Content Warning: The following chapter contains graphic and disturbing scenes that may be distressing to some readers. This includes intense horror elements and unsettling imagery. Reader discretion is advised.

[Vigilante Justice]

“I suggest we start with this man.” Edie pointed at the figure on the screen.  

“Why?”  

“First, based on the intel we’ve gathered, Black Poker appears to be a subordinate organization of the Secret Church. It’s likely responsible for handling some of the church’s more unsavory dealings, meaning our chances of obtaining valuable information from them are much higher than elsewhere.  

Second, Black Poker’s current leader, Karens, only rose to power after the banquet incident. Given the circumstances, there’s a strong reason to suspect that he secured his position by aligning himself with the cult.  

In other words, the probability that Karens is a high-ranking member of the Secret Church is very high.”

“Lastly, and most importantly, he’s a bad person. He’s facing at least three murder charges, over a dozen counts of robbery and physical threats, and more than fifty cases related to loan sharking,” Edie said. “He should meet the criteria for us to use that thing.”  

Dana agreed with Edie’s assessment. “We’ve had no progress in the investigation these past few days, and the higher-ups are getting impatient.”  

In the end, Job made his decision. “Alright, we’ll start with him. Edie, I’ll leave it to you.”  

“No problem.” Edie flashed a confident smile, stretched, and placed both hands on the keyboard.  

Origin Ability—[Cyber Phantom]  

“Let’s see where this guy is right now.”  

…  

Exhausted, Karens returned to one of Black Poker’s top-floor strongholds in an office building. As he stepped inside, he casually shut the door behind him, loosened his tie, and let out a slow breath.  

“…I’m dead tired.”  

The end of Arkham City’s disaster also marked the beginning of new opportunities. There were no true winners in this incident, but Black Poker had reacted the fastest and provided the quickest support (courtesy of the players), earning a solid reputation in nearby districts (by opening free underground clinics). They had also absorbed several struggling gangs, expanding their territory even further.  

At the same time, Karens had taken this chance to cut loose the black-market industries that might upset the players. Now, Black Poker’s main sources of income were limited to protection rackets, loan sharking, and turf wars.  

…Oh, and maybe in the future, running underground clinics and operating illegal transport services could become additional revenue streams, though whether they’d be profitable was still up for debate.  

However, with such rapid territorial expansion, securing a stable cash flow had become a major concern. Lately, Karens had been busy finding new ways to generate income.  

All in all, though, Black Poker had suffered no losses in this disaster—in fact, they had made a small profit.  

Karens was pondering when to report his work progress to Ranen.  

Ever since the establishment of the Secret Church and Black Poker’s official recognition by Ranen, Karens had wanted to request extraordinary power from him—just like that clown disciple. But since he hadn’t yet achieved any notable accomplishments, he felt too embarrassed to ask. So, he had been putting it off until now.  

Once Black Poker fully digested the benefits from this expansion, he would finally have a good reason to seek Ranen’s reward…  

Karens sat back in his office chair, unfastened his suit, and allowed himself a brief moment of relaxation. Just then, a knock came from the door.  

Karens frowned and opened his eyes, displeased. “Didn’t I say not to bother me?”  

The knocking paused for a moment. Karens assumed the subordinate had left, but the next second, the doorknob turned downward, and the door was pushed open.  

Strangers.  

Karens’s eyes widened in shock. He immediately reached for his gun and aimed at them, but before he could react, an immense force slammed him onto the desk.  

What is this? How is it so fast?!  

He hadn’t even seen the attack—his gun was knocked away in an instant, and he himself was completely overpowered.  

A superhuman!

The term flashed through Karens’s mind.

“Sorry for the rudeness, current leader of Black Poker.”

Karens lifted his eyes with difficulty and saw a blond man walk up to the desk. The man pulled out a badge from his coat and flashed it in front of him. “My name is Job Gage, an investigator from the Inspection Bureau.”

