Chapter 56

Chapter 56

After leaving the Camui district, Lanen headed straight back to his psychotherapy room. Since players had not yet entered the game, the area outside his therapy room was unusually quiet.

Especially when contrasted with the surrounding dilapidated and chaotic streets, it seemed even more desolate due to the recent disaster in Arkham, with many shops remaining closed.

Lanen took one last look outside before entering his therapy room and closing the door.

The Camui matter was resolved; now, only Karens remained.

This time, however, he didn't go to Black Poker's territory but notified Karens through the light spots in the Dream Rift to come to see him.

Ten minutes later, Karens appeared at the door of the psychotherapy room.

"My Lord."

Karens strode into the psychotherapy room and knelt on one knee before Lanen, "I am profoundly grateful for your saving Arkham."

"…" Lanen.

How to put it, he was starting to get used to people kneeling before him, at least not as startled as he was at first.

Lanen said indifferently, "I merely did what I wanted to do."

"Your compassion is admirable," Karens bowed his head, "but that should not be a reason for us not to be grateful. Even if we are but ants in your eyes, we are ants that have survived thanks to your grace."

Had he always spoken like this?

Lanen, holding his teacup, almost spilled the tea with a tremor, hurriedly setting it down and coughing uncomfortably, "I understand, you can stand up now."

Karens then stood up.

He looked much more disheveled than before, probably due to rushing over. His suit was in disarray, his eyes had bloodshot lines from fatigue, but his gaze was spirited.

"I've called you here to officially establish a church," Lanen said, "It's already named, the Secret Church."

"Would you like to join?"

Karens' eyes flickered for a moment, then gradually brightened.

Was this finally an acknowledgment of his worth?

If previously Karens was motivated by interest and fear to join Lanen's force, the recent disaster in Arkham forced him to confront reality.

The reality is that ordinary humans have no power against threats of an extraordinary level.

Those anomalies, extraordinary beings, and fanatics don't care about destroying a city or two in passing.

But this city beneath their feet is the only soil where Black Poker and Karens can survive.

It's the land that haunts their dreams.

Like Edmund and Alqi, upon seeing that door and the entity closing it, Karens also immediately knew who He was.

And he knew, He was the only one who could save Arkham.

In Lanen's puzzled gaze, Karens stepped forward two steps, kneeled on one knee again, and lifted Lanen's hand to kiss it.

He looked up, his eyes filled with dark ambition, like a wolf: "I have been waiting for a long time."

Lanen pursed his lips, withdrawing his hand after Karens looked up: "Very well."

"I need Black Poker to issue tasks to the followers as well. You can have them do things, but it must be voluntary, and the followers will also have access to Black Poker's internal weapons and intelligence resources."

Facing Karens, Lanen adopted an entirely different attitude than with Carmen, perhaps sensing subconsciously that Karens would not be swayed by gentleness and kindness.

And indeed... he was right.

Facing Lanen's indifferent demeanor, Karens' expression grew more excited, licking his lips and pledging with a hand over his chest, "I shall follow your will."

Watching Karens also leave the psychotherapy room, Lanen sat in his office chair, lost in thought. With this, the Secret Church was beginning to take shape.

The Camui tribe and Black Poker, one a group skilled in potion-making and closely linked to the mystical, the other a violent armed force entrenched in the underbelly of Arkham. The Camui could offer tasks like herb gathering in exchange for potions and even qualifications to learn herbalism or psychology. Black Poker could provide investigative and gang-related tasks in exchange for learning combat and shooting skills.

This should be enough to keep the players busy... but Lanen felt like something was still missing.

What was it...?

As Lanen pondered, he suddenly felt a subtle shift in his mind.

He heard a voice praying, and it seemed to be coming from the Dream Rift?

Lanen closed his eyes and entered the Dream Rift, hearing more clearly now. A white light spot was flickering as if desperate to catch Lanen's attention.

Lanen approached the light spot and held the compliant light in his palm.

Instantly, an image came from the light spot: it was Edmund.

"Edmund?"

Feeling a familiar and profound gaze upon him, Edmund breathed a sigh of relief: "My Lord, I'm glad. I was worried I wouldn't be able to contact you."

Previously, Lanen's communications with his followers through the light spots were one-sided. As a follower, Edmund could only feel a presence watching him but couldn't initiate contact with Lanen.

