Chapter 35

Chapter 35

After browsing the forum, Lan has six points to mention: ...

If he were still a player, facing such a major mainline quest would undoubtedly excite and intrigue him.

But as someone about to personally experience such events, Lan felt his scalp tingle.

The thought of moving resurfaced, this time more overwhelming and irrepressible than ever.

Lan stood up and walked into the bathroom, looking at his reflection in the mirror.

That nearly perfect human appearance served as a reminder: he was not meant for a normal life.

With so many people wishing to cross into other worlds, why was it him who was chosen?

Lan's mouth drooped in a frown, overwhelmed by the thought of lurking dangers, unknown conspiracies, and the burning city of Arkham.

Lan was not the type who relished the extraordinary or adventures. He was cat-like in his preference for leisurely days, enjoying afternoons lying in a rocking chair, basking in the sun, dozing off. He was not keen on living on the edge.

He walked heavily out of the bathroom, almost bumping straight into Ogel.

"Ogel?" Lan looked up in surprise.

"Hmm," Ogel lowered his head, looking at Lan and said, "You're back."

Lan paused for a moment, then smiled wryly, "Yes, I'm back."

"I was just about to look for you," Ogel spoke slowly, his eyes downcast, long hair covering his face. Lan inexplicably felt that he seemed aggrieved, "I noticed you were gone."

Lan was momentarily at a loss for words: "Didn't I tell you on the phone that I would be back late today?"

Ogel, upon hearing this, took out his phone, opened the message, and realized with an 'oh'.

It seemed he hadn't checked his phone at all that day.

Lan felt both exasperated and amused; his roommate always seemed out of sync with the world, spending his days painting, doing household chores, or cooking, immersed in his own world.

This made him feel helpless, yet also a bit envious. Because once upon a time, in his past life, he too lived such a life.

If it weren't for all that had happened, maybe he would still be living that happy and ordinary life.

Thinking this, Lan couldn't help but feel a wave of melancholy.

A warm touch came from his forehead. Lan looked up to find Ogel's large hand resting on his forehead, his expression filled with unstoppable worry: "Are you feeling unwell?"

"No," Lan chuckled and shook his head, "Just a bit tired."

Ogel fell silent upon hearing this, appearing to ponder something. Then, after two or three seconds, to Lan's astonishment, Ogel raised his arm and embraced him.

Lan, suddenly hugged: ???

"Comfort," Ogel said in a low voice. "Among humans, this seems to be the way."

However, Lan hardly heard what Ogel was saying; he was completely taken aback by the softness against his face.

...That part must be the pectoral muscles, right?

Due to Ogel's large size, he habitually slouched and preferred wearing loose clothing, so Lan had never realized his impressive physique, even possessing well-defined pectorals!

A homebound painter with such an amazing body and abs, was that even reasonable?!

Lan, amidst his shock, felt a mix of envy and resentment. Why did everyone eat the same food, and yet he had no muscles at all??

Eventually, he regained his composure and somewhat awkwardly pushed Ogel away.

"Ogel,"

Lan looked at him earnestly: "I want to move, leave this city. Would you come with me?"

"Okay."

"There may be danger in Arkham City soon, sorry I can't explain more..."

Laine was struggling to explain when he suddenly received an affirmative response from Ogle, "Really?"

"Wherever you go, I’ll follow."

Ogle looked down at him, his gaze intense and resolute. Laine was momentarily taken aback, a strange suspicion flickering in his mind, but he quickly regained his composure, his expression turning serious, "Then let's leave, now."

Pack up and leave, leave this place immediately!

Ever since Laine left the hospital, his goals were earning money, moving, and leaving Arkham. His plan was to save a bit more money, then observe Dr. Archie's movements and leave Arkham before the real chaos unfolded, to spend the rest of his life in a corner where players wouldn't find him.

But now, even though he had saved enough money to move, he felt himself being drawn deeper into the conspiracy.

If he didn’t extricate himself now, there might never be another chance.

If the involvement of the Outsiders had raised Laine's guard, it was Amos's appearance that broke the final straw, making him realize it might be time to leave.

He didn't know if Amos was involved in this matter at this point in his past life, but according to the experiences summarized by players, Amos was certainly a harbinger of death. If he appeared before an NPC, it meant that NPC was marked as a target.

With Amos involved, Arkham had escalated from merely inhospitable to a hellish place. He needed to move out immediately, or it would be too late!

"Let's quickly prepare to leave. We don’t need to pack much, just travel light."

