[Since when did he have a Holy Scripture?]

Content Warning: The following chapter contains graphic and disturbing scenes that may be distressing to some readers. Reader discretion is advised.

No One Stays Sane logged into the game.

Following the beginner’s guide from the forum, No One Stays Sane quickly sorted out their profession—Unemployed Youth—in just a few steps. With a high Education stat (which determines the number of skill points), they allocated most of their skill points to First Aid, Medicine, and Psychoanalysis.

According to the current version, those skills were the easiest to grind. Although she had always had a heart for combat builds, the game allowed multiple character cards anyway, so for that version, she decided to go with a doctor.

After distributing skill and attribute points, No One Stays Sane wasn’t great at the face customization part. She picked a decent-looking face at random, confirmed it, and entered the game.

Upon opening her eyes, she found herself in a dark, foul-smelling alleyway. No One Stays Sane blinked, then ran out excitedly.

“Whoa~”

It seemed her login spot was in a lower-middle-class slum. The surrounding houses were cramped and rundown, and there was a drunkard sprawled on the ground.

Wait a sec, this doesn’t seem like a drunkard.

No One Stays Sane leaned in for a closer look.

…It was a corpse.

[Sanity Check: Failed]

First came the stench of rotting flesh flooding her nose, followed by the sight of a human corpse—her own kind—being gnawed on by rats. A chunk of the lips was missing, revealing yellowed gums underneath.

Gross.

No One Stays Sane bolted to the side, dry heaving, and fumbled to lower her sensory settings.

Holy crap, this is what losing sanity feels like!

For a moment, No One Stays Sane felt nauseated; the next, she found it fascinating. She’d played text-based and voice-based tabletop RPGs before, but those mostly leaned on freedom since words and speech alone couldn’t fully capture the tense, sanity-draining vibe of a real tabletop session.

Now she understood—this game was way too detailed. For a split second, she genuinely thought it was a fellow human lying on the ground. The mix of nausea and fear hit her hard, and a strange sense of sorrow, like “the rabbit mourns the fox,” welled up in her chest.

Full-dive games these days are insane. With this level of intensity, it’s definitely going to be 21+ when it hits open beta.

After finally pulling herself together and stepping out of the alley, No One Stays Sane accidentally bumped into a teenage boy at the alley’s exit. The boy hurriedly muttered an apology and darted off.

The collision physics were pretty solid too.

No One Stays Sane brushed off her shoulder, then gazed at her surroundings with a mix of awe and shock.

Just as she’d guessed, this was indeed some kind of slum.

But what she hadn’t expected was how severe it was.

Everywhere she looked, homeless people groaned and wailed in pain, clutching injured limbs as they lay on the ground. They seemed to be lined up for something. As No One Stays Sane walked further, a limping old man blocked her path.

“Just one Western Dollar, please. I need to buy some fresh hemostatic bandages.”

No One Stays Sane noticed blood seeping from the stump of his severed leg. Instinctively, she reached for her wallet—but after rummaging around, she couldn’t find the initial amount of Western Dollars she was supposed to have.

“…Where’s my money?”

“My guess? Probably stolen.”

No One Stays Sane whipped around to see a towering figure standing before her. At least 80 kilos, bald head gleaming in the sunlight, flashing her a goofy grin. “Newbie?”

“Yeah. Are you from the last version?” No One Stays Sane spotted his ID overhead: Strongest Man.

Strongest Man: “Nah, I’m a new player too, just got here a bit earlier than you.”

‘…Then why are you spouting lines like some veteran player?!’

No One Stays Sane choked on her words. “A bit earlier? Then how’d you know my money’s gone?”

The bald guy cheerfully flipped his pockets inside out. “Because mine’s gone too! It’s a full-dive game, so the system didn’t even hint that I got hit by a ‘sleight of hand’ attack. Judging by your face, I bet you got nabbed too.”

Seeing No One Stays Sane nod, he glanced at the old man. “And this? Probably a combo trap. They just scammed me with the same trick.”

Under their stares, the old man silently flopped to the ground and started yelling.

“…See? Told you. Even the script’s identical,” the bald guy said.

“This is way too realistic! We don’t need this level of realism!” No One Stays Sane shouted, her face twisting in exasperation.

Within seconds, the two of them were surrounded.