This made Edmund anxious, especially after hearing that the Inspection Bureau's investigators planned to act against Lanen. Being under observation, he couldn't and didn't dare to seek out Lanen or even call to warn him.

Fortunately, today, he tried the prayer that came to his mind in his sleep and successfully contacted Lanen.

"This place is…" Lanen realized that Edmund was in a bathroom stall.

Edmund's face reddened, and he quickly checked his trousers, relieved they were still on. He stammered apologetically, "Sorry, my Lord, I'm under surveillance now. This is the only place I can contact you from."

"It's okay," Lanen was unconcerned about the location. More importantly, he was focused on the information Edmund had just revealed, "You mentioned you're being watched? Is it because your identity has been exposed?"

Worry unconsciously seeped into Lanen's tone. Edmund, grinning, reassured, "Rest assured, my Lord. I haven't revealed my identity as your follower. The surveillance I'm under is just the standard isolation observation period for investigators after completing a phase of their mission. It's routine for all investigators."

"Please listen to me," Edmund began, thoroughly briefing Lanen about the elite squad from the Inspection Bureau that had just appeared.

"And from their tone, it seems likely that the forces infiltrating Arkham recently are all targeting the 'Gatekeeper'. You must be very careful!" Edmund's voice was grave.

Lanen listened quietly, then suddenly asked, "Why do you think I'm the 'Gatekeeper'?"

This was a puzzle to him too. It was one thing for the players to think so, but why was Edmund so certain? Lanen had seen the promotional video; the brilliance in it had completely obscured him, and outsiders could at most discern a human-shaped shadow.

Edmund paused, about to reply 'because my intuition tells me it’s you', but then stopped abruptly.

Wait, was Lanen's question really just a literal inquiry?

Edmund pondered why Lanen would suddenly ask such an apparent question at this time. Could it be that he wasn't asking but reminding him?

"…I understand now," Edmund realized, "You mean to say I shouldn't regard you as the 'Gatekeeper'. You’re right, the perceptiveness of this new elite squad is far beyond that of my former team. If I keep this mindset, I will eventually expose flaws!"

Lanen: ?

Ah, wait, he was asking the literal question.

Edmund: "I will try to distance myself from this thought. I can do it, I will do it... I promised them I would join the investigation team. I will keep you informed from within."

Lanen: "Edmund…"

Just as he was about to correct Edmund’s misunderstanding, there came a 'knock knock' at Edmund’s end.

Researcher Clark's voice rang out from outside, "Are you done in there? I didn't hear the flush, are you constipated? Just say so, I have medication for that."

"No need!" Edmund shouted, his face red, while simultaneously pressing the flush button.

Lanen realized that his conversation with Edmund probably had to end there, regrettably withdrawing from the white light spot.

Back in the Dream Rift, Lanen silently pondered the information Edmund had revealed.

Although he had a vague premonition, the intelligence shared by Edmund still caused a sinking feeling in Lanen's heart.

As expected... he had been exposed to other forces.

From the moment he knew that his command to 'close the door' appeared in the dreams of all in Arkham and the players, Lanen had this foreboding. Now it seemed to be confirmed.

[You must not let those entities know about you.]

Those memories and Ogres' words all emphasized this point. Lanen took a deep breath, "Indeed, I need to further refine my plan."

The conversation with Edmund had put a lot of pressure on Lanen. He needed to ensure he gained the maximum advantage in the upcoming players' scramble.

But what else could he offer to attract players now...

Unable to come up with anything, Lanen decided to return to his apartment for a meal.

As usual, Ogres was cooking tonight. Lanen had tried cooking himself, but his culinary skills were lacking, so he was relegated to assisting Ogres or washing dishes after meals.

How could he make his faction offer something special that others didn't? Something that only players who join his faction could get. Potions could be one, but he had already promised Carmen not to restrict their sale, as they needed to support a whole community, and the current number of players might not sustain this.

Of course, it should be sufficient in the later stages.

What then could be unique to their faction, something absolutely appealing to the players?

At that moment, Ogres silently grasped Lanen's wrist. Lanen snapped back to reality, only to realize that his side was filled with green vegetable leaves.

The edible parts were in the trash can, while the inedible parts were in front of him.

Lanen paused, then awkwardly said, "Sorry."

Ogres shook his head, asking, "Is something wrong? You seem upset."

