Chapter 33

Chapter 33

Albert, after escaping through the window, returned to a safe house not far from the apartment.

The safe house was small, just a room with a living area and a bathroom. When Albert entered, someone was already sitting on the sofa in the middle of the room.

The man with long black hair leaned on the sofa, smiling at him. It was a face that seemed harmless, but Albert's nerves tensed instinctively when the man looked at him.

"So close to success, yet it all fell apart," Amos said, his mouth curving, but his eyes devoid of humor, "Tell me, how will you compensate me?"

Albert scoffed, lifting the necklace around his neck, "The relic you gave me was useless. My identity was discovered long ago."

Amos responded, "Strange, the relic's ability to disguise souls is top-notch. The last owner even deceived 'The Eye of Fate' with it, becoming the first cultist to infiltrate the Inspection Bureau in centuries."

He shrugged, "But no help for it, that being is theoretically impossible to exist in reality. Who knows how many tricks he has."

Albert snorted coldly.

"But I didn’t expect the ritual back then would actually succeed," Amos changed the topic, his eyes gleaming, "Thanks to your great help as an undercover agent in the police force, diverting the police's attention and cruelly cutting off the teachers and students' cries for help, who knows how long it would have taken us to succeed otherwise!"

He theatrically touched the corner of his eye, speaking in an intoxicated tone, "That day’s scene still lingers before my eyes! The university campus engulfed in flames, teachers and students desperately resisting, and of course, the despair of the sacrifices."

Albert gazed at Amos’s exaggerated performance, silent as a statue.

Amos smiled, "Although we didn’t fully open the gate to the other world that time, His arrival shows we are close..."

"Now that Laine has been confirmed as the deity who descended then, whether a dark god or an ancient god, there's no doubt he will be the key and sacrifice for us Outsiders to reach our final goal, fulfilling our longstanding wish!"

Amos gently clapped his hands, his lips curled, "Congratulations, the cult leader will surely be pleased!"

Albert’s hands, hanging down, clenched into fists, his nails almost embedding into his flesh. He stared at Amos, who was outwardly performing a show of happiness for him, "You..."

"You think so too, don't you, Cult Leader?" Amos suddenly said.

"Hmm." A soft acknowledgment came from behind Albert.

Albert felt the hair on his back stand up. He turned his head without daring to lift it, slightly bowing, "Cult Leader."

A pale hand rested on Albert's shoulder, the palm pressing firmly to straighten his shoulder, "Lift your head, my dear Albert."

Albert raised his eyes, his gaze landing on the Cult Leader's face.

The Cult Leader had silver-white hair, typical of the elderly, and his face had spots like age spots. Strangely, his features and skin appeared youthful, no more than in his twenties, giving him an eerie mix of aged and youthful appearance.

His pitch-black eyes lacked any gleam, and staring into them felt like gazing into the depths of an abyss.

Albert's eyes itched, and he involuntarily averted his gaze.

"Albert," the leader of the Outsiders, Soren Hog, spoke, "You did well."

Albert bowed deeply, "No, I failed to capture Laine, I am terribly sorry."

"From the moment his identity was confirmed, he was no longer an opponent you could handle," Soren said, curling his lips slightly, "Just confirming his identity and his current status is impressive. It makes our plan more certain."

"You did well."

Albert forced a smile, "Thank you for your compliment."

"Well, your identity is likely compromised as expected. You've endured much in your years as an undercover agent. From now on, stay by my side, awaiting the final moment."

A flash of excitement appeared in Albert's expression: "Yes!"

"About Laine's matter..."

"He is no longer a target you can deal with. He is our most crucial 'coordinate,' 'door,' and 'key,' the most important part. I never rely on him for anything."

"Understood."

"So, everyone," the white-haired man tilted his head with a smile, "let's wait for the final moment to arrive."

……

Regarding the fact that Albert was actually a double agent, Laine admitted there was a gamble involved, but clearly, he had bet correctly.

First of all, based on the information at hand, Archie's father was more likely an investigator for the Inspection Bureau. No, considering the term 'Gap of Dreams' from the notebook and the marks on the bookshelf, it was almost certain.

This made Albert's behavior seem peculiar.

