Warning: This chapter contains scenes of violence that may be disturbing to some readers. Reader discretion is advised.

[Is he really that scary-looking?]

Hard to describe the feeling—Ranen had merely formed a thought, and the dream responded.

When he opened his eyes again, the environment had already changed. Gone was the hospital in the divine kingdom; now he stood in a familiar apartment building.

This is… the place where Archie lived as a child?

Compared to the apartment complex they’d visited before, this one looked newer. At the very least, the white walls weren’t covered in creeping vines, and the tiles weren’t cracked. The clothing worn by passersby around them now seemed outdated to Ranen’s current eyes.

Just then, a gust of wind swept past Ranen. He turned his head and saw a blond little boy run by.

The key point was… his features looked a lot like a young Albert.

Ranen called out tentatively, “Hey, Albert?”

The boy didn’t respond and ran into the apartment like a gust of wind. Ranen hesitated for a moment, then remembered this might be something like a subconscious realm or a spiritual world. So he lifted his foot and followed.

A very familiar-looking apartment manager lay drunkenly slumped at the front desk. Ranen glanced at him but didn’t pause, just continued after Albert up the stairs.

The boy didn’t seem to notice the stranger tailing him—or maybe he couldn’t notice?

To test his theory, Ranen sped up and tried to grab the corner of young Albert’s shirt.

He failed.

His fingers passed right through the fabric. He stood still, watching Albert dash up the stairs, then looked down at his own hand.

In that instant just now, his fingers had turned ghostly and transparent. Does that mean he is like a ghost now? Or is it because he doesn’t exist in Albert’s memory, and therefore can’t influence events already fixed in that memory?

Ranen needed more clues.

He stepped forward again to follow Albert up the stairs. He had a feeling about what was coming next.

Sure enough, Albert rushed up the creaking stairs to the third floor. One of the doors in the hallway was already open, and Archie—or rather, a noticeably smaller version of Archie—stood at the threshold watching them, a small smile curling his lips. “Albert…”

Hiss—Did Archie really used to smile like that when he was a kid?

Ranen’s eyes widened slightly as he instinctively committed this rare sight to memory. Young Archie still had a bit of baby fat softening his otherwise sharp adult features. His eyes were rounder too, and when he smiled… he was absurdly adorable.

Crap. He has just unlocked the charm of teen boys—now how is he supposed to face adult Archie again?

Clutching his chest in mock agony, Ranen was baffled. What could’ve possibly happened to make Archie grow into such a cold, aloof adult?

The two boys chatted and laughed as they walked into the room. Ranen followed, and sure enough, they acted like he wasn’t even there.

“Archie, I’m telling you, everything in that notebook was real!” Albert said excitedly the moment the door shut behind them. “I actually entered that fog-filled dimension—the stuff in that notebook wasn’t a lie!”

Archie’s smile faltered slightly. He lowered his head and said, “You… you actually tried it.”

Seeing the complicated look on Archie’s face, Albert placed both hands solemnly on his shoulders and said seriously, “What if your dad didn’t abandon you guys on purpose? What if he had something really important to do—like, spy-level important. Like those agents on TV who have to go underground.”

“Really?” Archie murmured. “But everyone around us says he stirred up trouble outside, and ran off with money to avoid revenge.”

“Don’t believe those people! Isn’t that notebook proof? There’s gotta be something more to this!” Albert insisted. “I swear I’ll find the truth—and shut them all up.”

Archie looked up. “Thanks, Albert. You’re the only one who believes me.”

Leaning against the wall, Ranen blinked. Tsk tsk, so this is what youth looks like, huh? No wonder people call Albert Archie’s white moonlight…

The promises and dreams of youth really do seem pure and beautiful when viewed through adult eyes.

The two boys poured over the notebook Archie’s father had left behind. To boys their age, powers and superhuman stuff had an undeniable allure. By the time they looked up again, the sky outside had already gone dark.