Having lived among humans for a while, Ogres spoke more fluently, rarely reverting to the halting speech he initially had in the hospital.

Lanen casually said, "Nothing much, just pondering what unique rewards I can offer my followers."

"Unique?"

"Yes, something other factions can't offer."

Since discovering that Ogres was not ordinary, Lanen had stopped trying to hide things from him. If those memories were true, then Ogres might be one of the people who understood him best. There was no point in keeping secrets from him.

Pondering, Ogres asked, "Do you mean god-given items?"

"What?" Lanen was taken aback.

"Humans refer to them as contaminants, seals, or oddities," Ogres explained, grasping the kitchen knife on the cutting board.

The ordinary stainless steel kitchen knife in his hand began to display black patterns, gradually transforming into the shape of a military dagger with a blood groove. Ogres placed a piece of beef beneath the transformed dagger. The dagger seemed to come alive, absorbing the blood. The red blood extended up from the groove, and the blade developed patterns resembling eyes.

Just when Lann thought the knife was about to come alive, the transformation suddenly stopped. The black lines gradually turned pale and, with a crack, the knife split into two.

Oggel picked up the two halves of the knife, shaking his head: "In this world, no wonders can be created."

Lann, dumbfounded, asked: "Wait a minute... are you saying all wonders are created by gods?"

"Most are, and a few are naturally formed in dreams," Oggel explained. "Besides, contaminated objects and sealed objects are similar, but the former are tainted by evil gods and difficult to use. Sealed objects are rarer, sentient items, even scarce in the dream world. It seems only a few gods have the privilege to create sealed objects."

Wait a minute...

Lann remembered the description of the staff he obtained in the Gap of Dreams, which seemed to be about endowing an object with sentience.

And he did successfully bestow Algie's origin with sentience, albeit a bit outrageous. But can a person's origin also be endowed with sentience?

Lann asked this question, and Oggel honestly replied: "It's possible, but very few beings do so."

"Why?"

"When you endow sentience, their origins develop their own thoughts. If they can coexist harmoniously with the host, it’s fine. But if not, they can potentially overpower the host."

Oggel paused: "However, there are some beings like us who do this deliberately... After endowing a follower's origin power with sentience, they kill that follower... This is why sealed items are created."

Lann's pupils slightly contracted.

Oggel, looking at Lann, said, “Something born from a living being has far more potential to become a sealed item than from an inanimate object, as they are inherently alive. Some gods have found that sealed items made from fanatical followers are more convenient to use.”

Lann fell silent, briefly skipping over this topic.

"If it’s impossible to create wonders in reality, then it seems somewhat meaningless," Lann sighed.

"Well, wonders were never meant to be mass-produced," Oggel scratched his head, "Generally, only the most core followers are entitled to possess them, but substitutes can be used."

Ogres pulled out another kitchen knife, the last one, and glanced at the vegetables on the cutting board. He silently put the knife down and instead picked up a soup spoon.

Lanen, suppressing a smile, watched Ogres perform. This time, black patterns covered the soup spoon too, but unlike before, the patterns quickly faded, leaving only faint traces. Then Ogres handed the spoon to Lanen.

Lanen took it, puzzled, but noticed nothing unusual. Before he could express his doubts, Ogres gestured for him to tap something.

Tentatively, Lanen tapped the wooden cutting board, and instantly, a small dent appeared on it despite Lanen not using much force!

So, the change was in the spoon. Ogres then revealed, "The spoon's weight has increased, but it feels like its original weight when held."

Lanen instantly understood, "Like enchantment in games?"

"Enchantment?" Ogres tilted his head, confused.

"Cough, I mean adding various magical effects to an item, like anti-magic, increased damage against dark creatures, and so on," Lanen almost forgot Ogres didn't play human games.

"That's roughly it," Ogres said. "This is like a semi-finished oddity. Not as strong as a true oddity, but still usable and less troublesome."

The most important part was probably the latter, Lanen thought, touching his chin, his eyes struggling, "It would be good to use, but I can't keep bothering you."

"You can do it too," Ogres said. Before Lanen could react, Ogres took back the spoon, rummaged around, and pulled out a frying spatula, handing it to Lanen, who took it blankly, "I can? I didn't know."

Before he could speak, Lanen stiffened as Ogres stood behind him, holding his wrist in an almost embracing manner.

