[Enchanted Weapon]

[TN: I will change “police director” to “chief,” and Albert will be “captain.”]

After leaving Kamui’s district, Ranen headed straight back to the psychotherapy clinic. Since the players hadn’t entered the game yet, the front of his clinic was unusually quiet.  

With the surrounding streets in a state of disrepair and disorder, the emptiness felt even more pronounced. Many shops remained closed in the aftermath of Arkham’s recent disaster.  

Ranen took one last glance outside before stepping into the clinic and shutting the door behind him.  

The matter with Kamui was settled. Now, only Karens remained.  

This time, however, he didn’t go to Black Poker’s territory. Instead, he used a light point within the Dream Rift to summon Karens.  

Ten minutes later, Karens appeared at the clinic’s entrance.  

“My Lord.”  

Karens strode into the room and knelt on one knee before Ranen. “Thank you very much for saving Arkham.”  

Ranen “…”.  

Honestly, he was getting used to people kneeling at every turn. At least it didn’t catch him off guard as much as it had in the beginning.  

Ranen responded calmly, “I only did what I wanted to do.”  

“Your mercy is worthy of reverence,” Karens lowered his head. “But that does not mean we shouldn’t be grateful. Even if we are nothing more than ants in your eyes, we are still ants who survived under your grace.”  

…Has he always spoken like this?  

Ranen’s grip on his teacup nearly slipped, and he quickly set it down to avoid spilling the tea. Clearing his throat awkwardly, he said, “I got it. You can stand now.”  

Only then did Karens rise to his feet. 

He looked much more disheveled than before, probably from rushing over. His suit was wrinkled, and there were bloodshot veins in the whites of his eyes from exhaustion, yet his gaze was full of spirit.  

“I called you here to officially establish a church,” Ranen said. “The name has already been decided—the Secret Church.”  

“Are you willing to join?”  

Karens’s eyes flickered for a moment before gradually brightening.  

Is this finally an acknowledgment of him?  

If, in the past, Karens had only wanted to join Ranen’s faction out of self-interest and fear, then after the catastrophic event that recently struck Arkham, he was forced to face reality.  

And the reality was—against supernatural-level crises, ordinary humans had no power to resist.  

Those anomalies, transcendents, and fanatical believers didn’t care if they wiped out one or two cities in passing.  

Yet, this city beneath his feet was the only soil where Black Poker and Karens could survive.  

It was the land that held his soul captive.  

Like Edmund and Archie, the moment Karens saw that door—and the existence that closed it—he immediately knew who He was.  

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

Under Ranen’s puzzled gaze, Karens took two steps forward and knelt on one knee once more. He lifted Ranen’s hand and pressed a kiss to his left hand.  

When he looked up, his eyes were filled with pitch-black ambition, like a wolf. “I have waited a long time.”  

Ranen pressed his lips together and withdrew his hand as soon as Karens raised his head. “Very well.”  

“I need Black Poker to issue missions to the believers as well. You can have them carry out tasks, but participation must be voluntary. At the same time, believers will have access to Black Poker’s weaponry and intelligence resources.”  

When dealing with Karens, Ranen adopted a completely different approach from how he treated Carmen. Perhaps, on some level, he recognized that Karens would not be swayed by kindness or gentleness.  

And as it turned out… he was right.  

Faced with Ranen’s cold demeanor, Karens only seemed more excited. He licked the corner of his lips and placed a hand over his chest in acknowledgment. “I shall follow Your will.”  

As Karens left the psychological treatment room, Ranen sat in his office chair, lost in thought. With this, the Secret Church was beginning to take shape.  

The Kamui clan and Black Poker—one was a people deeply connected to the crafting of potions and the mystical arts, while the other was a violent underground force entrenched in Arkham’s depths. Players could take on tasks from the Kamui to gather herbs in exchange for potions and even gain the opportunity to learn skills in herbalism and psychology. From Black Poker, they could accept missions related to investigation and gang activities, earning the chance to develop skills in brawling and shooting.  

This should be enough to keep the players occupied… Yet Ranen had the nagging feeling that something was still missing.  

What is it…?  

As Ranen pondered, a subtle sensation rippled through his mind.  