Laine, from his previous life, didn't know much about Albert but was aware that he was Archie's unrequited love, the 'little sun' in the hearts of countless players. Indeed, until yesterday, Albert behaved as rumors described – seemingly guileless, his smile radiant, as if bringing sunshine into one's heart.

But from Albert's recent actions, he definitely seemed like a cultist, a stark contrast to Laine's previous impression of him.

This was strange. After all, if Albert's true nature was so sinister, why would Archie be so fixated on him?

And Archie wasn't foolish. If Albert was truly evil, how could he have concealed it from Archie for over a decade?

Add to that the likelihood of Archie's father being an undercover agent sent by the Inspection Bureau into the Outsiders, a credible hypothesis naturally emerges.

That is, Albert was also an undercover agent, with a more complex identity: a police officer by day and a cultist in secret, possibly even an investigator.

This could explain why Albert, as a member of the Outsiders, died in their final conspiracy, why Archie never realized Albert's true nature for over a decade, why Archie still pined for Albert after his death in the previous life, and why Albert, upon discovering the identity of Archie's father, kept it a secret from the Outsiders and investigated on his own.

Realizing this, Laine understood that he could use this to his advantage.

He wasn’t sure if it was luck or misfortune, but his mistaken identity as a dark deity had saved him many times, albeit causing numerous troubles.

For instance, just being 'suspected as a dark deity' alone earned him a natural -50 reputation in the eyes of all investigators with a sense of justice.

Albert had ample reasons to target Laine, whether working for the Inspection Bureau or the Outsiders.

Laine understood this but that didn't mean he was willing to be sealed away without a fight.

Therefore, the phrase he used, only circulated within the Inspection Bureau, was a warning to Albert.

'I know all your secrets. If you don’t want your double agent status exposed, leave quietly.'

The result was Albert abandoning his mission and voluntarily retreating.

As for Amos, he was always quick to flee, probably having escaped as soon as he sensed the failure.

Back to the present, upon hearing this information, Archie’s eyes widened in disbelief, "Albert is a double agent?"

Not just him, the live stream's chat also exploded.

[What, what? What did I miss?]

[Albert... the sunny, handsome guy, right? He suddenly turned against Laine and scared me, and now he’s switched sides again?]

[It's not about switching sides. According to what Laine just said, Albert is actually with the Inspection Bureau, still our enemy.]

[...Have you guys already accepted that you’re on the side of the dark deity?]

[What? After all this time, are there still people who don’t know who the chosen one of this version is?]

[It's Laine! It's Laine! Our beloved! I swear to follow my beloved to the end!]

[I can't accept a dark deity as our faction leader, waaah! I'm loyal to the hard-core investigator faction!]

Seeing the chat veering off into a factional argument again, Alon reluctantly refocused on the storyline, feigning sudden realization, "So, Albert ran away because he was afraid you'd expose his identity?"

"But how did you know he’s actually with the Inspection Bureau?"

"I'm guessing... just kidding, Lan couldn't possibly say that."

"By now, he's skilled enough to feign confidence. With a slight smile, he walks over to the bookcase, casually dropping another bombshell: 'Because I know, Archie's father isn't really a member of the cult. He's actually an undercover agent sent by the Bureau of Investigation to probe foreigners.'"

"At these words, Archie's eyes widen further, his expression a mix of confusion and bewilderment."

"His already narrow eyes now resemble those of a cat. Lan feels an urge to stroke them, but it's not the time for that - he's still in the middle of his act."

"'The evidence is right here. See the corner of this bookshelf? Notice the scratches? They're a secret code used exclusively within the Bureau of Investigation.'"

"[Isn't anyone going to comment on that? How do you know so much about the Bureau's affairs??]"

"[Bureau of Investigation·Danger]"

"[The Bureau has become a sieve (sad)]"

"'This type of code is usually linked. Only by following it to a certain book can we hope to find the clues left behind. Albert's frequent visits here were probably in search of the clues left by Archie's father. Unfortunately, the books have been rearranged, so he hasn't found them yet.'"

"Hearing this, the light in Archie's eyes dims again: 'If he couldn't find it after searching for so long, it's even less likely for us. Maybe the book with the clues has already been thrown away by me.'"

"Indeed, that's also a possibility."

"Lan ponders for a moment, then turns his gaze to Frank, lying on the floor."

