As I walked from the headquarters back toward the Copper Lantern, the noise of the crowd crashed over me in waves.
People bargaining, laughing, almost starting fights and then backing off at the last second…Everything looked normal.It was just me who was still carrying the wild dog's last breath somewhere inside.
My hand went to the hilt of my sword without thinking.The stone still held a faint, dark stain from the dog's fur.
"I should clean that," I muttered."Yeah, first job: stop looking like 'that guy who kills rabid dogs'."
⟪SYSTEM⟫[MICRO COMMENT]
– Wanting to clean your weapon after your first kill: Normal.– Not wanting to hide it and sniff it: Reassuring.
"You seriously do psychological tests on me morning and night," I said.
It didn't answer.Apparently, it preferred to let me grumble on my own.
When I pushed the Copper Lantern's door open, the inside looked completely different from daytime.
The crowd had grown, the air was warmer, and the smell of food and ale clung to the walls.Downstairs, almost every table was taken.One corner had men throwing dice, another had people slamming the table while laughing, and somewhere in the back someone tortured a flute.
Garen was behind the bar, drying cups.He gave me a nod as soon as he saw me.
"You're alive," he said. "So the herbs up north didn't eat you."
"Not the herbs," I said. "Some other things almost did, though."
He raised an eyebrow.
"Don't tell me more," he said. "Evening customers are plenty; gossip travels on its own. Just answer this: are you sleeping in your room tonight or staying outside?"
"In my room," I said. "But first I want food. Whatever you've got."
"Whatever I've got is always the same," Garen said."One plate of stew and bread on the side. Payment is up front. I don't trust new guests."
I didn't take offense.Who trusted anybody in this world?
I opened my pouch and counted a few copper coins onto the counter.Garen flicked them between his fingers, then dropped them into a box.
"Bran will be here soon," he said. "He reserved a spot for you in the back."
"For me?" I said. "He decided to hang out with heroes now?"
"If you use that word, he'll throw you out," Garen replied."Think of it as 'a man looking for someone to share his trouble with.'"
That sounded… more accurate.
When I went to the back, two people were sitting at a table near the wall.
One was Bran; armor off, light leather clothes on, looking relaxed.The other was someone I hadn't seen before:dark hair, short beard, an old guard cloak hanging to one side…His eyes were paying more attention to the room than to his mug.
Bran waved lightly when he saw me.
"Look who decided to show up," he said. "Veldan's new 'herb-gathering hero'."
"I'll accept the herb-gathering part," I said. "The rest feels a bit early."
The man next to Bran didn't get up, but he nodded.
"Torren," he said. "Night patrol. Bran says you survived an assassination on your first night. Lucky."
"I agree," I said. "I woke up to a broken bed and I'm still breathing. That's definitely luck."
Torren's lips twitched.Not quite a smile—more like, "I could make fun of you, but I'll save it for later."
I sat down.Garen came over with two plates of stew and a plate of extra bread. He put one in front of me.
As soon as I smelled the food, the nausea from earlier faded back.Hunger took its place.
"Body," I thought, "saw first blood, got over the shock, now wants fuel."
⟪SYSTEM⟫[METABOLISM NOTE]
– After combat and training:• Your energy consumption is higher.• Your daily food requirement now exceeds what you needed in your office-chair days in the other world.
Suggestion:– Try not to go hungry.– Dying is statistically harder when you've eaten.
A laugh slipped out of me as I took the first spoonful.Bran froze with his spoon halfway to his mouth.
"What?" he asked. "Did the stew just reveal a prophecy?"
"Something like that," I said. "I've got an inner voice reminding me not to starve."
"Too late," Bran said. "Not starving in this town is already a rare skill.Hey, Garen, more bread!"
"Put the money on the table where I can see it!" Garen shouted from afar.
We ate in silence for a while.The noise around us was like the sound of waves behind a thin wall.
When I'd almost finished my stew, Bran set his mug down.
"I heard," he said, "you weren't alone while gathering herbs up north."
I put my spoon down."Once again, the rumor department is faster than me," I said. "The kid at the headquarters?"
