[Master of Potions]

Amos opened the bag he had brought with him and took out a stack of photographs. Judging by the texture of the photos and the backgrounds in them, it was evident that they spanned different eras.

Each photograph was taken from a different angle, but they all featured one familiar face.

“Soren Hogg?” Albert’s pupils contracted slightly.

Amos said, “Surprising, isn’t it? Ever since the invention of the camera, people have occasionally captured his presence—wandering among humanity like a ghost, with no known destination.”

Albert lowered his gaze to examine the photos one by one. From black-and-white to color photographs, they depicted the same person, either as a blurry profile or in various angles. Yet one thing remained consistent: the same exhausted, uncanny face, one that seemed caught between youth and old age.

This peculiar aura made him stand out from the crowd, and it seemed to repel those around him. In every photo, he was alone.

“He… isn’t human?” Albert’s voice was dry.

“Who knows?” Amos shrugged. “I know what you want to ask—about his combat strength. Or, to put it plainly, which level of the Dream Rift he resides on. Unfortunately, I don’t know either. But one thing is certain.”

Albert looked up at him.

“He’s incredibly weak right now, extremely weak,” Amos said. “Maybe even if you don’t kill him, he’ll die on his own. Oh, I mean, in a hundred or two hundred years. So cheer up—we might actually have a chance to win.”

Albert stared at him blankly. Is this supposed to be some kind of joke? In a hundred or two hundred years, everyone, whether meant to die or not, would already be dead.

“Don’t look at me like that. I’m being serious. Of course, I wouldn’t stop you from testing his supposed weakness right now. After all, a fox that’s lived a thousand years must have countless tricks up its sleeve.”

“Then tell me—what’s your plan to deal with him?”

Amos’s expression turned enigmatic. “It’s actually quite simple.”

Under Albert’s skeptical gaze, Amos smiled and said, “A beast only lets its guard down in the moment it claims its prey. Especially when its obsession, built over thousands of years, is within reach—on the verge of fulfillment.”

“No matter how vigilant a person usually is, in that moment, they’ll erupt with long-suppressed madness, and their vision will narrow.”

“I can’t wait for that moment,” Albert said calmly. “It could bring unimaginable disaster to Arkham. I must stop his plan before then.”

“Then by all means,” Amos said, spreading his hands. “I won’t stop you. Do whatever you think is best.”

Albert studied Amos’s ever-present smile, unable to fathom what this man was truly thinking.

—-

Ranen returned to his psychotherapy room. It looked almost identical to when he had left it earlier that morning. After all, he hadn’t packed anything up, hoping to avoid drawing attention to his departure. As a result, neither the players nor anyone else had noticed his previous intent to leave.

After sending Ogre away, Ranen stayed alone in the clinic and closed his eyes again, entering the Dream Rift once more. The scene remained unchanged—gray mist that neither comforted nor repelled him.

As soon as he arrived, a warm white light darted eagerly toward him, seemingly wanting to cling to him. Ranen dodged it and made his way up the staircase to the first level of the Dream Rift.

This level looked no different from before. After a long observation, however, Ranen noticed something new: aside from the familiar white light, two additional light points had appeared. 

These two lights were far more ephemeral compared to Edmund’s—they flickered in and out of existence and stayed hidden in the misty corners as if unwilling to approach him after he arrived.

Ranen had a rough idea of what these lights represented. They were likely linked to the faith of his followers. The more devoted someone was to him, the more solid their corresponding light became.

As for this platform on the first level, it had materialized when Edmund began to believe in him. To say the platform’s appearance had nothing to do with the faith of his followers? Ranen didn’t even believe that himself.

But that was all. Ranen was aware of his peculiarities and had long harbored doubts about his identity, but none of it provided him with any direct boost in combat capabilities.

Currently, Ranen’s assets included only a temporary “Clown” state, which could momentarily enhance his physical fitness and combat power. This ability, however, relied on a dice that could only be used once a day—something that might prove useful in a critical moment.

Additionally, he had Edmund, a loyal follower, as well as Archie and Karens, two somewhat less reliable “plastic” believers.