It seemed they were either well-prepared or outright in cahoots with the scamming old man on the ground. Brandishing steel pipes, they glared at the two with slanted eyes. “So, what’s it gonna be? You knocked this old guy down—shouldn’t you cough up some cash to make it right?”

No One Stays Sane and Strongest Man exchanged looks.

Strongest Man: “You fight?”

No One Stays Sane: “I didn’t put any points in combat skills.”

Strongest Man: “Same here. I’m a healer.”

No One Stays Sane: “.”

‘Huh? Why’d you roll such a huge build if you’re a healer??’

No One Stays Sane couldn’t wrap her head around it. Strongest Man, catching the confusion on her face, scratched his head shyly. “I’m scared of medical disputes, you know.”

No One Stays Sane: “Fair enough.”

Before the two could banter any further, the thugs seemed to clock that they were dealing with broke nobodies and decided to skip the pleasantries. “Today’s just rotten luck—nothing but penniless losers. Whatever, their clothes should fetch something.”

Strongest Man: “?? Wait, this game lets you strip people? Hold on, don’t touch me—I’ll do it myself.”

No One Stays Sane: “???”

Thugs: “?”

Just as Strongest Man’s beefy frame was about to be exposed to the open air, a voice rang out from nearby. “Hey, what’re you lot up to?”

Oh, oh! Classic hero-saves-the-day moment! No One Stays Sane hurriedly piped up, “Someone’s here to save us—you don’t need to strip!”

Strongest Man’s hands dropped from his pants, a flicker of disappointment crossing his face.

No One Stays Sane didn’t even want to know what he was regretting. She quickly turned toward the voice, expecting a fight to break out. But instead, the thugs glanced over, their faces paling in unison. Then, to No One Stays Sane and Strongest Man’s shock, they bowed to the approaching figure.

“Big Bro, what’re you doing here!”

“Came to see what you’re up to. It’s this late, and you’re still pulling these stunts?” The player with the ID “A-Long” gave the old man an exasperated smack. “Didn’t they set up a spot up ahead for free bandages? Old folks over 70 don’t even have to pay.”

The old man gave an awkward chuckle. “Just trying to generate some extra income, you know.”

“Not saying you can’t, but scamming our people? That’s where you’ve got a problem. Alright, off you go.”

The old man and the thugs scurried off. Only then did A-Long turn to the two newbies, a grin spreading across his face. “Newbies?”

“Yup, yup! You’re a veteran player, right, big shot?” No One Stays Sane double-checked, still a bit wary.

“Of course I am! Wait, neither of you recognize me?” A-Long pointed at himself with a pitiful look. “I’ve been streaming in the live broadcast section lately, you know!”

His livestream audience didn’t spare him any mercy with their comments:

[A-Long, you’re not cut out for this anymore—you’re already outdated.]

[Yeah, yeah. Without any big plot involvement, everyone’s just grinding daily quests in-game. No one’s watching streams anymore.]

[Feels like your content’s just not unique. Boss Druid plays super immersed, Boss Black Cat nails the hardcore deduction stuff, and Troublemaker Squad^[1] Ye Ye ’s streams are always a blast.]

A-Long felt like a barrage of arrows had pierced his heart.

The newbies’ words dealt the final blow. Strongest Man scratched his head sheepishly. “Sorry, I usually only watch Troublemaker Squad’s streams.”

No One Stays Sane had a sudden epiphany—no wonder this guy’s behavior felt so bizarre.

Birds of a feather flock together, huh.

A-Long clutched his chest dramatically. “Is my stream content really that boring?”

[Actually, it’s not too bad. The main thing is that there’s no big storyline right now, and everyone’s busy grinding skill points.] A kind viewer in the livestream chat comforted him.

[But it’s also true that you don’t have your own unique style yet.]

[Come on, A-Long, keep it up! We’re waiting for you to become a big streamer!]

No One Stays Sane consoled him, “I’ll go follow you.”

“Wahh, thank you! By the way, what skills have you all picked? How about I take you guys to grind some daily quests?”

“Sweet, sweet! We all went for the doctor skill.”

“Doctors, huh? Perfect, we’re short on doctors right now,” A-Long said to the livestream audience. “Today’s stream will be about taking newbies to grind faction dailies. If you’re interested, dear viewers, hit that follow button!”

