Chapter 111

Chapter 111

Lan looked through the forum and quickly found himself laughing and crying at the same time as he exited it.

Although he had anticipated players' reactions when he released the message, he didn't expect them to be so eager, skipping right over speculations and preparing to stab the Investigative Bureau in the back.

Could it be said that his groundwork had been laid too well?

In his previous life, the dark side of the Investigative Bureau was deeply buried, only revealed after the open beta. At that time, the bureau still maintained its disguise, and with it being the largest faction with the most players, most players couldn't believe what they were uncovering. Besides, many Investigative Bureau NPCs had gained popularity among the players, so even with the main storyline emerging, some players were reluctant to turn against them.

Now, however, the situation was vastly different. The main storyline's clues were revealed too early in Archy's father's notebook, planting seeds of doubt in the players' minds towards the bureau. Add to that the betrayal of Albert, who was secretly working as an informant, and even without the official revelation of the main storyline, most players had already accepted the Investigative Bureau as the primary antagonist in the game.

This, however, was a good thing for him. The Investigative Bureau's influence spanned the entire nation and even neighboring countries. If they were to truly confront this behemoth, the players' collective strength would be crucial.

Then, Lane recalled Amos's words.

The mysterious Chief Investigator is coming? And their target is Albert and the others?

But why would it be them?

...

"Perhaps you should wait a bit longer?"

"He won't look over here anymore. What's the point in waiting?" Archie said nonchalantly, tidying up his personal items on the bedside table. "I have my own tasks to attend to, and I never cared much for this anyway."

The Sphinx wanted to comment on Archie's tone but, considering the latter's sensitivity, decided to console him instead. "With such a grand display, Lord Lane is likely resting now."

Archie remained silent.

In reality, the situation was straightforward. After waking up, Archie had been thoroughly examined by the doctors who found no issues with his health. They were puzzled as to why he had been in a coma for so long without any apparent reason. As a result, they insisted on keeping Archie for further observation. During this time, both he and the Sphinx had nothing to do, which led to them making a bet.

The wager was whether or not Lane would glance in their direction. Recalling how often Lane had sought him out and for what purpose, Archie pessimistically chose 'no'.

The stakes were that the Sphinx would encourage Archie to be more sincere when facing Lane. With the number of canines in the cult increasing, if he didn't compete for favor, Lane's affection might all go to those fawning followers!

The Sphinx, of course, chose 'yes' and was very confident. Having spent some time with Lane, he was certain that Lane was a deity who genuinely cared for his believers. Moreover, his ability was incredibly useful. From the value it held alone, it was clear who would become Lord Lane's favorite feline!

However, as the day passed, the Sphinx's nerves began to fray.

Wait a moment… Does Sphinx and Arch combined not surpass those sycophants?

Lord Lane is being foolish!

Sphinx scratched the floor of the Dream Gap with resentment, as if treating the floor before it as an imaginary enemy.

Arch ignored Sphinx's commotion, packed his belongings—there wasn't much to pack, mainly clothes and toiletries from the past few days—and turned towards the door.

The instant a figure covered in a white cloth appeared in his field of vision, Arch almost dropped his luggage. A glass water cup, stuffed inside his fully-packed backpack, tumbled out and fell towards the ground.

No shattering sound echoed. Something invisible, at least to Arch's eyes, caught the glass cup. His gaze slowly shifted from the cup to the figure.

"Lord Lane," Arch's mouth opened slightly.

"It's me," Lane said gently. "I apologize for being late. I've been swamped with work these past few days."

Who could have known that this version update would be so swift, shortening the time new players spent in the tutorial? Lane had to focus all his attention on the Miskatonic University map until he could finally spare some time to visit Arch now that the university temporarily settled down.

The Sphinx's sudden insect bite remained a mystery. Add to that Amos's mention of the Director's interest in his disciple, and despite just resolving a major event, Lane could sense storms brewing once more.

"No, please don't say that," Archimedes replied promptly. "I'm already..."

He instinctively held back the latter part of his sentence, but the Sphinx in the Realm of Dreams let out an annoyed hush.