Albert got up to leave, taking the notebook with him, saying he wanted to study it more. Archie didn’t object at all. On the way back, Ranen trailed behind him, thinking—this might’ve been the moment Albert started to doubt Archie’s father’s identity. And maybe that doubt was what led him to join the Bureau later in life.

Thinking of it that way, it was actually kind of romantic—trying to uncover the truth for the sake of a cherished friend…

But that warm thought was crushed the moment Ranen saw what came next.

He stared, stunned, at the room filled with clues. On the whiteboard in front of the window, there were photos of Archie’s father plastered everywhere, with red and black lines connecting different locations marking his movements.

Most of the photos looked like they were taken in secret. Some showed him seemingly attending church events, others entering or exiting mysterious clubs and venues.

In the very center of the board was even a photo of Soren and Charlie Hayes together. In the picture, Soren’s gaze seemed to be subtly directed toward the camera—as if he might have realized someone was secretly taking photos.

Well, damn.

Ranen glanced over at Albert, who was scribbling furiously at his desk. This had nothing to do with some vague “turning point.” Is Albert this gutsy as a kid??

Unable to resist, Ranen walked over to the desk to peek at what Albert was writing.

[[November 20] – Third month since Charlie Hayes went missing. Still no solid leads. Based on the clues found around Archie’s home, the estimated disappearance date is around September 5. Around that time, someone left a message in the nearby neighborhood saying they saw a group of suspicious men in black following Archie’s father into an alleyway.]

He had circled the words “men in black”, and after pondering for a moment, got up and sat at the computer to continue searching.

Ranen, curious, took Albert’s previous seat and glanced over the notes.

Men in black…

Ah, this incident involving Archie’s father—he’d already dug this deep?

Ranen stared in shock at Albert typing away at the keyboard, then thought for a moment and flipped back a few pages in the notebook.

It was practically a full-on investigation log. On the very first page, Albert had written his grand mission statement.

He wanted to uncover the criminal activities behind Charlie Hayes’s organization and report the cult to the police. That way, Archie’s father wouldn’t always be away from home anymore.

Ranen: …

Albert surviving to adulthood was honestly a miracle.

Flipping further, Ranen realized Albert’s determination wasn’t just talk. The notebook recorded activity logs from “The Outsider”—their recruitment times, meeting locations, and so on. While the investigative methods were a bit immature, it was clear the work was being carried out with dedication and consistency.

Still… Albert wasn’t tailing some average person. Wouldn’t that guy—Charlie—have noticed?

Ranen flipped a few more pages, and suddenly, the notes stopped.

[Got caught by Archie’s dad. All clues lost. And he told my parents about it qwq]

[But it’s weird. Why didn’t Charlie do anything to me? He even gave the notebook back. Nothing was erased. In fact, there was a new line of writing.]

Writing…?

Ranen quickly turned to the back of the notebook. Sure enough, there was a line in handwriting completely different from Albert’s—heavier, stronger strokes. It was a string of English letters, but their meaning was unclear.

Meanwhile, at the desk, Albert slapped the table in frustration, drawing Ranen’s attention back. He noticed Albert’s browsing history was full of terms like “The Outsider,” “special police,” “mysterious disappearances” and the like.

He didn’t find anything? Well, that was only to be expected—after all, everything related to the other world was hosted on a special website…

The next moment, Albert, who had been frustrated in front of the computer, suddenly stood up, grabbed the notebook from the desk and flipped through it again. Then, as if something had clicked, he took out Charlie Hayes’s notebook that he’d gotten from Archie and began cross-referencing the page numbers.

“This is a cipher?” Albert muttered, picking up a pen to start writing on the side.

Ranen: ?

He walked over to Albert, who remained completely unaware of the extra person by his side, head down and fully focused on deciphering the string of mysterious letters Charlie Hayes had left in his notes.

An hour later, Albert excitedly typed the letters he’d decoded into the browser’s address bar.

[Welcome to the truth of the world!]

As the website loaded, Ranen softly repeated the phrase.