He heard the sound of prayer—and it seemed to be coming from the Dream Rift?  

Closing his eyes, Ranen entered the Dream Rift. The moment he did, the voice became clearer. A certain white light was flickering urgently, as if afraid it wouldn’t catch Ranen’s attention.  

Ranen approached the light and took the now-docile glow into his palm.  

Instantly, a vision emerged from within—it was Edmund.  

“Edmund?”  

Feeling a familiar, profound gaze fall upon him, Edmund let out a breath of relief. “My Lord, thank goodness. I was worried I wouldn’t be able to reach You.”  

Previously, Ranen could contact his believers through these points of light, but it had always been a one-way connection. As a believer, Edmund could only sense the presence watching over him, yet he had no way to actively communicate with Ranen.  

This had left Edmund deeply anxious—especially now that he had overheard the Investigation Bureau’s agents plotting against Ranen. However, he was still under surveillance, unable—and too afraid—to seek out Ranen or even call him with a warning.

Fortunately, he had tried reciting the prayer that had surfaced in his mind while he was asleep today, and it had successfully connected him to Ranen.  

“This place is…” Ranen realized that Edmund seemed to be in a toilet stall.  

Edmund’s face turned red. He quickly looked down and patted his pants—thankfully, they were still on. Stammering, he said, “S-sorry, qwq My Lord, I’m still under surveillance right now, so this is the only place I could contact You from.”  

“It’s fine,” Ranen replied, not particularly concerned. Compared to that, the information Edmund had just revealed was far more important. “You said you’re being watched? Did your identity get exposed?”  

A trace of worry slipped into Ranen’s tone. Edmund’s lips curled in satisfaction. “Please rest assured, My Lord. My identity as Your believer hasn’t been exposed. The surveillance I’m under is just a standard isolation period that all investigators go through after completing a mission phase.”  

“More importantly, please listen to me,” Edmund said, then proceeded to spill everything about the elite squad from the Investigation Bureau.  

“From the way they spoke, it seems highly likely that all the forces infiltrating Arkham recently are targeting the ‘Gatekeeper.’ You must be careful!” Edmund warned gravely.  

Ranen listened quietly before suddenly asking, “Why do you think I’m the ‘Gatekeeper’?”  

This was something that had been puzzling him. If the players thought so, that was one thing—but why was Edmund so certain? Ranen had seen the PV. At the time, the radiance had completely concealed him, making him appear as nothing more than a humanoid shadow to outsiders.  

Edmund froze for a moment. He was about to answer, “Because my intuition tells me it’s You,” but then the words caught in his throat.  

‘Wait a second. Is My Lord’s question really just as simple as it sounded?’

Edmund pondered. ‘Why would He suddenly ask something so obvious at a time like this? Could it be that… He wasn’t asking but rather reminding me?’  

“…I see,” Edmund suddenly realized. “You’re saying I shouldn’t treat You as the ‘Gatekeeper.’ That makes sense. The elite squads that just arrived are far sharper than my previous team. If I hold onto that mindset, I’ll slip up sooner or later!”  

Ranen: ?

‘Uh, wait. I was literally just asking what you meant.’

Edmund: “I will try my best to separate these thoughts. I can do it—I will do it… I promised them I’d join the investigation team, and I’ll relay information to you at any time from within.”  

Ranen: “Edmund…”  

He was just about to correct Edmund’s thinking when a sudden *knock, knock* came from Edmund’s side.  

Researcher Chris’s voice sounded from outside: “Are you done yet? I didn’t hear the toilet flush—don’t tell me you’re constipated? You should’ve said so earlier! I have medicine for that.”  

“No need!” Edmund shouted, his face turning red as he pressed the flush button.  

Ranen knew their conversation would have to end here, so he regretfully withdrew from the white light spot.  

Returning to the Dream Rift, Ranen silently pondered over the information Edmund had revealed.  

Though he had vaguely sensed it before, hearing it from Edmund still made his heart sink.  

So it had really happened… They had caught the attention of other factions.  

The moment he saw his commanding presence when issuing the “Close the Gate” order appear in the dreams of all Arkham residents and players through the promotional PV, he had a foreboding feeling. And now, it had come true.