The Inspection Bureau…

Karens had heard of this term before. It seemed to be an official organization of investigators. After he took over the legacy of the previous Black Poker leader, he discovered that the former leader had once tried to contact the Inspection Bureau for help. Of course, the outcome was obvious—he had died in the manor long before any assistance arrived.

But since it was an official organization, they should at least follow some rules, right? What Karens feared most were those transcendents who killed without a word.

Karens managed to calm himself, relaxing his body, as he said, “I don’t know why you’re all here, but could you release me first? You should be able to tell I don’t have the strength to resist you.”

Job glanced at Edie, who lowered his head to check the mechanical watch on his wrist. The dial pointed to “ordinary.” Edie nodded, “He’s just a normal person.”

Dana added, “There are signs of training, but that’s it.”

A normal person? Not one of them? Job frowned slightly. “Alright, let him go, Mr. Karens. I hope you’ll prove to be a smart man.”

Karens was released and immediately turned to look behind him. To his surprise, the one who had restrained him was a woman. But he didn’t underestimate her because of her gender—transcendents couldn’t be judged by ordinary standards.

Karens didn’t try to pick up the handgun on the floor or reach for any other weapons in the office. Even though he had been overpowered in his own domain, he maintained the demeanor expected of a leader and gestured for them to sit on the sofa.

“Esteemed investigators, may I know what brings you to me…?”

“Don’t play dumb. You should know why we’re here,” Edie sneered, slapping the glass table in the center of the sofa. “Spill everything about your dealings with the cult.”

Karens’s heart sank, though he kept his expression steady. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Is there any point in playing dumb now?” Edie said. “We came here because we already have solid evidence.”

Karens replied, “I don’t know what evidence you’re referring to. And even if I were religious, that wouldn’t violate any laws, would it? If you want to arrest me, you’d need a warrant first.”

“I knew trash like you wouldn’t give in easily,” Edie scoffed, turning to Job. “Boss, no use hoping for a fluke. Let’s just use it.”

“I really didn’t want to resort to this if I could help it,” Job sighed. But there was no other way. Breaking through the gang’s heavy defenses to reach this point hadn’t been easy. The Inspection Bureau was desperate for progress on this mission, and they had gone to great lengths—using Edie’s origin ability to find the opportunity when Karens was alone. Even then, they had less than ten minutes.

Although Job didn’t fully trust the intelligence from that group ^[1]Starwatch Team, he decided to play it safe this time. He didn’t bring Edmund along for this operation and left Eunice at the base to keep an eye on him. With their current manpower severely limited, capturing Karens alive wasn’t an option.

And if they missed this opportunity, Karens might never show himself again.

He looked at Karens. “It seems you don’t know much about the Inspection Bureau. We’re not your typical rule-abiding police. When necessary, we’re perfectly willing to use some less-than-legal methods. Are you sure you want to keep playing tough?”

A sense of danger rose in Karens’s chest. This group seemed ready to resort to vigilante justice. Without showing any reaction, he lowered his hand and pressed a hidden button in his pants pocket. Soon, people from the other strongholds would receive the danger signal and rush over.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

When it came to the Secret Church and Ranen, Karens had no intention of saying a single word. He was deeply tied to the Secret Church now. Having boarded this ship, he was fully prepared to sink with it into the sea.

This wasn’t just about loyalty. In their line of work, no one understood the cost of betrayal better than he did—especially when the one being betrayed was an evil god.

Seeing that Karens wouldn’t easily give up the information they wanted, Job sighed and pulled something out of his backpack.

As the cloth wrapping was gradually removed, everyone who saw the object couldn’t help but show repulsion and disgust.

It was something resembling a helmet, but where the interior should have been smooth, countless thin, needle-like tendrils protruded. These needles were alive—wriggling like earthworms the moment they were exposed to the air. At the front of the helmet, a single eye emerged, its eyeball swiveling in the air.