"I'm already very pleased," he finished.

Lane smiled and extended his hand to Archimedes. "Shall we go then?"

Lane led Archimedes into the Divine Kingdom and explained the reason behind his previous unconscious state.

"I'm unsure how to deal with that Truth Worm for the time being, so I won't be utilizing Sphinx's abilities just yet," Lane said.

Sphinx immediately grew anxious, for it was already within Lane's divine realm. Lane had previously granted Sphinx the authority to come and go as it pleased. Thus, it took on its true form. "No, Lord Lane, I can manage. We just need to take a more cautious approach!"

"This is the cautious approach," Lane replied calmly.

Upon hearing this, Sphinx felt a surge of affection. It couldn't resist rubbing against Lane's extended finger.

Archie, who witnessed this scene with his own eyes, was left speechless. ...

The relationship between Origin Powers and their possessors was peculiar, to say the least – one could consider an Origin Power an extension of its owner. Though Sphinx had boasted about Lane countless times before Archy, this was the first time he'd witnessed Sphinx being so shameless, and more importantly, at his expense. Archy's gaze toward Sphinx now brimmed with hostility.

Sphinx ruffled its fur and chose to disregard it.

Lane led Archy through the grounds of Arkham Hospital. "I've also granted you access to the Divine Realm. From now on, you can enter it anytime you're within the hospital's boundaries. I won't interfere with your daytime work, but I hope you'll spend the nights here whenever possible."

Archy: ?

Sphinx: ?!!

Sphinx instantly grew agitated, signaling frantically to Archy. Archy, with a cold expression, ignored Sphinx's frantic gaze, hesitating. "This...,

At first, he hadn't thought anything inappropriate, but Sphinx's excited gaze stirred memories of Albert once mentioning in a jealous tone that Lane seemed to have a liking for him.

No, no, no. Back then, it was because of his unauthorized investigation that caught Lane's attention.

...That should be the case, right?

"I understand it might be inconvenient for you," Lane explained calmly, "but someone has informed me that a troublesome enemy has set their sights on you recently. In the Divine Realm, I can ensure your safety."

Archie froze slightly, his gaze instantly fixing on the white cloth that concealed Lane's face.

He said,

"Whatever decision you make, there's no need to explain it to us. I will surely abide by it."

From initial wariness and fear, Archie now sensed a gentleness from Lane.

He realized that Lane seemed to have changed, no longer exuding the terrifying aura he once did. But upon closer reflection, it dawned on Archie that it wasn't Lane who had changed, but himself.

Unconsciously, he found himself drawn closer to the god in his heart.

And this couldn't be explained away as mere psychological suggestion.

Lane hadn't expected to hear such an expression of loyalty from Archie. Under the white cloth, his eyes gave him a slightly surprised glance.

"Well, I'll arrange a room for you in the Divine Realm. You can choose to reside at the University of Michigan up there, or here at Arkham Hospital."

"Let's go with Arkham Hospital," Archie decided without much hesitation. He wasn't familiar with the University of Michigan, and besides, he was accustomed to the scent of disinfectant in hospitals.

The Sphinx wagged its tail happily beside Archy, an indication of its good mood. Though Lane didn't mean it that way, entering the Divine Realm was indeed a significant advancement! For a believer to achieve this...

"Right, let me introduce you. You've met Edmund before."

Lane suddenly recalled something and looked towards the adjacent corridor. Edmund, in his hospital gown, poked his head out from his single room, his eyes lighting up when he saw Lane. "My Lord."

"And also, Kerry Chapman, your new colleague."

Kerry stepped out from Edmund's side and, upon seeing Archy, extended his hand in a casual greeting.

The Sphinx's joyful tail-wagging came to an abrupt halt.

It turned out that Archy wasn't the only one receiving such treatment, and they didn't even seem to be the first or second...

"I had intended to invite Carrens and Albert as well, but Carrens said he needed to stay in Black Poker, and Albert is..." Lane struggled to find the right words to describe Albert. Ever since Lane had let him out, Albert had been like a unleashed husky, never to return, a mature stray dog. "Well, he has some matters to attend to."

