At midnight, the Caster City State gradually fell silent.
No. 44 Golden Street. A two-story building at a crossroads, built entirely of brick and stone with a triangular roof.
The exterior was painted a bright yellow, a stark contrast to the other buildings. Only its gray roof tiles matched the style of Golden Street.
"New Era, August 8th, 1578. Weather..."
Wei'en Loft glanced out the window. A red moon hung high in the night sky. Vague shadows could be seen shifting within it, fleeting and ephemeral.
Bathed in the red moon's light, the crimson moonlight was hazy and dim, adding a veil of mystery to the night.
Nearby stood a kerosene streetlamp, taller than a man. A wooden lampshade, wider at the top and narrower at the bottom, sat atop a black post. Through the window, he could still see the dim yellow flame within, driving back the darkness.
He was already quite familiar with all of this.
Every day before nightfall, on the sixth toll of the bell from Krimms Cathedral, he would see the Lantern Bearer in a black cloak, punctually lighting the kerosene lamp.
Immediately after, the Lantern Bearer would stand solemnly still, cross his hands over his shoulders, and whisper, "Praise the Lord of Dawn!"
Every time he saw this scene, a strange thought would pop into his head: 'If the kerosene lamp didn't get lit, would that mean the Lord of Dawn has abandoned us?'
"...Clear."
Wei'en typed out the last word, tapping two 'keys' to form the golden character for 'Clear.' He sent it into the black screen of light before him, where it vanished as if swallowed by a void, creating several black ripples.
Compared to the Lantern Bearer's kerosene streetlamp outside, the "typewriter" in his hands was clearly a hundred times more bizarre.
On an oak base sat a silver box with exquisite engravings, as beautiful as a jewelry box.
Pressing a switch on the left side of the box caused a "keyboard-like" object to slowly emerge from below—the "typewriter."
There were six rows in total, each with twelve "keys," for a total of seventy-two "keys" representing the characters of the common tongue, all arranged in neat order.
Although the "keys" were crudely made, their crisp, pleasant sound couldn't help but remind Wei'en of his past life, of the days and nights he had spent fighting on the Ionia Continent.
Too bad he could never go back...
That's right—he was not from this world.
A week ago, he had awoken from a deep sleep to find that everything around him had changed.
At first, he thought it was a prank by his friends, that they had taken him to a movie set.
But after receiving the residual memories of his predecessor, he had no choice but to accept the fact that he had transmigrated.
After experiencing confusion, terror, and despair...
Wei'en quickly composed himself and chose to face reality head-on—especially after seeing a monster with a human arm in its mouth pass by his window three nights ago.
He swore it!
That was definitely a terrifying monster. It looked a lot like a wolf, but it was much, much larger.
The monster was covered in grayish-white scales, its four limbs burned with pale flames, and it had a pair of huge wings on its back that cut through the night sky with each flap.
Under the red moon, it looked like a demon that had crawled out of the abyss, sending shivers down one's spine.
Even watching it from a great distance, Wei'en could feel himself tremble with a fear that snuffed out any thought of resistance.
However, it was a blessing in disguise—something like a game's status panel had appeared in his mind.
Name: Wei'en Loft
Bloodline: Salothenian
Profession: None
Resilience Level: 7 (7) (Represents physical strength, including power, speed, constitution, etc.)
Spiritual Level: 8 (15+1) (Represents spiritual power, including perception, willpower, soul, etc.)
Talents: None
Skills: None
Survival Points: 3
[Creature from another world, even though you have long been exposed to the mysteries hidden in the True World, you ignorantly believed that to be reality. Evaluation: Weakling. Reward: Survival Points +3.]
[You spied on the Sutle Dog, but the abyssal creature, having already eaten its fill, paid no mind to your gaze. You escaped disaster. Evaluation: A toast to your luck! Special Reward: Spiritual Level +1.]
[Profound Evil Dog: Pet of the Master of the Profound Abyss, Guardian of the Abyss World, a terrifying demon that travels between the Abyss and the real world. Its favorite snack is a little something called "humans."]
[Note 1: Any mystical event that happens to you (either as a participant or a witness) can earn you Survival Point rewards. Special events can grant additional special rewards.]
[Note 2: Survival Points can only be used to unlock knowledge and upgrade skills and talents.]
'A cheat system?'
Wei'en had thought he'd have to start from scratch in this bizarre world, but he hadn't expected this pleasant surprise.
Although the panel was useless for now, it was enough to fill him with anticipation for the future.
Therefore—
From that day on, he resolved to properly experience this world of mystery, strangeness, and magic.
However,
before that, he first had to finish the job his predecessor had worked so hard to get.
"Praise the Lord of Ghosts! The Caster City State is as peaceful as ever. The sun rises as usual, the red moon still hangs high, and everything is so wonderful... Recorded by Wei'en Loft, Intelligence Officer of the Caster City State."
This was the job his predecessor had found—Intelligence Officer for the Ghost Soul School in the Caster City State!
