"Stop!"
"Yes, sir!"
"I don't think I've seen you around here before. Are you a believer?"
"Absolutely, sir!"
"Do you believe in God?"
"Sure thing."
"What god or gods do you worship?"
"You've got to be kidding. The Luminous One, of course!"
"That's not true. How many gods do you believe in?"
"Bless the Luminous One!"
"Is your god male or female?"
"Huh?" Ederick Croft looked at the Watchpost of the Luminous Covenant's Patroler in front of him. His hands were shaking as he held his sister's hand, and sweat was dripping on his palms.
If he wanted to survive here, he had to take every question about religion seriously. The Covenant Corrector would come by for a visit if you made even the smallest mistake.
"Don't be nervous. I'm just messing with you." The patrolman's face was blank as he continued, "We've received reports that someone saw a guy who looked like the Ripper in this area. The person described in the report looks a lot like you..."
When Ederick heard this, his pupils got smaller. Patroler were a lot more difficult to deal with than police officers. They were pros at dealing with nonbelievers and heretics, and they had unbelievable strength.
His sister had warned him not to come here, even to the relatively lawless East District. It was really dangerous to leave your own neighborhood, especially at that time. The Patroler were pretty sensitive, especially at that time.
To reduce suspicion, he brought his ten-year-old sister with him. Usually, the kids made the Patroler less vigilant.
But Ederick Croft took a big risk to come to this unfamiliar area to sell a demon statue that looked like it was worth a fortune.
The statue was about the size of a football. Its dark green stone surface was covered in spiderweb-like patterns that looked like an ancient tree trunk split by lightning and then healed.
The patterns carved into it were even more unsettling, with twisted vines wrapping around bizarre geometric symbols, like forbidden symbols from a banned manuscript.
There was an old guy sitting on top of it, wearing a long robe with snake-like patterns all over it. His sunken eye sockets looked like black holes.
He had an object in his left hand that looked like a crozier with two fingers sticking out, like the forked horns of some giant creature. It had a sharp, dangerous vibe.
The old man's robe had a curled hem that looked like the tentacles of a sea monster about to eat a ship.
A circle of runes around the base glowed with a dark red light, looking like curses written in blood. The strokes twisted and contorted like living creatures writhing beneath the surface, giving off an unsettling vibe.
Ederick hadn't planned on coming here, but he had no choice. His mom's sudden death was the last straw for the family. As a poor working-class family, the loss of a laborer meant they were totally broke. There wouldn't be any money for next month's rent.
It's kind of ironic, though, because even though the laborer was dead and couldn't earn wages anymore, the month's taxes still had to be paid. They could only go to the tax office to stop paying taxes after getting a death certificate from the church.
But they didn't have the money for the funeral costs. In this city, leaving a body behind and not paying taxes were both illegal. So, they couldn't get a death certificate.
The best solution was to first pay this month's taxes, dispose of the body, and then have the police issue a missing person report the following month so that they wouldn't have to pay taxes. This was just how the folks in Grayrat Alley usually did things.
But they couldn't stand to leave their mom's body in some dark corner like it was trash. Even if they couldn't give her a proper burial, they wanted her to rest in peace.
But they needed money.
Ederick caught a glimpse of a dark red silk ribbon peeking out from under his sister Miryam's cloak, which was wrapped around a statue of a demon god.
His heart was beating fast, but he told himself to stay calm. He took a half step forward to block the patrol officer's view.
The cop's eyes had already locked onto the red silk, like an eagle's. "What's your sister hiding?"
He suddenly reached out to grab Miryam's cloak.
"Stop!" Ederick jumped out of the way to block him and knocked the patrolman's baton out of his waistband in the chaos.
The baton hummed, emitting a blue arc of light. The cop swore and grabbed Ederick by the collar. The two of them started grappling with each other in the tight alleyway.
The patrolman was a professional Inquisitor, so he was far stronger than the average person. He could kill a bull with just a baton.
He was also surprised that this seemingly slender young man was so strong and able to hold his own against him.
Ederick felt his back bump against the cold brick wall and smelled the mix of leather and rust from the patrolman's body.
In the chaos, Miryam screamed. Ederick was taken aback by the sudden jolt of an electric baton. His feet slipped, and he swung his arms around like a madman to keep from falling over.
"Watch out!" Miryam shouted when Ederick's back hit the metal pipe sticking out from the wall at the corner.
