Julian Thorne's pupils contracted. The gold-trimmed, white-bordered double-headed eagle insignia looked similar to the Russian coat of arms from his past life, but this was actually the crest of the Kingdom of Bryston's unique intelligence agency: the Wardens of the Sun.

  The Wardens of the Sun might sound like a group of bouncers working in a red-light district, but they were, in fact, a special task force within the Kingdom of Bryston, responsible for dealing with supernatural threats.

  Initially, they were tasked with handling supernatural incidents. However, after the game's public beta launch, their focus shifted towards Players. Any Player who broke the law would be hunted down and either killed or captured, quickly turning the Wardens into a name whispered in fear among the Player community.

  And now, immediately after his transmigration, he had a run-in with them.

  The carriage stopped by the roadside, and a middle-aged man in a black fedora stepped out. He approached the group with an aura of quiet authority.

  "Uncle Keene!" The chubby Alan Vester exclaimed joyfully, "Are you here to pick me up?"

  "It's on the way, young Alan. I'm glad you're alive!" The man smiled, doffing his hat in a slight bow. "My name is Keene Vester, of the Wardens of the Sun, and also little Alan's uncle. Do you all have time for a little chat?"

  Keene Vester? The future leader of the Wardens of the Sun, and one of the most powerful Meteorologists in the human world. Julian vaguely remembered that he was already a demigod when he first appeared in the game. Who knew House Vester had such a big shot hidden up their sleeve?

  Julian was secretly surprised. Curse Cult, you never fail to impress. Useless at everything except causing trouble. His mind raced, but he managed a smile and nodded. "Of course, it would be my honor."

  Keene Vester chuckled, replacing his hat. "Then please, get in the carriage. Don't worry, it's just a chat."

  The carriage was spacious, with a plush red carpet lining its floor. Julian found a seat. The young Vester began to recount the day's events.

  Alan Vester was quite the storyteller, and he described the incident in great detail. The only part he missed was Julian drawing the Swedish Sjogren Inertia Shotgun and killing Marien, as he had been knocked unconscious by her Banshee's Wail.

  But he seemed pretty good at filling in the blanks. Based on what he'd seen earlier, he managed to concoct a thrilling gunfight scene in his mind.

  Julian: ...

  The supposed intensity and dramatic twists of the gunfight left even him a little bewildered. Was I really that badass?

  Keene Vester, however, listened intently. Only after Alan had finished did he speak, his voice thoughtful. "You're saying they summoned a demon through a ritual sacrifice? Are you sure?"

  "Yes, a huge spider-like demon," the young Vester said, before adding, "If it wasn't for Mr. Stilwell, I doubt any of us would have made it out alive."

  "I understand." Keene Vester nodded, extending a hand elegantly. "Mr. Stilwell, House Vester will forever remember your assistance."

  [D-Rank Quest [Gratitude of House Vester] Completed. You have gained 6,000 EXP.]

  [Your Favorability with House Vester has increased by 1,800 points!]

  [House Vester: Revered (300/6,000)]

  [You can now share information with House Vester to a certain extent and will receive a 20% discount at all House Vester shops and auction houses.]

  Even someone as seasoned as Julian couldn't help but feel a little excited.

  Reputation with hidden factions like House Vester was the hardest to grind, but the rewards were also the greatest.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  Perhaps because his reputation had reached Revered, Keene's gaze towards Julian softened considerably. "You all have Wayne to thank. According to the Wardens' data, in the past two years, the Curse Cult has performed seventy-two rituals in the Kingdom of Bryston, involving a total of 2,592 people. Only twenty-seven survived."

  We really were lucky... Hearing this, everyone looked at Julian, their hearts filled with gratitude.

  We owe you our lives!

  Keene didn't seem intent on making things difficult for them. After asking a few more questions and taking down their statements, he concluded the questioning and offered to drop them off on his way back.

  Richard Pesa and Luke Shaw lived in the nearby Old Town district and got off midway. A while later, the young Vester also alighted, escorted by several guards back to the Duke's mansion, leaving only Julian and Keene in the carriage.

  "Where to?" Keene inquired.

  "Vickers University, please," Julian replied. The memories left by his predecessor were fragmented, but some basic information remained. His current identity was that of a fourth-year student at Vickers University, about to graduate and facing the pressures of finding a job.

