Manager!

The True Gate?!

Ethan repeated the name under his breath, then narrowed his eyes at Grace. "If your purpose is to awaken those about to be 'purged,' what does 'purge' even mean? And what exactly is this so-called 'reality'?"

Truthfully, he didn't trust a single word that came out of her mouth. What kind of nonsense was she spouting?

He only believed what he could see with his own eyes. In a world that had long since rejected him, any shred of faith in others had eroded away completely.

Grace seemed to sense his skepticism. Her expression softened slightly as she said, "I know you don't trust me. Everyone finds this absurd at first. But caution is wise, Ethan."

She leaned forward, her voice steady but tinged with an unsettling gravity. "What you saw when you awoke—that was reality. Though the Lost World mirrors our own, it has… differences. It forces everyone to act and think according to its will. Those who defy it are erased—silently, completely."

"The malice you've felt these past two years?" She paused, letting the weight of her words settle over him. "That's the world itself targeting you. It drives everyone you know to eliminate you. Your death would 'restore order' to their lives."

"And yet," she continued, her tone sharpening, "you've survived countless attempts on your life. Frankly, I don't know how. Usually, the first to turn against someone like you are their own parents."

Survive by submission, perish by defiance. The phrase echoed grimly in Ethan's mind, sending a chill down his spine.

"If the world wants me dead," he countered, his voice tight with suspicion, "why has the hostility lessened lately? If the malice fades, maybe the world will stop rejecting me. Maybe I can live normally again, without constant fear."

Grace's gaze sharpened, her starry eyes locking onto his with unnerving intensity. "The world isn't giving up—it's assimilating you. The longer you stay, the more it molds you. Once fully assimilated, the malice will vanish…"

She trailed off, her silence heavy with implication before adding softly, "But will you still be you then?"

Ethan froze, the implications sinking in like cold water seeping into cracks. Assimilation meant losing himself entirely—a puppet dancing to the strings of the world's will.

"What about the monsters?" he asked abruptly, breaking the tension. "Failed assimilations?" His thoughts flickered to Zachary Flynn, the once-charismatic class president now transformed into something grotesque and unrecognizable.

Grace shook her head, her expression darkening. "They're viruses. If the world is a body, they're invasive pathogens. Once their disguises fail, they attack indiscriminately."

Her voice dropped to a whisper, carrying an ominous undertone. "This city harbors a City of Sin—a festering pit of depravity, plague, and chaos. Even the world's will can't cleanse it. That's where the corruption spreads."

"Then why haven't I seen more monsters?" Ethan frowned, his brow furrowing in confusion. If corruption ran rampant, the streets should teem with horrors.

"Because of us," Grace replied simply. Without warning, she raised her hand and sliced through a nearby concrete wall as if it were butter. Ethan stared, stunned, as chunks of debris crumbled to the ground.

"We serve the world's will," she explained, brushing dust from her unscathed hand. "We purge these threats. In return, it grants us immunity—and points to enhance our abilities. We're called Overseers."

"Overseers?" Ethan echoed, his voice tinged with disbelief.

Grace nodded. "Complete missions, earn points. Missions are ranked: Level 1 Anomaly (100 points), Level 2 Haunting (200), Level 3 Distortion (500), Level 4 Cataclysm (2,000), and Level 5 Origin of Nightmares (10,000)."

She straightened, her demeanor calm but commanding. "Most handle Anomalies or Hauntings. The City of Sin? That's a Cataclysm—beyond human capability… for now."

As Grace spoke, Ethan felt the enormity of her words pressing down on him. This wasn't just survival—it was war. And he had no idea which side he truly belonged to.