And so, the two players followed A-Long. With him leading the way, things were noticeably quieter along the route. The hidden gazes watching them also shifted away when they saw A-Long.

No One Stays Sane marveled, “Big shot, what’s your status around here? Why are they all scared of you?”

“They’re not scared of me—they’re scared of the power behind me,” A-Long explained. “You’ve probably heard of the Secret Church, right? Black Poker, a subordinate group of the Secret Church, is the biggest gang in this area. As long as you say you’re with Black Poker, people around here will give you some respect.”

“Damn, that’s badass!”

“Yeah, I know, I know. Right now, the forums have shared info on a bunch of factions, but none of them have better perks than the Secret Church.”

These days, while most players were happily grinding the Secret Church’s faction dailies, there were also quite a few players—like those from the Starwatch Guild—who preferred to pioneer new content. After all, their guilds would prepare accounts for them that had already completed the faction dailies, so they could switch whenever they wanted.

Beyond these players, a new ID called “Adventurer” had recently popped up on the forums. Her favorite thing to do was compile the distribution of in-game factions and post it for free.

Unlike professional players, Adventurer’s pioneering was pure exploration. She often uploaded her discoveries to the forums without caring about keeping them secret for profit. In her own words, an adventurer enjoys the process of adventure, not the outcome.

Her posts listed plenty of organizations and factions—mostly gangs, along with some foreign cults that Adventurer had somehow connected with from who-knows-where.

The bald man nodded in agreement: “Yeah, among the factions Adventurer has revealed so far, like the Black Cuckoo gang, their faction missions are way more intense. You join, and they immediately give you a gun and a ‘pre-jail package.’ To ensure member loyalty, the organization makes you shoot someone or transport drugs. This game is just too wild—I’m honestly doubting if it’ll even survive to a successful public release.”

“Damn, isn’t there any official restriction?”

“There is. Recently, it seems that faction got reported and was taken down by the police.” The bald man paused. “I have good reason to suspect it was a player who reported them.”

[His suspicion isn’t wrong.]

A comment scrolled across A-Long’s livestream chat.

[It was probably Adventurer herself who reported it. A friend of mine was curious and joined once, but that very night, they got caught in a police drug raid.]

[Holy crap, what happened next?]

[Well, of course, it was a righteous betrayal. After all, my friend and I have always hated that kind of stuff. Never thought we’d get to experience a taste of divine justice in a game, haha.]

[And then it inspired other players. Now a bunch of small factions are gone (dog head emoji).]

[Thanks to you clever little tricksters, the difficulty of joining other factions has skyrocketed (crying-laughing emoji). Who the heck started this backstab meta?!]

[But backstabbing has rewards! The police station recently opened a bounty—report successfully and get 100,000 Western Dollars.]

[What the—where do I sign up??]

[Too late. You think we’d get a shot at something that good? It’s already been snatched up.]

It seemed that players’ gaming lives weren’t just about grinding faction dailies—they were still so free-spirited and full of fun.

As for why no one’s reported the Secret Church or Black Poker?

Once A-Long led the two players to the small clinic on the street corner, they understood.

The line of people waiting for treatment stretched from one end of the street to the other.

Several players at the corner’s shady clinic were tirelessly treating the wounded. No One Stays Sane watched as one player’s emergency treatment seemed to fail—the patient under his hands twitched and passed out.

“Damn, my hand slipped. Ugh, the dice just weren’t on my side,” Player A sighed, only to be shoved aside by Player B. “Move, move! Let me handle this!”

[First Aid: Success]

The patient who’d just fainted woke up: “I-I think I saw my late grandma.”

“Haha, you’re quite the joker, patient!” Player B laughed it off, turning to the next person in line. “Next up, who’s it gonna be?”

The waiting injured person swallowed hard: “I-I think I’m fine. I can tough it out on my own.”

“No, I don’t think you can.”

No One Stays Sane stared at the scene in shock, while the bald man’s eyes lit up.

“Is this allowed? Why don’t they go to a proper hospital?”

“Look at you asking that,” A-Long smacked his lips. “If they could afford expensive medical insurance, would they even be living in a place like this?”

A strangely realistic moment in the game: medical insurance covered everything, but it was pricey—something the poor couldn’t afford.

“Besides, our treatment’s free. So what if we accidentally kill someone? Right?” A-Long patted a freshly bandaged passerby on the shoulder.

