“Please don’t tell me I’m part of a fire-worshiping cult…”
October 7. Cycle 13. The Endless Sea.
At Windrest’s busy docks, a passenger ship eased out of the harbor. Autumn sunlight still had weight in it this late in the season, and the sea glittered like broken glass as the ship turned toward Glory Island.
Morningstar was aboard.
In a few days she would step onto Glory Island, join her colleagues, and hunt for the strangers in Sun City—along with the “Explorer survivor.”
Rhine stood on the pier after seeing her off and watched the ocean for a long time.
A thread of facts kept tightening around his throat:
A group of strangers had appeared in Sun City, planning to steal something. Players in the chat suspected stowaways from another world.
The Black-White Court’s investigation said those strangers were linked to a ship called the Explorer—and to a fire-worshiping cult.
The Explorer had sunk.
The Explorer had one survivor.
That survivor was “Rhine.”
So what did the Explorer, a fire cult, and a group of other-world stowaways have to do with him?
The sunlight flashed on the waves. Rhine almost laughed.
Back when he first arrived, every other player he saw in chat had inherited the original body’s memories.
Only Rhine hadn’t.
At the time, drifting alone on the sea, it had been inconvenient but survivable. He didn’t need social knowledge when he had no one to talk to.
He’d assumed something had gone wrong during the transfer.
Now he wasn’t so sure.
Maybe the original “Ethan Vale” had already lost his memory before Rhine ever replaced him.
And if that was true…
The Explorer wasn’t just a random shipwreck.
It was a warning sign he’d ignored.
***
Sun City, Glory Island.
The streets were soaked in harsh, brilliant sunlight—the kind Glory Island was famous for. It made shadows crisp and merciless.
Qi Heng walked behind his mentor, Orton, and alongside a balding middle-aged man: Chief Sean of the Sun City Police.
Under that glare, staring at the two shiny heads walking side by side, Qi Heng couldn’t help thinking blood really was terrifyingly powerful.
Sean and Orton were brothers.
That was why the police had called Violet Eye for help. When Chief Sean hit a case he couldn’t solve, he dragged his older brother—Weaver Orton—into it.
Qi Heng and his junior partner, Bonnie, came with their mentor.
Qi Heng didn’t mind. Being sent to Sun City for a “mysterious strangers” case thrilled him.
In the last few days, between the chat channel and official player networks, he’d heard the rumors too: outsiders who looked like players, but weren’t from αK49.
As they walked, a bright, sweet voice rose beside him.
“Mr. Perry,” it asked, “who do you think those people were?”
Walking with Qi Heng was Bonnie—a towering girl with giant blood in her veins, who could probably lift him with one hand—and a wood elf named Silvermoon.
Silvermoon had silver hair and blue eyes, worked as a police officer, and assisted in the investigation under Chief Sean.
Meeting a wood elf in person—and working with one—was the second-best part of Qi Heng’s trip.
She was warm, friendly, always smiling, and she matched every fantasy Qi Heng had ever had about elves—none of the aloof coldness from legends.
Unlike Bonnie, whose voice was deep enough to shake furniture.
Qi Heng felt his ears heat under Silvermoon’s gaze.
He already knew the answer.
He’d seen the six corpses the strangers left behind. He’d seen their weapons.
Gray-black tactical uniforms. Automatic rifles with terrifying stopping power.
They weren’t transcendants. They weren’t steam-tech.
They were… modern.
No. Worse.
They were more advanced than modern.
Qi Heng had checked the rifles himself. The silhouette resembled weapons from his own world, but the internals and build quality were a clear generation ahead.
That meant only one thing:
These weren’t stowaways from αK49.
They were from another world with higher tech.
And when Qi Heng noticed the emblem printed on every uniform—a planet with a ring around it—his heart rate spiked.
He knew that symbol.
He wanted to say something profound and impressive to Silvermoon, something that sounded like philosophy.
Reality—and Qi Heng’s actual knowledge—didn’t cooperate.
So he just shook his head. “I don’t know.”
Silvermoon sighed. “That’s what I was afraid of.”
***
ΑK49, Player World.
Huang Yanyan still remembered the earlier hope.
After the “blood sacrifice descent” incident, the authorities had finally contacted the player who’d been sent to New Star and gathered everything he knew.
New Star’s scientific track overlapped with αK49’s in too many places to ignore—and New Star’s tech was far ahead.
Warp jumps. Space migration. Whole disciplines that could reshape global power if even a fraction were acquired.
The Institute got something even better.
In surveillance screenshots, an official player recognized a stowaway from New Star.
A young man, gray-black uniform, and on his chest—
A ringed planet emblem.
The player who’d been to New Star said that emblem represented New Star itself, and that uniform was standard issue.
In New Star, before and after the apocalypse, everyone wore the same thing. Resources were stripped to minimum. Uniformity was survival.
So the identification had been immediate.
New Star had noticed αK49.
That alone was a doorway.
The door slammed shut.
Because Player 0067 repaired αK49.
World integrity rose.
Players below Level 3 could no longer stow away.
After that, the Institute never saw another New Star stowaway.
The one possible line of contact broke again.
Huang Yanyan remembered the mood in the meeting room—heavy, bitter, squeezed tight with frustration.
No one blamed Player 0067 out loud.
But the resentment in the air was real.
He had done something that protected their world. He spared countless players from being thrown into a third world. He blocked people like X from sliding into αK49 to sabotage it.
And yet, to some people, his actions also “blocked development.”
To reach New Star now, an official player would have to advance to Player Level 2, earn enough contribution, and buy a World Ladder.
That was brutally hard.
And New Star only had two months left.
For a while, it looked like the Institute’s window had closed for good.
A few days ago, Qi Heng reported something from the Endless Sea:
The Sun City robbers wore the same ringed planet emblem.
New Star had found the Endless Sea world too—and judging by their actions, they needed something inside Glory Vault.
The response from the official player teams was immediate: contact first, questions later.
Qi Heng tried. He used his investigative training and the access his identity provided, combing Sun City for any trace of the New Star team.
But after the robbery, they vanished.
No scent for trackers. No trace for supernatural senses.
The only conclusion left was the worst one:
They’d already stowed away back to New Star.
Twice now, opportunity had slipped through their fingers.
New Star in αK49: hope, then silence.
New Star in the Endless Sea: hope, then silence again.
It was hard not to feel furious.
And the Institute still faced the same wall: if they wanted New Star, they needed a Level 2 official player and a World Ladder.
Nearly impossible.
But the prize was enormous.
Huang Yanyan had already started telling herself to let it go.
She received a letter from Player 0067.
Along with three items he’d mailed to her.