In his past life, Lann had abundant experience in fleeing scenarios. An expert at evasion, he often delighted in escaping the GM's grasp, fully aware that once the decision to leave was made, any delay could spell disaster. It was also best not to announce his departure, as it could provoke those lurking in the shadows.

So, Lann packed just some personal clothes and money, didn't even terminate his apartment lease, giving the impression they were just stepping out temporarily, and headed straight for the airport with Ogle.

This highlighted his extensive experience in making quick exits.

As for Edmund and the others, Lann decided to explain once they were on the plane, urging them to seek refuge as soon as possible.

On the taxi ride to the airport, the driver glanced in the rear-view mirror and asked, "Are you going on a trip?"

Ogle didn't respond, and Lann, accustomed to his reticence when outside, replied with a smile, "Sort of, just going out for a bit."

"Youth is great, isn't it? You can go out anytime," the driver said enviously. Lan noticed his uneven skin tone and the redness on his neck under the hat, signs of long-term sun exposure from driving a taxi. "But I'll be going on a trip soon, too, with my family. I've been saving for half a year. I'll see them at the end of the year."

Lan's gaze shifted to the right, seeing a family photo by the driver's seat. It showed a man embracing a woman, with a five or six-year-old girl in the middle, her face dotted with freckles.

"Is that your family?"

"Yes, but we're divorced. I only get to see my child at the end of the year," the driver said, shrugging nonchalantly, "I messed up a lot in the past, so my wife left."

"Oh," Lan replied dryly, looking around to change the subject. Suddenly, he noticed through the car window a large vacant lot fenced off. "What's that over there?"

"Uh, it seems like just a vacant lot." The driver glanced quickly and pursed his lips. "Probably some government planning issue. It's been empty for so long. Anyway, as I was saying..."

"Where was I? Oh, my wife and I divorced. I've changed, and I'm working hard to earn money. My wife agreed to let me travel with them at the end of the year... It's been more than half a year since I last saw my little girl. Only God knows how much I miss them, but in a few months, we'll be together again."

The driver hummed a happy tune towards the end, but Lan's smile faded, and he looked out the window, suddenly losing interest in chatting.

He had spent too much time with players and nearly forgot.

This isn't a game, this is the real world.

For players, Arkham City is just a failed copy, but for the people living in this city, it's 512,820.

Five hundred and twelve thousand, eight hundred and twenty people.

That's the number of lives lost in this city.

When they arrived at the airport, Lan handed a bill to the driver. The jovial, singing driver, however, refused to take it: "I decided to pick one lucky person for a free ride on my wedding anniversary."

"Oh, today is your anniversary? Happy anniversary?"

"No."

“？”

Seeing Lan's puzzled face, the driver laughed heartily: "Actually, it's tomorrow, but I liked you guys, so I thought, why not pick a couple for a free ride?"

"Uh, we're not," Lan said awkwardly.

"Really? But the way that young man behind you looks at you tells a different story. Even in the car, he kept his eyes on you. I recognize that look; it's the same one I had when I was young, looking at my first love," the driver winked at Ogel, "Don't be shy, young man. This is a free country."

Amidst Ogel's expressionless face and Lan's awkwardness, the driver laughed heartily, rolled up the window, and prepared to leave. Before driving off, Lan advised, "If possible, consider moving up your travel plans. Something bad might happen in this city soon. It's better to leave earlier."

"Thank you for the heads up, but I've been driving in this city for many years. I'll avoid danger. Besides, I need to earn tuition for my daughter!" the driver replied.

The taxi drove away.

Lan watched silently as the taxi disappeared into the distance, knowing that mere words couldn't save anyone.

"Lan?" Ogel looked at him.

Lan took a deep breath: "Let's go, it's almost time to board."

Honestly, his mind was a mess right now.

He thought about the final outcome of Arkham City described in the forums of his previous life. What exactly happened after the players' mission failed? He couldn't remember now, only vague images remained in the old posts on the forum, becoming fragmented records in the game's historical events.

Arkham City consumed by flames, monsters roaming the streets, investigators failing, disappearing forever with the city, not even a grave remained.

A simple line of text made it impossible for Lan to reconcile with the city he had lived in these past days.

In the airport waiting room, Lan and Ogel sat facing each other, somewhat dazed. Lan thought he would be happy to escape the danger soon, but in reality, he wasn't.

As a player, he could easily leave a module without any burden. Why now, when he had only one life to live, did he feel hesitant?

Lan inwardly smirked at the irony. Even if he stayed, what could he really do? He knew he was somewhat unusual, but the truth was, he wasn’t as powerful as others imagined. Even if he stayed, his role wouldn't be much greater than that of the players. And if they had failed initially, what chance did he have to turn things around?

