The journey there should have been an hour at most with modern transportation, but Ulrich did not account for one factor: traffic. And damn was it irritating. He’d been stuck in this square, metal box for the past hour, and the cars ahead of them barely moved an inch. Where the hell did this traffic come from?

  “Haha, the local traffic report says there’s a delay due to a car crash, drunk driving idiots, no surprise there.” Said the cab driver. He was an older gentleman, not fashionably dressed, like an uncle who came from the suburbs of the city to make a living.

  From the back seat, Ulrich could see a couple of items above the radio panel: a name plate, a photo frame, and a good luck charm. The nameplate was engraved with “Zhi Ren” and the contact number. A rare name, definitely someone’s uncle from the suburbs. The photo frame portrays a man in his younger years, perhaps at university, standing next to a young lady; both smiling from cheek to cheek.

  His wife? Ulrich thought, turning his head toward the open window to breathe fresh air, and to avoid the cigarette smoke that Zhi Ren puffed.

  “This is my first,” Ulrich admitted. He didn’t remember the last time there was such irritating traffic.

  “Young man, this can’t be your first traffic if you live in the city!”

  That did it. If the cancer labels on the cigarettes could not deter the man from smoking his lungs dry, then Ulrich's strange admission certainly made him pause; which was strange.

  Perhaps he’d noticed his outburst, Zhi Ren coughed and apologized with an embarrassed smile. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it that way. It’s just…” He paused, eyes moving up and down on Ulrich, who took a rather leisurely posture, “You dressed like a second-generation nouveau.”

  Did he really look like that to the cab driver’s eyes? Sure, he had a clean, sleek black suit as well as pants, with an ironed shirt underneath, paired with a rather old-fashioned hat; all funded by the generous donations of the crowd. Certainly, he’d attracted some eyes traveling the city, but it shouldn’t warranted such a response.

  As Ulrich opened his mouth to speak his mind, the car jolted, finally making progress as the space in front of them gradually expanded.

  Finally…

  …

  Ulrich arrived at the destitute district; the sight of it during the day was much more pleasant than at night. Well, if pleasant can be counted on one finger. And that one thing was the river, its color being extremely lively, incomparable to its appearance during the night. Unfortunately, daytime changed not the road; filled with potholes, and the crumbled walls, as well as metal sheets for houses.

  And that garbage stench that lingered in the air, yup, suburb it was.

  “Gosh, I hate being out here. The road condition isn’t good for my poor baby.” Zhi Ren lamented, caressing the top of his radio panel with great care.

  A strange man he was, but Ulrich enjoyed the ride despite his bottom aching and the traffic being horrendous. All of which wasn’t the driver’s fault, and he did not blame the hard-working uncle for it.

  “Thank you for your time.” He said, pulling out a wad of cash.

  Ulrich could sense that his words and actions must have scared Zhi Ren, given him a shock, because he was sweating a river despite the A.C blasting in the narrow car space.

  “Don’t scare me, young master, my heart can’t take it.” He stared at the cash in Ulrich’s hand, instantly guessing the amount to be at least six months of his average earnings.

  It was shady, this old fashioned dress young man going his way to this destitute area, then offering him a load of cash? Any man with an intact survival instinct would refuse the money. Yet, there was conflict on his face as he looked at Ulrich, before hesitatingly exhaling.

  “No string attached?” Asked Zhi Ren, his voice a little shaky.

  Ulrich smiled, though that seemed to only further startle the man rather than ease his worries.

  “No string attached.”

  You won’t get in trouble, but this money… will disappear in due time.

  Despite all his hesitation, Zhi Ren ended up taking the cash and thanked the young man with earnest gratitude. He was a good man, Ulrich could say that much. He didn’t need to perform a divination to guess why he was excited and thankful for the money; it was all too obvious. In a way, this was his form of training his intuition without having to directly perform a divination.

  Divination is ultimately an act of scrying into secrets with the use of known information and knowledge… An inference on the basis of information and deduction, even without the aid of spirituality, is still considered an act of divination, even if mystical and supernatural power is not at work.

  Even after all this time, he didn’t forget to study and practice his craft, a habit carried back on earth as a diligent professor. But he didn’t overdo it either, having learned of the terrible consequences of knowing things he shouldn’t. Everything should be done in moderation, and he followed that mantra thoroughly.

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  For that reason, he dared not divinate the matter relating to the Twilight Order and their goal; not now, the possibilities of seeing horrendous things were too high. Though, he does plan to eventually divinate their activity on two conditions: advance to rank 2, use the white room special properties, which are capable of isolating even the influence of a Great Leviathan in the dream realm.

  Ultimately, all his goals converged toward one destination, rank 2.

  With that, Ulrich tipped his hat toward the sun and made his way toward old man Shi Jing’s residence. According to Bai Ning, Shi Jing was an eccentric old man, no children or wife, just a lone hermit living in a rundown brick house. If a storm came, Ulrich reckoned it would knock the whole thing down.

  Fortunately, the storm will never arrive.