Anyway, Albert's combat strength was probably the strongest among all the believers, so it should be fine if they left him alone for a while...right?

Archy didn't say anything, but a vague sense of disappointment stirred within him. He looked down at the Sphinx, only to find it staring intently at Kerry with a wary expression.

Archibald's mind was filled with questions. Why did the Sphinx have that expression? Could it be that he had discovered something...

He followed the Sphinx's gaze, casually looking at Cris. However, he found that Cris's attention had been fixed on Lane from the start. To avoid being too obvious, he stared at Lane's hidden face for a moment before his eyes gradually drifted down, taking in the slender neck, waist, wrists, delicate fingertips, and slim ankles.

Then, he narrowed his eyes slightly, adopting a look of satisfaction, as if he were a cat that had had its fill of catnip.

Noticing Archibald's gaze, Cris turned his head slightly, casting him a sidelong glance with a sneer playing on his lips.

The Sphinx swiftly returned to Archibald's Dreamscape. It wasn't out of fear but impatience. It started bickering loudly within Archibald's Dreamscape:

"You're staring at him! A shameless cat! I can hardly believe someone like that could become our colleague!" The Sphinx prowled about in Archibald's Dreamscape, agitated as a lion whose territory had been invaded. "I simply can't believe it. We've only been asleep for a while, and our Lord already has a new pet!"

"I'm not a cat," Archibald retorted coldly.

"Who cares what you are? I am one! And since I am, so are you! Our honor and disgrace are intertwined!" the Sphinx roared. "And now, because of your stubborn pride and dishonesty, we haven't secured an advantageous position in our Lord's heart. Didn't I tell you that he would eventually find a new cat?"

Archibald ignored the Sphinx's inexplicable sense of crisis. Cats were inherently neurotic, and though he didn't know if the Sphinx actually belonged to the feline family, it seemed just as crazy even if it didn't.

"You must have met each other at the Inspectorate's base. There's no need for introductions," Lane said, oblivious to the tensions among his followers. In his view, Archibald had managed to get along well with Edmund and Cris before, so there shouldn't be any issues now that they were all part of the same church.

"No need, I'm quite familiar with this psychologist," said Kerry indolently.

"Dr. Archy, it's been a while. Thank you for your previous assistance," Edmund said politely, maintaining his facade.

"It's nothing," Archy replied coldly.

Lane was about to arrange rooms for them in the Divine Realm when he was abruptly interrupted by Hyacinth, who had rushed over with an urgent message.

By the way, Hyacinth wasn't referring to the flower; it was one of Lane's new botanical creations. Its distinguishing feature was that it didn't need to be planted in soil but could float like dandelion seeds after maturing. These transparent flowers were even lighter than dandelions and almost invisible to the naked eye. Once airborne, they wouldn't touch the ground until their life cycle ended.

They were light and tiny, filling every corner of the Divine Realm, serving as Lane's messengers.

"There's trouble with Ogler?" Lane frowned slightly and instantly vanished from Arkham Hospital.

He reappeared in the sky above MIT, where he had designated an area for his laboratory. Currently, his only subject of study was Amos.

The carnivorous plant that had consumed Amos had been transplanted there. Lane intended to observe how Amos would resurrect and had asked Ogler to keep an eye on things during his brief absence.

After all, Ogler had also come from the Dream World. Though Lane wasn't sure how powerful he was, supervising the garden should pose no problem.

He initially assumed that Hyacinth's message indicated some emergency at the research institute, prompting him to teleport directly here. Upon arrival, he found that everything was actually fine, except that Ogier was sitting at the lone desk in the research facility, his face bearing an air of concern.

"Is there something wrong with this guy?" Len instinctively looked towards the carnivorous plant in the center of the room.

Ogier tilted his head in confusion. "Nope."

Len turned to Hyacinth, who had conveyed the message. The telepathic signal from the flower seemed puzzled as well.