After hesitating for a moment, Ranen acted quickly when the white light moved closer, grabbing it tightly in his hand.

The familiar sensation of being pulled surged through him, and Edmund’s figure reflected before Ranen’s eyes once again. Edmund was currently in an office, listening intently to someone across from him.

“…Even in the Inspection Bureau headquarters, where there are numerous investigators, very few people manage to break through to the first level of the Dream Rift within a year,” said Geffer, looking at Edmund with genuine satisfaction. “I was right about you—you’re a genius, Edmund!”

Edmund lowered his head shyly, his lips curving in a reserved smile. Geffer had once been concerned about Edmund’s introverted and reserved nature, but now he found it gratifying. Few individuals could conquer their inner fears in such a short amount of time. Those who managed to do so were often unique prodigies secretly nurtured within the Bureau.

Edmund achieving this feat within a year not only demonstrated his natural talent but also his unyielding resolve. He wouldn’t be easily swayed or broken.

He was an excellent candidate for becoming a legendary investigator.

“You flatter me, leader.”

“Alright, alright, no need for modesty right now,” Geffer said with a hearty laugh. “Since you’ve passed the first level of the Dream Rift, becoming an official investigator is a given. Time is of the essence, so instead of returning to headquarters for approval, I’ll personally explain the key points you need to keep in mind as a formal investigator.”

Edmund’s heart stirred. “Is the urgency related to an ongoing investigation?”

“Ah…” Realizing he had misspoken, Geffer let out an awkward chuckle and brushed it off. “Something like that. We’ve recently uncovered a few things. Anyway, let’s not get into that now. Just remember, once you become an official investigator, you can’t go around spouting nonsense anymore. Formal investigators set the standard for the team’s progress, and personal panic can sometimes disrupt the entire team’s morale.”

Edmund lowered his gaze. “Understood.”

“Alright, don’t worry too much. I understand that your previous abnormalities are related to your progress in the first level of the Dream Rift. When you return to the team, I’ll explain this to everyone,” Geffer said, patting Edmund on the shoulder in an attempt to comfort him.

“Come on, cheer up, kid. Once you become a formal investigator, your salary will be three times what it was before. Also, internal Bureau resources will be available to you. Right now, you’re on a mission, but once you return to headquarters, you’ll receive formal rewards and related training. Unfortunately, we can’t provide those conditions right now, but feel free to ask me anything you’d like to know.”

Edmund spoke up. “Leader, what is the trial for the second level of the Dream Rift?”

“Ah, I knew you’d ask that,” Geffer shook his head helplessly. “Many people, just like you, after successfully conquering the first level, are eager to know about the trials of the next layer. While I understand your desire for power, I must remind you that the path to gaining power is like walking a tightrope, and at any moment, you could fall into an abyss.”

“You must have heard of the senior investigators in the Bureau who suddenly went mad. In fact, apart from those who went missing during missions, do you know where most investigators lose their sanity?”

“I don’t know.”

“They lose it in their own homes,” Geffer replied. “And the higher the level they’ve conquered in the Dream Rift, the more likely they are to get lost in it. In the end, they spend the rest of their lives in mental institutions.”

“But didn’t you say that the earlier levels were safe zones?”

“After you pass the first level, there’s no more safe zone,” Geffer shook his head. “The first trial is about overcoming fear, which is the easiest and the least dangerous to fail. It’s the only trial where failing doesn’t have too severe consequences. But after that, it’s different.”

Geffer, likely having encountered many brilliant talents and eccentrics, knew their pride and stubbornness. He patiently reminded Edmund not to rush into breaking through the later levels:

“From the second level onward, there’s no such thing as a free pass. The second level’s trial is ‘madness,’ and it’s the level where the most investigators are lost. If you don’t snap out of it in time, you’ll be a madman for the rest of your life.”

Madness… Ranen thought of the notes written by Archie’s father and couldn’t help but frown. Is it really possible for someone to pass this level?

“A madman, huh,” Edmund murmured. “You mentioned acting in time… Is there a time limit for this level?”

“There isn’t,” Geffer replied, “but based on the Bureau’s statistics, the shorter the period of madness, the more likely one is to recover.”