The job was simple, too. He just needed to periodically report on events happening in the city-state through that "typewriter."
After Wei'en took over his predecessor's body, he inherited the job and decided to take it to the next level.
His predecessor usually transmitted a report once every three days. Wei'en was different. He posted daily... ah, no, he insisted on transmitting new "intelligence" every single day in exchange for a meager salary.
Each report was no more than a thousand characters, with a base salary of 6 pence—equivalent to about 30 yuan in his previous life. (12 pence = 1 shilling, 20 shillings = 1 gold pound)
And that wasn't even counting the extra rewards given based on the intelligence's value.
And most importantly!
Within the Ghost Soul School, he could also use money to purchase knowledge, like the most basic Meditation Technique—for only 2 gold pounds.
Look at that! They even had a commission-based bonus system and a points-redemption system.
What was this?
'This is vision,'
'No wonder the Ghost Soul School is so successful!'
So, after learning all this, Wei'en spent every day counting his little personal treasury—1 gold pound, 19 shillings, and 6 pence.
As soon as today's payment arrived, he could redeem the Meditation Technique.
He hoped it would open the door to becoming a Ghost Mage and allow him to step into the ranks of the Extraordinary.
He had even set his goal already—to grind the Sutle Dog into the dust.
"BZZ... BZZ..."
Wei'en snapped out of his reverie and saw the "telephone" next to his "typewriter" vibrating frantically.
'Holy crap,'
'A call is coming in?'
Just like the "typewriter," this "telephone" was an equally bizarre device—it looked like a trophy, narrow at the bottom and wide at the top, made of pure gold, with a mural of blue flames on its body.
He activated it.
Wei'en reached out and tapped the Gemstone button on the "telephone."
Ghostly blue flames shot out from the top, and a bone-chillingly cold aura spread out, making him shudder involuntarily.
Then, a somewhat slender figure appeared in the flames, its form illusory and distorted by the burning fire.
The figure was wrapped in a black, hooded robe, revealing only a soft, beautifully lined chin, and... a broad, fair bosom.
"Wei'en Loft?" a crisp, cold voice rang out.
'A woman?'
'The Intelligence Department's Liaison Officer is a woman?'
A strange feeling flashed through Wei'en's mind, but his body instinctively bowed slightly in a salute. "Yes, Liaison Officer," he said respectfully.
His predecessor's memories did contain information about his superior Liaison Officer, but it was just a single line from the [Work Regulations]—Do not make any offensive gestures!
Just a few short words. No reason given, no mention of the consequences for violating the rule.
However,
given the bizarre scene before him, Wei'en had no desire to test the truth of that sentence.
After a full half-minute of silence, the voice spoke again. "So you're the one who's been sending all that garbage intelligence for the past few days?"
'Garbage intelligence?'
'Did she find out I've been padding my reports?'
Wei'en glanced up at the figure in the flames. A pair of long, narrow, deep-set eyes glared at him angrily from beneath the hood.
A bad feeling welled up inside him...
Immediately after, he heard the figure's tone shift to rage:
"By the Ghost Soul School!"
"If I have forsaken our tenets, then let the bastards from the Dawn Church be the ones to punish me, not this assignment as the goddamn Liaison Officer for the Shetland Kingdom's Intelligence Department."
"If I hadn't come here, I wouldn't have had to meet you—Wei'en Loft!"
"You shameless wage thief, you damned freeloader, you filthy parasite... For six whole days, the combined value of all the intelligence you submitted is a mere 1 pence."
"1 pence!! That's not even enough to buy a pound of black bread!"
"And you, you shamelessly took 3 shillings for it."
"Is your face made of porcupine hide? Huh?"
After that torrential downpour of abuse, Wei'en had only one thought.
'I'm screwed!'
'It seems this Liaison Officer doesn't approve of my intelligence reports' value. If I don't do something, I'm afraid I'm going to kick the bucket right here and now.'
Wei'en's mind raced. Seizing the pause, he carefully chose his words. "Honorable Liaison Officer, could there be some misunderstanding? I submit intelligence every day, covering all aspects of the Caster City State..."
"Hah!"
The Liaison Officer sneered, "Including the cleaning of horse manure in the slums?"
"And major events..."
"Like the fact that the Krimms Cathedral Bell Ringer is an ugly freak?"
"..."
After a moment of silence, Wei'en chuckled awkwardly. "Ma'am, is it possible that... nothing has happened in the Caster City State recently?"
"Shut up!"
The Liaison Officer took a deep breath, suppressing her rage and trying to recover the elegance befitting a lady:
"Five days ago, a captain from the Secret Investigation Department was assassinated. Three days ago, over 300 people mysteriously disappeared from the slums. Two days ago, the Black Pearl, which runs rampant in the Cordo Sea Region, plundered a cargo ship in the Caster City State's harbor..."
"Dammit! Do you want me to go on?"
'So much for elegance...'
'So, is she going to kill me after all?'