Albert had actually managed to access the internal network of this world—the very same one Ranen had once logged into. And he’d found it through the information Charlie Hayes left behind.

But why had Charlie left such a message in the first place?

Ranen recalled the diary he’d read that held Charlie’s deepest secrets. From the contents, it was clear that Charlie had been a classic investigator: principled, restrained, and willing to give up things in pursuit of a greater goal.

And someone like that… really resembled Albert.

Was it because he’d seen himself in Albert? Psychologically speaking, humans are deeply empathetic creatures. Through empathy, one can vividly understand another’s feelings and the reasons behind their actions. Therapists, for example, use their empathy to convey meaningful insights by stepping into the shoes of those they counsel.

Perhaps Charlie Hayes had recognized the investigator’s potential in this young boy. That’s why he left behind the seemingly meaningless string of letters in the notebook.

But it wasn’t a direct link—it had to be pieced together using the contents of the notebook. Which meant… he was assuming that if Albert ever saw this, it would only be after he himself was gone.

Ranen tried thinking from Charlie’s perspective: if he encountered a young boy who was a reflection of his own past, investigating secrets darker than he could imagine—then as a responsible investigator, his first instinct would be to stop the boy.

But Charlie also knew that what he was doing was incredibly dangerous. If one day he died unexpectedly, and this boy continued the same path due to his talent and curiosity, he might end up being targeted by “The Outsider” too.

In that case, the only way to protect him… was to guide him toward the Investigation Bureau and help him gain some protection.

Wait a minute—at this point in time, did Charlie Hayes already know something was wrong inside the Inspection Bureau, but still chose to continue investigating?

Young Albert was staring excitedly at the new world that had opened up in front of him. The website he’d just accessed was filled with bizarre content—at first glance, it looked like he’d stumbled into a hub for delusional conspiracy theorists. There were posts about magical potions, spells, supernatural powers—anything and everything imaginable.

After hesitating for a moment, Albert tried to write a new post:

[Does anyone know about the “Special Police”?]

His finger hovered over the Enter key. He was just about to send it when he suddenly froze.

Ranen stood behind him, watching curiously as the boy’s spine went stiff—as if he were seeing something unbelievable through the computer screen.

“Um, I’ll go use the bathroom first.” Albert stood up casually, grabbing his phone off the desk as he walked toward the door.

Ranen didn’t feel the need to follow him to the bathroom, so he stayed where he was.

But what he didn’t see was that Albert, walking away with his back to Ranen, was starting to tremble, his face pale and etched with terror.

He saw the terrifying figure standing right behind him.

It wore attire like something out of a Western oil painting—an aristocratic waistcoat accentuating a slender figure—but from the neck up, it was completely shrouded in mist.

What is that? What is that? What is that?!

Albert had nearly fallen over backward in fright the moment he noticed the reflection on his monitor. But that thing—whatever it was—was standing directly behind him, so he gritted his teeth and forced himself to act normal, even though he was shaking so hard his teeth were chattering.

It’s okay. It doesn’t follow him. It is still standing there.

Albert took a deep breath and forced himself to walk to the door, trying to act casual.

Just a few more steps. He’ll be able to call for help soon. Thankfully, his parents aren’t home today. As long as he can get out of this room—

His hand touched the doorknob. The creature behind him hadn’t moved. Albert felt a bit of relief and quickly twisted the handle, rushing to escape this nightmarish space—

*SWISH—*

Outside the door, a butcher with a pig’s head and a human body was waiting, bloodstained axe raised high. In Albert’s stunned gaze, the axe came crashing down!

Just as the golden-haired boy’s expression froze in terror, a strong hand grabbed the back of his collar and yanked him backward.

Ranen had reacted in a flash, pulling Albert out of the axe’s path just in time.

D-level Anomaly: Paradise Butcher!

Ranen was just about to summon his staff—when his expression abruptly changed.