The injured person gulped: “You’re right.”

[True gathering spot of quack doctors.]

[I inexplicably feel bad for the NPCs getting pummeled by this medical chaos lol.]

[Who says A-Long’s stream has no highlights? I love watching players treat NPCs haha.]

“Won’t there be any people making a fuss at the clinic?” the bald man asked curiously.

“Oh, sure there are. Look, here comes another one,” A-Long jerked his chin toward a commotion breaking out on the other side.

“Didn’t you say bandaging wounds here is free?” a middle-aged man in a suit shouted loudly. “Why are they charging me?”

Player C rolled their eyes: “We only don’t charge people from this neighborhood because they’ve already paid protection fees to Black Poker. This is a value-added service.”

The other injured people in line immediately started clamoring:

“Exactly, we pay protection fees all the time!”

“Though I never thought the day would come when the protection fee would actually come in handy.”

“Wahhh, thank you, Black Poker! I’ll definitely pay my fees on time from now on!”

Player: “You heard them. You’re obviously not from around here. Surely you can afford to pay at an outside clinic, right?”

“We’re all human—why are you charging me?” The middle-aged man ignored Player C’s words, his finger nearly jabbing Player C’s nose. “And this is obviously an illegal clinic! Where’s your medical license? Show it to me! Careful, or I’ll report you!”

Player C didn’t even bother glancing at him. If they had a medical license, would they need to run an illegal clinic here? With a wave toward a corner, a group of idle thug players squatting there perked up instantly, swaggering toward the man with exaggerated gangster walks they’d probably picked up from some TV show.

“Oh~ so it’s you, punk, causing trouble ~ here?”

“You think you’re tough, huh? What turf you from?”

“Got a proper job, huh, old man? Want us to pay a visit to your workplace?”

[Intimidation: Failure]

[Intimidation: Success]

[Intimidation: Success]

The once-arrogant middle-aged man instantly shrank like a quail, too scared to say another word as he bolted in the opposite direction. But having finally stumbled upon a chance to grind their intimidation skills, the players weren’t about to let him off so easily—they followed him with lazy, carefree steps.

The two newbies watching this scene: …

No One Stays Sane was awestruck: “I thought this place was just about grinding medical skills. Guess I was too shallow.”

“Heh heh, never underestimate players’ creativity. Even if there aren’t conditions to grind other skills, we’ll make the conditions ourselves,” A-Long said with a grin. “But your choice isn’t wrong—right now, first aid, medicine, and psychoanalysis are the hottest skills.”

“Huh? I get the first two, but what’s with the last one?”

“Hmm, you’ll see when you run into it. By the way, you guys just logged into this game, right? Joined a faction yet?”

“Not yet.”

“Alright, then let this old hand give you a ride. If you join the Secret Church first, doing these volunteer gigs lets you grind skill proficiency, earn faction contribution, and—if you’re lucky—boost faction reputation. Three birds with one stone. That’s the standard route everyone takes.”

“Sweet, sweet!” No One Stays Sane said eagerly. “I heard that when you first join the church, you can visit the Divine Kingdom and see Ranen. Is that true?”

“Of course, you should cherish the opportunity, lol. Ranen hasn’t been showing up in reality lately, so joining the church might be your last chance to see him in the current storyline.”

A-Long waved in a direction, and soon a van pulled up, its window rolling down.

“What’s up?”

“You’re heading out anyway, right? Mind taking two newbies along for the ride?”

The old driver didn’t say much, just tilted his head: “Get in!”

No One Stays Sane and the bald man thanked him and hurriedly climbed aboard. The van had been crudely converted into an ambulance—its back seats completely gutted and replaced with a tightly secured single bed. The old driver said, “You in a rush? If not, I might pick up a few patients along the way.”

The bald man and No One Stays Sane: “? You’ve got that kind of business too?”

“Of course! Don’t you know how expensive ambulances are around here? My original goal was to grind my driving skills, but if I can earn some Western Dollars and XP on the side, why not?” The old driver shut the door and started the van. “Alright, we’re off.”

No One Stays Sane instinctively buckled her seatbelt, then glanced back at the bald man: “You’re not gonna put on your seatbelt?”

