It’s healed.”

“Obviously, I’m aware it’s healed!”

“…I don’t understand,” Alice shook her head, “I’m not certain of what material I’m composed of either… It doesn’t seem to be wood or ceramics…”

Duncan held his tongue for a few seconds, then forced a smile: “I suppose I shouldn’t have expected a comprehensive answer from you. Forget it, what were you up to just now? Why were you fixated on the ceiling?”

“There were lines,” Alice stated candidly, “Some lines just manifested out of nowhere, but now they’ve vanished.”

At that, Duncan’s expression shifted instantly: “Lines?!”

Alice was capable of seeing unique “lines,” and these lines represented “people”!

“Yes,” Alice affirmed with a serious nod, “I was perplexed as well about why the lines would suddenly materialize. There’s no one else present here… But I remembered your instructions about not recklessly meddling with others’ ‘lines,’ so earlier I was trying to swat them away with the knife…”

Duncan barely registered the latter part of Alice’s explanation. Instead, his mind was occupied with the “lines” Alice had mentioned, which had mysteriously appeared and then disappeared.

His gaze rapidly swept the entire kitchen, looking for anything that might serve as a link to the “Mirror Frost.”

The glass on the window, the water pooled in the sink, and even the blade of the kitchen knife could be used to connect with the other side. However, none of them exhibited any signs of abnormality.

Regardless, Duncan trusted Alice; she had no reason to lie.

At some point recently, there had been an overlap between the Mirror Frost and their reality. It might have been a fleeting, almost imperceptible intersection, but it was enough for Alice to discern the “lines” that had “drifted” over from the other side.