“No exceptions?”

“There was one. The only one,” Geffer said, “a senior investigator from the Bureau. He spent thirty years in a mental hospital. Then, at over sixty years old, he suddenly regained his sanity.”

Before Edmund could ask, Geffer continued, “Do you know what his first words were after waking up? He said, ‘This is not my world.’ And the next day, he killed himself with a toothbrush provided by the hospital.”

The two fell silent for a moment before Edmund said, “I understand what you’re saying. Don’t worry. I value my life. I won’t attempt the second level unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

“That’s good to hear.” Geffer, reassured by Edmund’s response and his apparent willingness to listen, relaxed slightly. He couldn’t resist adding a bit of encouragement. “When you return to headquarters for your report and officially become an investigator, if you achieve any major accomplishments, you’ll qualify to receive a miracle item. Keep up the good work.”

“A miracle item…” Edmund repeated softly, thinking of his necklace. “Are you referring to items with extraordinary effects?”

“Yes, miracle items generally originate from the Dream World. However, in recent years, they’ve become increasingly scarce. They’re one of the few types of items with minimal side effects after use,” Geffer explained. “You’ve probably heard about this during your onboarding training. Besides miracle items, there are also pollutants and sealables. Pollutants are objects tainted by the power of eldritch beings—if you find one, it must be handed in. Sealables are even more dangerous; they may even possess rudimentary intelligence.”

Miracle items, huh? As Ranen listened, he wondered if his dice could be classified as one.

“Of course, you don’t need to worry too much about the latter two categories. We rarely encounter them.” After giving a few more precautionary instructions, Geffer finally left, reassured.

The room returned to silence, and Edmund softly called out in his mind:

“My Lord, are you watching me?”

Ranen, who had been quietly observing the situation, was startled. He responded, “Edmund?”

“When did you realize I was here?”  

“Just now,” Edmund replied, unable to suppress the joy tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I felt a gaze upon me. It’s my greatest honor to be watched by you.”

“I’ve succeeded in becoming an official investigator,” Edmund continued earnestly. “Once this assignment ends, I’ll return to the Bureau and gather more intelligence.” He didn’t forget the mission Ranen had entrusted to him. “I’ll aim to conquer the second level of the Dream Rift as soon as possible. If I return with greater abilities, I’ll have access to even more confidential information.”

Ranen paused, taken aback. Hasn’t his captain just warned him about this?

“I want to be of more use.” Edmund pressed his lips together.

‘So please, watch me more. Only me.’

He didn’t say the last part aloud, but Ranen could hear it.

This was the deepest voice in Edmund’s heart, his most profound desire.

Ranen remained silent for a while. “Aren’t you afraid of becoming a madman too?”

“I’m not afraid,” Edmund said. “I’ll surely awaken from madness, as long as you still need me.”

This unfiltered sincerity left Ranen momentarily speechless. He had come this time with a faint intention of informing the Bureau about the Outsider. However, recalling Archie’s father’s notes and the potential issues within the Bureau, he decided against it.

“Edmund, in the coming days, I need you to pay close attention to anything related to ‘Outsider,’” Ranen said.

“Outsider? I see. Has this organization been troubling you?” Edmund asked. Then, unexpectedly, a dangerous smile appeared on his face, one that didn’t seem to match his usual demeanor. “I’ll use the Bureau’s resources to eradicate this organization.”

Ranen quickly interjected, “No, don’t inform the Bureau for now.”

Edmund froze for a moment. “Why not?”

He had assumed Ranen valued his position within the Bureau, which was why he’d entrusted him with this task.

“The Bureau… may not be as simple as we think,” Ranen said, his tone layered with meaning. “I only need you to keep an eye on things for now. Be cautious and hide yourself, Edmund.”

“Understood,” Edmund replied.  

Ranen’s concern brought a surge of joy to Edmund’s heart, but it also made him ponder the implications of what had been revealed.  

‘Could there be Outsider spies within the Bureau?’

‘As expected of my lord’, he thought. ‘Even intelligence of this caliber is within his grasp.’  

