Soul Realm：Fate Change

Chapter 7 - The House of Memories

The interior of the house was decorated in an American country style, with wooden floors that creaked underfoot, clearly in need of maintenance. The living room appeared spacious and tidy, but the clutter in the corners revealed the owner's lack of interest in cleaning.

At the far end of the living room, where a fireplace might have been, there was a small altar. On it stood a tall statue, covered with a cloth, revealing only the hem of its robe. It looked familiar, and I couldn’t help but stare at it for a while.

Scattered around the statue were wood shavings and tools, suggesting that the wooden statue was still a work in progress.

Yuka had yet to appear, and the living room was packed with people, chattering about the wonders of the Guardian. Occasionally, someone would mention Yumoya’s miraculous recovery from critical illness, eliciting gasps from the crowd.

Celeste pushed me through the crowd with difficulty. The air was filled with a strange medicinal smell mixed with a faint metallic scent, making it hard to breathe.

"This is the staircase to the second floor," Celeste said as we found ourselves away from the crowd, standing at the narrow, steep staircase. I peered up; the second floor was dimly lit, and a maroon carpet stretched from the darkness down to our feet.

The carpet was stained with large, dark patches, the closest of which looked fresh.

"That looks like blood," I squinted to get a better look.

Celeste’s expression turned serious. He parked me in a semi-enclosed corner, instructing me to stay put while he went upstairs to find Yumoya and assess the situation.

"Wait!" I grabbed his sleeve. "How can you leave me behind and go find Yumoya alone? That’s my soul we’re talking about. Shouldn’t I be there to verify it?"

"Besides, if my soul really is in him, how are you planning to bring it back to me?"

"Why don’t you take me with you? In novels and TV shows, souls always recognize their owners. Maybe if I stand next to Yumoya, my soul will just fly out and return to me!"

Celeste glanced at my legs, then at our surroundings. "You’ll just get in the way. It’s easier for me to go upstairs unnoticed alone."

I sprang to my feet, demonstrating my flexibility with a high kick and a classic kung fu pose. "I told you, I’m perfectly mobile now."

A hint of impatience flashed across Celeste’s face, but before he could respond, a group of people suddenly surrounded us, clapping enthusiastically.

A plump woman with curly brown hair eagerly grabbed my hand. "Everyone, look! This is the power of the Church of Bliss, the blessing of the Guardian!"

She turned to me, her eyes shining. "Tell us, how did you receive the Guardian’s blessing?"

I looked at Celeste, then back at the woman, pointing at myself in confusion. "Me?"

"Yes, you! We all saw you come in in a wheelchair, and now you’re doing kung fu!" A familiar voice came from behind the woman, and a man who looked like a golden snub-nosed monkey squeezed through the crowd, whispering to me, "Do you have a way to get close to Pastor Yuka? Can you introduce me?"

His whisper triggered a memory. "You’re that... Explorer!"

"I’m also the Courage!" The man struggled to free his hand and shook mine. "I’m glad you have your own thoughts on exploration. Maybe we can visit some ruins together. But for now, can you tell me how to contact Mr. Yuka?"

Wait a minute... I held his cold fingertips, suddenly remembering the video Celeste and I had watched that morning. The man in the video had screamed in terror before disappearing from the frame.

How could he be standing here now, smiling and chatting?

"Be careful, his soul is incomplete," Celeste’s voice suddenly echoed in my mind. I turned to him in surprise, realizing he hadn’t spoken aloud.

"It’s telepathy. Look at your other hand’s pinky finger." I looked down and saw a small vine wrapped around my pinky. The vine’s leaves swayed as if greeting me.

"Is this how we’re talking?" I tried speaking in my mind.

I could almost hear Celeste’s soft laugh. "Very clever."

"The person in front of you barely has a complete soul," he paused. "But now that everyone’s attention is on you, I can go upstairs."

"Keep them distracted."

So, he still wants to act alone! I grumbled internally, my gaze turning resentful as I looked at the crowd. But then I noticed their eyes were lifeless, and I shivered, remembering Celeste’s words.

It seemed I had no choice but to follow Celeste’s plan. After all, it was the best option given the circumstances.

But my only experience was handing out flyers for Ning Qianqian’s café. How was I supposed to keep so many people engaged? Still, I had no choice but to try.

I forced a smile and enthusiastically shook the monkey-like man’s hand. "To contact Mr. Yuka, all you need is sincerity."

"Sincerity? Just sincerity?" the man muttered.

The curly-haired woman, however, wasn’t about to let him dominate the conversation. She pushed her way forward. "Miss, you’ve truly received the Guardian’s blessing, haven’t you?"

"Yes, yes!" I replied loudly, glancing at Celeste as he slipped away up the stairs.

"Keep going, don’t stop," his voice echoed in my mind.

I cleared my throat. "I faithfully believe in the Guardian. The Guardian chose me as a Divine Chosen, healed my soul, guided my spirit, and reignited my hope for life. And... and it cured my legs."

The first part came easily, as it was what Celeste had done for me. But the last part made me stumble, as I couldn’t imagine how the Guardian could perform such a medical miracle.

Once you’ve seen the real thing, it’s hard to accept a counterfeit, and my imagination was limited.

The curly-haired woman, however, was pleased with my answer. She nodded enthusiastically and shared her thoughts with the crowd. "See? I told you the Guardian is all-powerful! Pastor Yuka helped me communicate with the Guardian, and after that, my child’s terminal illness was cured!"

Her story sounded eerily similar to Yumoya’s, and I couldn’t help but pay closer attention. Upon closer inspection, I noticed her clothes were worn and shabby. Her fast-fashion top was loose and faded, and her jeans were frayed at the knees.

"I’ve found Yumoya’s room," Celeste’s voice echoed in my mind. "Keep them distracted. It won’t take long."