“The Truth Helmet, classified as a pollutant,” Job explained softly. “Once you put it on, those needle-like tendrils will gradually burrow into your skull. The more you resist telling the truth, the deeper they dig—until they reach your brain. These special worm-like things will gnaw at your brain matter, manipulate your nerves, and eventually break you completely, body and mind.”

The pollutant’s true purpose was actually to turn people into obedient puppets. But later, an investigator discovered an alternative use: interrogation.

Of course, the Inspection Bureau had regulations—at least on the surface—that prohibited its unauthorized use on innocent people. Only criminals could be subjected to it.

Karens’s pupils shrank. Before he could resist, Dana subdued him again, forcing the helmet onto his head.

The moment that terrifying helmet was placed on him, Karens’s entire head went numb—not psychologically, but physically, as if he’d been injected with an anesthetic. He didn’t feel much pain, but he could sense something burrowing into his scalp.

The sensation was utterly chilling.

“So far, no one has lasted more than ten minutes with the Truth Helmet on,” Job said. “So let’s start the questioning, Karens. You still have a chance. Just answer our questions properly—have you joined the Secret Church?”

Karens sneered but didn’t respond. Suddenly, the things burrowing into his scalp began to move. A massive wave of pain surged from his skull. The numbness vanished abruptly, and he could clearly feel something drilling deeper into his head.

He clenched his lips tightly, refusing to let out a pathetic scream.

“As long as you don’t answer, those things will keep digging deeper. For the first ten minutes of the first stage, you’ll experience unbearable pain—far beyond what any human can endure,” Edie said ‘kindly.’ “Stop struggling and just spit it out. It’ll feel better.”

Job said coldly, “We can already tell the answer to the last question from your reaction. Next one.”

“That man, Ranen, who once went to the police station—is he an incarnation of the god worshipped by the Secret Church?”

Karens still didn’t speak. The pain was so intense he could no longer control his facial expressions. His muscles twitched uncontrollably, his body trembled, and blood seeped from the corner of his mouth where he’d bitten through his lip.

Unable to bear the excruciating pain any longer, the man began to thrash wildly. Startled, Dana exerted even more strength to restrain him, but for some unknown reason, an even greater force erupted from his body. Though he couldn’t break free from Dana’s hold, he frantically slammed his head against the glass table in front of him, shattering it in just a few blows.

“Get the rope!” Dana shouted while pinning Karens’s body down. Edie quickly moved, using hemp rope to tie Karens to the chair.

By now, Karens’s forehead was gashed open, and a beast-like wail escaped his throat. His blood-soaked forehead bulged with worm-like ridges, as if something was burrowing into his brain.

The horrific sight made Job and Dana instinctively avert their eyes. Edie did the same, but he soon forced himself to look back, biting his lip as he said, “C-level pollutants are, in principle, only to be used on confirmed heinous criminals. Karens, your past criminal record should’ve landed you in prison countless times by now. But this time, there are no procedures to shield your crimes. You can’t escape this. If you give us the information, you might still live.”

Karens still didn’t utter a single word. Even Edie and Job, who had reviewed his criminal record and held an utterly deplorable impression of him, began to feel a grudging respect for the man. The Inspection Bureau had tested this device before—even the most ruthless death row inmates couldn’t endure it for more than ten minutes. It wasn’t just the pain; it was the lethal terror of feeling worms crawling inside your skull. Even the toughest couldn’t withstand such hellish torment.

But enduring it was pointless.

Job sighed, a trace of pity in his voice. “Even if you tough it out, it’s useless. After ten minutes, the Truth Helmet enters its next phase, invading your brain matter and nerves. At that point, whether you want to or not, you’ll be unable to stop yourself from spilling the truth. By then, it’ll be too late. We’ll get the information we want, and your brain will be gradually devoured by those worms. Why put yourself through this?”

“This is your last chance. Just tell us about the church you’re part of and what really happened at that banquet, and we won’t do anything to you.”

Karens hung his head and suddenly let out a low chuckle.

“What are you laughing at?”

“Laughing? I’m laughing because even when you do bad things, you’re all full of hypocrisy and disgust.”