"Perhaps they misunderstood, but there is indeed a situation here," Ogier said, handing Len the letter in his hand. Ogier's serious expression caused Len's heart to quietly race as he lowered his head to read the contents.

A... complaint letter?

Ah, Lane recalled now. He had been concerned about any unusual situations that might arise from the influx of players into MU, which he might not be able to address promptly. That was why he had placed a suggestion box in the headmaster's office.

Just a moment... So complaints are coming in already?

Lan opened it and couldn’t help but flicker his eyes.

As expected, they were complaint letters from professors. Apparently, during a visit to the laboratory, a player had recklessly tampered with an ancient book suspected to be cursed, and met their demise. This nearly gave the professors a heart attack.

Surprisingly, the companion of that player didn't seem to be worried at all. Instead, he stood there and laughed loudly before carelessly touching the ancient book again, causing a repeat of the incident.

The professor fainted on the spot and was rushed to Arkham Hospital downstairs for a heart problem. When he woke up, he tearfully told the nurse that in his long teaching career, it was the first time he had lost two students under his watch. He felt guilty about being a teacher and wanted to resign, even if it meant becoming a librarian.

Looking at this scene, Lane's blood pressure soared.

Was it only half a day since the opening ceremony? !

"Are there many such complaints?"

Ogier pointed to the waste bin beside them, which already had a thin layer of crumpled papers inside.

Lane took a deep breath to calm his blood pressure, muttering to himself, Forget it, forget it. Shouldn't I know by now what kind of characters these players are? It's impressive that they could hold their true nature for three hours.

I should understand... No way! We need stricter school rules!

"I see. I'll figure something out later," Lane said, rubbing his temples in exhaustion. "If there's nothing else, I'll return to the headmaster's office. I'll leave this place to you."

Ogier nodded, his tall figure and composed expression giving Lane a great sense of security.

With a sense of relief, he added, "If there's any unusual activity with this corpse—Amos, remember to inform me. Under no circumstances should you let him leave this laboratory."

Ogar nodded, and Len felt at ease. He took one last glance at the Venus flytrap, confirming that there were truly no movements within, before turning to leave.

Suddenly, a fleshy tendril composed of buds stealthily extended from the gap between the Venus flytrap's teeth, attempting to grab onto the corner of Len's cloak.

Snap!

Len spun around, only to see Ogar standing behind him, clutching a sticky object in his large hand.

"What's this?"

Without much thought, Ogar stuffed the blob of buds back into the Venus flytrap's mouth. "Nothing, just trash."

Len: "… I'm not blind yet."

This was clearly Amos.

In Len's sight, Ogar reluctantly but slowly pried open the Venus flytrap's jaws and retrieved the cluster of buds.

Lane observed that the mangled mass, no longer resembling a human form, bore signs of having been struck again. He couldn't help but look at Ogler, who returned his gaze with an innocent expression.

Lane: "What did he say to you when he regained consciousness?"

"Nothing much," Ogler equivocated.

Alright, if he didn't want to share, Lane wasn't going to push it. Anyway, based on past experience, whatever came out of Amos's mouth wouldn't be pleasant. Lane was somewhat surprised that Ogler hadn't shown any particular emotional fluctuations lately, as if nothing bothered him. Even his previous interest in painting seemed to have faded, with no recent sightings of him pursuing it.

For Amos to provoke Ogler into action despite his current state, he must possess considerable influence.

After some thought, Lane suggested, "In the future, if he says or does anything, feel free to silence him directly. Just don't fall for his tricks."

Ogler looked at Lane. Lane could have sworn there was a hint of a smile curving his lips, though he might have imagined it. "Mm."

"If possible, make a record of what happens when he recovers. I have this eerie feeling about his abilities; even in this condition, he can still revive."

"Mm."

"And if there's something you can't handle and I'm not in the Divine Realm, you can reach me through the mist," Lane mentioned casually.

This time, however, Augur did not give a straightforward answer but shook his head instead. "I can't pass through the fog."

"Uh?" Len was taken aback. "Why?"