"Matcha Milk Green and A-Long's eyes light up. Without waiting for Lan to say more, they kick the drunkard sprawled on the floor: 'Hey! Wake up.'"

"The apartment manager, Frank, is rather unlucky. Not only was he nearly choked unconscious by Archie earlier, but he also got hit by a tranquilizer dart. Now he's just slowly coming to, and seeing Archie and Lan approaching, he scrambles back in fear."

"A-Long: 'Don't be nervous, we just want to ask you a few questions.'"

"Frank glances at his maid outfit. Though silent, his face clearly shows contempt and disbelief."

"A-Long: '...Hey, watch my temper.'"

"Before he can roll up his sleeves, Archie squats down, his face dark as he stares at Frank: 'Today's events, they're related to you, aren't they?'"

"At the sight of Archie's face, Frank's body starts trembling uncontrollably. Especially upon seeing the bullet holes around and the several unconscious men on the floor, his fear intensifies. He spills everything without waiting for Archie to do anything."

"Mercy, please! It was Albert who forced me to do this. If I hadn't complied, he would have had me arrested for theft!"

Archie, expressionless, responds, "Answer our questions properly, and we won't harm you. Are you also a member of the foreigners' group?"

Frank stammers, then lowers his head, "Yes, yes, I am. But I'm just an insignificant lackey, really. I hardly know anything about their affairs. My job was just to keep an eye on the apartment for Albert, and to inform him if anyone came. That's all I did, truly."

"So it was you who tipped them off!"

Frank shrinks back, a sheepish grin on his face, "They forced me into it; I had no choice!"

A-Long retorts, "Is that so? I don't believe you."

“……”

"Tell me, do you know why Albert comes here? What is he looking for?"

"Uh, he seems to be looking for something, but I don't know what it is. He always comes alone at night, stealthily, and doesn't allow anyone to follow him into the room."

"Really?" A-Long eyes Frank skeptically. "You didn't hide the item, did you?"

Frank shakes his head in terror, "Why would I hide it? It's not worth anything! If I were to steal, I'd take something valuable..."

Suddenly, he realizes his mistake and clams up.

Lan smirks, "We never mentioned what Albert was searching for. How do you know it's not valuable?"

Frank: "I guessed it. After all, his house doesn't look very wealthy."

However, even the players noticed something amiss in his demeanor, but Frank adamantly insisted he knew nothing, refusing to divulge anything.

"Then just take me to the police station!" Frank said through gritted teeth.

The two players smirked, "Police station? Do you think we are with the police?"

"Aren't you?" Frank looked towards the expressionless Archie.

"Unfortunately, we are not," A-Long said with a sinister smile. "In some ways, we're not much different from the organization of foreigners."

Frank was taken aback, his complexion changing dramatically.

"Alright then, since you claim to know nothing, you're of no use to us. Let's just sacrifice you, hehehe!"

"Exactly, you're worthless anyway."

Matcha Milk Green and A-Long each grabbed one of Frank's legs and dragged him towards a room marked with a magical circle. Frank was terrified, especially seeing their evil grins and Archie's inaction, his face filled with despair.

"I'll talk, I'll really talk! I didn't take it, I know about the book because I also searched secretly! I only spied on Albert's actions! But I really didn't find it!"

The players looked at each other, then let him go. Frank collapsed on the ground, crying and sniveling, utterly disheveled.

"Ah, why did you have to speak?" A-Long actually felt a bit regretful, as he was quite curious about the effects of the ritual circle.

Frank muttered something dazedly, probably something like 'devils'.

"Seems he really doesn't know, and our lead is lost again," Matcha Milk Green sighed in disappointment.

"What do we do now?" A-Long scratched his head. "Check every book?"

"There are too many," Matcha Milk Green observed, glancing at the bookcase filled with thick volumes. "Without knowing which one it is, this could take forever."

Suddenly, Lan had a thought about the time in his previous life when Arkham disappeared.

If he remembered correctly, it was a month after the beta test launch, leaving just one week in the present.

"Then it's too late," he murmured.

"Huh? What did you say?" Matcha Milk Green looked puzzledly at Lan, who then turned and walked into the room, standing in front of the bookcase.

Lan thought to himself that since they had come this far, not trying a bit harder would be unfair to their efforts, and to the clue Amos had deliberately given.