Ogres, large like a bear, enveloped him completely, yet the giant seemed unaware as he held Lanen's wrist, saying, "…You can feel it."

Feel what?

A warm voice rose above his head, causing the youth's ears to blush shyly. But then he regained his focus, concentrating on his wrist.

A strange sensation flowed from where Ogres and his wrist connected.

It was as if a gentle wind was pushing at his back, urging him to do something. Riding this feeling, a dormant power within Lanen seemed to awaken, as green intermixed with silver patterns gradually covered the spatula.

When Lanen came back to his senses, the magical feeling had vanished, replaced by the sight of the spatula in front of him, shimmering with an extraordinary radiance.

Lanen, in silence, asked, "Is that all it takes?"

"Yes," Ogres nodded. "Different patterns carry different effects, and it also depends on the wielder's power. For instance, even if you and I engrave the same magic rune, the effects will differ due to our distinct powers."

Lanen realized this was the 'uniqueness' he and Ogres had discussed earlier.

If that was the case, indeed only his faction could produce such specially enchanted weapons.

Even without this uniqueness, it was enough to excite Lanen. After all, these were enchanted weapons!

Enchanted weapons typically appeared in the later stages of games. Early players would not come across such high-level equipment! And with enchanters being exceedingly rare, the enchanted weapons in players' hands were exorbitantly expensive, often a luxury for the wealthy.

Introducing such game-changing weapons at this stage would be a masterstroke!

Lanen immediately became excited. With such a powerful weapon at hand, how could he not attract players into his fold?

"Ogres!" Lanen turned excitedly and hugged the giant man fiercely.

"You're truly my lucky star!"

Ogres' body stiffened, slightly bewildered. He raised his hands to hug back but hesitated. Before he could decide, Lanen, his face flushed, had already let go, "Alright, I'll test what effects this spatula has."

Ogres' heart was beating so fast it made him uncomfortable.

Ogres watched Lanen's back with a dejected expression, but Lanen didn't turn around, focused on the spatula. Then, information automatically appeared in his mind.

[Vitality · Healing]

Two effects? Lanen's lips twitched, "Vitality? Healing? How is this spatula supposed to heal?"

Was he supposed to hit the injured with it??

At that moment, Ogres took the spatula, and under Lanen's astonished gaze, he gently tapped a fish in the water with it.

"…Wait a minute, this spatula’s ability is…"

Before Lanen could finish, the fish that had been barely alive suddenly sprang up like a jumping fish, leaping out of the water and then fiercely slapping Ogres across the face with its tail!

See! This is the revenge of the fish!

Lanen's expression twisted, and he eventually couldn't help but burst into laughter.

Ogres wiped the water off his face, looking helplessly at Lanen.

"Sorry, hahaha, this is just too funny," Lanen covered his mouth, laughing until his stomach hurt, while Ogres, expressionless, even patted Lanen's back to help.

"Haha... ah," Lanen finished laughing, feeling a bit embarrassed, especially since Ogres was just trying to help test the spatula's ability, even though no one expected such an outcome.

On the bright side, they no longer needed to worry about the freshness of their cooking ingredients.

Lanen touched his nose, no longer teasing Ogres, and said, "Thanks, Ogres, with this, the problem should be mostly solved."

Ogres: "You mean attracting followers?"

"Yeah, sort of. I've established an official church, the Secret Church," Lanen's gaze turned serious, "The sole purpose of this church is to safeguard the relationship between me and the 'Gatekeeper', and for that, I need to cover more followers."

Hearing this, Ogres lowered his gaze, seemingly in thought, then said, "If that's the case, semi-oddity creations might not be enough."

"Hmm? For them, it's already more than enough."

"True believers won't be attracted by mere benefits," Ogres gazed at Lanen, "They are drawn by their faith itself."

Lanen paused, then gave a resigned smile, "I think this level is enough to buy their loyalty, to make them faithful to the Secret Church."

At least until a greater benefit appears, betraying the Secret Church wouldn't be advantageous for the players.

Besides, Lanen never expected to win the players' faith. What kind of faith could the Fourth Cataclysm inspire? Just not betraying him was already enough for Lanen to be grateful.

"Lanen lacks confidence," Ogres frowned slightly, "You deserve more devout followers… In the dream world, you could manifest more miracles."