“Hypocrisy?” Edie laughed in anger, pointing at Karens. “If it weren’t for us charging into the fray, scum like you wouldn’t even have the chance to sit back and enjoy yourselves.”

“Oh yes, the great heroes charging ahead,” Karens rasped mockingly. “Then tell me, where were you when Arkham City fell apart? Did you save Arkham?”

“When I was out there killing monsters, your so-called official organization didn’t even fart. After it was over, you stepped on my head and called me a villain who deserves justice’s judgment. Don’t make me laugh too hard. What, can’t you do anything without waving your banner of righteousness!?”

“Threats are threats, and vigilante justice is vigilante justice. Why babble about trials and sins? Is it to comfort yourselves? Huh? Do you go home at night and have nightmares about ghosts coming for your lives!?”

“I know full well I’m a bad guy, but what about you? Is the Inspection Bureau inherently good? What gives you the right to judge me?” Karens raised his head, his face twisted like a demon from hell:

“Remember this: we in Black Poker have a code—an eye for an eye… blood for blood!”

With his final words, Karens practically spat each syllable from his throat, his eyes locked onto the three faces before him as if etching them into his memory.

Then, he bit down hard on his back gums, swallowing the poison he’d hidden in his molar.

As his throat moved, Dana reacted swiftly, grabbing his neck, but it was too late. Karens had already swallowed the dose. Blood spilled from his mouth as he grinned savagely at them, as if to say he wouldn’t let them go even in hell.

Moments later, his body convulsed briefly, his face slowly stiffened, and he slumped motionless in the chair.

“…He poisoned himself?” Edie’s expression was grim.

Job didn’t speak, his emotions tangled. They’d encountered situations like this before, but the psychological burden of driving someone to death wasn’t easy to shake off.

Dana released Karens and went to remove the Truth Helmet. Perhaps sensing the host’s fading life force, the helmet came off easily.

“Why wouldn’t he talk? He shouldn’t even be a high-ranking member of the church, right?” Edie couldn’t understand. Their prior investigation had largely confirmed that Black Poker’s leader was tied to the Secret Church. They’d been excited, thinking they’d hooked a big fish, but seeing Karens today was a letdown. Using Job’s artifact, they’d determined he wasn’t a transcendent—just an ordinary human.

In past investigations of strange incidents, they’d encountered people like this—either deceived or knowingly complicit in cult schemes for personal gain, acting as pawns for evil.

They’d pegged Karens as one of these opportunists, the type usually easiest to crack during interrogation. Yet today’s outcome felt like a slap in the face.

“Get ready,” Job finally said, rubbing his temples. “A church that can inspire this kind of loyalty even in a non-core member is no small fry… We might’ve hit the jackpot after all.”

Initially, Job and his team hadn’t taken the Secret Church, as mentioned by Destiny is in My Hands, too seriously. But Karens’s display just now had sounded a clear alarm.

“You two search for clues here. I’ll check on the situation outside.”

Job pressed his Bluetooth earpiece to contact Destiny is in My Hands. The other end erupted with intense gunfire, sounds of fighting, and Destiny is in My Hands shouting frantically.

“Have you finished the interrogation yet? We can’t hold out much longer!”

The Starwatch Squad was on the verge of tears. They’d thought hitching themselves to the Inspection Bureau’s coattails would let them coast, but why were they the ones stuck on the front lines now?!

They weren’t high-level, and despite the gear provided by their guild, there was no way they could take on so many gang members!

“Soon—hang in there a bit longer. We’ll come reinforce you shortly,” Job said, glancing at Dana and Edie. “Let’s move.”

“Wait, almost done copying.” Edie’s hands blurred across the keyboard. Once the computer files were copied, he yanked out the USB drive. Job took one last complex look at Karens’s body slumped on the floor before turning to leave.

What he couldn’t see was that five minutes after he left, Karens’s “corpse” twitched, gradually revealing faint, labored breathing.

The fake-death drug in his mouth was his last resort. After all these years, he never imagined it would actually come in handy.