The sharp metal edge sliced across his temple, sending a searing pain that made stars explode before his eyes. His body collapsed backward uncontrollably. When his head hit the cold stone floor, he heard a dull crack, like bones breaking, and his sister screaming. The demon statue hidden deep within the cloak had an eerie glow.
Patroler swore, shoving Ederick's limp body to the side and frantically searching through his clothes.
After confirming there were no "contraband items," he spat, holstered the stun baton at his waist, and said, "Looks like the informant made a mistake. You're lucky, little girl."
The patroller left the girl behind. Ederick's fingers twitched involuntarily in the pool of blood, and his fingertips were just centimeters away from the statue hidden in the crack between the stone slabs.
Ederick refused to give up. He just wanted to use the statue to make some money. The blood spread slowly over the statue of the evil god, which emitted a faint glow and transformed into a tattoo on Ederick's body.
At that moment, Ederick, who looked like he was dead, opened his eyes again.
Six months earlier, Earth.
March 2025, Prague. He carried a white plastic box filled with groceries and old books, staggering through the night on Wenceslas Square. He was mentally and physically exhausted after a hard day's work.
"Did I go too far this time?" he thought to himself. Out of nowhere, he saw two drunk dudes fighting outside a bar. The young woman, who was pretty tipsy and almost unsteady on her feet, nailed a classic shoulder throw to the middle-aged man with the beard.
The guy was from the Czech Republic and had a Ph.D. in agriculture from a major Eastern European country. Tuition and living expenses in China were pretty affordable, and he lived quite comfortably there. He was actually so comfortable that he didn't even want to go back home.
But then a blonde idiot caused a bunch of problems, so he had to leave the place he loved.
Besides the money, another thing was that his girlfriend of five years had left him for a Korean idol.
An idol? An idol? What was so special about that fair-haired guy? He was just younger, richer, thinner, better-looking, and a better dancer. How was he better than me?
Just because he's an idol doesn't mean those girls are losing their minds and throwing themselves at him. He was furious, resentful, and helpless, and he vented his anger online by posting trash talk about the idol.
He was even more depressed when someone tracked down his personal information and exposed him after he posted those comments. Even his address in Brno was exposed!
It's clear that this Korean idol had a lot of influence with fans worldwide. Before more threatening letters arrived, he moved from Brno to Prague, thinking no one would find him there.
He glanced at his phone wallpaper, which had a picture of a girl with dark hair and dark eyes. "I shouldn't have come back. I wonder if I can even be an idol at my age?"
But reality can be tough. He currently works part-time as a clerk at a secondhand bookstore called Černý Kůň (Black Horse Bookstore) in Prague's Old Town and does some warehouse work on the side.
Every day, he has to tell tourists, "There's no English edition of The Metamorphosis here," and he has to handle tons of old books by himself.
Usually, it's not too hard for a Ph.D. grad from a certain Eastern Asian country to find a good job, but he decided to focus on "technical dissemination of ancient Chinese agricultural texts and the modernization of European agriculture."
On top of that, the job market in the Czech Republic right now isn't looking too bright. Local businesses and farmers seem more likely to hire Eastern European refugees, who are seen as a better value for money.
Luckily, he adapted to his situation quickly. He quickly found a new purpose in life. He'd always loved reading, and the ancient texts at the bookstore opened his eyes to new worlds.
Ludvík Hora was obsessed with beer, to the point of becoming an anonymous brewer. He even invented a terrible homemade beer called "Bibliothèque du Diable," filtered through moldy old book pulp and mixed with Soviet-era cough syrup. The boss hoped it would have the "philosophical essence of camphor balls." One morning, Ludvík Hora kicked open the warehouse door and threw a pile of rodent-chewed paper at his employee. "The 1935 Agricultural Tools Yearbook! Do you know how much it'll cost to restore?" He pointed to the yellowed 27th page of the employee handbook. "Rodent damage must be compensated at 300% of the original price," a rule that dates back to the Austro-Hungarian Empire.
He said the accusation was false. "According to J. R. R. Tolkien's 'Mouse Track Identification Method,' these 8 mm tooth marks belong to young mice. The pH test paper shows that the warehouse humidity is only 5.2. Usually, an acidic environment would mess with a rodent's ability to reproduce. It's pretty clear that someone violated Article 48 of the Czech Animal Protection Law by using human snacks to lure protected urban wildlife."
