Chapter 9: Game Forum
Zhou Ning's pupils constricted. The emblem was a double-headed eagle on a gold background with a white border. It resembled the Russian national emblem of a later era, but this was the sigil of the Kingdom of Braxton's elite intelligence agency: the Sun Watchers.
Despite their poetic name, the Sun Watchers were no mere ceremonial guard. They were the Kingdom of Braxton's premier intelligence agency and supernatural task force, dedicated to combating occult threats.
Initially, their mandate was to handle all manner of extraordinary events. However, after the game went into public beta, their focus shifted to include players. Any player who committed a crime was swiftly killed or arrested, striking fear throughout the player community.
I can't believe I ran into the Sun Watchers so soon.
The carriage stopped by the roadside. A middle-aged man in a black top hat stepped out and approached the four survivors, his every step radiating an oppressive aura.
"Uncle Qien!" Alan West, the heavyset boy, called out happily. "Are you here to pick me up?"
"Indeed I am, young Alan. I'm glad to see you're still alive!" the man replied with a smile, removing his hat and offering a slight bow. "My name is Qien West. I am a Sun Watcher, and also Alan's uncle. Do you have time for a chat?"
Qien West? The future leader of the Sun Watchers and one of the world's foremost meteorologists. I vaguely recall him being a demigod when he was first introduced. I never would have guessed the West family had such a powerful figure in their ranks.
Zhou Ning was inwardly shocked. Leave it to the Curse Cult to be incompetent at everything except stirring up trouble. As his mind raced, he forced a smile and nodded. "Of course. It would be my pleasure."
Qien West chuckled, replaced his hat, and said gently, "Then please, get in the carriage. Don't worry, it's just a chat."
The carriage's interior was spacious and lined with a red velvet carpet. Zhou Ning found a seat just as Alan began to recount the day's events.
Alan West was a natural storyteller. He quickly recounted the entire incident in detail, though he skipped the part where Zhou Ning pulled out his shotgun and killed Marion, as he had been stunned by Marion's Banshee Wail at that moment.
However, he seemed adept at filling in the blanks. The details he had seen were enough for him to conjure a spectacular gunfight in his imagination.
Zhou Ning was speechless. The gunfight was that fierce? The whole thing was that dramatic? Even he was a little baffled by the embellished tale. Am I really that powerful?
Qien West listened attentively. When Alan finished, he asked thoughtfully, "So you're saying they summoned a demon through a sacrifice? Are you certain?"
"Yes, a giant spider-like demon," the boy confirmed, then added, "If it weren't for Mr. Wayne, I don't think any of us would have made it out alive."
"I see." Qien West nodded and extended his hand gracefully. "Mr. Wayne, the West family will always remember your assistance."
[D-Rank Mission Complete: Gratitude of the West Family]
[You have gained 6000 experience points.]
[Your Favorability with the West family has increased by 1800.]
[West Family: Respect (300/6000)]
[You can now access a portion of the West family's intelligence. You will also receive a 20% discount at all West family stores and auction houses.]
Even though he was accustomed to these kinds of rewards, Zhou Ning couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement.
Reputation with hidden factions like the West family was the most difficult to earn, but the benefits were also the greatest.
Perhaps because his reputation had reached 'Respect,' Qien's gaze softened. "He's right to thank you, Mr. Wayne. According to the Sun Watchers' records, the Curse Cult has performed seventy-two sacrifices in the Kingdom of Braxton over the past two years. A total of 2,592 people were involved. Only twenty-seven of them survived."
We were incredibly lucky... Hearing that statistic, the other survivors looked at Zhou Ning, their hearts filled with immense gratitude.
It's all thanks to him.
Qien had no intention of making things difficult. He asked a few more questions to get their official statements, then concluded the debriefing and arranged for everyone to be sent home.
Richard Pesa and Luke Shaw, who lived in the nearby old town, were the first to be dropped off. A short while later, Alan was escorted from the carriage back to his family's ducal manor. Soon, only Zhou Ning and Qien remained.
"Where to?" Qien asked.
"Wake University," Zhou Ning replied. His memories from his past life were fragmented, but he retained the basics. He was a senior at Wake University, on the cusp of graduation and stressed about finding a job.
The carriage turned, heading toward the Wake University campus on the other side of the city.
