Chapter 4

Valerian walked deeper into the fog-laden streets of Whitechapel, the world around him eerily quiet. His breath came out in shallow puffs of mist, and every sound seemed to echo in the silence. He wasn't sure if it was the game's immersive design or his own nerves, but the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.

He passed a few NPCs standing near the flickering gas lamps, their faces obscured by the gloom. Some gave him a brief glance, but most went about their business, as if the fog was a normal part of life. Whitechapel was designed to feel alive, and it worked. The city pulsed with a dark, foreboding energy, and every corner seemed to hold a secret.

Valerian's mind raced. He had accepted the quest, but he had no idea where to start looking for the relics. Whitechapel was a maze, with narrow alleys and shadowy figures lurking everywhere. And then there were the other players—some might be allies, but others would surely hunt him for the same relics.

As he turned a corner, he pulled up his map. A basic layout of Whitechapel appeared, showing him the general area he was in. The map was crude, only offering a rough sketch of the district, but it was better than nothing. No specific locations were marked yet, but that was expected. He had to find his own way in this game.

**Hint: The first relic may be closer than it appears.**

Valerian stared at the notification, frowning. Closer than it appears? His eyes scanned the foggy streets, looking for anything that seemed out of place. The cobblestone road beneath him was slick with moisture, and the buildings on either side were dark, crumbling from years of neglect. Every window looked like a watchful eye, staring back at him, but none offered any clues.

Then, he noticed something—a faint glow coming from an alley just ahead. It was barely noticeable, a soft greenish hue that pulsed gently in the mist. Valerian's heart quickened. He couldn't be sure, but it was worth checking out.

Cautiously, he made his way toward the alley, his hand instinctively going to the hilt of his dagger. The glow grew brighter as he approached, and with each step, the alley seemed to grow narrower, the walls closing in around him. The sound of his footsteps echoed strangely in the tight space, bouncing back at him from unseen corners.

At the end of the alley, he saw it—a small, cracked stone statue resting against the wall. Its face was twisted in a grotesque snarl, its eyes glowing with the same green light he had noticed before. Valerian took a step closer, his eyes narrowing. This had to be part of the quest.

As he reached out to touch the statue, another notification popped up in his vision.

**Cursed Object Detected: The First Relic of Whitechapel**

Valerian's fingers hovered just above the statue. He could feel the energy coming off it, a cold, creeping sensation that made his skin prickle. He knew enough about MMORPGs to recognize that this wasn't going to be a simple 'grab the item and go' situation. There had to be a catch.

He glanced around, his senses on high alert. The alley was still empty, the fog thick and heavy, but the silence now felt too perfect. Something was watching him. He could feel it.

Slowly, he withdrew his hand from the statue and took a step back, scanning the area again. That's when he saw it—a pair of glowing red eyes in the mist, just beyond the mouth of the alley.

Valerian's heart leaped into his throat. He drew his dagger in a smooth motion, gripping it tightly as he backed against the wall. The eyes didn't move at first, just hovering there in the fog, watching him. Then, with a low growl, a shape began to emerge from the mist.

It was a wolf, but not like any wolf Valerian had seen before. Its fur was matted and slick with shadows, and its eyes burned with a malevolent light. This wasn't a regular mob; this was something more dangerous, something crafted by the game to punish anyone who sought the relics unprepared.

The wolf bared its teeth, its growl vibrating through the narrow alley. Valerian's hand trembled slightly as he adjusted his stance, trying to remember the combat tips he had read before starting the game. He had faced low-level enemies before, but nothing like this. The atmosphere of the game made the wolf seem terrifyingly real, and for a moment, he had to remind himself that this was all virtual.

But in the game, fear was still fear.

The wolf lunged without warning, its massive jaws snapping shut just inches from Valerian's arm. He sidestepped, barely avoiding the attack, and slashed out with his dagger. The blade grazed the wolf's flank, leaving a shallow cut, but it was enough to make the creature snarl in pain.

Valerian gritted his teeth, focusing on the wolf's movements. It circled him now, waiting for another opening, its red eyes never leaving his. He knew he couldn't afford to make a mistake. His health bar hovered in the corner of his vision, but he pushed the numbers aside, focusing instead on the wolf's next move.

The wolf lunged again, this time faster. Valerian barely managed to parry the attack, the force of it sending a jolt up his arm. He countered with a quick slash to the creature's neck, this time drawing more blood. The wolf howled, its body writhing in agony, but it wasn't dead yet.

With a final snarl, the wolf leaped at him, its teeth aimed straight for his throat. Valerian's instincts kicked in. He ducked low and drove his dagger upward, piercing the wolf's chest with a single, clean strike. The wolf froze in midair, its eyes going wide before it collapsed to the ground in a heap of shadow and mist.

Valerian stood there for a moment, breathing hard. His heart pounded in his chest, and his grip on the dagger tightened as he looked down at the fading form of the wolf. It dissolved into the fog, leaving nothing but a faint trace of red light behind.

**You have defeated: Shadow Wolf (Level 5).**

A small reward screen popped up, but Valerian barely glanced at it. His eyes drifted back to the statue. The relic was still there, glowing faintly, waiting for him to claim it.

This time, when he reached for it, nothing stopped him. The moment his fingers brushed the cold stone, the relic's glow intensified, and a new notification appeared.

**Relic Obtained: The Whispering Shard.**

Valerian exhaled slowly, the weight of the moment settling in. He had done it. He had found the first relic. But he knew, deep down, this was only the beginning. Whitechapel had many more secrets, and each one would be more dangerous than the last.