Ludvík's face turned as red as a pig's liver, and his thick fingers trembled as he pointed at the protagonist's nose. "Stop spreading rumors! I'm the boss. I'm the one who decides who gets rewarded or punished. If you're not up for working here, maybe it's best to find something else." The boss was pretty firm, but it didn't matter. Ludvik was used to dealing with people like that.
That same evening, he sent a 3D scan of the mouse-chewed paper to the Medical History Laboratory at Charles University with the subject line: Hey, just a heads-up: there's an urgent report about a possible case of the 1720 plague bacteria.
The next day at noon, as the sirens of the biosafety vehicle filled the quiet of the old town, Ludvík was shaving in front of the mirror and almost cut his chin. He hurried down the stairs and saw four people in white protective suits and gas masks loading shredded paper into sealed boxes. The bookstore's only employee was over there, waving the urgent lab documents. "They said the hemp fibers in these paper scraps might have traces of 15th-century plague bacilli." "What—what?!" Ludvik's razor fell to the ground with a clatter, making a sharp echo on the cobblestones.
"Don't worry. It's just possible." He just gave a shrug as he watched the staff seal off the warehouse with yellow caution tape. "But, according to Article 32 of the EU Infectious Disease Prevention and Control Act, this area has to stay sealed 24/7 until the test results come back. Oh, and one more thing." He looked up the labor law provisions on his phone. The Labor Inspection Bureau said that I should get 120% of my wages during the forced shutdown due to force majeure.
The boss looked at the red seal, then suddenly grabbed the protagonist's arm. "What about my losses? Those books..."
"The cultural relic restoration expert is coming next week to check them out." The employee pulled out his sleeve, which was all crumpled up. Ludvik let go of his hand and took two steps back. His lower back bumped into a wooden shelf stacked with old books, and a 19th-century copy of The Complete Guide to Beer Brewing fell with a thud, hitting his foot.
The main character bent down to pick up the book and saw Ludvík's signature on the title page from when he was young. Back then, he had dreamed of becoming a master brewer instead of a bookstore owner with a sharp tongue. "Hey, boss." The employee tapped the book's spine and pulled a wilted sprig of sage from his pocket.
"Did you know? Sage, like lavender, is a natural rodent repellent." He stuck the plant into Ludvík's beer glass. "You might want to try adding some of this to your homemade brew.
It's more 'philosophical' than cough syrup." Ludvík looked at the cultural relic seal on the warehouse door. He looked just as grumpy as his beer. The employee bent down and picked up a white plastic box filled with groceries and old books.
He didn't have to work for a while, so he picked out a few items that interested him to take home and study. He couldn't just sit around. As he passed Wenceslas Square, a commotion erupted in the crowd.
There was a woman running down the street, looking crazy, and she was swinging a meat cleaver.
She looked at Edrick and muttered, "Keyboard warrior... Die..."
Before he could react, the cold blade had already pierced his lower back, easily cutting through his skin, muscles, and lungs.
"What are you? A keyboard warrior hiding behind a screen? Die!" The woman screamed hysterically.
"Fuck..." He turned his head, not by choice, wanting to see the killer's face. But he found out that the woman holding the knife was the same drunk he'd seen earlier, fighting.
Why? You were fighting each other. Why'd you stab me like that?
This has to be premeditated murder!
His thoughts were interrupted as the cold blade and hot blood left his body at the same time.
At that moment, he was totally wiped out and fell to the ground. The cardboard box was knocked over and its contents scattered everywhere, including a stone statue the size of a soccer ball in the style of Eastern Taoist art.
The statue also fell into the pool of blood. After the attack, the attacker was gone. If it weren't for the guy lying on the ground, barely hanging on, you'd think the attacker was just a figment of your imagination.
"Answer my call, I need your help... Help me..." He could barely hear a faint, almost human female voice in his ears.
He felt really dizzy, like he was about to pass out. When he woke up again, he was horrified to realize he couldn't control his body, not even his eyes.
He was completely blind and deaf, and he could only perceive his surroundings through a strange sense. The air smelled like rotten eggs, mixed with the smell of blood and burning incense.
He "saw" himself standing on a dirty street, the ground covered with sewage and garbage. Compared to the Prague he remembered, this place was even more run down and dirty, like a forgotten corner left behind by the gods.
I wanted to become an idol, and the universe granted my wish... in the most literal and twisted way possible. Now I'm a fucking evil god statue!