He closed his eyes, and two illusory dice appeared in the pitch-black space of his consciousness.

[Dice of Fate's Turn: The Twin D10]

Ordinary dice required rolling within the player's skill points to succeed, but Lan didn't have those skills. His dice mechanism was simpler: two ten-sided dice, 0 to 9, one for tens and one for units. A roll under 50 was a success, over 50 a failure, 1 to 5 a great success, and 95 to 100 a catastrophic failure.

The two D10s spun effortlessly in the air as he closed his eyes. Then, maintaining his closed-eyed stance, Lan reached for the book closest to him.

Luck: 40 (Success)

Lan opened his eyes and slowly exhaled, then looked at the book he had blindly selected.

"Mysteries of the World" - a thick volume. Lan thought about the internal codes of the Bureau of Investigation that Edmund had mentioned, and the corresponding scratches on the bookshelf, casually flipping through a few pages.

17、77、09、47、75、89

Following the sequence of numbers, Lan gradually found the information he was seeking between the pages.

So that's how it is.

"Lan, Lord Lan?" A-Long gaped at the book Lan had pulled out. "Could this be...?"

"Yes, got lucky. It seems this is the right book," Lan said casually.

The live stream fell silent for a moment.

【？？？？】

"[? Just like that, he found it?]"

"[This makes Albert, who searched for months, seem quite foolish]"

"[Is this what being blessed by fortune looks like?]"

"[This is absurd, who's really the Bureau of Investigation's undercover? Why is Lan so familiar with their codes?]"

Curious, the players leaned in, "Is this the clue left by Archie's father?"

"No, this is just one step," Lan said. After reading through the pages, he handed the book to Archie, then turned to inspect the room. He walked to the corner where the third wall met the window, and struck it with a hammer he had picked up earlier.

The wall crumbled, revealing a brick underneath. Lan tapped it, removed the hammer, and exposed a small cavity within.

The group gathered closer, seeing that a notebook had been embedded in the wall, surrounded by thin electrical wires forming a simple ignition device.

"If not opened correctly, the notebook would self-ignite," Lan explained. "The correct method to open it is recorded in the book I just retrieved, encrypted with a special code. Only by removing a specific brick can it be accessed."

With care, Lan carefully extracted the notebook from its hiding place.

It was a notebook about two fingers thick, its cover neatly wrapped in leather, still appearing intact.

The moment he saw the notebook, Archie's pupils contracted involuntarily, and he uncontrollably covered his forehead.

"Archie?" Lan looked at him sharply, worried that he might have remembered something.

"It's, it's nothing," Archie said, his chest heaving as he controlled his breathing, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the notebook. "I saw this notebook when I was a child."

"Are you going to open it here?"

After a moment of silence, Archie, under the curious gazes of A-Long and Matcha Milk Green, opened the notebook in front of everyone.

As the notebook was opened, everyone crowded behind Archie to see the contents.

Astonishingly, it contained intelligence about an organization.

[My name is Charlie Hayes, an investigator at the Bureau of Investigation. This is the first day of my record.]

[I have successfully infiltrated the foreigners' group. From today, I will record everything I see and hear. I don't know how long I can stay undercover, but I hope my records will become a beacon in the ultimate dawn.]

[The cult I've infiltrated is named the foreigners, a mysterious organization deeply rooted in Arkham. No one knows how long it has existed or when it appeared. From initial investigations, the followers of the foreigners mainly consist of Arkham's elite: bankers, politicians, tycoons, and celebrities. They wield significant influence in all societal strata.]

[So far, the foreigners have not organized any large-scale events. Their only activity is congregating lower-ranking followers for prayer every weekend. Their prayers are peculiar, longing for the foreigners' early return to their homeland, to where the leaves fall and root. Foreigners? Why that name? I've investigated these followers' public identities; many of them are locals from Arkham. Isn't this their homeland?]

[After two to three years of undercover work, passing tests of faith, I started gaining recognition from the higher-ups, encountering more followers. Finally, I understood their core belief system: most followers believe the world will soon face destruction. Only by leaving this world and reaching the realm of the gods can they avoid death.]

[They seem to believe that the realm of the gods is humanity's original Eden.]

[Our current world is but a desolate, lonely land of divine punishment, where all humanity is exiled as sinners.]