The Old Quarter of Oakhaven was a graveyard of history that refused to stay buried.
As Michael walked, the sleek neon aesthetics of the lower-tier slums faded, replaced by crumbling Victorian-style masonry and cobblestone streets slick with a permanent, oily sheen. Here, the "Veil"—that shimmering net of collective human sanity—wasn't just frayed; it was tattered.
Michael could feel it. With his Perception at 4.7, the world felt like a poorly rendered video game. The edges of buildings seemed to blur, and the shadows in the alleyways didn't behave according to the laws of physics. They lingered too long, stretching toward him like hungry dogs.
"In every top-tier webnovel, the MC always finds a 'Cursed' home base," Michael mused, his mind drifting back to the tropes he had devoured on Earth. "Why? Because high-risk areas have low-tax reality. If the World Government can't monitor the area, the Architect can build in peace."
He pulled up the System's map.
[Regional Analysis: The Old Quarter (District 13)][Veil Density: 18.2%][Anomaly Frequency: High][Warning: You are entering a 'Dark Zone'. Your high Perception is now a beacon.]
Michael's lips curled into a thin, cold smile. Most Perceivers in this world probably used "Dampeners" to lower their Perception and stay safe. To Michael, that was like a blind man trying to navigate a minefield.
"I don't need to see less," he whispered. "I need to see everything."
He turned into a narrow lane known as The Weaver's Cul-de-sac. At the end of the lane stood a three-story apothecary shop that had been boarded up for decades. The wood was blackened by rot, and a rusted sign hung by a single chain, swaying in a wind that Michael couldn't feel on his skin.
[Target Located: The Blackwood Apothecary.][Historical Data: Site of a mass poisoning in Year 44. 12 victims. 0 survivors. The 'Grief' has curdled here.]
Michael stepped onto the porch. The wood groaned—not with the sound of weight, but with a sound like a distant, muffled sob.
[Alert! You have entered the territory of a 'Tier 1 Anomaly: The Weeping Ledger'.][Effect: 'Weight of Guilt' — Movement speed reduced by 30%. Mental fatigue increasing.]
Michael felt a sudden heaviness in his limbs, as if his blood had turned to lead. The air grew thick with the smell of formaldehyde and old parchment. From the darkness of the boarded-up windows, pale, elongated faces seemed to peer out, their eyes hollow pits of sorrow.
This is it, Michael thought, his heart racing not with fear, but with the thrill of a designer finding a raw material. A Tier 1 ghost. If I can subjugate this, I'll have enough power to trigger the first 'Global' incident.
He didn't draw a weapon. He didn't have one. Instead, he closed his eyes and tapped into the Fear Extraction skill he had just learned.
"Extraction isn't just about taking," he muttered, recalling a theory from a dark-fantasy forum he used to moderate. "It's about re-programming."
He pushed his Willpower—that solid 2.0 stat—against the oppressive weight of the room.
"You," Michael said, his voice echoing in the silent street. "You've been weeping for sixty years. You've been feeding on the guilt of the occasional squatter. It's pathetic. It's small-time. Do you want to know what real grief looks like? Do you want to know the sorrow of a billion people?"
The air in the porch began to swirl. A figure manifested—a tall, thin man in a tattered lab coat, his jaw unhinged, black bile leaking from his eyes. He reached for Michael's throat.
[Warning! Tier 1 Anomaly is attacking!][Willpower Check... Success!][Aura of the Architect: Activated.]
A shockwave of violet light erupted from Michael's chest. The ghost recoiled, its form flickering. In that moment of weakness, Michael's hand shot out, grabbing the ghost by its ethereal throat.
"I am the Architect," Michael hissed, his eyes glowing with a predatory light. "And I am offering you a promotion. From a local haunting... to a global nightmare."
[Fear Points Spent: 40][Skill Used: Fear Extraction (Rank F) -> Evolutionary Branch Detected!][Would you like to merge 'The Weeping Ledger' with 'The Debt-Collector'?]
Michael paused. His Otaku instincts screamed at him. Combining two different horror tropes? That's how you get a 'S-Rank' mutation.
"Merge them," he commanded. "Give me something that the Detective can't classify."
[Fusion Initiated...][10%... 40%... 90%...][Success!]
[New Anomaly Created: The Auditor of Regret (Tier 1 - Unique).][Ability: 'Collective Liability' — It can haunt anyone who has ever profited from someone else's misery. The more people it haunts, the stronger it becomes.]
The ghost in his hand didn't disappear; it transformed. Its tattered coat turned into a sharp, charcoal suit made of shadows. Its face became a smooth, porcelain mask with a single vertical eye in the center. It knelt before Michael, then vanished into his shadow.
[Level Up! Level 2 -> Level 3.][Strength: 1.2][Agility: 1.4][Perception: 5.0 (⚠️ MAXIMUM THRESHOLD REACHED)]
As his Perception hit 5.0, the world changed.
The physical street disappeared. Michael found himself standing in a sea of grey fog. Above him, he saw the "Veil" clearly—a massive, intricate spiderweb of white light that pulsed like a heartbeat.
And then, he saw the "Eye."
High above the city, a massive, celestial eye was scanning the slums. It was cold. It was divine. It was the collective consciousness of the World Government's Perceiver network.
Michael quickly pulled back his consciousness, sweat beads forming on his brow.
"Too close," he panted. "At 5.0 Perception, I'm not just seeing the monsters. I'm seeing the system that hides them."
He walked into the apothecary, the door now swinging open freely for its new master. The interior was vast, much larger than the outside suggested—a space-distortion effect common in high-Perception zones.
This was his Sanctum.
He walked to the center of the dust-covered room and sat in a high-backed velvet chair that had survived the rot.
"System," Michael said, his voice calm again. "Open the Global Terror Interface."
A massive screen projected into the air, showing the 24-hour news cycle of Oakhaven.
'Slum Landlord Barnaby found in catatonic state, babbling about footsteps.''Police dismiss incident as drug-related.''Detective Seraphina Vance arrives at the Holy Cathedral.'
Michael tapped the screen. He zoomed in on a photo of Seraphina Vance. She was standing on the cathedral steps, her silver hair catching the light. She looked bored, as if the Tier 3 incident she was investigating was beneath her.
"You're looking in the wrong place, Seraphina," Michael whispered.
He opened the Design Blueprint for his first Impossible Incident.
"The landlord was the prologue. The apothecary was the setup."
He looked at his new servant, the Auditor of Regret, lurking in the corner.
"Tomorrow, we target the Central Bank of Oakhaven. We won't steal their money. We're going to steal their security."
[Incident Blueprint: 'The Bankruptcy of the Soul'][Requirement: 200 Fear Points (Current: 12)][Mission: Harvest 188 FP within 12 hours.]
Michael leaned back in the chair. He had a few hours before dawn. He needed to prepare. In this world, knowledge was power, and he had a whole library of "Forbidden Knowledge" from Earth to weaponize.
He closed his eyes, and in the deep darkness of the Old Quarter, the first true Architect of Terror began to dream of fire.