—You can’t let those guys find out about you right now.

The memories and Ogre’s words kept emphasizing this point. Ranen took a deep breath. “As expected, the plan still needs further refinement.”  

The conversation with Edmund had put a lot of pressure on Ranen. He had to ensure that he gained the maximum advantage in the upcoming player snatching battle.  

However, up until now, he had done everything he could. What else could attract players…  

Ranen couldn’t think of anything for a while and decided to go back to the apartment for dinner.  

As usual, Ogre was the one cooking. Ranen had tried before, but his cooking was inedible, so he could only help Ogre with minor tasks, like assisting or washing dishes after the meal.  

How could he make his faction stand out with something that others didn’t have? For instance, something that only players who joined the faction could obtain. Potions were one example, but Ranen had already promised Carmen that they could sell potions freely. After all, he had to support a whole tribe, and the number of players might not be enough to sustain this just yet.  

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

With that in mind, what else could their faction produce that would be an irresistible benefit to players?  

At this moment, Ogre silently grasped Ranen’s wrist. Ranen snapped out of his thoughts and realized his hands were covered in green leaves.  

The edible ones were thrown in the trash, and the inedible ones were left in front of him.  

Ranen paused for a moment, then awkwardly said, “Sorry.”  

Ogre shook his head and asked, “Is something wrong? You look troubled.”  

Perhaps because of the long time spent living among humans, Ogre’s speech had become smoother. He rarely had the trouble of struggling for words as he did when he was in the hospital.  

Ranen casually replied, “It’s nothing, just wondering what kind of rewards would be unique enough for the followers.”  

“Unique?”  

“Yeah, something that other factions can’t provide.”  

Since learning that Ogre was no ordinary being, Ranen gave up on hiding things from him. After all, if those memories were real, Ogre should be one of the people who understood him best. Keeping secrets from him seemed pointless.

Ogre thought for a moment upon hearing this and said, “Are you talking about divine gifts?”  

“What?” Ranen blinked in confusion.  

“Humans seem to call them contaminants, sealed objects, or anomalous items,” Ogre explained as he picked up the kitchen knife from the cutting board.  

The ordinary stainless steel knife in his hand began to show dark patterns, and gradually, its shape changed. It transformed from a kitchen knife into the form of a military dagger, with a bloodletting hole appearing in the middle. Ogre placed a piece of beef beneath the dagger, and to Ranen’s astonishment, the dagger seemed to come alive, starting to absorb blood. The red blood flowed from the hole, moving upward, and the blade began to show eye-like patterns.  

Just as Ranen thought the knife was about to come to life, the transformation suddenly stopped. The black markings gradually faded to a pale hue, and with a sharp crack, the knife broke in two.  

Ogre picked up the two halves of the knife and shook his head. “Anomalous items can’t be created in this world.”  

Ranen was stunned. “Wait… You’re saying anomalous items are all made by the gods?”  

“Most of them, yes. There are a few that are naturally formed in dreams,” Ogre replied. “Besides that, contaminants and sealed objects are similar. Contaminants are tainted by evil gods, making them difficult to use. Sealed objects are even rarer; they are items with consciousness. Even in the Dream World, they’re scarce. It seems only a small number of gods have the right to create sealed objects.”  

Wait a minute…  

Ranen suddenly remembered the description of the staff he had recently acquired in the Dream Rift. It seemed like, perhaps, it was about bestowing consciousness onto an object.  

Moreover, he had also successfully given consciousness to Archie’s origin ability. Though it seemed a bit absurd, could a person’s origin ability be granted consciousness too?  

Ranen asked this question, and Ogre answered honestly, “It’s possible, though it’s rare for anyone to do such a thing.”  

“Why?”  

“Because when you grant consciousness, their origin ability starts to develop its own thoughts. If it gets along well with the host, then it’s fine. But if not, it could very well turn against the host.”  

Ogre paused before continuing, “Though some beings like us deliberately do this… After bestowing consciousness onto the origin ability of a believer, they then kill the believer… That’s how sealed objects are born.”  

Ranen’s pupils constricted slightly.