He couldn’t feel his connection to the Dream Rift anymore. Whether it was the dice, the bell, the staff, or even the abilities of other believers—none of them worked here. It was like everything had gone dead.

He felt like he’d returned to the time when he was weakest and most powerless.

The Paradise Butcher was a monstrous creature with a pig’s head and a human body—only the human body was abnormally muscular, easily standing 1.5 meters tall, with arms thicker than Ranen’s thighs. After missing its first strike, its blood-red eyes scanned the room, its greedy gaze darting back and forth between Albert and Ranen like it was choosing which prey to tear apart.

Sweat gathered in Ranen’s palms. The killing intent radiating from the monster was overwhelming—there was no doubt in his mind.

It was sizing up its next kill.

But with nothing on him now—could he really defeat a D-level anomaly?

Just as Ranen was drowning in self-doubt, he suddenly noticed Albert had broken free from his grip. There was terror in the boy’s eyes, but also a fierce determination as he took a few steps back and then charged straight toward the fruit knife on the desk.

Damn it!

Sure enough, the very moment Albert moved, the Paradise Butcher—who had been standing still as though choosing its prey—locked its blood-red eyes onto him. Its hulking form surged forward, filling the entire room in an instant. In a single stride, it closed the two-meter gap, then lifted its thick leg and slammed it straight into Albert’s stomach!

“Urgh!” Albert’s body folded like a bow, a mix of blood and spit spewing from his mouth as he was thrown hard against the wall, immediately knocked unconscious.

“Albert!”

Ranen instinctively moved toward him—but in the corner of his eye, he saw the incoming axe.

He ducked low just in time. The Paradise Butcher’s swing missed him and it let out a furious roar.

Not good. Really not good.

Albert’s room was too small. The Butcher’s massive body took up nearly a third of the space. Ranen barely had room to maneuver, and the doorway was completely blocked by the monster.

There was only one possible way out—

Ranen’s eyes darted to the window, only to see the Butcher lifting the desk and hurling it across the room. It crashed into the wall, blocking the window completely.

Ranen’s heart sank. He slowly turned back—and locked eyes with the Butcher’s gleeful, mocking gaze.

An intelligent anomaly.

Now, the fun had really begun.

The Paradise Butcher raised its axe again and swung mercilessly toward Ranen, who rolled to the left just in time. The blade crashed into the room’s only bed, splintering it into a rain of wooden shards.

Ranen’s heart dropped deeper.

It’s over.

Without his artifacts, there was no way he could take down an anomaly like this. He was completely outmatched. He was nothing but prey.

The axe whistled through the air again. Ranen dodged—barely—but the space left to maneuver was shrinking rapidly.

Nearly the entire room had been reduced to rubble. And somehow, despite the chaos, no one outside seemed to notice. It was as if this space now existed apart from the world—just the three of them inside.

Eventually, Ranen found himself retreating again and again, until his foot struck something. He looked down.

At some point, he had backed up all the way to Albert’s unconscious body.

There was nowhere left to run.

If he moved back again, Albert would die.

The pig-headed monster seemed to sense this was the moment of checkmate. It bared its teeth in a grin and raised the axe high, preparing to bring it down once and for all.

At this instant, Ranen’s mind flashed with a thousand images—like a flickering reel of memories. But instead of panic, the fear and dread inside him… began to fade, like the tide pulling back from shore.

And then he remembered.

The artifacts he had unlocked in the Dream Rift—were they really just items?

If he was truly a god, what did those tools represent?

If he was a god…

Why should he fear the ants on the ground?

Mist began to unfurl from beneath Ranen’s feet.

The Paradise Butcher’s axe froze mid-air.

And for the first time, terror bloomed on that grotesque pig face.

Ranen reached out and grabbed the sharp axe—but the blade that looked deadly couldn’t even leave a mark on his slender, pale hand.

Mist churned across his face, and once again he heard the sound of dice rolling beside his ear.

But the dice had no physical form.

Or rather, it didn’t matter if they did or didn’t.

