<<People from a foreign land return to their roots and go back to their homeland.>>

Watching Karens leave the Psychotherapy Room, Ranen wiped the cold sweat from his brow. He finally manages to bluff his way through.

God knows how much pressure he feels as an ordinary person facing a gang leader like that, especially knowing that Karens originally planned to kidnap him.

Come to think of it, he really has the players to thank this time; by some stroke of luck, he narrowly avoids disaster.

As Ranen thought about it, he let out another long sigh. He knew the security in Arkham wasn’t great, but he hadn’t expected it to be this bad. He had just been released from the police station two days ago, and now the gang had received information about his interrogation, launching a direct retaliation.

Could they have people in the police station too?

Feeling increasingly uneasy, Ranen immediately dialed Albert’s number for help, only to learn some unexpected news: Albert had gone out of town to investigate a case in the countryside outside Arkham and wouldn’t be back for about a week.

Hiss—Albert leaves, and the gang shows up right after. It’s practically an open secret that they have someone in the police station!

“And what about Dr. Archie?” Ranen asked, still unwilling to give up.

“Dr. Archie went with him. I’ll call you as soon as they get back.”

“Alright, thank you.”

After hanging up, Ranen sighed. Of all the times, it just had to be now.

He was just an ordinary person, completely incapable of dealing with criminals. 

It seemed that for now, he couldn’t clear up the misunderstanding with Karens. Ranen had figured out the city’s ecosystem: the power of the police here was very limited. They struggled even to deal with a captured gang member. Meanwhile, the gangs, especially Black Poker, held significant influence in the city, boldly challenging the police and brazenly kidnapping innocent citizens.

However, they feared the mysterious and the religious, as these forces were even more unreasonable than they were.

Beyond that, the city was teeming with strange phenomena invisible to ordinary people.

This city was far too dangerous.

Ranen sighed once again, resolving that once he earned enough money, he would definitely leave this place.

For now, he just hoped to keep the deception going for a week until Albert returned. He had to ensure that Karens never realized he wasn’t some evil god and that the players weren’t his followers.

As for himself, it was relatively manageable as long as he didn’t slip up. But he had no confidence when it came to the players. The thought processes of this group, known as the “Fourth Calamity,” were truly unfathomable. Who knew when they might accidentally blow his cover…

Ranen harbored a bit of anxiety in his heart, never forgetting to check the forums daily to keep track of the players’ activities.

[Ugh, I knew it! Ranen’s faction is finally starting to show itself.]

[New quest-giving NPC, Karens! He looks a bit fierce, doesn’t he? This guy’s probably in the Mafia, haha!]

‘You guessed right; he really is in the Mafia. :)’

[Doesn’t matter, as long as he can give out quests. Ranen hardly ever gives quests, but the rewards for his investigation missions are pretty great. I even saw someone showing off a crowbar, so jealous!]

Hmm… that’s true.

Since Ranen wasn’t involved during the Arkham era, he didn’t remember many quest leads. The ones he did remember were generally those with good early rewards.

Unfortunately, these items weren’t of much use to Ranen, who was determined to live an ordinary life in this world. So, he didn’t feel any burden about sharing quest leads with the players.

Thinking this over, Ranen realized that he could reserve the high-reward quests for players who were particularly good at boosting his favorability.

Ranen pondered; the favorability system was one of the few tools he had to motivate players, so perhaps he should take full advantage of it.

[Anyone up for a team in the haunted mansion? Got a lead from Karens.]

[Count me in, need three more.]

[Heh, if you’re heading to that haunted mansion in the Arkham outskirts, you’re too late. Our team already cleared it, got +3 Strength points, and dealt with the cursed item.]

[Ugh, the downside of getting leads from Karens is that he doesn’t give exclusive clues to just one person orz ^[1]“orz” is an emoticon used in online communication to represent a person bowing down or showing frustration, disappointment, or defeat. It depicts a person kneeling with their hands on the … Continue reading.]

From the posts players were sharing, it was clear that Karens had indeed followed Ranen’s instructions well. Now, a large portion of players had received quests and were officially starting their careers as investigators, with various live investigation posts popping up every day.

The average viewership of these posts was quite high. Unlike traditional games, this game rarely offered the chance to repeat a quest unless the previous player failed, making each quest a ‘one-time record.’

Moreover, every consequence caused by the players was recorded truthfully in the process of this world, and might have even affected the direction of subsequent tasks. It was this sense of reality that was the hot spot pursued by players.

After glancing at the posts and finding nothing unusual, Ranen felt somewhat relieved. It seemed he could hold out for a while longer…

—-

Meanwhile, inside the Black Poker organization,

Karens was in the leader’s office, engaged in a private conversation with the leader of Black Poker.

The leader, at 40 years old, was not young anymore. Having weathered many storms in this city, he had developed a composure that remained unshaken even in the face of great adversity. He believed there was little that could surprise him anymore.

However, as Karens recounted the details of the situation and revealed how close Black Poker had come to offending the supposed ‘deity,’ the leader broke out in a cold sweat.