Ogre looked at Ranen and said, “Things born from living beings have far more potential to become sealed objects than those born from inanimate things. Since they’re already alive, some gods have discovered that sealed objects made from fanatical believers are more convenient to use.”  

Ranen fell silent, briefly skipping over this topic.  

“If it’s not possible to create anomalous items in reality, then it seems to have little meaning,” Ranen sighed.  

“Well, anomalous items can’t really be mass-produced,” Ogre scratched his head. “Usually, only the most core believers are qualified to have them, but you can use substitutes.”  

Ogre then drew out a kitchen knife again—this was the last one. He looked at the vegetables on the cutting board and silently put the knife down, instead taking out a soup spoon.  

Ranen stifled a laugh as he watched Ogre’s performance. This time, the black markings covered the soup spoon, but unlike before, the black lines quickly faded, leaving only faint traces. Then Ogre handed the spoon to Ranen.  

Ranen took it in confusion but didn’t notice anything unusual. Before he could ask, Ogre gestured for him to tap it.  

Ranen tentatively tapped it against the cutting board, and instantly a small dent appeared on the wooden surface. But Ranen had barely used any force at all!  

So, the change must have come from the soup spoon. Ogre then explained, “The weight of the soup spoon has increased, but when you hold it, it still feels the same as before.”

Ranen immediately understood: “So it’s like enchantment in a game?”  

“Enchantment?” Ogre tilted his head in confusion.  

“Ahem, it’s when you add various magical effects to an item, like anti-magic or increased damage to dark creatures,” Ranen almost forgot that Ogre didn’t play human games.  

“That sounds about right,” Ogre said. “This is like a semi-finished anomalous item. It’s not as strong as a full anomalous item, but it’s still usable and doesn’t take much effort.”  

The key part was probably the latter statement. Ranen touched his chin, his eyes filled with hesitation. “It would be great if it’s usable, but I can’t keep bothering you.”  

“You can do it too,” Ogre said. Before Ranen could react, he took the soup spoon, looked around, and pulled out a spatula from somewhere. He handed it to Ranen. Ranen took it, confused. “I can? I don’t even know how.”  

Before Ranen could speak, he froze, because Ogre had stepped behind him and, almost in an embrace, gently held his wrist from behind.  

Ogre was so large, like a bear, wrapping him up completely in his embrace. The strange thing was, Ranen didn’t seem to notice at all. Ogre held his wrist and said, “…You can feel it.”  

Feel what?  

A warm voice echoed from above his head, and Ranen’s ears turned red from embarrassment. But the next moment, he snapped back to reality and focused on the area around his wrist.  

He could feel a strange surge of energy coming from where Ogre’s hand was connected to his wrist.  

It was like a breeze was gently pushing him from behind, urging him to do something. Ranen, feeling this, felt a dormant power inside him awaken. Green and silver patterns gradually covered the spatula.  

When Ranen snapped out of it, the magical feeling was gone. Instead, in front of him was the spatula, now shining with an extraordinary glow.  

Ranen fell silent and asked, “Is this it?”  

“Mm,” Ogre nodded. “Different patterns bring different effects, and they’re also tied to our powers. For example, even if you and I carve the same magical rune, the effect will be different because our powers are different.”  

Ranen realized that this was the “uniqueness” that he and Ogre had discussed earlier.  

If that’s the case, then only his faction could produce these special enchanted weapons.  

But even without this uniqueness, Ranen was still excited. After all, this was an enchanted weapon!  

Enchanted weapons were the kind of equipment that appeared only in the later stages of a game! Early players would never get to touch such advanced weapons! And since enchanters were so rare, enchanted weapons were incredibly expensive and mostly became the toys of wealthy players.

Pulling out an enchanted weapon at this moment was practically a game-breaking move!  

Ranen immediately grew excited. With such a powerful trump card in hand, how could players not obediently jump into his camp?  

“Ogre!” Ranen turned around in excitement and threw himself into a tight hug around the big guy.  

“You’re my lucky star!”  

Ogre’s body froze instantly, and he somewhat awkwardly raised his hands, wanting to embrace but not quite daring to. Before he could make up his mind, Ranen, already blushing furiously, let go of him and said, “Alright, I’ll first test what effect this spatula has been imbued with.”

