Chapter 578 - 568: Sound Source Pollution 20

Seeing this, Moira Lynch suddenly called out to Hugh Finch, who was standing nearby.

"Hugh, come take a look! Whoever was here before must’ve been obsessed with their looks. Can you believe they bought makeup at a time like this?"

Hugh Finch knew Moira Lynch wouldn’t say something like that for no reason, so he walked over to investigate.

He then saw a row of exquisitely packaged but very familiar-looking lipsticks, a box of press-on nails, nail polish, and various other cosmetics and jewelry inside the burlap sack.

What a coincidence—all of these items had been on their previous redemption list.

The primary purpose of these items was self-defense. It seemed the woman named Luna Morgan had also realized the days ahead would likely be dangerous.

So she had acquired these items through some unknown channel.

Moira Lynch also found a vest inside the burlap sack, one covered in many small pockets.

Judging by the size of the pockets, they were probably meant to hold all those items.

If you wore the vest and put on a slightly loose jacket over it, it wouldn’t look out of place at all.

Moreover, Moira Lynch stood up and moved around a bit, confirming that it didn’t restrict her movement either.

The whole setup was designed to be quite convenient.

"You don’t have much use for these things anyway, so I’m taking them all."

With that, Moira Lynch unceremoniously claimed the items as her own.

Knowing she was deliberately putting on a show for whoever was on the other end of the listening device, Hugh Finch gave a dismissive wave.

"By the way, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you use makeup. You barely even use skincare."

The only exception was back when Caelus first started to cool down. Moira Lynch had worn makeup to cover up the side effects of eating a Snow Chestnut, but even then, it was only light makeup.

If Moira Lynch knew Hugh Finch was calling her previous look "light makeup," she would have rolled her eyes and told him it wasn’t light makeup, it was a "no-makeup makeup" look.

Hearing Hugh’s question, Moira Lynch picked up a nearby mirror. She admired her reflection, stroking her cheek with one hand, and said with extreme narcissism, "I’m a natural beauty. I don’t need any of that external help."

Hugh Finch was speechless. ’...Alright then. That’s a powerful argument.’

It was true; Moira Lynch’s face really didn’t need much adornment.

Meanwhile, on the other end of the listening device, the monitors had heard everything.

"From their conversation, it seems they don’t know the true purpose of those items. Did we suspect the wrong people?"

"Some things can be faked. How can you be sure that entire conversation wasn’t an act for our benefit?"

Hearing this, the others exchanged glances. They all saw the same thought reflected in each other’s eyes: ’Did this pair somehow offend the boss?’

Why else would he be targeting them so relentlessly?

After all, in their eyes, Moira Lynch and Hugh Finch weren’t major suspects, and their files were clean.

The other suspects were far more suspicious, so they couldn’t understand why the man was so fixated on these two.

The man sensed his subordinates’ doubt, but he offered no explanation.

In truth, he was deeply conflicted himself.

His intuition told him that Hugh Finch was the one he was looking for, but his reason told him that Hugh wasn’t a strong suspect.

The two thoughts battled in his mind.

To trust his intuition or his reason—that was the question.

Finally, after a long internal struggle, the man set a deadline for himself. If the pair hadn’t shown any cracks by the time it passed, he would let go of his suspicions.

’Yes, that’s what I’ll do!’

Just then, a subordinate burst in, flustered. "Sir, it’s an emergency! A massive brawl has broken out at the Azure Vista Complex, just a few hundred meters from here. We just got the call requesting our support."

"Support?" The man frowned. "We’re in the middle of a mission. We don’t have time for such trivial matters. Tell them we’re busy."

"I’m afraid that’s not an option, sir." The subordinate looked troubled. "It’s a massive brawl. We’ve heard... someone’s already been killed."

Back in the hotel room, Moira Lynch had also learned of the brawl at the Azure Vista Complex.

Although extending her spiritual power subjected her to a cacophony of piercing noise, she still did it from time to time to get a sense of the situation in Portmire.

The larger the area her spiritual power covered, the more intense the noise became.

When she tried to cover the entirety of Portmire, it felt like a rock band was blasting a concert through a megaphone right next to her eardrum. Her head was just buzzing.

Every time she finished a scan, it took a long while for Moira Lynch to recover, leaving her feeling dazed and disoriented.

Moira Lynch rubbed her ears, threw herself onto the sofa, and said, staring blankly, "When is this ever going to end?"

"What’s wrong? What happened?" Hugh Finch asked.

"My ’noise sickness’ seems to have gotten worse. I think I just heard a huge group of people fighting."

Hugh Finch instantly filtered the useful information from Moira Lynch’s words.

’Her ’noise sickness’ is worse, meaning the sounds in the air are louder. A group of people are fighting—a mass brawl.’

At a signal from Hugh Finch, the Communication Corridor opened.

"I feel like something’s not right."

"What’s not right?"

Moira Lynch still hadn’t fully recovered; she was still in a daze.

"This game’s trial is related to sound."

"Right, it’s related to sound. We already figured that out, didn’t we? What’s the problem?" Moira said.

"That’s the biggest problem. The locals here are all suffering from ’noise sickness,’ which makes them irritable and aggressive. But we don’t get sick from it, so it’s ineffective on us."

Hearing Hugh Finch say this, Moira Lynch shot up from the sofa.

’Right, the ’noise sickness’ is useless against them. So what danger are they supposed to be facing?’

"No, that’s not right. The noise might not affect you, but it affects me. I can hear all those sounds, and in a way, what I hear is even more distinct than what the locals hear."

"Do you think... this could be something the Cosmic Consciousness designed specifically for me?"

Moira felt like she was being singled out. A strange, indescribable feeling welled up inside her—a mix of elation and despair.

She was elated because the one targeting her was the Cosmic Consciousness itself—who else could claim such an honor? But she was despairing because if this really was the case, wasn’t she completely screwed?

"But you have a way to deal with it, don’t you? As long as you don’t release your spiritual power, you won’t have any problems."

Ignoring Moira, who was lost in her own world, Hugh Finch continued with his analysis.