His extensive experience made him aware of how deep the waters in Arkham were. There were certain things that Black Poker should not even touch, as doing so could mark the beginning of their destruction.

“Are you certain it is…” The leader’s expression was grave. “This is no laughing matter. Such an existence should be indescribable and extremely terrifying. It should not be able to easily descend upon this world.”

As the leader of Black Poker, he had his own intelligence channels and was aware of the unwritten rules of the mysterious world. If those so-called ‘deities’ could descend so easily, the world would have descended into chaos long ago.

“I’m certain. I heard it directly from their followers,” Karens said respectfully. “Given their faith, it is impossible for them to refer to any existence outside their own belief as a ‘deity.’”

“That is indeed a very convincing explanation.”

“According to my investigations, Ranen, or their deity, may be in a state of some limitation, which is why they are hiding among humans in a human form. If they were to fully manifest, it would likely attract more attention, even from the Inspection Bureau.”

The leader nodded, “So what do you suggest we do about this newly emerged organization? Should we continue with our usual policy of non-interference?”

“No,” Karens hesitated before continuing, “I believe we might not be able to remain uninvolved this time. This sect is different from those we have encountered before. They have only recently arrived in Arkham but seem prepared to dominate here. Evidence of this is their proactive investigation and elimination of any elements related to the supernatural in the area.”

Since he had provided the information to this group, Karens had been closely monitoring the player community and was well aware of their activities.

They seemed to be completely oblivious to the dangers, continually venturing into the most perilous situations without regard for their own or others’ safety.

“No, even if they knew, they probably wouldn’t care. As long as they can serve their ‘deity,’ these fanatics would likely be willing to pay any price.”

Karens recalled what he had witnessed when he sent an informant to follow them.

Despite their comrades falling beside them, these people were completely indifferent, continuing to search the bodies, laughing and cursing, and behaving as if they were on a leisurely outing.

This abnormality made him deeply uncomfortable and solidified his suspicions.

These followers were indeed not right in the head.

Moreover, the sect’s goal was clearly to eliminate all threats to their own power, aggressively sweeping away all supernatural occurrences around them to demonstrate their strength and seize control over Arkham’s underworld.

This also meant that Arkham’s previously stable situation was about to become turbulent once again.

“So what is your suggestion?” The leader of the Black Poker looked at Karens. Given his understanding of this subordinate, he had specifically come to see him and had sent other officials away, which meant it wasn’t just to report the appearance of a new religious organization in Arkham.

“I believe this is the best opportunity for us to rise,” Karens said, biting his lip as he voiced his thoughts. “They have just arrived in Arkham and have not yet solidified their position, but they have already revealed their ambitions. Meanwhile, Black Poker has deep roots in Arkham and advantages in intelligence and connections. They will definitely need our assistance.”

The leader of Black Poker was slightly taken aback, not because he found Karens’s strategy particularly brilliant, but because he was surprised by his audacity.

“Do you know what you’re saying? Have you forgotten how difficult these people are to deal with? Aren’t you afraid they might direct their anger at Black Poker?”

“I know, but I think they are different,” Karens recalled what had happened before.

At the moment when his deception was exposed, Karens had actually prepared himself for death. However, he was unexpectedly let off lightly, with the only cost being the loss of some intelligence.

From that point on, Karens realized that this religious organization was much more lenient than he had anticipated.

It was also possible that they needed him, and the only thing Karens could think of that might have been of use to them was Black Poker’s network and intelligence.

From observing the players over this period, there might indeed be a possibility for cooperation.

So far, they had been wary of other religious organizations in Arkham mainly because the people there were too unpredictable and irrational. One wrong word could lead to their annihilation, making normal communication almost impossible. However, based on Karens’s observations and understanding of the players over the past few days, even though they were also fearless of death and often acted in ways that were hard to comprehend, most of the time they could still communicate effectively.

This gave rise to the idea of cooperation.

“I believe this is our chance for Black Poker to formally step into the inner world,” Karens said seriously. “If we miss this opportunity… then to those people, we will forever remain as ants that can be crushed at any time.”

—Under the extraordinary, all are ants.

Karens had long understood the cruelty of this statement. Although Black Poker commanded influence in Arkham’s underground world, everyone knew that the real terror in the inner world always came from those who controlled mystery and power.

They were like natural disasters that could descend at any moment, utterly unreasonable. Even being brushed by the edge of the storm could lead to Black Poker’s destruction.

He didn’t want to lament his fate only when faced with total destruction. Even being a subordinate to some religious organization would be better than being easily crushed like an ant.

The leader of Black Poker fell into silence.

“Boss!” Karens couldn’t help but urge.

“It’s not time yet,” the leader of Black Poker said, wiping the sweat from his forehead. His wrinkled eyes glinted with the light of someone weathered by many trials. “This religious organization… hasn’t shown enough power to make me want to bet on them.”

“Isn’t the deity and those crazy followers enough?” Karens asked, puzzled.

“Not enough! Deities rarely intervene directly; they don’t care about humanity. Moreover, if the deity is really as you say, restricted…” The leader seemed to fall into some dark memories, his expression growing increasingly grim, mixed with both longing and deep-rooted fear.