"I gave up everything for my child’s illness," the curly-haired woman declared, drawing my attention back to her. "My marriage, my job, my life! I had nothing left until I met Pastor Yuka."

"At first, I was like you—I didn’t believe it," she stared at me, as if seeing through my facade. "But Pastor Yuka was generous. He helped me without asking for anything in return. He made my child’s condition improve, gave me a new job, and showed me the light of a new day!"

"So when my child’s condition worsened again, I didn’t hesitate to follow Pastor Yuka’s advice and made a contract with the Guardian."

A contract? My mind was filled with questions. I didn’t remember signing any contract with Celeste, nor had Edwine mentioned anything about it. But since I wasn’t a legitimate Divine Chosen, I couldn’t be sure if "signing a contract" was part of the normal process.

The curly-haired woman was on fire now. She pulled out Yuka’s business card, and the crowd followed suit, waving their own cards with a fervor I couldn’t comprehend. "Pastor Yuka saved me from despair! He gave me a second life!"

The crowd chanted in unison: "Pastor Yuka saved me from despair! He gave me a second life!"

"I am willing to offer my soul for this!"

"I am willing to offer my soul for this!"

She turned to me, and the crowd followed, their bloodshot eyes fixed on me, their lifeless pupils like abysses threatening to swallow my soul.

"Miss, why won’t you make the vow?"

"Miss, why won’t you make the vow?"

"Miss, why won’t you make the vow?"

With each question, they stepped closer, and thick black mist rose from the business cards they held, forming interlocking chains in the air. My mind screamed warnings, and I desperately called out to Celeste, but there was no response.

The vine around my pinky finger was withered, lifeless.

Stay calm, Raina. I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms, using the pain to keep myself steady. The semi-enclosed corner I had chosen for safety had become a trap. I needed to find a way out, to get to the second floor, to find Celeste.

I steeled myself, ready to make a move, when Celeste’s voice suddenly echoed in my mind again.

"Don’t come up!" He seemed to be in pain, his voice strained. After a muffled groan, he repeated, "Get out of here. Don’t come up."

"But—" My resolve wavered as the fanatical crowd closed in. The curly-haired woman’s breath was on my face now, and she raised her arm. The black mist lashed out like tentacles, aiming to bind my mouth.

"Can’t speak, miss? Let me help you!"

I instinctively raised my arm to block, but as the black mist touched my wrist, the Chu Flower Bracelet I wore burst into a blinding white light.

The light cut through the black mist like a blade, and the mist recoiled, slamming into the curly-haired woman and knocking her into the crowd, creating an opening.

"Sorry, sorry! I didn’t mean to step on you!"

The bracelet’s last petal fell, but I had no time to worry about it. I seized the moment, stepping over the woman to escape the crowd. The fanatics turned toward me in unison, like puppets controlled by strings.

I backed away slowly, my spine pressing against the wooden staircase railing. The stairs to the second floor disappeared into darkness, and the path to the front door was blocked. I had no choice.

Well, at least I wasn’t completely out of luck. They’d left me one way out.

I steadied myself and stepped onto the maroon carpet.

---

Once I reached the second floor, the noise from downstairs seemed to vanish, leaving an eerie silence.

The staircase led to a long, dark hallway that seemed to stretch endlessly. Every few steps, there was a closed door, with no light seeping through.

"It’s so cold." My fingers were stiff, and the feeling of my lifeforce draining away returned. The energy I’d spent downstairs had taken its toll, and I knew my time was running out.

By now, my connection with Celeste had completely severed. No matter how much I called out to him in my mind, there was no response.

"Celeste?" I called out softly, and a rustling sound came from one of the rooms. "Celeste, are you in there?" I knocked on the door, and the sound grew louder, as if confirming his presence.

"Celeste! Celeste! The door must be locked, right? It can’t be as simple as just turning the handle—" I was getting anxious, fumbling with the doorknob, but to my surprise, the door opened easily.

A gust of wind rushed out, carrying with it a flood of newspapers. In the dim moonlight from the window, I was shocked to see the room filled to the brim with newspapers.

Amid the deafening rustle of paper, a disheveled man crawled across the floor, muttering to himself. He didn’t notice me, too absorbed in his own world.

"Work... work... I can’t lose my job. I can’t be without money."

What was going on? I stood frozen, afraid that any movement would draw his attention. There was no sign of Celeste in the room. Had I been wrong?

I tried to quietly leave, but as soon as I moved, a sharp ringing sound erupted beside me. The man shuddered and scrambled toward me, and I finally saw his face—it was Yuka!

"Yuka" fumbled through the newspapers for his phone, pleading with the person on the other end. "I’ve had some urgent matters these past few days. Can you extend the deadline? I’ll pay the rent, I promise! Please don’t take the house away!"

The call seemed to end abruptly, and "Yuka" stared at his phone in silence before suddenly snapping back to reality. He grabbed a newspaper and began circling job listings. "I need a job. I can’t be without work. I can’t be without work..."

He still didn’t notice me, as if I were invisible in this room.

My clothes were soaked with sweat, and my mind raced. Clearly, this "Yuka" wasn’t the same person we’d met earlier, and this didn’t seem like a normal second floor.

What was this place?

I reached out to touch the newspapers, hoping to find some answers, but my fingers passed right through them.

They weren’t real?

I tried again, even daring to place my hand on the man’s head. Nothing was solid in this room except the walls.

This was an illusion.

Once I accepted that, it made sense why "Yuka" had ignored me. He wasn’t real—just a memory playing out in this room. And I was an intruder in that memory.

I stepped out of the room, and the hallway still stretched endlessly. The doors on either side emitted the same rustling sounds.

Could each door lead to a different memory of Yuka?

And where was Celeste trapped?

I opened the second door.