Because these things were never “items” to begin with—  

They were divine authority.

[Strength Contest: Success]

[Brawl: Success]

Ranen raised his head. His grip on the axe tightened as he launched himself into the air, twisting mid-flight to lash out with a sweeping kick that slammed into the Paradise Butcher’s legs.

It was a clash of small versus massive. The Butcher didn’t feel much force from Ranen’s body—but was still slammed to the ground by some indescribable power. The next moment, the hand of the boy clamped down on its throat.

A scream tore from the Paradise Butcher’s throat—it sounded no different than a pig being slaughtered in a meat factory: shrill, savage, full of despair. The noise was so intense that even the unconscious Albert was jolted awake. His nose filled with the stench of blood, but there was no time to think—he instinctively looked up.

And he saw it:

A monster dressed in elegant Western court attire, calmly lifting the pig-headed, human-bodied creature by the neck. The Butcher’s shrieking grew increasingly horrifying, while blood-colored threads began to emerge from its body, coalescing in Ranen’s hand into a single seed.

*Plop—*

The Paradise Butcher’s skin shell fell limply to the floor, just like the Faceless Man from before—its spirituality completely devoured.

Ranen had always believed the artifacts he gained in the Dream Rift were the source of his strength. That’s why, when he lost them, he felt helpless.

But in this moment, he finally understood.

Those “items” only existed because Ranen’s subconscious rejected the truth—that he was a god. He saw himself as human, and since humans shouldn’t possess strange and supernatural powers, his mind framed them as tools and objects.

But in truth…  

This power, this authority—  

Had always been his.

It was him, buried deep within his very soul.

Now that Ranen had realized this, he no longer needed those artifacts. He could use these powers freely.

*Crack—*

A sound from behind drew Ranen’s attention. He turned around to see Albert’s face filled with overwhelming fear.

Emmm…

Is he really that scary-looking?

Ranen confusedly rubbed his face. He couldn’t figure it out—sure, he might not be drop-dead gorgeous, but surely he doesn’t think his face deserves that kind of fear either?

He had planned to talk to Albert, but as he lowered his head, he noticed something odd—  

His body was starting to go translucent.

Is this a sign? That he is about to return to that state where no one can see him again?

With that in mind, Ranen walked up to Albert and squatted down. Ignoring the boy’s trembling, he moved closer.

And soon enough, he was satisfied to see the image of himself… slowly fading from the reflection in Albert’s golden eyes.

But before he vanished completely, Ranen wanted to try one last thing.

“Albert, don’t trust the Inspection Bureau,” Ranen said. “If you can, just become a regular cop.”

That path might suit him better.

No need to shoulder darkness or heavy responsibilities—just carry out your justice, simply and openly, in the sunlight.

As soon as those words left his mouth, Ranen saw his reflection in Albert’s eyes disappear completely. At the same time, the environment around him shifted—everything began accelerating, to the point where Ranen couldn’t even make sense of what he was seeing. Amid this whirlwind of distortion and inversion, Ranen alone remained still.

Finally, the changes stopped.

When Ranen opened his eyes again, the scene around him had changed once more.

Standing before him now was an older Albert—a young man. He now looked quite close to how Ranen remembered him: golden hair, blue eyes, a physique well-toned from training, far sturdier than his peers, the baby fat of adolescence long gone, replaced by sharp and handsome features.

And standing opposite him was someone Ranen recognized instantly—

Soren, the leader of the Outsider.

“Albert, I need you to enroll at Miskatonic University as a student,” Soren said.

“Why?” Albert frowned, clearly confused. “What’s so special about that university?”

To the locals of Arkham, Miskatonic University didn’t have a great reputation. It was far less prestigious than Arkham University. It didn’t participate in any academic rankings, and the academic atmosphere there was downright bizarre. From faculty to students, few ever achieved anything considered conventionally successful. Instead, the university was oddly accomplished in certain strange and obscure disciplines. In short, unless someone had absolutely no other options, no parent would willingly send their child there.