Why is Ogre’s heartbeat so fast? It is making him feel a little uneasy.  

Ogre stared at the back of Ranen’s head with a disappointed look, but Ranen didn’t turn around. Instead, he focused on the spatula, and a line of information automatically surfaced in his mind.  

[Vitality · Healing]

Two effects? Ranen twitched at the corners of his mouth. “Vitality? Healing? How exactly is a spatula supposed to heal?”  

Is he supposed to whack injured people with it??  

Just then, Ogre took the spatula and, under Ranen’s stunned gaze, tapped it against a fish in the water basin.  

“…Wait, the ability of this spatula is—”  

Before Ranen could finish his sentence, the half-dead fish suddenly flipped over in an explosive burst of energy, leaping straight out of the water. Then, with a powerful flick of its tail, it slapped Ogre squarely in the face!  

Look! This was the fish’s revenge!  

Ranen’s expression twisted instantly. He tried to hold it in, but in the end, he burst out laughing.  

Ogre wiped the water off his face and gave Ranen a helpless look.  

“Sorry—hahahahahaha—this is just too funny,” Ranen clutched his stomach, laughing until it hurt. Ogre, still expressionless, simply reached out and patted Ranen’s back.  

“Haha… ah.” Ranen finally calmed down, feeling a little guilty. After all, Ogre had only been trying to help him test the spatula’s abilities. No one could have predicted this result.  

On the bright side, at least their household would never have to worry about fresh ingredients again.  

Ranen rubbed his nose and decided not to tease Ogre any further. Instead, he said, “Thanks, Ogre. With this, my problem is pretty much solved.”  

Ogre asked, “You mean recruiting followers?”  

“Yeah, something like that. I’ve officially established a church—the Secret Church.” Ranen’s expression turned serious. “The sole purpose of this church is to preserve my relationship with the ‘Gatekeeper.’ For that, I need to gather more believers.”  

Hearing this, Ogre lowered his eyes in thought, then said, “If that’s the case, half-finished curious items might not be enough.”  

“Hm? They’re already more than enough for them.”  

“Truly devout followers aren’t drawn by profit,” Ogre said, looking straight at Ranen. “They’re only drawn by… their faith itself.”  

Ranen was momentarily stunned before letting out a helpless chuckle. “I think this level of incentive is already enough to keep them loyal to the Secret Church.”  

At least, unless a greater benefit appeared, betraying the Secret Church wouldn’t bring any real advantage to the players.  

Besides, he never expected to earn the players’ faith in the first place. The Fourth Calamity—what faith could they possibly have? If they didn’t betray him, that alone was already worth celebrating.  

“Ranen, you have too little confidence,” Ogre frowned slightly. “You deserve more devoted followers… If this were the Dream World, you could manifest even greater miracles.”

“Like the legend of Moses parting the sea?” Ranen chuckled. “Revealing miracles was indeed the best way to attract believers in ancient times.”

But that was impossible with the Fourth Calamity. They had seen everything—how could they be impressed by mere miracles…?

…Wait.

Ranen suddenly realized what he had overlooked. Players might not be fooled by divine miracles.

But that didn’t mean they didn’t love CG cutscenes and grand spectacles!

Thinking carefully, wasn’t it the hospital CG that had first made Ranen go viral? Just like the players had jokingly discussed on the forums before—at this point, the popularity of “Ranen” as an NPC was almost on par with the entire game itself!

Why had he ignored this? Players did chase power and gear, but even more than that, they sought the freedom to ‘do as they please.’

A single viral image could draw in casual onlookers, and when those onlookers jumped into the game, would they care about in-game equipment or faction missions? No! They only cared about what had drawn them in in the first place!

Ranen suddenly had an epiphany. “Thank you, Ogre! I almost forgot the most important thing!”

He—that NPC, Ranen—hadn’t been doing his job properly for ages!

“No need to thank me,” Ogre said. “But we might have to eat out tonight.”

Ranen looked at the chaotic mess that was once their kitchen, then at the lonely, scattered kitchen utensils, and said cheerfully, “No problem, dinner’s on me.”

After their meal, Ranen dove back into deep thought.