But Karens wasn’t in good shape either. He could feel his extreme weakness, teetering on the edge of death at any moment. His subordinates hadn’t come earlier, and he doubted they’d come now.

That left him with only one final option for help.

“The… the Overturner of Fate…” Karens’s voice was hoarse and faint, barely a whisper, pausing to gasp after every couple of words. “The Unspeakable Mystery… the New Lord of Nature and the Forest.”

Lord Ranen…

He hadn’t betrayed him. It wasn’t that Karens was particularly loyal to Ranen, but he had already performed the rite of allegiance to him. Compared to these investigators he despised, he’d rather take a gamble.

As his consciousness slowly surfaced and a mist began to envelop him, Karens struggled to curl the corner of his lips into a faint smile.

He’d won the bet.

The mist gradually shrouded his form, and in the end, his entire body appeared in the Ranen’s divine kingdom.

Ranen was utterly dumbfounded.

What is going on?

Seeing Karens appear in the divine kingdom on the brink of death left Ranen completely baffled. With an instinctive wave of his hand, the surrounding plants obeyed Ranen’s command, weaving together beneath Karens into a makeshift sickbed. At the same time, Ranen summoned Arkham’s medical personnel.

Ogre stepped forward, took one look, and shook his head. “Modern medicine can’t save him.”

“That bad??”

“The problem’s in his brain,” Ogre explained. “It’s like something burrowed into it and damaged the inside. And whatever got in there was likely a pollutant. Even ordinary exposure to such pollutants can lead to mutations, let alone direct contact with the brain. If he weren’t your follower, he might’ve already turned into a ghoul by now.”

“So, is there still a way to save him?” Ranen frowned deeply. What had Karens gone through to end up like this?

“I’m not skilled at healing, but you might be able to try,” Ogre said after a moment’s thought. “How about using your Seed of Spirituality?”

“? Would that work?”

“His brain’s been contaminated, and his soul might already be corroded. It’s the only option left.”

Ranen nodded. Soon, a staff appeared in his hand, and a faint, illusory seed dropped from it, landing on Karens’s head.

The seed merged into Karens’s brain as if it encountered no resistance at all.

At this moment, Karens was completely unaware of the outside world, lost in a flood of past memories.

So, the online stories about a “life flashing before your eyes” before death were actually true.

Karens found it strange, though, because he didn’t think his past held anything worth clinging to.

Like most gang members, Karens had been born in the chaotic district ruled by Black Poker. He’d only attended community elementary and middle school, dropping out in his third year of middle school.

His grades had been good. A few teachers with a shred of conscience had even offered to recommend him for a high school outside the district. But Karens wasn’t interested—not because he disliked studying, but because he knew where he belonged.

Besides, his shitty family situation didn’t allow him to continue his education. So, at a young age, Karens followed in the footsteps of his gangster father, becoming a fresh piece of societal trash.

Unlike most of that trash, though, Karens had a sharp mind. He was ruthless enough and principled enough. Starting as a lowlife thug, he rose through the ranks. He knew dupin ^[2] “dupin” (毒品) means drugs, specifically, narcotic drugs would destroy a person’s will, so he never touched the stuff and forbade his favored subordinates from using it either. He was generous, never hoarding the benefits for himself, and so it was only natural that he eventually thrived within Black Poker.

But he had no purpose.

It was as if he were alive just for the sake of living. The joy brought by money and status quickly wore off. He didn’t know what he was supposed to protect. Very little belonged to him—family and friends had long since left him.

A moldy piece of bread, an old wallet with no money, and a shelter just for sleeping—these were enough to keep him going. Having more was nice, but he could live without it.

The leader of Black Poker saw through Karens’s aimlessness. He took a liking to the young man and wanted him as a right-hand man. One day, he invited Karens into his room for a heart-to-heart.

Karens spoke honestly about his confusion. He lived without a destination, without ambition.

Hearing this, the Black Poker leader burst into hearty laughter.