“Come on, it’s just a game,” the bald man said, peering out the window. “But for some reason, this game gives me more of a management vibe. Isn’t its selling point supposed to be the Lovecraftian theme?”

“Yeah, that’s why chances to grind skills like this are pretty rare,” the old driver said, swaying his head. “Look, the missions are actually decreasing day by day. You newbies better move fast. This game doesn’t reset the map, but the NPCs build stuff at a decent pace.”

“Ohh, got it.”

No One Stays Sane also curiously looked outside, watching NPCs in various uniforms bustling through the streets and alleys. For a moment, the scene almost overlapped with reality.

Suddenly, the old driver slammed on the brakes, rolled down the window, and shouted, “Hey, need an ambulance? Only 10 Western Dollars. If you can’t afford a hospital, I can recommend a free clinic—though it’s a ‘no guarantees on life or death’ kind of deal.”

An injured person lying by the roadside had apparently been hit by a snapped utility pole, crushing half their body. Nearby stood someone—maybe a friend or relative—looking dazed and unresponsive.

The old driver clicked his tongue and got out. No One Stays Sane and the bald man followed, and an NPC doing volunteer work nearby came over too.

Unfortunately, the pole had struck a bad spot. Half the injured person’s body was pinned underneath, their bones clearly shattered, and they’d already slipped into unconsciousness.

In just that short time, the injured person’s breathing grew fainter. The person beside them finally snapped out of it, rushing over to try lifting the pole—but it wouldn’t budge.

“Step aside, let us handle it.” A few players with high strength stats stepped up.

[Strength: Success]

[Strength: Success]

[Strength: Failure]

Two successes were enough. With effort, the players managed to shift the pole, revealing the injured person beneath, their arm a mangled mess of blood and flesh.

“Not good. He’s showing signs of shock—he probably won’t make it to a hospital,” the old driver said, flipping up the injured person’s eyelid.

Karena, watching from the sidelines, also thought it looked tricky. She knew some first aid, but just as she stepped forward, her husband stopped her, shaking his head.

They could save people, but if they ended up killing someone, the risk was too high.

While Karena hesitated, the players nearby eagerly jumped in: “Me, me, me! I’ve got first aid!”

“I’ll do it! I’ve got medicine—my medicine skill’s high, 20 points!”

“Get lost, 20-point rookie. I’ve got 30 points!”

“Heh, I’ve got 32 points. I’m the highest, right? I’ll take it.”

“Damn, you animals—did you dump all your free stat points into medicine?”

In the end, the player with the highest medicine stat confidently took charge. Ignoring Karena’s attempt to intervene, they eagerly got to work.

First Aid: Failure.

Player A: …

The failed first aid nearly sent the barely-breathing injured person to the afterlife. The relative’s eyes nearly popped out of their head, and Karena stood there dumbfounded. Before anyone could say anything, the bald man quickly stepped in.

“Step aside, let this lucky emperor handle it!”

First Aid: Success.

“See that? Some people are just born medical prodigies.” The bald man tossed his head back, smirking smugly. “Heh, this is actually my first successful save!”

Karena: …

Everyone else: …

The freshly revived patient: …

For some reason, they suddenly didn’t feel like saying thanks…

The old driver gave a wry smile. “Alright, let’s load him up. We’ll take him to the clinic over there. The hospital ERs are swamped right now—you’d probably never get a turn.”

That last part was directed at the injured person’s family.

The family hesitated, but at this point, they didn’t have much choice. Gritting their teeth, they said, “Fine, let’s go.”

“Alright then. No One Stays Sane, Strongest Man, if you walk a few hundred meters ahead, you’ll hit the Kamui Tribe’s district. You can join the church there. I’ve got to take the patient to the clinic, so you’ll have to walk the last stretch yourselves.”

“No problem, thanks, bro.” The bald man, with the ID “Strongest Man,” waved him off.

Soon, the van drove away from the scene. With no more events to watch, the volunteer players scattered once again.

No One Stays Sane and Strongest Man were about to leave too, but an NPC stopped them. Karena, noticing the blood still on Strongest Man’s hands from the first aid, said, “My house is nearby. Want to wash your hands and rest a bit?”

She looked at No One Stays Sane and Strongest Man kindly. “You’ve both worked hard. Come have some tea before you head off.”

No One Stays Sane and Strongest Man exchanged glances, and eventually, the bald man agreed.

