Ryan slowly sat up, his gaze landing on the door of the ward as his expression darkened bit by bit.
Should he run?
The moment the thought surfaced, he dismissed it.
He looked down at the side of the bed.
Alvin had just paid for this private ward in advance.
At the thought, Ryan's mouth twitched.
“The money was just paid...”
Running now felt like a massive waste.
But in the next second, the bitter smile on his face vanished without a trace.
Money.
That was no longer the point.
The real issue was that he had been exposed.
Someone knew he was hospitalized, knew his ward number, and could even precisely manipulate an ordinary nurse to make a move on him after Alvin left. This meant his movements had already fallen into the sight of some organization.
And in this world, exposure itself meant death.
No one would talk about the law with you.
No one would wait for you to grow.
As long as they confirmed you were in the way, or knew something you shouldn't, then knives, poisons, dreams, or rituals—any of them could descend upon you in the next second.
Ryan slowly closed his eyes.
He had been too reckless after all.
At the port, he thought he was just saving people. But looking back now, from discovering the warehouse to contacting the ghouls, and then getting involved in the entire East Port incident, he had exposed himself too deeply.
Thinking of this, he suddenly recalled the novels from his past life.
Those protagonists almost always had a disguise mask on hand. They would attend an auction in the morning, kill and rob people for treasures at night, and then simply change their faces to continue their operations.
At the time, he had found it a bit exaggerated.
Now, he couldn't help but sigh.
“That kind of thing... is actually really useful.”
At least he wouldn't have to immediately think about moving the moment his identity was exposed like he was now.
Ryan adjusted his glasses, his mind spinning rapidly.
If he wanted to hide his tracks...
The Lantern Principle couldn't do it. The Forge Principle couldn't do it. The Winter Principle was even less capable of it.
The only aspect truly skilled in identity, change, chaos, and disguise was Moth.
Chris.
That madman, who never let anyone know which of his words were true or false, might actually have a way to completely scramble his tracks, causing anyone searching for him to lose their way.
But the problem was...
How was he supposed to find him?
Moth Port itself was constantly shifting.
Today it was a port, tomorrow it might be a wilderness, and the day after, it could turn into a strange town.
Without Chris actively appearing, trying to find him in a dream was like searching for a needle in a haystack.
Ryan rubbed his forehead in frustration.
“Dammit...”
Of all times, he didn't even have laudanum on hand.
Without laudanum, he couldn't even actively enter a dream tonight.
And reality...
Ryan slowly swept his gaze across the ward.
Pristine white walls, a quiet corridor, and snow falling outside the window. Everything looked so peaceful.
But he knew it was no longer safe here.
The hospital wasn't safe, the apartment wasn't safe, and the Archive... might not be safe either.
Since the enemy could stretch their hands into the hospital, how many places in London were actually free of their influence?
Ryan slowly clenched his fists.
For the first time, he truly realized that in this world, he was never facing just one or two extraordinary beings, but a massive organization that had been rooted in the city for who knew how many years.
He stared down at his knuckles, which had turned white from clenching so hard. He remained silent for a long time.
How... how else could he break this deadlock?
His movements froze.
Why was he always thinking of running?
Hadn't he already started to learn about rituals?
He was exposed. But conversely, in trying to kill him, the other party had also exposed themselves.
Since the hunter could find the prey, why couldn't the prey turn around and hunt the hunter?
At this thought, Ryan's eyes lit up bit by bit.
The two books Chris had given him: 《Lantern》 and 《Relics》.
Coupled with the Secret Histories lore he had accumulated recently, and the theories Alvin had explained, though it was far from enough to support a truly complex ritual, it might not be impossible to piece together the simplest prototype.
His breathing grew slightly rapid as the knowledge in his mind constantly collided.
The understanding of Lantern. The chaos of Moth. Relics as anchors. Blood as the connection. Fragmented concepts constantly rearranged themselves.
Just then, Ryan suddenly remembered something else.
That sea. More precisely, that indescribably massive entity beneath the sea.
Strangely, when he recalled it now, he no longer felt that splitting headache from before.
Although he still couldn't accurately describe its appearance, that incomprehensible outline remained quietly in the depths of his memory like a blurry shadow.
Ryan slowly raised his head.
What if he took the Lantern's glory and merged it with a bit of the impression left by that entity?
Once this thought appeared, he could no longer suppress it.
His eyes grew brighter and brighter, like a furnace fire.
“Lantern is responsible for illuminating.”
“That entity is responsible for chaos.”
“If the two are combined...”
“Could I create a mental imprint that even extraordinary beings cannot easily lock onto?”
His thoughts raced faster and faster, his excitement building.
He laid out the items on the table one by one: an unburnt white candle, his glasses—or more precisely, the lenses.
The Lantern reflects all things, and the mirror reflects the Lantern. It was the most natural medium.
Then, Ryan extended his left hand, pricked his fingertip, and let his blood slowly drip down.
Scarlet droplets of blood landed on the glass lenses, slowly spreading and casting a faint sheen under the gas lamp.
His concentration intensified as countless pieces of knowledge locked together like gears in his mind.
A highly crude, yet barely self-consistent ritual structure was actually deduced by him bit by bit.
The purpose was very simple: concealment and chaos. To make it impossible for his pursuers to find his true self.
If he could also leave a bit of mental pollution for the pursuers, that would be even better.
At this thought, the corners of Ryan's mouth curled up involuntarily, his smile growing more and more pronounced.
A hint of almost fanatical light even surfaced in his eyes.
“Not enough... Still missing something...”
His gaze slowly fell to the side of the bed. The nurse was still unconscious, breathing steadily, completely defenseless.
Looking at her, a thought suddenly flashed in Ryan's mind.
Sacrifice.
If he used a living person's life as the price, would this ritual be even more complete?
Ryan slowly stood up.
One step, two steps, he walked over to the nurse and slowly crouched down.
His fingers had already touched the scalpel that had fallen on the floor.
At that exact moment, his body suddenly froze. He remained silent for over ten seconds.
Ryan suddenly closed his eyes, then took a sharp, deep breath, as if he had just woken up from a nightmare.
“...What was I thinking?”
He looked down at his hands, his knuckles slightly white from clenching too hard.
That wasn't his own thought at all—at least, not entirely.
The desire for knowledge brought by the Lantern, combined with the impulse of Moth eroding his sanity, had unknowingly begun to affect his judgment.
If he had been just a second slower, perhaps he really would have killed an innocent person with his own hands just to verify a hypothesis.
Ryan fell silent for a long time.
Then, he put away the scalpel, bent down, and dragged the nurse out into the corridor outside the ward. He leaned her gently against the wall, and then reached out to ring the call button at the nurse's station.
Having done all this, he returned to the ward and slowly locked the door.
This time, his eyes regained their calm.
On the table, the white candle, the lenses, and the blood lay quietly.
Ryan took a deep breath.
“Sacrifice... Let's forget about that.”
“Start with the simplest one first.”
Then, he extended both hands and began to construct his very first ritual, bit by bit.
Rate on N.U.