He had initially assumed that since the Bizarre could pass through the fog and he himself could as well, Augur, who also originated from the Dream World, should have no problem with it.

Augur explained, "The fog is one of the sources of corruption. We cannot come into contact with it."

"Sources of corruption?" It was the first time Len had heard of this information, and he stood there, momentarily stunned.

Fog, sources of corruption, the Dream Rift shrouded in fog...

And the bizarre creatures that emerged from the fog.

In an instant, Len felt as though he heard the soft laughter of the Goddess of Inspiration.

He pressed his forehead. "The fog is a source of corruption—what does it corrupt? What happens when one comes into contact with it?"

He didn't need Augur to reply. The words of Edmund and Archie flashed across his mind, reminding him of the mad whispers that grew denser the deeper one ventured into the Dream Rift.

He turned abruptly to the squirming mass of flesh striving to reach him.

"Ogre," he inquired, "if a soul becomes a creature of the Mists after death, what about those still alive?"

For a moment, Ogre didn't respond. He lowered his gaze at the mass, conveying more than words could express.

"…" It was both surprising and unsurprising. Lane had never considered that the Mists he controlled might be the culprit behind human transformations, or one of them.

With a snap of his fingers, he teleported Cree over, though the technique was still in its infancy – Algie, Edmund, and Cree all arrived together.

Cree surveyed the research facility before lazily refocusing on Lane.

"Lord Lane, is there something wrong?" Edmund asked anxiously. Lane's sudden disappearance had startled him, and he feared something major had transpired.

"Nothing," Lane replied, his expression grim as he scanned Algie and Edmund with a heavy gaze. "Did either of you experience any changes in your bodies after passing through the Dream Gap?"

Algie and Edmund were confused, but Cree, seeing the blob now at Lane's feet, suddenly understood. The Sphinx frantically warned Algie through his Dream Gap, but it was too late. Cree stepped forward, pulling a small knife from the pocket of his lab coat and swiftly slicing his own arm without hesitation.

Blood flowed from the wound, but within a few seconds, it rapidly healed.

Edmund: "I possess the ability to self-heal as well. Apparently, after passing the first level of the Dream Gap, everyone's physical attributes, including self-healing, are enhanced. That's according to the information released by the Inspectorate."

Cary scoffed but didn't speak. However, anyone with ears could tell it was mockery. This time, he sliced his arm even more violently, causing blood to spurt from an artery, and a large chunk of skin to be removed.

Archie's expression darkened. It wasn't just because of Cary's reckless actions or Sphinx's frenzied antics in the Dream Gap, calling him a scheming cat. Soon, his face took on a horrified look.

Perhaps due to the widened wound, they could now see clearly. Scales-like substances grew on Cary's arm, covering the injury before swiftly vanishing, along with the wound itself.

"It seems we're gradually straying from the realm of humanity," said Cary, sheathing his knife. The disappointment on his face faded, replaced with excitement. "Very interesting. I never noticed this before. The best research material was right under my nose. Lord Lane, can I have a laboratory?"

Lane nodded and casually sliced off a piece of Amos. "I can also provide you with research materials."

The blob of flesh clung to Lane's blade, surprisingly still conscious despite its state.

Leaving the issue of the mutation to Cary for the time being, Lane knew this was essentially Cary's initiation into their group. Cary promised to give Lane a clear answer, pounding his chest in assurance. Lane remained nonchalant, planning to have Edmund and Archie keep an eye on Cary.

Putting the strange occurrences aside, Lane returned to pondering his own matters. If the mist was the source of contamination, why could he move freely within it and even control it to some extent?

Lane glanced at Ogler, noticing that Ogler was also looking at him.

It seemed that no matter how Lane turned around, Ogar's presence would always loom behind him.

He pressed his lips together, understanding that Ogar's inability to speak openly was due to the connection with Lane's origins. He decided to forgo seeking information directly from Ogar and instead chose to explore on his own.

After many days, Lane revisited the Gap of Dreams.

The scenery within remained unchanged. Lane stepped onto the third platform and surveyed his surroundings, which were eerily silent amidst the darkness and mist.