And yet, curiously, despite having pitifully low enrollment numbers every year, the university never went bankrupt. It even refused to accept donations from anyone except its alumni.

Soren smiled oddly. “You’ll understand once you’re inside. I need you to enter a specific lab and retrieve some information. That’s your core-level mission.”

“Yes, I understand.”

And so, Albert enrolled in the university under normal student credentials, completely unaware that Ranen was following right behind him.

At this moment, Ranen was busy thinking through the mechanics of this mental world. He had originally assumed that defeating the anomaly would save Albert and allow him to return to reality—but apparently, that wasn’t the case.

Is it because there are still more anomalies? Does he need to eliminate all of them to leave? But why was it that Albert could only see him at certain points? And during moments of anomaly invasion? If that is the case, then the rest of the time must be Albert’s ordinary memories, right?

From what Ranen could tell, Albert still followed his original path—he joined the Inspection Bureau, infiltrated the Outsider as an undercover agent, and Ranen’s warning hadn’t changed that. So… nothing he said had really left an impact?

Ranen continued to ponder these questions as he followed Albert.

And finally, within Albert’s memories, Ranen caught his first glimpse of the legendary Miskatonic University.

The skies over Arkham were thick with clouds, perfectly matching the Gothic aesthetic of the campus. Ranen walked behind Albert, curiously observing the surroundings.

Just like the rumors said, there were very few students. In other college towns, you’d see lively young people everywhere—but not here. The campus felt empty and strangely quiet.

And thus, Albert’s student life began.

Because of the low number of students, Miskatonic University’s curriculum was quite different from that of a typical university. In the first semester of freshman year, students could freely attend any class in any department. In the second semester, they were required to confirm their chosen major or field of study. From sophomore year onward, there were no standardized major-specific courses—instead, students would follow the mentor they had selected, conducting research or studying under their guidance.

As for graduation, if your mentor deemed your level sufficient, they would personally grant you a diploma. Of course, if you were unable to graduate that way, you could still apply to go through the regular process.

“But if you go through the regular process, you usually won’t get a letter of recommendation from your mentor,” said the senior who was showing Albert around, his tone gloomy. “Our university is only famous for producing weirdos. Just having a diploma from here doesn’t mean much… you’ll find that out soon enough.”

And yes, both Ranen and Albert did find out—on the very first day of class.

The history professor, who was supposed to be giving a lecture, suddenly broke into a spontaneous imitation of a rooster crowing. Then, a bit embarrassed, he explained to the class that it was a lingering side effect from a recent expedition he led into the Amazon rainforest. “Don’t mind it,” he added.

A girl in the audience raised her hand. “Excuse me, Professor, which historical period were you investigating in the Amazon? I vaguely recall there aren’t any famous ruins from known civilizations there.”

“Oh, oh,” the professor grinned, showing eight teeth. “Of course, you won’t find it in any history book. The era we were studying was extremely ancient. The most important thing is that the civilization we were researching wasn’t even built by humans—it belonged to a race of serpent-people. They had similar living habits to us. Manuel Broomfield from the department next door has a theory that humans developed a tendency for living in groups because back when the serpent-people enslaved us, they preferred to keep us penned up for easier management.”

The girl stared in disbelief, then hugged her books and walked out of the classroom.

“Sorry, my mistake. This place really is just a gathering ground for lunatics.”

That was the last thing she said before dropping out.

The history professor didn’t care at all. “Well, ordinary people are always going to have a hard time accepting this sort of thing. Now then, should I tell you all about my fantastic journey? It was quite the adventure.”

…Which pretty much explains why Miskatonic has such a bizarre reputation in the outside world—as a haven for madmen, frauds, fools, and eccentrics.

And the only ones who could survive in such a place, naturally, were eccentrics themselves… or undercover agents.

Ranen didn’t stay by Albert’s side all the time, attending class with him. For Ranen, everything unfolded more like a movie that occasionally fast-forwarded. Sometimes time moved at a normal pace, and sometimes months—or even half a year—would pass in the blink of an eye, as though only the key events were being shown.