“Karens, my child, I have lived 20 years longer than you, and thus I know what truly terrifying entities lie within those organizations. They are the true bearers of divine will, the agents of the gods on earth, endowed with supreme power, unwavering faith, and a quiet, burning madness. Once you’ve seen such beings, you would never think of opposing them.”

Karens couldn’t help but swallow nervously. “They are…?”

“We generally refer to such beings as… Disciples!”

Karens left the leader’s office, and Joel, the boss of Black Poker, couldn’t help but pick up the dossier again and again. His repeated actions of picking up and putting down the document inadvertently revealed his inner hesitation.

He was uncertain whether to take the gamble. Collaborating with such entities was both an opportunity and a risk, potentially causing everything he had to vanish in an instant. The painful lesson from the “Green Colt ^[2] The disappeared gang” incident five years ago still lingered vividly in his mind.

“What are you thinking?”

At this moment, a stranger’s voice suddenly sounded near Joel’s ear, coming from very close by.

Joel’s skin instantly erupted in goosebumps. Startled, he screamed and fell to the floor along with his chair, creating a loud noise. He flailed his arms on the desk, eyes fixed on the person who had suddenly appeared in the office.

The newcomer had shoulder-length black hair, black eyes, and an exquisitely delicate face. He wore a smile that carried no warmth, resembling a doll with a smiling mask, exuding an eerie, inhuman quality.

He spoke softly, “Have you found the location of your gun? Making noise was clever, but unfortunately, the bodyguards outside probably can’t hear it.”

Joel swallowed nervously. He instinctively gripped the only source of his power—a revolver— but quickly relaxed, forcing a smile as he asked, “When did you arrive, sir?”

“Since your subordinate came in to report.”

“If we had known a distinguished guest like yourself was arriving, we would have given you the highest courtesy,” Joel said, supporting himself on the desk as he stood up. “May I ask what brings you here today?”

“Of course, it’s to offer you an opportunity.” The man said softly, his words like a serpent in the Eden Garden tempting Eve, “You’re hesitating whether to agree to your subordinate’s proposal to cooperate with that mysterious entity. Of course, it’s called cooperation, but you know better than anyone that it’s essentially becoming a vassal. Your strength is insufficient. The influence and means of Black Poker are like sandcastles on the beach when faced with real, overwhelming power. You don’t want your hard work to serve others.”

Joel’s fingers on the desk trembled slightly.

This was a reaction to having his thoughts laid bare. His gaze towards the man had changed from mere caution to a fear of being exposed.

“You—do you mean…”

“I will give you this opportunity, but I want you…” The mysterious man smiled, “to kill Ranen.”

Joel’s legs gave way, and he collapsed to the floor.

‘You might as well kill me yourself.’

“Of course, I will provide you with assistance.”

Joel remained silent, staring at the man, eventually managing a bitter smile, “It seems I’ve gotten myself into a significant conspiracy? Do these matters of the mysterious world really require us ordinary people to be used as pawns?”

“Oh? Do you want to know?” The man’s smile remained gentle, as if he would answer if Joel simply asked.

Joel wisely chose to remain silent.

“Then please think of a solution. My name is Amos. I believe we’ll be working together for a while.”

“Y-yes,” Joel said, his face covered in cold sweat.

Suddenly, the phone rang in the room. Joel felt as if he had been granted a reprieve, his eyes fixed on Amos’s actions. His fingers instinctively moved towards his pocket, hoping to grab his phone and call for help from outside.

“Sorry, it’s my phone ringing,” Amos said, pulling out his phone and answering, “Hello? Master? Yes, yes, I’m here…”

He glanced at Joel, and his figure suddenly vanished from the spot.

When he reappeared, he was already in a narrow alleyway.

“Hmm, convenient for talking,” the man’s voice was soft. “The plan is going smoothly. Please rest assured; I have selected the forces suitable for testing.”

“Very good. You really won’t let me down, Amos,” the person on the other end of the line replied with a tone of satisfaction. “Until we confirm that Ranen is the ‘Gate’ we are looking for, our organization must remain concealed.”

“I understand,” Amos said with a slight smile. “I promise that in the near future, you will achieve your grand ambition.”

“Strangers return to their roots, returning to their homeland.”

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line.

“Amos.”

“I’m here.”

“You seem to have never said that this is our shared aspiration. You always refer to it as ‘your’ desire.”

“Yes, I have little interest in returning to the homeland,” Amos said with a smile. “I only wish to help you and see you achieve your grand ambition. That is my desire.”

“It better be.”

Without waiting for Amos’s reply, the call was abruptly ended.

Amos listened to the busy tone on the line and shrugged helplessly. “Still as cautious as ever.”

It is truly disheartening. Has he failed to meet expectations recently? Amos wondered with some frustration, pressing down the corner of his upturned mouth. Or perhaps he has done too well, causing the master to become suspicious.

But he genuinely wants to help the master achieve his grand ambition.

After all, every gardener knows that flowers should only be picked when they are at their most beautiful, right?