The only sound left in the room was the soft burning of the kerosene lamp.
On the bed, Ryan was still unconscious, his face pale and his forehead burning hot.
Simon sat by the window with a cigarette between his fingers, though he had yet to light it.
His wounds had been treated, but his chest and shoulder still throbbed with a dull ache.
Thinking back to last night's brutal fight still filled him with irritation.
Today's newspaper lay on the table.
East Port.
East Port again.
Disappearances, illnesses, harbor lock-downs, and church intervention.
Over the past half-month, these words had appeared almost every single day.
Simon stared at the newspaper in silence for a long time before suddenly letting out a cold sneer.
“Just as I thought.”
He finally figured out what was wrong.
It had been wrong from the very beginning.
A month ago, Alvin had suddenly run over, saying the director wanted Simon to train a newcomer.
Simon had found it strange even then.
With so many people in the archive, why did it have to be him? And why a complete rookie like Ryan, who had barely just started?
The director usually hated trouble more than anything. Why would he suddenly care about mentoring a newcomer?
At this thought, Simon recalled the director's words from that day.
“A lot has been happening in the East End lately.”
“Take him with you to get familiar with the work.”
Looking back now...
Familiar with the work, my foot.
Did getting familiar with the work require running to East Port every single day?
Did it require mingling with people from the police station, the hospitals, and the church?
The more Simon thought about it, the more off it felt. The cigarette slowly deformed between his fingers, yet he still didn't light it.
He had actually sensed that something was wrong a long time ago, but he never expected it to be this severe.
Just yesterday afternoon, they were still organizing the list, and by nightfall, an Edge-man had popped out, intent on killing them.
If that was a coincidence, then the streets of London would be crawling with gods.
Simon slowly exhaled and turned his gaze out the window.
The gloomy, gray sky pressed down heavily over the city.
He suddenly thought of the director.
That old geezer who always sat in his office.
He always looked like he knew everything, yet was too lazy to say a word.
At this thought, Simon narrowed his eyes.
“Old bastard...”
“Just how much do you know?”
If it were just an ordinary disease, the director would never have sent him there.
If it were just a standard statistical census, there would be no need to dump Ryan onto him.
Looking back now, ever since East Port, they had been pushed forward step by step, as if by design.
First, the list of the sick.
Then, the disappearance records.
And then...
Last night's attack.
An invisible hand was tying everything together.
And what irritated Simon the most was that he still had no idea whose hand it was.
The room fell silent once more.
After a long while, he turned back to look at the bed.
Ryan was still burning with fever, tossing and turning in a daze, lying there like a corpse.
The veins on Simon's forehead throbbed.
Thinking of last night, the Edge-man, and the fact that he had been dragged into this mess for no rhyme or reason, his anger flared up again.
He stood up and walked over.
Smack.
He slapped Ryan right on the forehead.
“Damn it.”
“I knew it.”
“Nothing good ever comes from mentoring a rookie.”
Ryan showed no reaction whatsoever.
Smack.
Another slap.
“That bastard Alvin.”
“He wouldn't take him.”
“He had to dump him all on me.”
Smack.
A third slap.
“When you wake up...”
“You'd better explain this to me clearly.”
“What on earth did you do?”
Simon cursed for quite a while, but his anger didn't subside much.
Because he knew very well that this wasn't necessarily Ryan's fault. In fact, it most likely wasn't.
The real problem had probably existed long before, starting at East Port.
The two of them had simply been dragged into the vortex.
At this thought, Simon sat back down in his chair and finally lit his cigarette.
A spark flared in the darkness.
The smoke slowly drifted upward.
He stared at Ryan on the bed, silent for a long time, before finally spitting out a curse.
“What a fucking mess.”
The room fell silent once again.
Only the flame of the kerosene lamp flickered gently.
...
In the dream, Lin Yuan took off his headphones and let out a long breath. He glanced at the message on his phone and casually sent a reply.
“I'm playing CS.”
On the computer screen, the post-game lobby of CS:GO had just popped up.
