Even though Dr. Henry was a man experienced with big scenes, it didn't mean he could remain indifferent upon seeing a mess of tentacles. He retreated in horror by two steps, almost falling onto the ground. But his concern for the furry ones outweighed his fear, forcing him to stand his ground, stretching his hand towards Tibbers and Shiller. "Oh my God! Quick, come here! Hurry! Don't touch those things!"
Tibbers enthusiastically rushed forward, wagging his tail, while Shiller was more restrained. He leapt directly onto the wall sconce, looking down at the pile of remains, smacking his lips, feeling an odd sense of familiarity with the scent.
Suddenly, the telephone in the reception room rang. The Big Dog barked loudly and dashed inside, barking furiously at the phone. Shiller hurried in as well and stood by the phone, arching his body to prevent Henry from answering the call.
Shiller didn't sense any mystical aura, he just felt that it was suspicious to receive a phone call right after those tentacle creatures died. As a behind-the-scenes manipulator for so long, he was quite familiar with the tricks the other party was playing.
The situation was too complex for Henry to react quickly; he cautiously approached the phone, glanced at Shiller's expression, and said: "Is there an issue with this call? But I think it might be from the NDP side…"
Shiller sighed inwardly, thinking the old manager was too open-minded; even knowing this organization posed a significant problem, he still wanted to try contacting them. Shiller approached and rubbed his ear against his hand.
"You want to answer it?" Henry asked, somewhat surprised, "I know you can understand, but you can't speak, right? Do you need me to translate between you and them?"
Shiller shook his head, already forming a guess in his mind, he simply moved over and nudged the telephone receiver. So Henry put on gloves, carefully picked up the receiver with two fingers, and gently placed it on the table.
Shiller stepped forward, let out a meow at the receiver.
"Hello? Nyarlathotep? Which part are you from? Repeat, which part are you from?"
There was originally some sound from the other side, somewhat like the whispers of Elder Gods, which could probably have contaminated humans who listened, but unfortunately, Shiller answered the call, and upon hearing the cat's voice, the other party froze.
However, what stunned him wasn't the fact that a cat answered the call, but that suddenly he could understand cat language. Clearly, the followers of Nya can communicate among themselves, which makes sense considering that many of Nya's avatars are not human—they're cats, dogs, mice; if they couldn't use mysticism to communicate, must they use sign language?
"Who... are you?" The other side seemed somewhat inexperienced. "Are you a believer of my master?"
"Depends on whether your master has concealed his identity or not," Shiller said, "Based on your reaction to the name Nyarlathotep, he likely hasn't declared who he is. Though once you relay the name to him, he'll understand."
The unknown creature answering the call seemed bewildered, as current circumstances exceeded his expectations. But he might just be a worker, not daring to act presumptuously; one could clearly hear the sound of the phone being set down, he possibly went to report to someone.
Soon, a clear voice emerged: "Hello? Who are you? Are you my new avatar?"
"I'm not an avatar, I made a deal with Nyarlathotep, the details are quite complex," Shiller meowed into the phone, "Have you returned home recently?"
"What?" The opposite side was a bit startled.
"Deep in the Stars, the peak of Chaos, the end of the cosmos... where Nyarlathotep's essence dwells. Have you returned to report recently?"
"Uh, not yet, why?" Clearly caught off guard too, the other party seemed unprepared for the anticipated mystical style of meet-and-greet; this cat seemed oblivious to what astonishing things it was uttering.
"It's best not to go back recently," Shiller said, "Your house collapsed, Misisha went crazy, suddenly crashing into the load-bearing wall, all of Yoga's previously built structures crumbled, and you still have thirty-something colleagues trapped under the debris. Things are dire, we barely managed to escape."
"You come from deep within the Stars?"
"Yes, we also made a deal with one of Yog's avatars, obtained the key in his possession, enabling us to flee to the material world. If you go, you likely won't be able to return."
"Alright, alright, thanks for the heads-up," said the opposite side, "I was scheduled to go report next month, now it seems I must postpone. But what about the essence there? He might dock my pay…"
"It's fine; once your thirty-something colleagues are rescued, they need to report one by one, so it'll be a while before it's your turn. Once they're done reporting, the house will probably be repaired, then you can go."
"Good, I got it… Wait, you haven't mentioned who you are. Are you Yog's avatar or follower, or do you come from Dreamland?"
"Neither actually. We've indeed interacted with Yog's clone, but we're not familiar with that group from Dreamland. Who I am isn't important; what matters is, why is your foundation organizing an expedition team to the South Pole?"