This realization filled Edmund with both pride and a twinge of inadequacy. He had originally believed that his position as an undercover agent in the Bureau would make him invaluable to his lord, but it seemed Ranen was more familiar with the Bureau’s workings than he was.  

Clearly, he needed to climb higher within the Bureau’s ranks to be of greater use.

After hearing some of the Bureau’s secrets and being warned to conceal his identity, Ranen withdrew his focus, mulling over his next steps.

‘Tsk. Most tabletop campaigns are about information warfare. If only I could remember more details about this major event.’

Ranen regretted not paying more attention to the incident back then. If he had more intel, he might have been able to sabotage the Outsider’s leader’s plans before they even began.

‘Should I just assign quests to the players? Launch a citywide search for unusual clues?’

That didn’t seem feasible. With a larger player base, this approach might work, but there were only five hundred players at the moment.

The second closed beta test would only expand player slots a week after the Arkham incident concluded.  

Ranen opened the player forum, intending to check if any players had uncovered information about the Outsider.  

The forum was as lively as ever today. Thanks to Black Cat’s earlier post, many players were fired up, scouring everywhere for clues about the Outsider, all hoping to be the lucky one to receive a quest first.  

Of course, a good number had chosen to camp outside Ranen’s clinic, waiting for a “heaven-sent” quest.  

Ranen searched the forum using keywords. While most players were enthusiastic—some even seasoned tabletop veterans skilled in investigations—very few had actually unearthed any leads.  

The Outsider’s members were like ghosts haunting the city, elusive and intangible.  

Even if Ranen were to assign them quests directly, the results likely wouldn’t be much better than the current situation.  

Annoyed, Ranen scrolled through the posts. Soon, he came across the most popular thread aside from those about the main storyline:  

[Potion merchant raised prices again orz. Seriously, you guys buy way too fast!]

[1st Reply: Well, the main storyline is about to start. Everyone’s stockpiling potions (grins).  ]

[2nd Reply: But why is the potion merchant hiking prices… Did they notice how hyped players are lately?]  

[3rd Reply: This game has this one flaw: merchants raising prices arbitrarily feels too realistic (sigh). ]

[4th Reply:You can always get supplies from Ye Ye and their crew! They’ve always had the lowest prices among players qwq.]

[5th Reply: Stop, now I’m jealous again.]  

Potion merchant?  

Ranen paused, remembering the Kamui tribesman he had visited last time.  

It had been so long since he last went there that he’d almost forgotten about it. Now, with the mention of the merchant, an image surfaced in his mind—those eyes, burning with intensity.

At the time, Ranen hadn’t fully understood the emotions conveyed in that man’s gaze. But now, with Edmund as his follower, he seemed to grasp something.  

Still, there was something odd. In the Dream Rift, there was only one white light and two faintly visible ones. No matter how he calculated, it didn’t seem to include this person.  

Ranen decided to investigate.  

Avoiding the players’ watchful eyes, he donned a mask for disguise, hailed a taxi, and navigated back to the neighborhood where the Kamui tribesman had previously brought him. As soon as he stepped in, he couldn’t help but frown.  

He had arrived late. The streets, already illuminated elsewhere, suddenly dimmed here. Many windows were dark, and the surroundings were eerily quiet. It was obvious that the population had dwindled significantly. The few passersby weren’t Kamui people either but seemed more like homeless wanderers from the outskirts.  

Worried something might have gone wrong, Ranen quickened his pace. Before long, he spotted a dimly lit, old two-story building at a corner.  

The family seemed to have anticipated his arrival. They were already waiting outside. A man in a wheelchair sat in the center, surrounded by three siblings and a woman. Compared to the emaciated figure Ranen had seen last time, the man now looked much healthier. His face had regained fullness, and his distinct features carried an exotic charm.  

As Ranen and Ogre approached, the man excitedly wheeled himself forward. “Finally, I meet you, O Reverser of Fate—Lord Larras.”  

“Larras?” Ranen blinked, momentarily confused.  