Because Miskatonic University only allowed students into the library starting from their second year, Albert spent his freshman year for once as a relatively obedient and well-behaved student—until it came time to choose his mentor.

After a long absence, Soren summoned Albert again, directly naming the lab and mentor he wanted Albert to follow.

Albert finally couldn’t hold back a question that had been bothering him for a long time: “Forgive me for being presumptuous, but why don’t you go in yourself?”

At first, Albert had thought Soren stayed out of Miskatonic simply because of strict security. But after spending a full academic year there, he realized that wasn’t the case. While Miskatonic wasn’t as open as many universities that had no fences at all, faculty and students could come and go freely. There were no guards stationed at the entrances, nor any visible arcane formations.

Soren was silent for a long time in the face of the question. Finally, he replied, “I can’t.”

“There’s a dog in there with a sharp sense of smell. It would sense my presence.”

…

So, in the second semester, Albert followed Soren’s instructions and chose his mentor—one Aldous McLeish.

This name sounds familiar. Ranen thought.

And soon, he found traces of it in his memory.

Isn’t this the name he saw in the courtyard of Arkham Hospital?

It felt like everything was finally connecting.

“…Very few people choose my lab,” Aldous said while munching on a sandwich. “Mmm, people tend to think my dream research is a bit crazy, and it rarely produces any results. Why are you interested, Albert? I heard you were more into monsterology before.”

By the second semester, most students who remained had already gone through a worldview-resetting baptism. They’d learned that this world held many hidden mysteries unknown to ordinary people. Those who couldn’t accept that had dropped out, and their memories of the occult were wiped clean.

“To know the unknown is sometimes not a blessing, but a curse,”  

—so said the school’s counselor, who handled their psychological issues.

It was then that Albert finally understood why Soren insisted he come to this university himself—this place was a treasure trove of the occult. Countless secrets were openly displayed in the university library, offered generously to any student just stepping into this strange world. When Albert first realized this, it completely shattered his worldview.

The “monsterology” Aldous had mentioned was actually the study of the grotesque—classes where they were taught about different types and ranks of anomalies. Some of them hadn’t even been documented in the archives of either the Outsider or the Inspection Bureau.

“I got interested in monsterology because I wanted to track down a particular entity that appeared when I was a child,” Albert explained. “But personally, I’m more drawn to dream research.”

“Oh? What kind of creature?” Aldous seemed indifferent to Albert’s mention of “interest,” but perked up at the mention of the creature. “I heard Horace once stayed up all night digging through the database looking for anything that matched your description, and still found nothing. He even bet me ten Western Dollars that the creature doesn’t exist.”

“Uh… honestly, I’m not sure either. Maybe it was just my imagination or a dream,” Albert said with a wry smile. “It looked like a boy dressed in Western court attire, face obscured by mist. It appeared when I was a kid and killed a D-level entity that attacked me… then vanished without a trace.”

Ranen, who had been idly sizing up the lab, immediately turned his head when he heard this, staring at Albert in disbelief.

That night’s memory… actually remains!?

“Mist…” Aldous stroked his chin. “Interesting. It’s also possible that it wasn’t an anomaly at all.”

Albert froze. “Not an anomaly… then what else could it be?”

“Who knows? In the world of dreams, anything is possible. It’s not just anomalies that live there,” Aldous said excitedly. “Want to bet? I’ll wager 10 Western Dollars that this creature really exists!”

“But… it’s never appeared again since that day.”

“Maybe its appearance is conditional,” Aldous replied. “Try to recall—what did you do that day that might have met the condition for it to show up?”

What did he do?

It wasn’t just Albert who was thinking—Ranen was thinking too. Why did he appear at that particular moment?

Was it because Albert was in danger? Or because of the presence of an anomaly?

And why is he seeing all of this now—is it his own power at work, or is it Albert’s will drawing him in?