"There's something in the South Pole mountains," the other party answered truthfully, "I haven't figured out what's inside yet. The place is dangerous and strongly repels the avatars of Outer Gods. Perhaps some of my previous reckless actions led the ruins to shut me out. I need someone to go inside and take a look for me."
"Just take a look?"
"Of course, if there's anything valuable, it should be brought back. But since I've never been inside, I can't determine the target, and we'll have to rely on the judgments of human scientists."
"Even if you don't know, you should be able to guess; otherwise, you wouldn't be so eager to get in."
"I do have some suspicions, but it's a long story. Since you're from deep within the stars, you should know that in ancient times, Earth had Elder Gods, Old Day Dominators. But besides that, many other entities visited Earth, most fleeting, now disappeared. However, their influence on Earth is far greater than anyone imagines, and I need more information regarding this."
Shiller sighed lightly, saying, "You're probably planning to stir up a dispute between the human scientists at Miskatonic University and these ancient beings, right?"
No one understands Nya better than him. The other party built such a large organization not truly for exploring the unknown, or rather, all of his pursuits for knowledge are merely to cause greater chaos.
"The choice is in the hands of the human race," Nya's avatar remained as cunning, "They can completely avoid any conflict with anything, and I won't actively engage. But if they're blinded by their own greed, they can't blame others."
"I just need you to promise me one thing," Shiller said, "You can't send your own people into the expedition team. I'm referring to contaminated individuals, and it's best not to tamper with the machinery and equipment either."
"I must admit, this university is more intriguing than I imagined." Nya's avatar gradually revealed his true nature, "You actually have the ability to kill the contaminated. This was beyond my expectations. But since that's the case, I naturally don't need to send more people to their deaths. I can agree to your conditions, but you must promise me, you won't interfere with the human expedition's exploration and must do your best to help them reach depths."
"No problem," Shiller said, although he added in his mind, I don't even need to interfere with the exploration. Instead, I can directly influence the selection of the human expedition team members, solving the problem at its root much faster.
Just remove those reckless and inexperienced individuals eager for quick success from the team, and include more of those old, cautious, and prudent scientists, the probability of incidents will be much lower. If they still don't listen to reason, then the Bat Cat and Big Dog aren't just for show.
"Send a few normal people over to settle the details," Shiller said, "Bring the information you've already discovered. Don't play any tricks; I can see through them."
Hanging up the phone, Shiller nodded at Henry, indicating that it was sorted. Henry still found it somewhat hard to accept, as he couldn't understand Shiller's words, having only seen a small cat meowing for a while. After the call ended, it nodded at him.
Henry sighed and eventually called for the cleaners to tidy up the corridor. The cleaners were of course startled, but after a first surprise, work becomes routine; last time Wilbur's corpse was what he cleaned, and now there's little difference. He picked up the broom and got to work.
The NDP Foundation's people acted fast; it didn't take long for them to arrive again. This time, those who came were normal. The Big Dog went up to sniff each one and didn't find any strange scent, so Shiller left with the dog, relieved.
The dog seemed to understand too; Shiller brought it to identify cultists and protect Henry, so its hostility towards him lessened. As long as no one entered its doghouse, they could wander inside freely.
This pleased Shiller; at least he had managed to get along well with the dog, ensuring a smoother future South Pole journey. However, there's still a problem to be solved, which is the journey to the South Pole itself.
Later on, he met with Bat Cat on the rooftop of the main teaching building. Bat Cat said, "That Reck is completely unreliable. Although this era doesn't have very well-developed experimental ethics, basic humanity can't be disregarded. This guy has many illegal dissection practices; he absolutely can't be part of the South Pole trip."
Shiller agreed deeply, saying, "What about that Black professor from before? What do you think of him?"
Bat Cat thought for a moment and said, "His courses are taught decently, his ability isn't as exceptional as Reck's, but his personality is very gentle and treats people much better than Reck does. You know how it is for Blacks in this era."
Shiller indeed understood. In this era, America's racial discrimination was still quite severe, with racialism prevailing, making Blacks generally second-class citizens. Those Blacks who made it far often weren't troublemakers; most were docile and obedient.
In Hollywood blockbusters, there's often a scene of Black sacrifice—this period had most Blacks enduring hardship, charging forward, holding the line, doing whatever their officers demanded. Typically, their superiors would push them into danger to die, hence these recurring scenes.
And, although Bat Cat mentioned his lectures were decent, in this era, for a Black professor to become one, and have a good relationship with students, they must have skills in academia but can't show off too much, or they might be targeted by racialists, meaning their academic level might be higher than it seems.
"I'll find a way to make Reck lose out," Shiller said, "You just mentioned he has illegal dissection practices; can you show me?"