“Larras is a deity from our Kamui mythology,” the woman behind him explained awkwardly. “It symbolizes beauty, miracles, and the gifts of fate.” The three siblings looked equally embarrassed, assuming their uncle was once again flattering someone attractive out of habit. “Uncle, his name is Ranen. Dr. Ranen, this is my father, Carmen Kamui. It seems we didn’t have the chance to introduce you last time.”  

“No, he is Larras,” the man insisted. “Only he can save this city from its destined destruction.”  

Ranen stared at him in shock. “You…”  

The man smiled faintly. “Please follow me, Lord Larras. I’ve been waiting for you for a long time.”  

Carmen requested to speak with Ranen alone, so they headed to the second-floor bedroom. It was the same room Ranen had visited before, filled with specimens and herbs. The layout hadn’t changed significantly, except for the addition of several clay jars in the center of the room. The rich aroma of various herbs permeated the space.  

After Ranen closed the door and turned around, he was startled to see Carmen struggling to stand from his wheelchair, only to kneel on the ground.  

“What are you doing?”  

“My lord, please forgive my impertinence earlier at the door,” Carmen said. “I sensed that you wouldn’t want your identity exposed, so I greeted you in a normal manner.”  

‘That was normal? And what’s with this ‘my lord’ nonsense?’

Ranen remained silent for a moment, unsure where to even start addressing this situation.  

Finally, he sighed softly. Recalling some of the screenshots circulating on the player forums, he adjusted his expression slightly. His gaze became calm and indifferent, and he let out a low chuckle, his voice steady and deep: “You handled it well.”  

Carmen’s expression visibly grew more fervent. “It is my duty. You saved my life and soul. From this day forward, your honor is my honor. I vow to dedicate myself entirely to easing your burdens.”  

“Oh? Easing my burdens?” Ranen leaned back in the chair, adopting a relaxed posture as he raised his chin slightly. “And what exactly can you do for me?”  

Hearing the clear undertone of assessment in Ranen’s question, Carmen calmed himself slightly. After some thought, he admitted with a hint of frustration, “My skills are limited. I imagine I could only assist you with potion-making.”  

‘Only potion-making? What about divination?’

Recalling Carmen’s earlier comment at the door, Ranen asked curiously, “I’ve heard that Kamui tribespeople excel in both divination and potion-making. Is that true?”  

“Yes, I can perform some divination as well, but…” Carmen glanced at Ranen cautiously. “Whenever it involves you, the constellations are shrouded in mist, obscuring them from view. For example, I previously divined that Arkham was on the brink of a catastrophe. However, recently, the signs of destruction have begun to shift. The previously fixed fate has become uncertain once more, so I dared to speculate that it might be related to you.”  

“My abilities are limited, though, and I can no longer see the future clearly through further divination.”  

“As for earlier…” Carmen scratched his cheek sheepishly. “Since I regained the ability to get out of bed, I’ve been waiting outside every day for you. My family occasionally joined me. I’ve waited for so long that I thought you might have forgotten about me.”  

“But luckily, you’ve finally arrived. I knew it! There’s no way you’d forget your loyal follower!”  

Ranen, who had indeed forgotten: …  

Ranen coughed a few times to cover up the awkwardness and quickly changed the subject. “Well then, let me see the potions you’ve made.”  

“Of course!”  

Carmen eagerly brought out nearly every potion he had.  

Ranen stood frozen as he gazed at the array of vividly colored bottles filling the room.  

“My deepest apologies, my lord,” Carmen said with a face full of guilt. “I’m not skilled in combat, and with the sky veiled by your great power, the stars have become impossible to read. I thought long and hard about how I could be of help to you, and all I could come up with were these. They’re far from enough…”  

Ranen wasn’t even listening to him anymore. His fingers, hidden behind his back, were trembling.  

B-grade healing potion, B-grade mana potion, C-grade purification potion, A-grade anti-magic potion…

The shelves were lined with nothing but mid- to high-grade potions. It was ridiculous. In his past life, Ranen hadn’t even seen this many high-grade potions combined.  

Thinking back, when he first saw this family living in such a rundown neighborhood, he assumed they were struggling to make ends meet. But now, looking at these potions—and recalling how high-grade potions were priced in the player markets of his past life—  

All right, he had been completely wrong. These weren’t just hidden wealthy people. The word “wealthy” didn’t even begin to capture it. A potion master NPC capable of producing high-grade potions had been the kind of figure that players in his past life practically worshipped.