"Doesn't matter who," Bran said. "What matters is that several stories about what attacked you reached me before you did."
Torren just stared at me this time, silent.
"Wild dog," I said. "But not normal. Its eyes… had an orange ring. And on its neck, there was… a strange cut."
My fingers moved on the table, about to trace the shape.I stopped at the last second.
"A cut?" Torren said. "What kind of cut?"
"Three lines," I said. "But they didn't meet. Like someone was about to draw a triangle, then quit halfway."
Torren's expression changed, just a little, but clearly.His hand reached for the mug, but he forgot to drink.
Bran's eyes left me and went to Torren.
"What?" he asked. "I thought it was just a simple dog incident."
Torren stayed quiet for a few seconds.Then he emptied his mug in one go.
"Years ago," he said in a low voice, "a trade caravan came from the north.When they arrived, we saw a similar mark on the cloth covering one of their wagons. An incomplete triangle. No one cared."
"What happened next?" I asked.
"Three days later," he said, "we couldn't find anyone from that caravan.It was like the earth had swallowed them."
The warmth at our table seemed to drop a few degrees.
"Tracks?" I asked. "Bodies?"
"None," Torren said. "Just wheel tracks, up to a point. Then nothing.Even the soil looked… wrong.If I talk too much, you won't sleep tonight."
"I can't sleep much anyway," I said.
Torren stared at me for a long moment.Then he dipped his head slightly and stood up.
"I should get ready for night patrol," he said. "If something comes from the north again…let's hope it's just dogs this time."
He left the table and disappeared into the crowd.
Bran watched him go in silence.
"Sometimes," he said, "I wish half of what Torren says were made up. But from the sound of his voice… it doesn't feel like that."
"So what do you know?" I asked. "At the headquarters—nothing whispered about the north that doesn't make it into the official records?"
Bran looked like he was weighing his career for a few seconds.Then he lazily turned his mug in his hand.
"Officially," he said, "the records just say 'missing.'Unofficially… some guards say bad things tend to happen to people who keep seeing that triangle mark. But no one says it loudly."
"Why?" I asked. "Why is everyone quiet?"
Bran leaned forward, closer to me.
"Because," he whispered, "whenever someone starts talking too much about that mark, they leave soon after.Some get reassigned.Some go on missions they never come back from.And some… end up on the missing list."
A weird noise came out of my throat—somewhere between a laugh and disgust.
"Great," I said. "My Luck is already low, and on top of that I've started collecting cursed shapes."
⟪SYSTEM⟫[SHORT NOTE]
– Your ability to mock your own thoughts may increase your mental resilience.– Or drive people around you insane.
Bran locked eyes with me.
"Listen, Ethan," he said, serious now."You fell into this place as if you dropped from the sky. You dodged death from a professional killer on your first night. Then you go north and kill a dog that carries a mark.That's not a normal 'beginning.'"
"I know," I said. "I've been telling myself the same thing."
"That's why," he went on, "you shouldn't tell everyone everything you see and hear.Even I don't have to hear it all.For a while, just be an observer.Gather more information. Then move."
As soon as his sentence ended, something flickered in the corner of my System panel.
⟪SYSTEM⟫[SIDE OBJECTIVE – UPDATED]
New Note:– Bran → Advice: "Don't talk too much, watch first."
Veil Branch Synchronization:– +Small Intuition Alignment
"At least we agree on something," I thought.
After the meal, Bran offered a bit of light training in the backyard, but my shoulder disagreed with the idea.This time, I was the one to refuse.
"That's enough grinding for today," I said. "If I can still walk tomorrow, we continue."
Bran gave my healthy shoulder a light tap.
"Tomorrow," he said, "if the patrol schedule fits, we might put you on a small internal patrol.You need to really see the inside of this city.But for now, go sleep. Your eyes are sinking into your skull."
"They've always looked like this," I said. "You're just noticing now."
I went upstairs.Each step made my legs ache and my shoulder throb.
When I entered my room, the first thing I did was set the sword down by the door.Then, out of respect for last night's chaos, I took the time to clean the blade and the knife carefully.