“Then why not claim the entirety of Arkham City as your own? That’s big enough, isn’t it? Everything you could ever achieve is right here—your past, your present, your future.”

The leader took a puff of his cigar, filling the room with swirling smoke.

“If there were no Arkham, you’d be nothing. This city gave birth to you, raised you, and every trace of your existence is etched here, proving you once walked this world.”

“Take root and grow in this city. See if you’ll become a weed, a vine, or perhaps… a towering tree that can shelter the city’s underbelly.”

The seed took root and sprouted in Karens’s mind.

Like a net, it gradually enveloped his cooling soul. Karens suddenly felt a pang of fear, as if something were about to seize him—afraid to stay, yet afraid to leave.

In the end, though, Karens suppressed his fear, allowing that strange thing to settle into his brain, repairing his frail body.

At the same time, the scene before his eyes shifted abruptly. He found himself in a wondrous space, shrouded in mist. He stood on a small platform, gazing around in confusion.

Where… is this?

Karens scanned his surroundings. There was truly nothing here—beneath the platform stretched an endless abyss, with only a staircase leading downward.

Wait a minute. Why is he here? He should’ve been…

Karens recalled what had happened—the Inspection Bureau, his near-death experience. Overwhelmed by a surge of emotions, he snapped his eyes open.

“Good, you’re still alive.”

Ranen looked down at Karens, who had just opened his eyes, and said with relief, “I was worried you wouldn’t wake up.”

The situation earlier had been dire. Ogre had warned that if Karens didn’t wake up soon, he might end up a vegetative state.

“Lord Ranen…” Karens stared blankly at the mesmerizing face so close to him, momentarily losing himself as he gawked at Ranen—until Ogre, standing silently nearby, gave him a sharp pinch.

Whether intentional or not, Ogre’s pinch landed right on a bruise left from Dana’s earlier restraint. Karens’s face twisted in pain, instantly snapping him back to reality.

“Lord Ranen, did you save me? Where am I?” Karens tried to step down from the branch-woven cot. His body felt fine, just unusually stiff—like he’d been lying still for three days straight. He could almost hear his joints creaking as he moved.

The surroundings were strange too—like a forest, with gaps between the plants revealing what looked like hospital buildings.

“This is my divine kingdom. I’ll be staying here for the time being,” Ranen explained. “But you—what happened to you? You were almost beyond saving.”

If Ranen hadn’t heard that feeble prayer and noticed the white light representing his follower dimming nearly to nothing, prompting him to transfer Karens here immediately, even a second later might’ve been too late—Karens would’ve been done for.

“Thank you for saving me,” Karens said hurriedly. He cast a curious glance at Ogre but didn’t ask who he was. Instead, he turned urgently to Ranen. “The Inspection Bureau came after me. I nearly died at their hands.”

Ranen: ? The Inspection Bureau is that ruthless?

Karens quickly recounted everything that had happened, emphasizing that they knew about Black Poker’s ties to the Secret Church and that they had a clear target—they were coming for Ranen.

Hearing this, Ranen recalled Edmund’s earlier warning and pieced together how the information had likely leaked.

“I see. I was just about to warn you to be cautious of the Inspection Bureau, but I didn’t expect them to show up at your door so soon.”

Ranen wasn’t surprised that the players had leaked details about the Secret Church. From the start, he knew it was impossible to keep it under wraps—not with over 5,000 players involved. The information was bound to slip out.

What he hadn’t anticipated was that the Inspection Bureau would target Black Poker first. He’d assumed they’d go after the Kamui District instead, which was why he’d assigned patrol tasks to the players there. Yet, it was Black Poker that got hit.

Moreover, the Inspection Bureau’s extreme methods this time exceeded Ranen’s expectations. Why were they in such a rush?

But since it had already happened, dwelling on it was pointless. Ranen had originally planned to stall until the next version update, waiting for the players’ strength to grow further before facing off against the Inspection Bureau head-on. However, things rarely went as smoothly as planned.