"Like the legend of Moses parting the sea," Lanen smiled, "Indeed, displaying miracles was the best way to attract followers in ancient times."

However, the idea of a Fourth Cataclysm is impossible. They've seen everything; how could they be attracted by mere miracles...

Huh?

Lanen suddenly realized he had overlooked something. While players might not be swayed by miracles,

it doesn't mean they don't appreciate CGI and grand spectacles!

Thinking about it, didn't Lanen start gaining popularity from the 'hospital CGI'? Just like what was humorously discussed on the players' forums, the NPC 'Lanen' himself had become as popular as the entire game!

Why did he overlook this? Players indeed pursue strength and equipment, but they crave more the freedom to 'do as they please.'

A viral divine image can attract bystanders straight into the game. Would these newcomers care about in-game equipment or faction missions at that point? No, they only care about what drew them into the game!

Lanen had an epiphany, "Thank you, Ogres, I almost forgot the most important thing!"

The NPC Lanen hadn't been 'in business' properly for a long time!

"You're welcome," Ogres said. "But we might have to eat out tonight."

Lanen looked at the chaotic kitchen and the solitary kitchen utensils, generously saying, "No problem, I'll treat you to dinner out."

After dinner, upon their return, Lanen delved back into his thoughts.

Tomorrow the players would arrive. Thanks to Ogres, Lanen had found the last piece of the puzzle to attract them. Yet, Ogres had also presented him with a new challenge.

The question was, how could he create a grand CGI spectacle to attract players?

Rolling around in bed for a while, Lanen couldn't come up with an answer and closed his eyes to enter the dream rift.

In a foggy space, as he calmed down, Lanen looked up at the endless dark, fog-shrouded sky, feeling a subtle stirring in his heart.

On reflection, the initial incident that captivated players was purely accidental, based solely on his appearance and the innate mysterious ambiance of the hospital.

Later, Lanen never intended to keep attracting players. After all, his psychotherapy room was often surrounded by players; he was more inclined to avoid them and hadn’t created any special viral images…

Ah, Lanen consciously ignored that one image with keywords [hospital, isolation room, straitjacket], which had become the source of numerous fan creations in that world.

He really, absolutely did not want to know the specifics of those creations!

The most recent topic that had sparked intense player discussions was the 'Gatekeeper', but Lanen couldn’t reveal himself to the players. Firstly, he needed to keep this secret, and although the players had guessed it, without evidence, he could deny it. Secondly, he had no idea how to revert to that state.

Still lacking a good idea and feeling somewhat restless, Lanen wandered in the dream rift, when he suddenly noticed the bell on the stone table.

Right, he still had unanswered questions from last time.

Lanen pressed the bell.

Meanwhile, at Archie's end.

He finally escaped the work arranged by his boss, leaving the police station amid mournful cries of his colleagues at 11 PM.

“Dr. Archie! Dr. Archie, don’t abandon us!”

"Wailing with despair, a police officer cried, 'Without your (coffee), how will we survive the night!'"

"Chief, Chief, aren't you going to say something?"

The police chief, along with the officers, had been working overtime, even relocating their bedding and toiletries to the station. Recently, due to past disasters, Arkham had been in turmoil. Not only were the citizens of Arkham City despairing from encounters with monsters and massacres, but a surge in opportunistic crimes like robberies, thefts, and an increase in murder cases had also been reported.

The police force was stretched thin, and everyone in the station, including consultant Archie, had been working overtime.

The chief, patting his round belly, chuckled, "Come on, Dr. Archie has already finished his tasks. And don't think I don't know, he's helped you guys a lot. Let him rest."

"We can't afford to burn out such precious talent."

Some officers, who were habitual in dragging others into overtime, quieted down at the chief's words. One whispered, "Lately, Dr. Archie has been much easier to get along with."

"I thought it wasn't just me who noticed. Has he changed? He even greeted me today."

"Me too, Dr. Archie's coffee is so good!"

"Ah, if only Sergeant Albert were here too."

The mention of Albert immediately quieted the previously animated group.

Everyone knew that Albert had taken leave from the station for a while and then went missing after the disaster, his fate unknown. And since Albert was Archie's best friend, the chief had to keep Archie at the station; otherwise, he might have been searching for him everywhere already. Unfortunately, there had been no news from the missing person's report.

"Alright, back to work," the chief urged, "Albert is capable; he'll be fine."