Defeat.
16–14.
Just two rounds short.
“Fuck.”
“We went all the way to overtime just for this.”
Lin Yuan cursed under his breath and clicked on the scoreboard.
Thirty-one kills.
Top of the team.
And they still lost.
Typical local servers.
He was long used to it.
He closed the game and glanced at the time.
Just past three in the afternoon.
His parents weren't home.
The living room was completely quiet, save for the faint hum of the air conditioner.
Lin Yuan stood up to get a glass of ice water. Returning to his computer, he launched Civilization VI.
He ended up playing for several hours.
He pushed his empire all the way from the Ancient Era to the Industrial Era, defeated France, conquered Germany, and casually annexed a neighboring city-state.
By the time he snapped out of it, it was already dark outside.
The bottom right corner of his computer screen read 9:12 PM.
“Nice.”
Lin Yuan stretched, his neck popping with a satisfying crack.
After playing games all day, his entire body felt completely relaxed.
The biggest thing about Civilization was...
“Just one more turn.”
And then it was dawn.
Lin Yuan exited the game and prepared to find something else to play.
He opened Steam.
He scrolled through his library.
He was tired of most of them.
PUBG.
Apex.
The Witcher 3.
Mount & Blade.
He scanned past them one by one.
Suddenly, his mouse paused.
In the corner of the screen, an icon he had never seen before caught his eye.
It depicted a woman with half her face torn open.
The name was strange.
Cultist Simulator.
Lin Yuan frowned.
“What on earth is this?”
He clicked on the store page, and the game's description immediately popped up.
【Explore occult knowledge.】
【Found a cult.】
【Pursue immortality.】
【Uncover the truths behind the world.】
Below it was a mountain of reviews.
Overwhelmingly Positive.
But the review section was clearly a bit unhinged.
“Played for three hours and still have no idea what I'm doing.”
“My wife starved to death.”
“I got arrested by the police.”
“I became a god.”
“This is digital opium.”
Lin Yuan chuckled.
“What kind of crazy game is this?”
The more he looked, the more interesting it seemed. And for some reason, a strange sense of familiarity washed over him, though he couldn't pinpoint why.
Without thinking too much about it, he clicked play.
The screen slowly faded to black.
Then, music began to play.
Low and deep.
Mysterious.
It carried a strange, eerie vibe unique to the Victorian era.
In the darkness, a few cards slowly emerged.
【Work】
【Health】
【Reason】
【Passion】
【Dream】
Lin Yuan was taken aback.
“A card game?”
The tutorial began to pop up.
He dragged the cards according to the prompts.
Working, earning money, eating, sleeping.
The computer screen emitted a soft glow.
The only sound in the room was the clicking of the mouse.
Lin Yuan had become completely immersed.
Anyone playing this game for the first time usually went through a certain phase.
Total confusion.
Then, a sudden spark of understanding.
Followed immediately by complete addiction.
Lin Yuan was currently in that second phase.
“Ah, so Reason is used for studying.”
“Passion is for painting.”
“Work earns money.”
“And Dream is for finding clues.”
“This is actually pretty interesting.”
He dragged the cards around, constantly trying new combinations.
More and more cards accumulated on the board.
Health, Funds, Passion, Reason, Lore, Rumors, Occult.
Though they looked disorganized, they slowly began to form a distinct pattern.
Time ticked away.
Eleven o'clock.
Twelve o'clock.
One in the morning.
The bedroom door was suddenly pushed open.
His mother poked her head inside.
“Still not sleeping?”
Lin Yuan didn't even look up.
“In a minute.”
“It's always 'in a minute.'”
His mother rolled her eyes.
“You said 'in a minute' three hours ago.”
“Young people shouldn't stay up so late.”
“I know, I know.”
The door closed once more.
Lin Yuan kept playing.
But in the next second, a new card suddenly popped up in the center of the screen.
【The Wood】
He froze for a moment, his cursor hovering over the card.
The card depicted a dark forest with twisted trees and swirling fog, as if something was hidden deep within.