Karens’s near-death experience shattered any lingering hope Ranen had of avoiding conflict. Confronting the Inspection Bureau was now inevitable—the situation had reached a point of no return.

Karens’s suffering this time was an undeserved disaster caused entirely by his connection to Ranen. And this might just be the beginning, not the end.

“What do you think?” Ranen asked. “Do you want revenge?”

“Yes!” Karens answered without hesitation, his hanging hand clenching into a fist so tight his nails nearly dug into his flesh.

In the world of gangs, gratitude was repaid with gratitude, and vengeance with vengeance. Having nearly been tortured to death, how could Karens not want payback?

Not only did he want revenge—he wanted to exact it with his own hands.

Under Ranen’s surprised gaze, Karens dropped to one knee. “My Lord, please grant me transcendent power. I want to take my revenge personally.”

Grant power… How is he supposed to do that?

Ranen nearly broke out in a sweat. Uh, well, all he could offer were enchanted weapons and potions, right?

Now that he thought about it, in the tabletop games he used to play, evil gods could indeed bestow power on their followers. But how was that done? He had no clue.

No, no, stay calm. When Karens talked about the power for revenge, it didn’t necessarily have to mean that.

Ranen said meaningfully, “The power for revenge—you already have it.” Brother, think about the players.

“You mean…” Karens recalled the misty space he’d seen earlier and murmured, “That misty place I went to before—was that the path to transcendence?”

Ranen paused for a second. “…Yes, exactly. As long as you descend from the platform, break through the maddening mist, and reach the next level to complete the trial, you’ll officially gain transcendent power.”

He’d almost forgotten that Karens hadn’t yet entered the Dream Rift.

But just clearing the first level of the Dream Rift wouldn’t be nearly enough for revenge. Based on Edmund’s earlier intel, at least one member of that Inspection Bureau team was on a higher level than Edmund. That meant a freshly transcendent Karens would be walking into a slaughter.

No worries, though—Ranen had never intended for a one-on-one fight.

It is time for a righteous group beatdown!

“However…” Ranen continued, “you don’t have much time. In three days at most, the Secret Church will launch a full-scale assault on the Inspection squad. If you want to take your revenge personally, you’ll need to break through the first level within that time. Otherwise, I won’t let you go to the front lines.”

At this, Karens looked up in shock. “Y-You’re going to confront the Inspection Bureau… for me?”

“They’ve already slapped me in the face,” Ranen said matter-of-factly. “Even by your gang’s standards, wouldn’t it be rude not to hit back?”

Ranen had already made up his mind. Though the players’ strength wasn’t yet at its peak—and the Inspection Bureau storyline was a major late-game arc—Arkham City wasn’t the Bureau’s headquarters either.

Though a direct confrontation might not guarantee victory, they could absolutely stage a small-scale faction war!

It’d be the perfect chance to clash with this so-called elite Inspection Bureau squad and see how their forces stacked up.

Karens didn’t know Ranen’s full plan, but in this moment, he was genuinely moved.

Loyalty and honor had always been the ideals of gang life, but since taking the leadership role, few had been in a position to stand up for Karens anymore. Even within a gang, no one would retaliate against the police just because a subordinate got nabbed.

Yet here was Ranen, willing to take on the Inspection Bureau for him!

If this were the younger Karens, fresh into the gang, he might’ve sworn brotherhood with Ranen on the spot, bound by life and death.

Karens had never imagined Ranen would go this far for him. Before, he’d looked at those devotees and thought them fools—worshipping a statue that never responded, one that demanded devotion without ever giving anything in return. What kind of idiot does that?

But now, he was ready to become that idiot.

“I’ll break through to the first level within three days,” Karens declared fiercely, issuing a solemn vow before Ranen. “If I fail, I’ll accept any punishment you deem fit. But if I succeed, I hope you’ll let me lead this revenge operation. I’ll make them taste the pain they put me through and ensure they regret ever crossing you.”

Ranen gazed at Karens intently. “Very well.”