After returning to his apartment, Archie glanced at the clock and instinctively reached for his candles and other sleep aids, but then realized he didn't need to adhere to that specific time anymore to enter the dream rift.

Lying in bed, he closed his eyes and, without waiting for midnight, successfully entered the dream rift.

"This time, Archie was determined to answer whatever Sphinx asked, no matter what."

"Albert's disappearance was weighing heavily on Archie's mind."

"There was also the matter of the man in black. He had wanted to ask Lann about it, but due to the busy situation at the police station, he hadn't had the chance. From the moment he woke up to the time he hit the ground, he was whisked away to work overtime."

"Originally, Archie could have refused to work overtime. After all, his initial condition for joining the police force was his independent status as a psychological consultant, dealing solely with psychological matters, and nothing else. Before, Archie had no interest in anything beyond his field of expertise."

"But he had changed."

"Perhaps it was his father's notebook or the events at the hospital that caused it, but Archie suddenly realized that the places and people he had previously dismissed might conceal crucial things invisible to him."

"No one can live in isolation from others; pride had unwittingly become the blindfold obscuring his vision."

"So, Archie made a change."

"Closing his eyes, he entered the familiar foggy space and, facing the creature that resembled him, took a deep breath, 'Ask away.'"

"'Oh, so you've come prepared this time,' Sphinx said, intrigued, and raised itself to speak, but then suddenly paused, 'Ah, such bad timing, my master has called me.'"

"Archie: '? Aren't you my creature?'"

"'Just a moment,' Sphinx replied, without waiting for Archie's reaction, leaping into the mist."

"Archie: '???'"

……

"'Master! Finally, I see you again. You're as dazzling as ever today!' Sphinx eagerly approached, rubbing against Lann's leg."

"Apart from the face, it indeed resembled a large lion. But once its face, eerily similar to Archie's, was added to the equation, the scene became quite disturbing."

"Although Lann enjoys petting fluffy creatures, this particular fluffy being was the kind that could cause a loss of sanity!"

Lann took a step back, maintaining his composure, "Well, I called you here because there's something I'd like to ask you."

"No problem!" Sphinx replied eagerly. "Do you prefer cats or dogs?"

Lann hesitated briefly, "If I have to choose, I'd say dogs."

Sphinx's jaw dropped, frozen on the spot.

Oh no, if the first question fails, what will happen to Archie's chances?

"But I think cats are adorable too," Lann quickly added, "It's just that I have a slight preference for dogs."

Phew, that was close. There's still hope!

Relieved, Sphinx asked, "So, what would you like to know?"

Lann initially wanted to continue inquiring about yesterday's curiosities, like the true origins of the man in black, but now he had something else more pressing on his mind. Additionally, he was curious about the thinking ability of this self-proclaimed Sphinx, who claimed to have been endowed with sentience by him, so he asked:

"If I want to awe humans and make them interested in joining my faction, what would be the best way to do that?"

Sphinx questioned, "You mean you want to gather followers?"

"Um, you could say that."

"That's easy! How could anyone refuse you?! Just by speaking, no human in the world could resist joining your congregation! None!" Sphinx suddenly became excited.

Lann was momentarily speechless, "Ah, I see. Please, calm down a bit."

He felt a bit disappointed, perhaps he had overestimated [Sphinx]'s thought process. Although the being now showed remarkable intelligence, it might still be closer to a 'Wikipedia' or search engine.

Sphinx calmed down, "I apologize for my excitement. Although I personally would never refuse any of your requests, if I must say, gaining access to your divine realm and beholding your holy presence would surely be the highest honor for a follower."

"Entering a divine realm?" Although Lann found Sphinx's idea sensible, it was unfortunately not feasible. "I don't have any such divine realm."

"Why would you think that?" Sphinx questioned in confusion. "The divine realm I speak of isn't a specific location. Any place where you descend, any place you choose to bless, any place you've walked upon, all can become your divine realm."

Even with this explanation, Lann couldn't think of any place that could serve as his divine realm. After all, every inch of land in Arkham City had its owner, and anything like a divine realm might cause trouble if it caught the attention of the Inspection Bureau or other cult organizations.

Unless there was a place very hidden and inaccessible to others without his permission.

...Wait a minute.

Lann paused, suddenly struck by a thought.

Indeed, there was such a place.