The ducal manor was located in the most prosperous district of Darkland City, adjacent to the commercial quarter. Despite the early morning hour, the fair weather kept many pedestrians on the streets. The ten-meter-wide road wasn't packed shoulder-to-shoulder, but it was still crowded enough to slow the carriage's progress.
Qien produced a bottle of wine from beneath the seat and uncorked it. "This is Frost-Dew wine, brewed by the walrus-folk of the North. I've added a dash of aphid nectar. The taste is sublime. Care to try some?"
"No, thank you. I rarely drink." Hearing the words 'aphid nectar,' a pained expression crossed Zhou Ning's face as he politely declined. He had a deep-seated fear of insects.
Qien poured a glass for himself. "Very well," he said with a smile. "Now, let's talk business."
"Business?"
"Yes. I omitted a few details during our earlier conversation."
Qien took a sip of his wine. In a low voice, he said, "The Curse Cult did indeed perform seventy-two sacrifices in the Kingdom of Braxton, involving 2,592 people and leaving twenty-seven survivors. But with these occult matters, nothing is ever that simple. Why don't you venture a guess as to what happened to them?"
"They all died eventually?" Zhou Ning ventured, playing along.
"A good guess," Qien said, his expression flat, "but the truth is far worse. Six of those twenty-seven were from Darkland City right here. We kept in touch with them after their rescue. But within three days, one of them reported auditory hallucinations—a voice constantly whispering in his ear, tempting him toward madness."
At this, Qien's cheek twitched. "We didn't take it seriously at first. We assumed it was psychological trauma from the ordeal. That is, until the man transformed into one of the Fallen and caused a massive number of casualties. It was the first recorded incident of occult bewitchment in the history of Braxton. Afterward, seventeen of the remaining twenty-six survivors began to experience the same hallucinations. They either committed suicide or became twisted monstrosities. In the end, only nine truly survived."
The hairs on Zhou Ning's arms stood on end. He knew that in the game Apocalypse, the ancient gods were known for their power to bewitch mortals. But a game was just a game. The reality of it happening to him was far less thrilling.
"I'm telling you this," Qien said calmly, "because I need you to monitor your mental state. If you begin to hear things, you are to come to me immediately."
"I understand," Zhou Ning replied seriously.
Qien nodded and tipped his hat with a smile. "Good. That concludes our business for tonight. Go home and get some rest. Perhaps tomorrow will bring a pleasant surprise. Oh, and by the way, it's about to rain heavily. There's an umbrella in the carriage for you."
The carriage came to a stop on the quiet campus. Zhou Ning took the umbrella and stepped out, a puzzled expression on his face as he watched the vehicle depart.
The sky was perfectly clear, with no sign of rain. But the weather in this world followed its own logic. The very moment Zhou Ning opened his umbrella, a heavy downpour began.
"This damn weather," Zhou Ning muttered, stunned for a moment before sighing.
He pulled out his pocket watch: almost one in the morning. His memories were still spotty, but he had his student ID and dorm key. He vaguely recalled living in a residence hall on the east side of campus.
He made his way along the bluestone path to the student dormitory. He took out his key, inserted it into the lock, and the door opened smoothly.
My memory served me right, Zhou Ning thought, finally breathing a sigh of relief.
…
Zhou Ning's dorm room was on the sixth floor. He walked down the narrow corridor and unlocked the door. The room should have been empty. As he recalled, his roommate, John, was a cheerful rich kid who even kept a dog in the dorm—supposedly a rare breed, though it was a bit daft.
John's bedroom door was ajar. Zhou Ning peeked inside and saw no one—just the dog, which was sleeping soundly on John's bed.
Zhou Ning was nonplussed. Only John would let that happen. If that mutt dared to sleep on his bed, he'd grab it by the scruff of its neck and toss it out.
After a hot shower, just as he was about to get into bed, several notifications suddenly materialized in his vision.
[Important Reminder: Dear players, the closed beta is about to begin. The official forum for "Apocalypse" is now open.]
[Important Note: The first episode of the "Apocalypse" animated series has been released on the forum and other major platforms. This series is automatically generated by the optical computer. Players interested in the game's lore are welcome to watch.]
A game forum? Zhou Ning was momentarily confused, but with a simple act of will, he logged into the forum's homepage.