When he saw this card, an inexplicable sense of familiarity washed over him, as if he had actually been there before.
But the feeling quickly vanished.
“They really nailed the atmosphere of this game.”
He muttered to himself, then dragged the card into the Dream slot.
The next moment, the screen slowly dimmed.
Text emerged.
【You enter the Wood.】
【Here lie the things that were forgotten.】
【Here lie the dreams that were buried.】
Lin Yuan stared at the words, suddenly zoning out.
For some reason, a blurry image flashed before his eyes.
A dim street.
Gas lamps.
Thick fog.
And a man smoking a cigarette.
The image vanished in an instant, so fast it felt like an illusion.
Lin Yuan frowned.
“I've really been playing too many games lately.”
He rubbed his eyes and continued playing.
Time passed.
Two in the morning.
His in-game character was no longer an ordinary person. He had founded a secret society, mastered a portion of occult lore, and begun performing rituals, recruiting cultists, and studying the so-called Principles.
Lantern.
Moth.
Winter.
Edge.
Grail.
Knock.
Lin Yuan looked at these names, feeling they sounded strangely familiar.
Especially Lantern.
Every time he saw this card, an indescribable sensation stirred in his chest, as if it weren't just a card, but something of monumental importance.
But as for why it was important, he couldn't remember at all.
He clicked on the encyclopedia to read carefully.
【The Lantern desires to know.】
【The Lantern reveals what is hidden.】
【The Lantern dispels the dark.】
【The Lantern also burns those who peer too closely.】
Lin Yuan smiled faintly at these lines.
“The writing is actually pretty cool.”
He kept playing.
Three in the morning.
The character performed a major ritual for the first time.
Failure.
Two cultists went insane on the spot.
Game Over.
Red text appeared on the screen.
【Your pursuit ends here.】
Lin Yuan froze for a few seconds, then suddenly sat up straight.
“What the hell?”
“I died just like that?”
Refusing to accept defeat, he immediately restarted.
The second run.
Now that he had some experience, his progression was visibly faster.
Working, earning money, studying, recruiting, and building his cult—the entire process became increasingly second nature.
Before he knew it, a faint light began to peek through the window.
Dawn was breaking.
Right then, a unique card suddenly appeared in the game.
It had no name.
Only an illustration.
A brass coin.
A moth was engraved on its surface.
Its edges were heavily worn.
Lin Yuan was stunned. He felt like he had seen this somewhere before.
He clicked to inspect it.
The description was just a single sentence.
【Some doors require a price.】
For some reason, the moment he saw these words, a name suddenly popped into his head.
Chris.
The thought arose completely out of nowhere.
Even he himself was startled by it.
“Who is Chris?”
No one answered.
The room was dead silent.
The air conditioner hummed softly.
The computer fan whirred quietly.
Lin Yuan stared at the screen, momentarily lost in thought.
But soon, a new event in the game drew his attention back.
Shaking his head, he pushed the bizarre thought to the back of his mind and continued clicking his mouse.
...
Meanwhile...
Back in the real world, inside the hotel room.
In the cramped room, Ryan lay on the bed. His face was pale, his forehead burning hot, and his breathing was erratic. Sweat had already soaked through his pillow.
Beside the bed.
Simon sat on his chair.
He hadn't slept all night.
With a cigarette between his fingers, he watched the unconscious Ryan, his expression growing grimmer by the second.
Because for the past half hour, Ryan had been talking in his sleep.
It was fragmented.
Mumbled and incoherent.
It sounded as if he were having a conversation with someone.
At first, Simon couldn't make out any of it.
But eventually, he managed to catch a complete sentence.
“That was so much fun.”
Simon: “...”
The room remained silent for several seconds.
The ash from his cigarette slowly drifted down.
The corner of Simon's mouth twitched. He closed his eyes and massaged his temples with sheer exasperation.
He suddenly felt that he might want to beat this kid to death even more than that Soul-Stitching Edge-man did.
Rate on N.U.