Tomorrow, the players would arrive. Thanks to Ogre, he had finally found the last missing piece to attract them. But at the same time, Ogre had also presented him with a new problem.

How was he supposed to create a CG-level grand spectacle that would lure the players in!?

Ranen tossed and turned on his bed for a while but couldn’t come up with an answer. He closed his eyes and entered the Dream Rift.

A foggy expanse unfolded as his thoughts gradually settled. Ranen looked up at the endless sky, shrouded in darkness and mist, his emotions subtly stirring.

Thinking back, the first time he had caught the players’ attention had been pure coincidence—he had gone viral simply because of his looks and the eerie, mysterious atmosphere of the hospital.

After that, he hadn’t even tried to attract players. In fact, his office was constantly surrounded by them, so he had been doing his best to avoid them. He hadn’t exactly produced any particularly viral images…

Well, Ranen conveniently chose to ignore that one infamous image with the keywords: hospital, isolation room, and straitjacket.

Apparently, that image had spawned countless fan creations in the players’ world.

And he absolutely, completely, did not want to know the details of those creations!

The last time he had stirred up heated discussion among players was because of the Gatekeeper, but there was no way he could reveal his true form in front of them. 

For one, he had to keep that a secret. Even though the players had their suspicions, they had no solid proof, so he could always deny it. 

And for another… he had no idea how to return to that state.

Ranen paced irritably in the Dream Rift, still unable to come up with a good idea. As he wandered, his gaze suddenly fell on the bell on the stone table.  

Right—there was still something he hadn’t finished asking last time.  

Ranen pressed the bell.  

—-

Meanwhile, on Archie’s side—  

He had finally managed to shake off the work assigned by the bureau director. After working overtime until 11 p.m., he mercilessly grabbed his coat and walked out, ignoring the wails of his colleagues at the police station.  

“Dr. Archie! Don’t abandon us!”  

“Wuu wuu wuu—without you (and your coffee), how are we supposed to survive the night?!”  

“Chief, aren’t you going to say something?”  

The police chief, who was also pulling an all-nighter with the officers, had even brought his bedding and toiletries to the station. Ever since the disaster in Arkham, the city had remained in turmoil. It wasn’t just the citizens who were left in despair after witnessing monsters and massacres—opportunists had also taken advantage of the chaos, leading to a nonstop flood of robbery and theft reports. Murders had also increased.  

With limited police resources, the station had been working overtime for days. Even Archie, who was only a consultant, had been dragged into it until this late hour.  

The chief cheerfully patted his round belly. “Come on now, Dr. Archie has already finished his tasks. And don’t think I don’t know—he’s done plenty to help you all too. Let the man rest.”  

Can’t afford to wear out such a valuable talent, after all.  

The officers who had been trying to pull Archie back into their misery fell silent at the chief’s words. One of them muttered, “Dr. Archie really has become much easier to get along with lately.”  

“I thought it was just me! Has he had a change of heart? He even greeted me today.”  

“Same here! And his coffee is amazing!”  

“…Sigh, if only Captain Albert were here right now.”  

At that, the once-lively discussion fell into silence.  

Everyone knew that Albert had taken a leave of absence from the station for a while, and after the disaster struck, he had gone completely missing—his fate unknown. Albert had been Archie’s closest friend, and if the chief hadn’t been keeping him occupied, Archie would have already been out searching for him. But no matter how many missing person reports were filed, there was still no news.  

“Alright, back to work,” the chief said. “Albert’s tough—he’ll be fine.”  

—-  

Back at his apartment, Archie glanced at the clock, then instinctively reached for some incense and other sleep aids. But the next second, he realized that he no longer needed to follow a strict schedule to enter the Dream Rift.  

Lying down on his bed, he closed his eyes—and sure enough, he slipped into the Dream Rift even before the clock struck midnight.  

This time, he had made up his mind—no matter what that sphinx asked, he would answer it.  

Albert’s disappearance weighed heavily on Archie’s mind.  

And then there was the matter of that man in black. He had originally planned to ask Ranen about it, but with how busy the station had been, he never got the chance. From the moment he woke up and got out of bed, he had been dragged straight into overtime.

