Chapter 5

Valerian walked out of the alley, the *Whispering Shard* safely stored in his inventory. The eerie glow it gave off had already faded, leaving only a dull ache in his chest, a reminder of what he had just gone through. Whitechapel's fog still hung low, but now it felt different—darker, heavier. The relic in his possession seemed to change the world around him, as if something, or someone, was watching.

The air was colder now, biting at his skin as he made his way back towards the town square. His thoughts raced as he replayed the fight with the *Shadow Wolf* in his mind. He had barely made it out alive. If that was just the beginning, what else was lurking in this city? What other creatures waited in the shadows, guarding their secrets?

His gaze flickered to the quest log.

**Quest: The Relics of Whitechapel – 1/5 Completed.**

One down. Four to go. He couldn't shake the feeling that the next relic would be much harder to find—and even deadlier to retrieve.

As Valerian made his way toward a cluster of NPC merchants, he noticed a few players milling about the area. Some were chatting idly, others negotiating with vendors for weapons or armor. Unlike him, they seemed calm, almost relaxed. For a moment, he envied them. They hadn't tasted the danger yet.

He approached one of the weapon vendors, a stout man with a thick mustache and heavy-set eyes. His stall was lined with a mix of swords, daggers, and guns, each more finely crafted than the last.

"Looking for something, lad?" the vendor asked, his voice gruff but not unfriendly.

Valerian glanced at his own dagger, still dripping with the essence of the *Shadow Wolf*. It had served him well, but he needed something stronger if he was going to survive what came next.

"Something sharper," Valerian replied, his eyes scanning the vendor's wares.

The vendor chuckled, rubbing his chin. "Aye, sharper. That'll cost ye, but I've got just the thing."

He reached beneath the stall and pulled out a slender, silver dagger. Its blade shimmered faintly in the dim light, and Valerian could feel the power radiating off it even before the vendor placed it on the counter.

"Enchanted steel," the vendor explained. "Light enough for quick strikes, but with enough magic in it to cut through any shadowy beast you'll encounter."

Valerian eyed the dagger, but then checked his inventory. The gold he'd collected from killing the *Shadow Wolf* was barely enough to cover it. He hesitated for a moment before handing over the coins. He needed an edge in this game—something to keep him alive a little longer.

With the new weapon strapped to his side, he felt a surge of confidence. The weight of it at his waist was a comfort, a reminder that he wasn't entirely defenseless.

As he walked away from the vendor, he noticed a few players staring at him. Some whispered to each other, pointing in his direction. Valerian frowned. His victory over the *Shadow Wolf* must've drawn attention.

Suddenly, a notification blinked in the corner of his vision.

**PvP Enabled.**

Valerian's stomach dropped. He had heard about this feature in *Victorian Abyss*. Once a player completed their first major quest, they became a target. Other players could now hunt him down for the relic he carried.

The whispers among the players grew louder, and Valerian noticed a group of them slowly making their way toward him. He could see it in their eyes—the hunger, the greed. They wanted the relic, and they didn't care how they got it.

Without a second thought, Valerian turned and darted down another alley. The footsteps behind him quickened, and he could hear them giving chase. His pulse raced as he sprinted through the narrow streets, his new dagger bouncing against his thigh. The fog swirled around him, and every turn felt like a dead end waiting to trap him.

He cursed under his breath. Why hadn't he logged off when he had the chance?

Valerian weaved through the streets, his eyes scanning for a way out. He couldn't take on all of them—not yet. His stamina was dropping quickly, and he didn't have time to stop and fight. He needed to lose them, to hide long enough for them to give up the chase.

Then he saw it—a small, half-open door at the base of a crumbling building. Without hesitating, Valerian slid inside, closing the door softly behind him. The darkness inside swallowed him whole. He pressed his back against the wall, his breathing heavy and shallow.

The sound of footsteps thundered past the door, fading into the distance. Valerian waited a few more seconds, his heart pounding in his chest, before he dared to exhale.

He was safe. For now.

As his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he realized he was in some kind of abandoned tavern. Dust covered the floor, and broken furniture lay scattered across the room. But there was something else here too—something strange. The air felt thick with magic, humming with an unseen energy.

Slowly, Valerian stepped further into the room, his hand hovering over the hilt of his dagger. The tavern seemed empty, but there was a presence here, something watching him from the shadows.

"Welcome, relic hunter."

The voice came from the far corner of the room. Valerian's hand tightened on his weapon as a figure stepped forward from the darkness. It was a man—tall, dressed in a tattered cloak, with eyes that glinted unnaturally in the low light.

Valerian stayed silent, his body tense.

The man smiled, a slow, calculating grin. "You're in over your head, you know. But I can help you."

Valerian's mind raced. Who was this guy? And why was he offering help?

"What do you want?" Valerian asked, his voice steady despite the tension coiling in his gut.

The man chuckled softly. "I don't want your relic. I want to offer you… an opportunity."

Valerian narrowed his eyes. This smelled like a trap. But he didn't have many options. He had to hear him out.

"I've been watching you," the man continued, his voice smooth and oily. "You've got potential. But this city—this game—it will eat you alive unless you have someone to show you the way."

Valerian's grip on his dagger loosened slightly. "What's in it for you?"

The man's grin widened. "Survival, for both of us. You'll need allies in this world, and I have… information. Valuable information. About the relics, about the dangers that lie ahead."

Valerian's heart raced. Information was the one thing he needed more than anything right now.

The man stepped closer, his eyes gleaming. "What do you say? Shall we make a deal?"

Valerian hesitated, his mind spinning. This could be his only chance to stay alive in Whitechapel. But could he really trust this stranger?

The shadows of the tavern seemed to close in around them, the fog outside thickening. Valerian felt the weight of his decision pressing down on him.

He took a deep breath. "I'm listening."