  The carriage turned and headed towards the Vickers University campus on the other side of the city.

  The Duke's mansion was located in one of the most prosperous areas of Drakon, adjacent to the commercial district. Even though it was already late at night, the streets were still bustling with people due to the pleasant weather. The ten-meter-wide streets weren't exactly packed, but the carriage still had to navigate through a fair amount of traffic.

  Keene took out a bottle of liquor from under the table and twisted off the cap. "Northern Sea Elephant Seal's Ice Dew liquor, with a bit of aphid juice. It's quite good. Care to try?"

  "No, thanks. I rarely drink."

  Just the mention of aphid juice made Julian's face contort in discomfort, and he politely declined. He had a strong aversion to anything insect-related.

  Keene poured himself a glass and smiled. "Alright, now let's talk about the real issue."

  "The real issue?"

  "Yes, I withheld some information earlier."

  Keene took a sip of the Ice Dew liquor, his voice low. "The Curse Cult did indeed perform seventy-two rituals in the Kingdom of Bryston, with 2,592 people involved, and twenty-seven survivors. But supernatural events are never that simple. Why don't you take a guess at what happened?"

  "They all died?" Julian offered, playing along.

  "A good guess!" Keene said, his expression unchanged. "But the reality is far worse. Six of those twenty-seven were from Drakon, and we kept in contact with them after they were rescued. But within three days, some reported experiencing auditory hallucinations, as if a voice was constantly whispering in their ears, goading them to do crazy things. At first, we didn't take it too seriously, thinking it was just a result of extreme stress. That was until one of them actually turned into a Fallen, causing significant casualties. This was the first recorded incident of eldritch influence related to a supernatural event in Bryston's history. Later, seventeen of the remaining twenty-six individuals also experienced these hallucinations. Some committed suicide, others transformed. Only nine were spared."

  Julian felt a chill run down his spine. In the game Apocalypse, there was always a lore about ancient gods being good at manipulating people's minds. But the game was one thing; having it happen to him in real life was another matter entirely.

  "I'm telling you this so you'll be vigilant about your mental state. If you experience any hallucinations, come to me immediately," Keene said calmly.

  "I understand," Julian replied earnestly.

  Keene nodded, lifting his fedora. "Alright, that's all for tonight. Go home and get some rest. Tomorrow might bring a surprise. Also, there's going to be a heavy downpour soon. There's an umbrella in the carriage, take it with you."

  The carriage stopped in the quiet campus. Julian, looking somewhat bewildered, took the umbrella and got off, watching as the carriage receded into the distance.

  The sky was clear without a cloud in sight, but the weather in this world didn't follow logic. The moment Julian opened the umbrella, a torrential downpour began.

  "This damn weather," Julian muttered, shaking his head after a moment of stunned silence.

  He checked his pocket watch; it was almost 1:00 AM. Although his predecessor's memories were incomplete, he still had his student ID and dorm keys. He vaguely recalled that he lived on the east side of the campus.

  Following the cobblestone path, he reached the student dormitory and inserted his key into the lock. The door opened smoothly.

  Memory serves me right, Julian thought, relieved.

  ...

  Julian's dorm was on the sixth floor. He walked down the narrow corridor and opened the door. The room was empty. His roommate, Jonathan, was a cheerful rich kid who kept a dog in the dorm. The dog was supposedly of a rare breed, but it was a bit dim-witted.

  Jonathan's door was ajar. Julian glanced in; the guy was out, but the dog was in, sprawled out on Jonathan's bed, snoring away.

  Julian: ...

  Only Jonathan would tolerate this. If that dumb dog ever dared to sleep on his bed, he'd grab it by the scruff of its neck and throw it out the window.

  After a hot shower, as Julian was about to go to bed, a few notifications popped up before his eyes.

  [Important Notice: Dear Players, Beta Testing is about to begin. The official Apocalypse forum is now live.]

  [Important Notice: The first episode of the Apocalypse series is now available on the forum and other platforms. This series is automatically generated by the Personal AI. Players interested in learning about the game's lore are encouraged to watch.]

  The game forum? Julian was momentarily stunned, but with a thought, he was already on the forum's homepage.