I wiped off the dog's fur, dried blood and dirt.While I worked, a strange calm settled over me.
"Is this like erasing what happened," I thought, "or making room for the next one?"
Without knowing the answer, I put the weapons back.
Before lying down, I had to check one more thing.
The old pocket watch.
I took it out of my pocket.The cold metal fit into my palm.
I opened the lid.
The hour and minute hands were still stuck at that incomprehensible point.But the thin second hand—yes, I was sure—had moved by a single tick.
Then stopped again.
⟪SYSTEM⟫[OBJECT REACTION – UPDATED]
– Object: Undefined Old Pocket Watch– Status: After a long frozen period, microscopic movement recorded in the hands.
Possible Triggers:– First contact with the underground ruins.– Contact today with soil containing "energy residue."– Seeing incomplete triangle marks several times in quick succession.
Extra Note:– No direct link recorded between the watch and the System.– Probability that it belongs in the same story as you: increasing.
"I don't like any of those sentences," I said.
I closed the lid.As I was about to put it back in my pocket, I felt a tiny groove under my fingernail along the edge.
I lifted the watch up to the light and squinted.
I couldn't see anything.
But I could feel it:Faint, thin… three lines.
⟪SYSTEM⟫[WARNING – LOW LEVEL]
– Repeated symbols may trigger paranoia.– Paranoia can both increase and decrease survival chances.
Suggestion:– For now, just record it.– Don't chase it.
I took a deep breath.Then I slid the watch under my shirt, so it rested directly against my chest.
After that, I lay down on the bed.
Sleep didn't come right away this time.
I counted the cracks in the ceiling.Listened to the muffled noise from outside.Heard heavy boots moving in the corridor.
Slowly, the images blurred.
In the dream, I was back there again.
In the underground ruin.
The body on the stone altar was and wasn't me at the same time.My chest rose and fell in the same rhythm as the ticking of the pocket watch.
It was dark, but…this time, there were lines in the darkness.
On the floor, on the walls, on the ceiling.In groups of three.Incomplete triangles—some finished, some left halfway.
The metal cube hovered beside the altar.Cold energy dripped off it.
⟪SYSTEM⟫[AUDIO LOG – DISTORTED]
…host… …sync...LEVEL… RESTRICTION...BEING OBSERVED…
The voice sounded warped;like someone had taken the System's words and twisted them out of place.
I heard footsteps behind me.Bare feet on stone.
I couldn't turn.
The shadow of long black hair slid through the edge of my vision.One step. Another…
Then, a whisper reached my ears.Not quite male, not quite female. Not young, not old.
"Time," the voice said, "is still on your side… Ethan."
I saw a hand reaching toward me.On the wrist, a completed triangle burned with light.
I woke up with my breath caught in my throat.
I was sitting up in bed, one hand clutching the spot on my chest where the watch was.
The room was dark, lit only by a faint glow slipping through the window.Outside, somewhere far off, a dog howled.
⟪SYSTEM⟫[STRESS ANALYSIS]
– Post-dream heart rate: High.– Sweating: Moderate.– Screaming: None.
Comment:– For now, you fall into the "did not completely lose it" category.
"Thank you," I said, with a shaky laugh."At least I didn't scream."
Just as I was about to lie back down, my eyes slid to the door.
A thin edge of paper was sticking out under it.
Slowly, I got out of bed.Walked to the door and pulled the paper in.
There was only one sentence written on it:
Don't ask too loudly.Some marks will mark you back.
Underneath, someone had drawn three small slanting lines.Again, almost a triangle.Again, left incomplete.
I yanked the door open.
The corridor was empty.
Far away, for a split second, I thought I saw a shadow slip around the stairs—or maybe that was just sleep still clinging to my eyes.
⟪SYSTEM⟫[NEW ENTRY]
– Unknown Sender: "The Note-Leaver"– Status: Unknown.– Threat Level: Unclear.
Bonus:– Current curiosity level in your story: Increased.
I took a deep breath, folded the note, and tucked it next to the watch against my chest.
In this world,everyone was hiding something.
And without even realizing it,I had stepped right into the narrow path where all those hidden things liked to walk.