  It didn’t take long for Ulrich to find Shi Jing’s location. Of all the residences in this place, his was the most recognizable, and not for a good reason. Ulrich already knew the old man's living condition was terrible, but not this terrible. Even before stepping into his yard, there was literally dog shit everywhere on the ground, scattered like land mines.

  “Anyone here?” He called from outside the entrance way, afraid of setting foot inside.

  No answer. It was silence, the kind that was cold despite the heat of summer. In that moment, his intuition flared, buzzing in his head like an annoying swarm of flies crowding his ears.

  This doesn’t feel right…

  Despite his unwillingness, Ulrich stepped inside and dodged all the land mines, making his way inside the house in quick strides. There was nothing here worth noting, yet, a familiar scent of rusted iron struck his nose.

  Blood?

  Pig blood? Goat blood? That was all he could come up with, but as he made his way around the corner of the hall, the sight shocked him no less than having encountered Bishop Lewis Smith.

  It was a corpse, not an animal, but a human. And his figure was extremely familiar.

  “He’s dead,” Ulrich uttered.

  Dead? That can’t be! He shouldn’t be dead!

  Ulrich doubted his eyes for a second and came closer to the stiff corpse, examining its features in great detail. No doubt about it, this man had the same features, nose and eyes, hair and wrinkles, it was Shi Jing!

  That made no sense. He wasn’t supposed to be dead, not until Bai Ning killed him at night, so why? Why was he dead? The loop never changed, except for that initial incident. This… was the second change that he’d witnessed personally, from the previous loop to the next.

  His thought began to spiral out of control, and he had a feeling that his psyche would break down had he been a Weaver; fortunately, he was just an ordinary human. Realizing this matter involved greater secrets than he’d anticipated, his heart skipped a beat.

  Did he arrive a minute too late due to the traffic? That was way too convenient! Even if that was the case, it shouldn’t change the fact that Shi Jing was fated to die by Bai Ning’s hand, not killed like this.

  “He shouldn’t die… not yet,” Ulrich whispered, perhaps to himself, or to the bizarre dream that has been haunting his life for over ten years.

  Now that Shi Jing was dead, his best clues to the Eternal Club were trashed. Should he look for Bai Ning? No, he was useless; that man was no more than a fanatical follower who killed to appease the so-called “Leader” of the Eternal Club.

  In regards to the secrets of the organizations, Bai Ning only knew slightly more than Zheng San, and it wasn’t by much. His only other clue was in the real world, investigating the corresponding clues relating to the organization itself with the help of the Ministry, but that would raise too many questions. The matter of his inquiry was too specific, and no doubt, Victor, Captain, or Rosaline will ask why…

  Having accomplished much in his time in the Ministry, his teammates trusted him, yes. However, that didn’t mean that they wouldn’t question or grow suspicious of his actions. As a matter of fact, some of his divination, leads, and persuasion in the past should have raised some flags, yet no one seems to question it.

  Truly, he felt terrible, and his day ruined. What should have been a joyous occasion had completely turned to shamble. Not because of the sight of the corpse, but the implication of it. If this change were possible, who knows what other changes occurred without his knowing?

  He couldn’t possibly scour the entire city and see every single change within a given time period; that was impossible, not unless he became a Weaver within this dream, a powerful one, and that was an even more impossible endeavor.

  In the end, Ulrich hit a dead end, and the only thing he could do was find someone who knew the answer to his dilemma. And that he did. Ulrich stepped farther from the corpse to set up the corresponding ritual from previous loops with the prepared item, then called upon the “Servant of Night”.

  She appeared in her usual black dress, and her image did not change despite the time of day.

  Is she always dressed up… Ulrich thought, but dared not give it a voice.

  “Ma’am Felanor.” He greeted her with a friendly smile, giving her all the respect she deserved.

  She didn’t look at him, but glanced at the corpse first. He saw no reaction from her body language or facial expression. Then, when her gaze landed on him, he sensed the flicker in her eyes, so momentary that he’d almost believed it was just his imagination.

  Very strange. This was probably the third time he’d seen that reaction from her. Having been summoned by a stranger and seeing a corpse, he’d imagined her reacting to the corpse more than to him. Why was it that his appearance elicited more reaction than the corpse?

  Once again, that question appeared in his mind.

  Does she know me? However, it ran away when her voice came.

  “You killed him?”

  “No, he was already dead when I came in.”

  She didn’t question it and looked at him with amusement, “I have heard your prayer. You wish to know about the truth of Belham?”

  “Actually, I already know,” he said, hand pointing at the corpse as he took on a more formal manner of speech, “Ma’am, if you don’t mind my sudden inquiry. I know you are a member of the Eternal Club. I like to know if a member of the Eternal Club is involved in this matter.”

  Now, that was interesting. He noticed her eyes widened slightly, just enough to notice, and that was the most reaction he’d seen from her, besides looking at him weirdly, of course.

  She doesn’t recall the memories from our previous interaction… At least this hasn’t changed. He noted.

  At this moment, she stepped closer, the bottom of her black dress touching the spilled blood, yet strangely enough, it was not stained red. It didn’t take long for her to make her verdict as she nodded.

  “It is done by one of our members.”