Simply saving Carmen’s life had earned him the loyalty of a master potion maker. Ranen felt like he’d just hit the jackpot.  

Taking a deep breath, he didn’t hold back and started carefully picking through the potions. The variety of high-grade potions made his mouth water. Eventually, his gaze landed on a potion emitting a faint blue glow, and he paused.  

Carmen followed his line of sight and noticed that the potion Ranen was staring at wasn’t one of the high-grade ones. On the contrary, it was just a C-grade Memory Potion.  

Ranen reached out and tightly grasped the potion. His eyes sparkled with interest, and his heartbeat quickened uncontrollably.  

“If I’m not mistaken, this potion allows one to recall deeply buried memories, right?”  

“Yes.” Although puzzled, Carmen immediately confirmed it.  

Ranen thought to himself, ‘I knew it! I’ve struck gold!’

Before Carmen could react, Ranen tilted his head back and downed the potion in one gulp.  

“My lord?!”  

Ranen closed his eyes, focusing on the effects of the potion. ‘Hmm, at least one thing is certain—the potion works on me.’

The bubbles of memory began to stir within him, quietly spreading. Scenes of his time on Earth resurfaced in his mind.  

But that was all. Just as he recalled a childhood memory of wetting the bed after a nightmare, the potion’s effects abruptly faded, and his consciousness was pulled back into reality.  

Ranen: …  

“My lord?” Carmen stood anxiously to the side, torn between curiosity about the potion’s effects and worry for Ranen. After all, he’d never imagined his handcrafted potion would one day be consumed by a deity.  

“Don’t worry.” Ranen gauged the duration of the potion’s effects—probably no more than two seconds. “Ordinarily, how long would this potion last for a regular person?”  

Carmen thought for a moment before replying, “If it’s an ordinary Memory Potion, the effects usually last about an hour. But since I made this one myself, it could last up to three hours for a normal person.”  

‘Three seconds,’ Ranen thought. ‘That’s all I’ve got.’  

The good news? He probably wouldn’t need to worry about anyone poisoning his potions in the future.  

The bad news…  

Carmen glanced at the empty bottle in Ranen’s hand and hesitantly asked, “Would you like more of this potion?”  

Ranen smiled and nodded. “If it’s not too much trouble.”  

“No, no!” Carmen’s cheeks flushed with excitement. “It’s an honor to be of service to you!”  

With newfound energy, Carmen began brewing more potions, putting his utmost care and effort into the process.  

As time passed, Ranen sat comfortably on the sofa, watching Carmen work. Carmen, feeling the intense (divine?) gaze upon him, threw himself into his task with fervor, as though supercharged by the attention.  

In reality, Ranen was scrolling through the player forums, amusing himself.  

By the time he snapped out of his distraction, Carmen was nearly collapsed from exhaustion, and the first light of dawn had begun streaming through the windows.  

Overnight, bottles of shimmering sapphire-blue potion had filled the room.  

“My lord, I’ve completed the task,” Carmen said, his voice hoarse but full of pride.  

“Good work.” Ranen didn’t hold back his appreciation, offering Carmen a warm smile. “Rest now—you deserve it.”  

Caught in the spell of Ranen’s inhumanly alluring smile, Carmen’s consciousness drifted as he eased himself back into his wheelchair and slipped into a deep sleep.  

Ranen approached the bottles of potion, picking them up one by one and drinking them down.  

The effects soon began to take hold, and his vision blurred as lights and shadows danced before his eyes. Sitting on the sofa, Ranen let his consciousness sink deep into the sea of memories.  

Countless fragments of memory floated like bubbles before him, some brushing past, others colliding directly into him.  

From the carefree days of youth on the university campus to the cautious steps of entering the workforce, Ranen relived it all—the excitement of being mentored by a senior, the thrill of gaining recognition, and the endless dreams for the future.  

There were also moments of difficulty: dealing with customer complaints and enduring periods of self-doubt, feeling like he had achieved nothing.  