Closing his eyes, Lane attempted to organize the intelligence he had gathered so far.

His Gap of Dreams was different from that of ordinary humans. While theirs descended, his ascended. This led him to ponder if the descent for normal people was a manifestation of diving deeper into their subconscious?

For him, it was an ascent, the complete opposite of what was typical, and with each upward step, his abilities unlocked incrementally. This reminded Lane of Ogar's previous statement – the more believers a deity in the Dream World had, the more power they could exert in reality.

Human faith acted as an anchor for the gods, securing their presence in the real world. Without sufficient anchors, they would sink back into dreams.

What role did the mist play in this process?

Was it a barrier?

Lain pondered deeply. Due to the fog, ordinary humans who ventured too deep into the Gap of Dreams would be plagued by madness, gradually losing their minds and becoming monstrous beings trapped within the fog.

That was also why these creatures lingered in the fog and could traverse it...

Suddenly, Lain looked towards the fog, an idea flashing through his mind.

If – if the Gaps between people's dreams weren't isolated islands, but separated by the fog, then could one reach any person's dream by passing through it?

Out of curiosity, Lain began to experiment further, stepping back into the fog.

Within the mist, Lain didn't hear any whispers of madness. If not for Oggle and Edmund's words, he might have even considered it to be a fog with unique properties.

The vague outlines of creatures wandered about, but they no longer inspired fear in Lain. He removed the white cloth covering his face, and as he walked, the spirits retreated before him.

Lain had no particular destination in mind; he simply chose a random direction.

Pop~

Just like his first visit to Arkham Hospital, after the gentle sound of a bubble popping, Lain found himself in another dreamland.

Indeed, a dream — likely because its owner was an ordinary person, Lane found himself not in his own Dream Rift but within a regular dream, or rather, the subconscious, the mental realm.

Here, the mist was dense, as if seen through the eyes of someone with severe nearsightedness, filled with blurry patches. Everything was indistinct. Storms and lightning dominated this world, seemingly symbolizing the torment within the dream owner's heart.

In this subconscious, the most striking scene was a black funeral. A pale face in the coffin was vividly clear, while beside it, the dream's owner, a slender young man, lay weeping in despair.

Lane's thoughts stirred, and he gleaned detailed information from the fragments of this subconscious.

The young man was an unremarkable inhabitant of Arkham, also one of the many victims of the calamity.

Sighing, Lane left this dream.

He continued wandering through the fog, entering another subconscious. The atmosphere here was vastly different. A colossal half-man, half-goat deity and a monster covered in tentacles traversed the clouds and mist. Their every battle caused the earth to tremble below, filling the humans, like ants, with dread. For these giants, any casual movement could trigger a disaster that would wipe out humanity.

This was the fear of another, who, upon witnessing the existence of anomalies and deities, had been plunged into immense terror. It was akin to ants suddenly realizing they lived in the shadow of giants.

Countless subconsciouses, those dream bubbles, shared a common theme: gray.

Not black, not white, but gray permeated the hearts of the people of Arkham. Some grieved in despair after losing their families, others lived in constant fear due to shattered worldviews. The wicked feared divine retribution, while the virtuous hoped for redemption.

Certainly, many placed their faith in deities for solace in their hearts.

As Lane delved into their subconscious, he also plumbed the depths of their souls, where pain, despair, hopelessness, and exhaustion washed over his own spirit.

But Lane didn't shy away. He believed that since Arkham had become his divine realm, it meant embracing both the city's light and its shadows.

This was the innermost sanctum of dreams, the collective unconscious of the entire city of Arkham.

On the surface, the city thrived, but secretly, many could only lick their wounds in the dead of night and within their dreams, as they had to hustle for their families and the struggle of survival the next day.

Experiencing the negative emotions of the Arkhamites stirred compassion within him.

He decided to test the extent of this power.

While in Albert's dream, Lane had discovered his ability to control both dreams and the mist to some degree; it seemed that the dreams would respond to his needs whenever he called upon them.

And this time was no different.