Archie could have refused to work overtime. After all, one of the conditions of his joining the police force had been his detached position as a psychological consultant—he was only responsible for matters within the field of psychology, and everything else was completely outside his job scope. In the past, he had never shown the slightest interest in anything beyond his expertise.  

But he had changed.  

Maybe it was because of his father’s notebook, or maybe it was what had happened at the hospital. Either way, Archie had realized that the people and things he had once dismissed as beneath his notice might actually hold something crucial—something he had been blind to all along.  

No one could live in isolation. At some point, his arrogance had become a blindfold over his own eyes.  

So, Archie made a change.  

Closing his eyes, he entered that familiar space of swirling mist. Facing the creature before him—a monster that bore an uncanny resemblance to himself—he took a deep breath and said, “Go ahead, ask.”  

“Oh? Seems like you came prepared this time.” The Sphinx lifted its body with interest, just about to speak when it suddenly froze. “…Ah, what unfortunate timing. My master is calling me.”  

Archie: “? Isn’t your master me?”  

“That’s right. Please hold on a moment.” Without waiting for Archie’s reaction, the Sphinx leaped into the mist and disappeared.  

Archie: ???  

—-

“My Lord! I finally get to see you again! Your radiance is as dazzling as ever today!” The Sphinx eagerly trotted up to Ranen, rubbing against his leg.  

If one ignored its face, it really did look like a large lion. But the moment one did see its face—which closely resembled Archie’s—the entire scene turned disturbingly surreal.  

Ranen enjoyed petting fluffy creatures, but not the kind that could make someone lose their sanity!  

He took a discreet step back. “I called you because I have something to ask.”  

“No problem!” The Sphinx responded enthusiastically. “Are you a cat person or a dog person?”  

Ranen blinked. “…If I had to choose, I’d say I’m a dog person.”  

The Sphinx froze in place, mouth slightly open.  

Crap, Archie is doomed from the very first question!  

“But I do think cats are cute too,” Ranen added. “I just prefer dogs a bit more.”  

Phew! Close call! There’s still hope!  

The Sphinx let out a relieved sigh. “Then, what is it that you wish to know?”  

Ranen had originally planned to continue his questions from yesterday—such as the true identity of the man in black—but right now, there was something more pressing on his mind. Besides, he was also curious about the intelligence of the creature before him, this so-called ‘Sphinx’ that claimed to have been granted sentience by him. So instead, he asked:  

“If I want to leave humans in awe and make them interested in joining my faction, what’s the best way to do it?”  

The Sphinx: “Are you saying you want to gather followers?”  

“Well, you could put it that way.”  

“That’s easy! Who could possibly refuse you?! The moment you speak, there isn’t a single human in this world who could reject joining your church! Not one!” The Sphinx suddenly grew excited.  

Ranen was momentarily at a loss for words. “…Uh, got it. Calm down.”  

A hint of disappointment crept into his heart. Alright, maybe he had overestimated the Sphinx’s intelligence. While it did display remarkable cleverness, perhaps its thinking was still closer to that of a glorified search engine—something akin to a walking encyclopedia.  

The Sphinx quickly composed itself. “Apologies, I got carried away. Hmm… While I personally wouldn’t refuse any of your requests, if I had to give an answer… I believe that the highest honor for any follower would be to enter your divine kingdom and witness your sacred presence.”  

“A divine kingdom, huh?” Ranen found the idea reasonable, but unfortunately, it wasn’t an option. “I don’t have anything like that.”  

“Why would you think that?” The Sphinx looked puzzled. “When I speak of a divine kingdom, I don’t mean a specific location. Anywhere you descend, anywhere you choose to bestow your blessings, anywhere you walk—that will become your divine kingdom.”  

Even with that explanation, Ranen couldn’t immediately think of a place that could serve as his ‘divine kingdom.’ Every piece of land in Arkham already had an owner. And if he openly declared a ‘divine kingdom,’ it would only attract trouble from the Investigation Bureau or rival cult organizations.  

Unless… there was a place that was well-hidden, a place that no one else could enter without his permission.  

…Wait a minute.  

Ranen paused, suddenly realizing—  

Such a place did exist.