Gabriel walked a few streets away from the abandoned church, hands in his pockets and mind analyzing.
The symbols he had seen on the walls—circles and inverted triangles. In the ga, those figures could always carry multiple deeper anings.
But what exactly did they represent here? mbers of cults? Forbidden rituals connected to the "gods" that Paranoid Dan had ntioned with such terror?
The connection was becoming even more tangible, though still invisible. A web where every thread led back to the church.
He decided to visit Dan again. Maybe the paranoid man had recovered enough sanity to give more answers.
He walked toward the abandoned area of the village, but when he reached the hut, he stopped dead.
The door had been forced open, hanging from a single hinge. The windows were completely shattered, with broken glass scattered across the ground like sharp teeth.
The interior looked ransacked even from outside: torn maps, broken flasks, and overturned furniture. There was no sign of Dan.
Gabriel approached cautiously, checking the surroundings. There weren’t many players or NPCs nearby.
The place seed more deserted than ever.
He tried to search for clues—footprints, fallen objects, or any ssage—but everything was too ssed up and the system didn’t mark anything as interactive. An uncomfortable feeling settled in his chest.
It was then that he noticed the strange movent.
A large number of players and NPCs were heading in the sa direction, toward a nearby square.
Their low conversations reached his ears. They were talking about a "funeral procession." Sothing very unusual in the beginner village, which had piqued the players’ curiosity.
Gabriel frowned and followed them, blending into the crowd.
The closer he got, the more people gathered. The square was full.
A crowd of NPCs surrounded a central point, so with genuinely affected expressions.
He recognized several: the baker, the seamstress, and even so of the n who drank cheap liquor, all with solemn faces.
Gabriel approached one of the NPCs he knew by sight and asked quietly:
"What happened? Whose wake is this?"
The man, a carpenter with calloused hands, answered without looking directly at him:
"It’s young Liran. A good kid. His body was found near the well... It shocked everyone. He was kind to everybody."
Gabriel felt his blood run cold for an instant when he finally saw the deceased’s face.
It was him. The nervous young man who had guided him to Dan’s hut.
The sa one who had stamred a warning for him to stop asking questions. Now he lay on a wooden board covered with a white cloth, his face pale and a dark sealed wound visible.
Whispers spread through the crowd like poison:
"They say it was Paranoid Dan..."
"The madman finally beca dangerous."
"He disappeared after what he did. No one has seen him."
"Poor kid, he was really interested in that lunatic’s stories."
Gabriel slowly stepped back, his stomach turning. He withdrew from the square without drawing attention, but his mind was filled with doubts.
What influence had he had in this? Had his visit to Dan triggered sothing? Had the chain quest cost the NPC his life? Gabriel hesitated.
His mood was heavy. Too many thoughts kept surging in his mind without stopping.
He needed to vent.
He headed to Training Field 3, a dynamically generated area feared by many beginners.
He put on the Jester’s Mask before entering. The disturbing smile settled perfectly over his face.
The enemies here were wolves—packs of fierce, fast, and savage gray wolves. At that mont, he wanted to drown his doubts in violence.
The mont he crossed the invisible barrier of the field, the environnt turned into a dense, misty forest. Gabriel tracked down the first pack.
He wasn’t looking for elegance. Only brutality.
The fight was savage. It didn’t resemble a rational exchange, just beast against beast.
A gray wolf leaped toward his throat, but Gabriel t it with a dagger driven under its jaw.
Another bit into his arm when he got too close. He rolled through the mud, stabbing it repeatedly until it stopped moving.
He slashed, stabbed, and killed without rcy. Blood splattered his clothes and the mask.
Every death gave him experience, but above all, it gave him temporary release.
However, he had been noticed long before.
While he was heading to Training Field 3, mbers of the Black Stone Faction had recognized him by the mask.
There were twelve of them. So were the sa ones who had tried to extort him at the fair.
This ti they ca prepared, with better weapons and a thirst for revenge.
"There’s the clown!" one shouted.
"We’re going to collect that rent with interest, you bastard! We’ve been looking for you for a long ti!"
Gabriel sensed them coming before they spoke. His enhanced senses caught their clumsy footsteps and agitated breathing. He didn’t give them a chance to surround him.
He moved like a ghost between the trees. The first victim fell with a dagger buried in the back of his neck before he could react.
The second tried to counterattack but had no chance. Gabriel dodged the axe and opened his belly with an upward slash.
They scread insults, threats, and cries of terror.
It didn’t matter.
With no real coordination, only the brute force of numbers, they fell one after another. Gabriel was driven by a cold murderous intent.
There was no pleasure, only necessity.
The last one tried to flee, but was caught like lightning.
He knocked him down and rcilessly stomped on his head with his reinforced boot, sinking it into the mud. He covered the man’s mouth with one hand and drove the dagger into his heart with the other, twisting the blade.
The bodies dissolved into particles of light when their HP reached zero, leaving only equipnt and coins on the ground.
Gabriel didn’t check the loot. He stood in the middle of the clearing, breathing heavily, covered in blood and mud.
Finally, he sat against a tree and removed the mask for a mont. The emptiness inside him had grown deeper.
He understood his fear. He had never truly had power over events.
Not in real life, nor here. Always reacting, always being dragged along by circumstances.
Young Liran had died. Dan had disappeared. The church was waiting. And he... he was still just a beginner with so talent and luck.
He needed to beco powerful. Truly powerful.
That night he would go to the abandoned church to investigate. With the Jester’s Mask on, well-equipped, and without fear of the consequences.
He stood up and quickly collected the loot—weapons, light armor, and coins.
Gabriel felt sothing inside him hardening. The guilt over Liran, the confusion over Dan, the mystery of the church... everything beca fuel.
This ti he wouldn’t enter as a curious explorer.
He would enter as soone willing to break whatever was necessary to get answers.
And answers, he was sure, he would find within those silent walls.
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