Ranen had thought he’d forgotten these memories, but when he saw the warm glow of his home’s lights at night, ran into old friends on the street, or passed by his alma mater, his eyes unknowingly filled with tears.  

It struck him like a revelation—he already possessed immense wealth. Not in the form of his current power, the admiration of players, or the reverence of NPCs.  

It was in the simple, beautiful days of the past.  

Those days had shaped him into who he was, and for that reason, he could not let those who sought to destroy such beauty go unpunished.  

Ranen pressed forward, his memories advancing to the time he had made a name for himself in the field of psychological counseling. With more free time on his hands, he had started playing the popular game Wheel of Fate.  

As the torrent of memories surged, Ranen recalled more details of the game’s mission storylines. Finally, a key memory surfaced—the clue to the Day of Arkham’s Destruction.  

In his previous life, this main storyline quest had been triggered by Druid.  

Druid, after exploring the hospital dungeon, uncovered the conspiracy behind this special instance.  

There had even been a screenshot circulating on the forums: in the image, Arkham’s sky reflected another world. A massive magic circle rose from the center of the city, responding to beams of light erupting from the outskirts. From within the ritual, a colossal, one-eyed “gate” emerged…  

That was the last trace of Arkham’s existence.  

Fragments of information from the player forums, live streams, discussions, and incomplete records flooded Ranen’s mind.  

Mission details, intelligence, the purpose of the magic circle—piece by piece, everything reassembled itself in his memory.  

Then, just as quickly, this bubble of recollection burst. Ranen had a faint sense that the potion’s effects were nearing their end, so he decided to fast-forward through the remaining fragments.  

The later parts of the game’s storyline and his real-life work quickly flashed by. Before long, the memory reached his death in his previous life.  

It had been due to an accident—an office building downstairs caught fire. He had given up his chance to escape to save a young girl. Shortly after, a secondary explosion claimed his life at the scene.  

There wasn’t much more to see after that. The following events were what he had already experienced. Ranen was about to pull himself out of the memory, but his motion suddenly halted.  

The recollection wasn’t over.  

A faint golden light emerged from the body of his past self. It was then drawn upward by an unseen force, slowly ascending into the air.  

For a time, his perspective was engulfed in darkness. When it brightened again, a bizarre and fantastical world unfolded before his eyes.  

Where was this? Had he been here before?  

Before Ranen could take a closer look, a sudden pulling sensation surged through his body, abruptly ending the memory.  

He sat up, finding himself back in reality, and couldn’t help rubbing his forehead.  

He was back.  

The memory potion had worked, but he couldn’t shake off the nagging curiosity about that final scene. It felt as though the memory hadn’t concluded, yet he had no recollection of it at all. Wasn’t he supposed to have reincarnated directly into his current body after dying?  

Ranen massaged his temples and decided not to dwell on it for now. The immediate crisis took priority. Fortunately, he now had a clearer idea of what needed to be done.  

In his previous life, it was the players who discovered the abnormality in Arkham after clearing the hospital dungeon. This discovery had triggered the Arkham Rescue main quest. Of course, everyone knew that this quest had ultimately ended in failure.  

But now, an idea suddenly surfaced in Ranen’s mind.  

He had already confirmed that he could issue quests. This feature had appeared simultaneously with his access to the player forum. However, the “Main Quest” section had always been grayed out, inaccessible. It seemed to suggest that he couldn’t directly influence the course of the game.  

Or perhaps he simply didn’t have the necessary permissions.  

Ranen recalled how he had first gained access to the player forum—by picking up a small white orb dropped by a player after their death.  

Unfortunately, no similar orbs had appeared since then, no matter how many players perished. At the moment, his only means of interfering with the game was to observe the player forum and assign minor tasks to players.  

He wondered: if he directly pointed out the existence of a crisis from the start, could he trigger the main quest earlier? After all, the last Bonus Pool quest had originally not been triggered by the Karmi tribe, but when he revealed the existence of the Soul-Eating Butterfly, the Bonus Pool quest still descended.  

If this method worked, it would be a significant boon for his upcoming plans.