Beside the black coffin, a vibrant flower blossomed. The young man in the dream lifted his head in disbelief, noticing the pale face within the coffin regain its rosy hue, now serene as if the person were merely sleeping.

Divine beings and fiends that had shaken the heavens and earth vanished in an instant, and the people on the ground ceased their trembling. They lifted their heads to see the sun piercing through the dark clouds, as if heralding the arrival of light.

Those who couldn't accept the existence of gods and monsters gradually forgot. The wicked were punished as retribution finally descended, while hypocrites found redemption... even if it was just a beautiful dream.

Yes, a beautiful dream – a gift that Lane had bestowed upon all of Arkham.

Even if he could only bring them temporary relief for a single night, at least tonight, they could sleep soundly and continue to greet the rising sun the next day.

As Lane manipulated the power of dreams, a faint mist also began to spread in the corners of the city. It seemed subtle and harmless, enveloping the people of Arkham in a blissful, peaceful slumber.

...

Night fell.

In the stillness of the hour, various vehicles rolled down the roads in different parts of the city, carrying individuals with differing purposes into Arkham.

"Are we almost there?" someone asked softly from within a jeep.

"Very soon," replied the man in the passenger seat, driving at the same time. "I can see the sign. We're already within the boundaries of Arkham."

"I've heard this city is peculiar," the crew-cut man said. "From inside the Church, it seems this place has been hit by two bizarre invasions."

"So you're scared?" the woman with a scar above her brow asked.

"Hah, scared?" The crew-cut man sneered. "I was raised on fear. Do you know where I'm from? Galu Heights, where the villages are swarming with Chimera cultists. When I was ten, they threw me into a pack of beasts – that was hell."

The woman with the scar replied, "Well, not quite."

"What?" The crew-cut man was taken aback. His menacing expression almost wavered. Whenever he shared this story in the past, people around him would show reverence. This was the first time someone had casually mentioned that his experience fell short of hell.

"The man on the passenger seat calmly explained, "She's from New Port before she joined the Church. I think that's what she means – your experience was still a bit off from hell."

The van fell silent. The crew-cut man shifted his bottom quietly, putting some distance between himself and the woman with the scar.

It was widely accepted that only madmen and cultists came out of that place. Well, if they were originally part of the Doomsday Cult, then it made sense.

The crew-cut man shifted back and decided to drop the topic. "Are we there yet?"

"We're already inside," came the reply.

Excitement flickered across the buzzcut man's face as he rubbed his hands together eagerly. "I can't wait to make a big splash with my new toy and give this city's weaklings a rude awakening."

"Be careful not to overdo it. You don't want to attract the attention of the Bureau," someone warned.

"Ha, ha! What are they gonna do? They've been quiet since entering the city. They might have already left," the buzzcut man said, pointing a finger. "I'll take out a few, torch a couple, and maybe even torture a couple in celebration of the impending apocalypse. It's a mercy killing for their souls."

His eyes brimmed with raw savagery and malice, and no one around him protested, for they had always behaved this way.

Arriving in a city and causing sensational news was an unspoken rule. Even if they had other tasks in this city, they wouldn't deviate from their modus operandi.

As the wind blew, mist enveloped the vehicle. While they conversed, the car suddenly slammed on the brakes. The buzzcut man, not wearing his seatbelt, was thrown violently to the ground. He erupted in anger. "Do you even know how to drive?!"

The driver didn't respond, his teeth chattering. Suddenly, he made a sharp turn and started driving back the way they came.

The buzzcut man drew his gun, aiming it at the driver's neck. "Turn back. That's an order."

"Sir...," the driver stammered, "Arkham is a city, not a jungle, right?"

"What nonsense are you spouting? You..."

The crew-cut man abruptly fell silent, his gaze shifting to the window. Through the fog, eerie and ominous trees lined the streets, with crimson vines climbing the towering office buildings. Twisted abnormalities intertwined among them, occasionally colliding and devouring one another.

Outside the car window, neon-lit billboards flickered.

'Welcome to Arkham, Haven of Harmony and Bliss.'