Karena wasn’t kidding—their house was indeed close, just a residential building off the street. Strongest Man went to wash up, while No One Stays Sane sat on the couch, holding a small snack Karena had made, chatting curiously with the NPC.

Karena said she was a seasoned housewife. Besides taking care of her family, she often volunteered in the community. During this disaster, her family had been lucky—spared from the worst of it. When the weirdness first struck, they’d all been at home, avoiding the initial chaos. Later, when they passed out, they were still safely in their own house, escaping further danger.

But after waking up to the devastation outside, they’d all joined the post-disaster relief volunteer team together.

“You’re really good people,” No One Stays Sane said with a sigh. “Along the way, I’ve seen so many hiding in their homes. Not everyone has the courage to come out and help others.”

“No, no, compared to you, I’m far behind,” Karena said, ashamed. “I actually know a bit of first aid—I studied nursing when I was younger. But in that moment, I hesitated. I was afraid of taking responsibility for a failure and didn’t step up right away.”

No One Stays Sane looked at Karena in surprise—not because of what she said, but because of how intelligent she seemed. Though No One Stays Sane had heard beforehand that the NPCs in this game were supposedly almost lifelike, this level of emotional simulation was just too real.

In this short stretch of gameplay, she’d encountered thieves, scammers, villains, bystanders, and now this ordinary yet kind woman. They genuinely had their own internal logic, just like real people—capable of doing evil, doing good, hesitating over consequences, and feeling grateful when someone else stepped in to save the day.

They were practically living, breathing humans.

The similarity was so uncanny that No One Stays Sane felt like she was on the verge of triggering a sanity check.

“No One Stays Sane, I’m done washing up. Let’s go,” Strongest Man called out as he emerged from the bathroom, patting her shoulder. “What are you spacing out for?”

“Y-Yeah, okay,” No One Stays Sane stood up, hurriedly thanking Karena. “Thanks for the snacks. We’ve got to head out.”

“You’re welcome. Take the medical kit too. I noticed your friend didn’t have any tools earlier—it must’ve been inconvenient.”

“No, no, how could we take your stuff?”

“Take it,” Karena said with a smile. “Our family isn’t well-off, but we still want to do our part. It’ll be more useful in your hands than ours.”

With her insisting like that, Strongest Man had no choice but to accept. The family even enthusiastically offered to see them off.

“No, no, that’s too much,” No One Stays Sane waved her hands quickly.

“It’s fine. We were heading out to volunteer anyway,” Karena said with a laugh.

Strongest Man didn’t feel shy about it either. As they walked out, he casually asked, “Been busy with volunteer work lately?”

“There was a stretch where it was insanely busy, but it’s gotten a lot better since,” Karena replied. “Suddenly, a ton of people stepped up to volunteer, and the workload got split up.”

The husband added, “And they’re all great guys—just like you two. Responsible, enthusiastic, jumping at every task.”

No One Stays Sane thought to herself, Yeah, of course they’re jumping at it. Those are skill point opportunities! But she didn’t interrupt the husband’s praise. As they said goodbye to this warm family, a teenage boy—looking like he’d just started high school—who’d been trailing behind suddenly spoke up: “Aren’t you afraid of getting blamed if you can’t save someone?”

Even professional medics would feel their scalps tingle when face with a critically injured, dying patient. Yet these half-baked amateurs had guts of steel, fearlessly diving in regardless of the patient’s condition. Weren’t they worried about getting sued if they killed someone?

Strongest Man shrugged. “Saving a life is worth more than building a seven-story pagoda, right? Saving someone comes first—everything else can get lost.”

No One Stays Sane nodded in agreement. Karena could tell they genuinely meant it. Unlike mature, polished adults who were good at dodging responsibility, these people seemed to retain the raw kindness of humanity’s origins.

This instantly boosted the naturally kind Karena family’s fondness for them. Karena’s son shrugged. “Alright, I’ll apologize for my initial stereotype. I thought you guys were a bunch of weirdos, but now I see you’re a bunch of cool weirdos.”

“John!”

“Haha, it’s fine, Mrs. Karena. We are weirdos,” No One Stays Sane laughed, waving at them. “Bye-bye! We’ve got to head to the Kamui district. Catch you later!”

“See you… wait, you’re going to the Kamui district?” Karena’s husband had started to say goodbye but suddenly raised his voice.