Thinking this way, he felt more at peace. At worst, once he reached another city, he could warn others to escape Arkham quickly.

“Passengers of flight C1087, please proceed to the boarding gate…”

As the announcement played, Lan and Ogel stood up and followed the staff's directions to the boarding gate. The young flight attendant at the gate greeted them with a naive smile: “Have a pleasant day.”

Lan, preoccupied with his thoughts, hastily responded and proceeded to board with Ogel. Just then, he felt a strange sensation and turned his head. At the corner of the boarding gate, he glimpsed a fleeting black coat.

...Probably just his imagination.

Albert stood at the airport corner, easily observing Lan and Ogel boarding the plane. He fiddled with his phone but did nothing.

They're leaving... perhaps it's for the best.

He thought complicatedly, regardless of what Lan 'was,' he had now become a core part of the Foreigners' leader's plan. If Lan left, the headache would be Soren Hog's.

Once gone, never come back. As long as they left Arkham City, even those mad Foreigners couldn’t touch them.

Albert adjusted his scarf. Arkham City had entered winter, and he felt it had never been as cold as today.

But the spring of next year would surely be warmer than ever before.

As Albert left the airport, he put a cigarette in his mouth and lit it with a lighter.

The Foreigners' conspiracy had progressed to its final stage, and this dark period was finally coming to an end.

Time to get prepared in advance.

A taxi pulled up in front of Albert, and the enthusiastic driver stepped out to greet him. As Albert was about to get into the cab, he suddenly froze in his tracks.

He heard a familiar yet indistinct voice coming from the noisy entrance of the airport.

"...I should have known, it's the same everywhere..."

Disbelieving, Albert turned his head and saw the familiar tall and short figures. Lan's face stood out so distinctly in the crowd that he was immediately recognizable.

"Why..."

Why have you come back?

With a look of utter frustration, Lan and Ogel walked out of the airport, thinking to himself:

He should have realized it sooner; the problem wasn't with the world, it was with him!

When boarding the plane, he saw from the window a B-level monstrous Scythe Weasel flying freely in the sky. He saw a giant in the distance, too far to make out its form, entering the clouds. In his past life, he had never seen such level of creatures and couldn't even be sure if they were monsters, evil gods, or something else entirely.

At that moment, he understood; there was indeed no problem with Arkham.

The problem was with the person who could see these extraordinary things.

Arkham was about to face a catastrophe. He could run, he could cold-heartedly abandon the entire city, but if he could escape the city this time, could he leave the country next time? And after that, could he abandon this world?

Amos wouldn't easily let go of his target. Could Lan evade him once and do so countless times? Was he to spend the rest of his life in endless flight and despair?

Lan had already given himself the answer. At the last moment of confirmation, he disembarked from the plane. He had intended to persuade Ogel to stay in another city, but Ogel, without a word, followed him off the plane.

"Alright, that works. Having company on the journey is better than being alone if things get tough."

Lan had decided not to run away anymore. At least in this city, he wasn’t completely without advantages. He still had many cards to play, and even in a situation of near-certain death, there was still that slim chance of survival to fight for.

Strangely, when Lan chose to embark on this path fraught with despair and obstacles, his feelings of guilt and remorse suddenly vanished.

He didn't consider himself a savior, nor did he think he must save everyone. He didn't possess such lofty morals or compassion.

But he was indeed an investigator, having outwitted the KP in countless modules, overcoming numerous seemingly unbeatable foes.

And this time would be no different.

He was never alone in his struggles.

……

Albert watched as Lan's figure disappeared into the crowd, lost in thought. He then turned and left, sending a message to Amos to arrange a formal meeting.

Their meeting place was another safe house in Arkham City. This time, Albert activated all the security systems as soon as he entered, figuring it was better than doing nothing at all.

Amos, after politely knocking, also entered the safe house. He was dressed in a British-style trench coat and carried a black box.

"I was wondering when you'd come to find me again," Amos said with a smile.

Albert looked at him coldly, stepping aside to let him in. As Amos sat down, Albert took off the necklace and casually tossed it to him.

"What's wrong? Isn't it useful?"

"I no longer need it."

"That's hard to say." Amos' lips curled into a smile. "Besides its disguising function, the greatest use of this artifact is to block the corruption from the Rift of Dreams. I believe you've noticed that... It's best you keep wearing it if you don't want to falter at a crucial moment."

Albert didn't take the necklace, just coldly stared at him: "You never mentioned that this artifact's side effect would influence my emotions."