“Yeah, what’s up?” No One Stays Sane asked, puzzled.

“Uh, nothing much.” The husband waved his hand awkwardly. After a moment’s hesitation, Karena spoke up. “It’s fine—we’re not religious, so we don’t mind. But lately, some people might prank the Kamui or anyone passing through their area.”

“Prank?”

No One Stays Sane and Strongest Man didn’t get it.

But they soon found out.

As the two approached the Kamui district, they spotted several shady-looking youths carrying paint cans and spray guns, splashing red paint onto the walls of the Kamui district.

No One Stays Sane and the bald man jumped in surprise. Before they could step in to stop it, a group—led by Ye Ye—suddenly burst out from a corner, cameras in hand.

“Finally caught you little punks!”

Seeing Ye Ye and his crew, the youths didn’t panic. They laughed and flipped them off. “Get lost, traitors!”

“What are you gonna do about it, you demon-worshipping idiots?”

“It’s because of people like you that we’re suffering through all this!”

“Get out! Get out of Arkham!”

“Hey, my temper’s about to snap,” Baba said, rolling up his sleeves and charging at them. Only then did the youths scatter and flee.

“Forget it, forget it,” someone from the Kamui district rushed out, holding back Ye Ye and the others who wanted to give chase. “No need to bother with them. We’re used to it.”

“Damn it, how can you get used to something like this?” Ye Ye retorted. “I’m telling you, once you swallow this kind of bullying, those jerks just get worse.”

The Kamui woman gave a helpless smile. “Even if we fight back, the outcome’s the same. The police won’t side with us. But thank you for standing up for us.”

Baba wanted to say more, but Ye Ye pulled him aside, and the two stepped away to talk quietly.

The Kamui woman turned to No One Stays Sane and Strongest Man. “You… you’re new faces. Are you here to join us?”

“That’s right!” No One Stays Sane said. She glanced at Strongest Man, only to see him pestering Shushu Hao for an autograph, saying he’d always admired the “Troublemaker Squad.”

No One Stays Sane speechlessly turned away, looking at the exotic woman. “Can we still join now?”

“Of course. Please, follow me.”

The Kamui woman led the way. Soon, Strongest Man caught up, and together they met Carmen, the priest of the Secret Church. They recited the prayer with him.

When they opened their eyes again, the scene had changed.

Before them stretched a black forest. Both players had already studied the path tutorial on the forums—just head toward the central courtyard. Even if they got lost, the plants here would guide them to the middle.

Following the route Druid had taken, No One Stays Sane finally laid eyes on the divine beauty that had hooked her into the game from the start.

“Welcome,” the god deep within the forest greeted them gently. His eyes swirled with emerald green and a golden gleam of divinity, weaving a mesmerizing, dreamlike vision. “I hope you’ll come to love this world.”

[Sanity Check: Success]

No One Stays Sane heard the sanity check ping in her ears, her expression briefly dazed.

She’d heard early on from the forums about the NPC named Ranen and his stunning looks, but she hadn’t expected seeing him up close to be this breathtaking. Fans on the forums had claimed that photos couldn’t capture even a tenth of Ranen’s charm—No One Stays Sane had thought they were exaggerating. But only those who actually entered the game could truly feel this devilish allure that seemed to evaporate one’s very sanity.

No One Stays Sane took a deep breath, recalling the sights she’d seen along the way, and smiled. “I already love it.”

“That’s wonderful. I hope you can fully enjoy everything here,” Ranen said, his lips curving into a faint smile.

—-

After sending off another batch of players, Ranen took a moment to catch his breath, stealing a break from the busy task of greeting newcomers.

Time to see what good deeds the players were up to with their faction missions.

And then he saw:

Quack doctors re-employed at shady clinics in the lower-middle streets, reckless drivers in black ambulances stealing jobs from legit hospital rigs, thug players collecting protection fees for Black Poker, and some suspiciously devoted fans—who kept showing up to get familiar with him—preaching with a “Holy Scripture” in the slums, taking advantage of the post-disaster unrest.

Ranen: 6 ^[2] An expression of Ranen’s reaction—akin to a meme or shorthand for confusion, disbelief, or exasperation.

Ranen: … Wait a sec, what’s with that last one? Since when did he have a holy scripture?