"It's bound to have some effect since it involves soul disguise, like wearing a personality mask. Haven't you heard, Mr. Albert, that wearing a mask for too long makes it hard to take off?"

Amos said with a sly smile: "I prefer to call this artifact a 'Personality Converter.' It's not just for disguise; wearing it on the soul can also temporarily block the influence of the Rift of Dreams. All these features for just a small price, don't you think it's a bargain?"

Hesitating for a moment, Albert put the necklace back on.

"Let's get to the point," Albert said, sprawling on the sofa, "You came to me for a collaboration to oppose Soren Hog, right?"

"Exactly," Amos smiled, "True to your reputation as a double agent, Mr. Albert."

He observed Albert's changing expression, corners of his mouth lifting: "Why else would I be sure you'd stand against High Priest Hog unless I was certain of your identity?"

"Don't worry, we have the same objective. We can get along just fine."

Albert gave him a deep look.

Amos Dur, always an anomaly among the Foreigners, unlike the typical devotees obsessed with their doctrine. He had consistently and eagerly assisted Soren Hog in various tasks, but his stance became ambiguous as the Foreigners neared their ultimate goal.

At the same time, this man's origins were a mystery. Albert couldn't find any records on him, neither in the police nor in the Bureau of Investigation.

As if he never existed.

"Why did you betray Hog?" Albert asked, then added, "Exchange of objectives is the basic foundation of cooperation."

"Ah," Amos sighed deeply, looking somewhat troubled, "Why does everyone like to ask that question?"

"Isn't it common understanding to pluck the sweetest fruit, the most beautiful flower at the most suitable time of cultivation?"

Albert was silent for a while: "As expected, I still don't like you."

"I, on the other hand, quite like you," Amos smiled, "If it weren't for having found the ultimate goal I wish to pursue, I wouldn't mind helping you."

"Thanks, but no thanks," Albert said, tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Let's cut to the chase. I need to know Soren Hog's real plan and his power range," Albert said, fixating on Amos, "You've been infiltrating this organization for so long, you can't possibly be clueless."

Amos chuckled lightly: "Of course, that's exactly why I'm here."

"First, having infiltrated the organization for so long, you must know the ultimate goal of the Foreigners."

"To drag the entirety of Arkham into 'the realm of the gods,' or the dream world, right?" Albert scoffed, "What a bunch of lunatics."

"Indeed, they are lunatics, and what's more, they consider themselves lost souls," Amos said nonchalantly, "Bad news, these lunatics, after years of exploration, have finally found a way to open the passage to the dream world."

"To be precise, it's something each of us already knows."

Albert's throat tightened: "The Rift of Dreams."

"Exactly," Amos clapped his hands, "The dream and the reality gap, such an apt name. Who would have thought the way to the dream world would be so simple and direct? Just descend the nine-layer staircase, and you can find the entrance to the dream world. Each of us can become 'the gate'."

"Of course, this is the normal way. But this path has been impassable for hundreds, even thousands of years. No one knows what lies beyond the seventh layer of the Rift of Dreams. Everyone who ventured deeper either turned mad or disappeared, never to return."

"So this path is essentially closed. At this point, a madman began to think, if depth doesn’t work, can we force open the dream world's gate through a horizontal accumulation of quantity?"

"Horizontal?" Albert struggled to understand.

"Vertically, it’s about an individual descending the staircase of the Rift of Dreams, delving deeper into their subconscious, developing their potential, while gradually nearing the subconscious dimension."

"The dream world is the dimension of all beings' dreams, entirely formed by the subconscious. To maintain stability, it continuously absorbs those with strong spirits as residents. Those who develop their subconscious to the extreme have the right to open the dream world's gate and become its residents."

"At the same time, every individual is a point, and any sane person can potentially open the Rift of Dreams," Amos explained, "So, can’t we imitate the dream world, using the dreams of an entire city's people, to create an infinite Rift of Dreams similar to the dream world? A quantitative change causing a qualitative change, forcibly transitioning to this dimension."

Albert frowned deeply: "Is that even possible?"

"In fact," Amos shrugged, "they already have a successful case. Haven't you witnessed it yourself? Although the gate they opened only lasted a second, and was forcibly occupied by some entity at the moment of its opening. Poor high priest, it was like being kicked off the highway at high speed, unable to fulfill his grand ambition to return to the dream world."

"Return to the dream world?"

"Yes," Amos said calmly, "That's precisely why this organization is named the Foreigners, but in truth, there's only one real foreigner among them!"