Chapter 22: The Night Watchman

The Academy of Truth, Metropolis Branch of the Kingdom of York.

Though styled as an academy, it spanned a vast territory, resembling a small city more than a school. Rows of Gothic buildings stood in solemn, dignified ranks, but the most striking feature was a spire that pierced the clouds, standing dead center of the grounds.

The Academy of Truth remained the continent’s sole neutral power, transcending both national borders and religious sects.

It abstained from wars, ignored internal politics, and exerted no influence over any creed—treating even the most reviled heretical cults with the same indifference. This stemmed from the Academy’s eternal, absolute creed: “Watch, Record, Persevere.”

It watched reality, recorded history, and ensured the perseverance of civilization.

The only force the Academy of Truth ever recognized as an enemy was the Horror stemming from the Distorted Realm.

Dong… Dong… Dong…

A series of heavy, muffled bell tolls slowly echoed, resonating through the nearly empty grounds of the Academy. Such bells had not sounded in a long time.

Whenever they rang, it meant only one thing: a “Vision” of the Forbidden rank had descended upon the Metropolis.

A “Vision” was an interference of the Distorted Realm upon reality. Usually, it shrouded a specific area, and within its range, even holy flames risked pollution. The Rainy Night was the most infamous of these Visions.

At the very peak of the Academy’s highest spire, a slovenly middle-aged man sat alone. He was nursing a bottle of liquor, flipping through a stack of tawdry magazines with great interest—covers plastered with scantily clad women or deliberately emphasized anatomy.

Just as he was reaching a particularly engrossing part, the bells began to toll. He scratched the back of his head with deep reluctance.

“How troublesome… why does something always have to happen right now?”

At that moment, a gramophone he had tossed into the corner began to spin with a creak. A raspy, high-pitched voice crackled out from the horn.

“Lord Night Watchman! A Vision has descended in the southwest of the Metropolis! We must protect Her Majesty the Queen’s remains. Please, go deal with it!”

“I know, I know…”

The man known as the Night Watchman pulled a long face, leaning on the table as he struggled to stand. He looked debased and incompetent; his slight potbelly and unkempt beard made him look like a common middle-aged failure found in any alleyway.

However… the title “Night Watchman” spoke for itself.

Night was the playground of Horror, the wilderness beyond the borders of human civilization. The duty of a Night Watchman was to stand within the darkness and guard the Burning Spark of humanity.

“Still… it’s broad daylight. Why is a Vision appearing now? This is a massive waste of my time…”

Grumbling, the Night Watchman grabbed a bottle of booze and pushed open his door.

Outside the room lay a spiral staircase leading downward. Along its sides stood row after row of tightly sealed, pitch-black chambers.

The Night Watchman descended with a calm expression, even as unimaginable roars, lamentations, and unbearable temptations hissed in his ears. This most prominent spire was known as the Tower of Containment. Legends whispered that the Academy’s Dean, a figure who had reached the Divine Domain, had built it with his own hands.

The entities contained within were all Horrors that could not be purged by ordinary means, or Visions restricted by specific conditions. In the worst-case scenario—if the Tower of Containment collapsed—every Horror and Vision would be unleashed. Not just the Metropolis, but the entire Kingdom of York would be doomed.

The “Night Watchman” existed solely to prevent that catastrophe.

This was likely why the Academy of Truth maintained neutrality regardless of the country it occupied. It wasn’t due to grand goals or noble ideals, but rather possessive strength and a sufficiently dangerous deterrent.

Today was the day of the Queen’s funeral. Because Queen Isabelle herself had been a powerful Transcendental and the monarch of the realm, her remains were not only top-tier Potion materials for many sects but also a potential breeding ground for Horror.

Consequently, the Academy’s faculty had mobilized en masse to escort her body until the Great Sea Burial was complete. Partially, this was because Isabelle II had been a student of the Academy; many of the faculty had been her teachers and maintained a good relationship with her. Sending off the great Queen was a gesture from their hearts.

Yet, at this critical juncture, a Forbidden-rank Vision had manifested in the Metropolis under the light of the holy sun, forcing the man guarding the Tower of Containment to act.

The Night Watchman realized this, which was exactly why he found it so bothersome.

“Fine. I’ve been a shut-in for years; I suppose I should go out for some fresh air.”

Stepping out of the gloomy, oppressive Tower, he took a long breath and squinted toward the horizon.

“The scale doesn’t look too large… let’s have a look.”

He casually plucked a twig from a nearby tree and began walking at a leisurely pace.

***

“A Vision? Truly, a Horror…”

Sato Minako felt the changes in her surroundings, her twisted, deformed throat emitting a voice of disbelief.

A miniature Spectral Kolun County had enveloped the area, dragging it into a different dimension—a plane where dreams and reality intertwined.

The surrounding buildings, both low and tall, grew limbs. Billboards began dancing around her, and the Gas Streetlamps swayed their “heads” as if singing a soulful ballad. Everything had come to life; under Clecia’s pollution, they had birthed a twisted consciousness.

This pollution was spreading into Sato Minako as well. An odd, overpowering thought bubbled up in her heart, impossible to shake.

I am a spittoon… I am a spittoon… I am a spittoon…

She watched as her own mouth stretched open to a tearing degree, her hands moving to her hips like the handles of a basin.

Luo Wei was seeing Clecia use her consciousness pollution offensively for the first time. Although this was Clecia’s trait as a Horror, her previous uses had been to protect the souls of the residents within the Spectral Kolun County. This display—vividly twisting the will of a living person—was exceptionally gruesome.

“Sister Wei, should I destroy her completely?”

Clecia asked excitedly. Watching Sato Minako’s agony made the corners of her mouth curl up uncontrollably. Anyone who offended Miss Luo Wei deserved to die!

“There’s no need,” Luo Wei replied, shaking her head.

She knew Sato Minako’s trump card. The woman could turn her physical body into a source of viral contagion, releasing her diseases without restraint to contaminate the entire area. The cost was the irreversible collapse of her body; even if she survived, her Transcendental abilities would be weakened to an unbearable degree.

To put it simply, before Sato Minako died, she could “explode like a cesspit.” For the sake of the Metropolis’s environment, Luo Wei felt that until she found a way to “lid the pit,” it was better not to let it blow.

More importantly, she didn’t have much of a personal grudge against Sato Minako. By sifting through the woman’s memories, Luo Wei had already discovered her goal.

It coincides with Cassandra’s plan to some extent…

Sato Minako was the “Black Glove” for Susanna—the Third Princess, known for being so kind and gentle she would weep for an injured animal. Her mission wasn’t to kill Virginia, but to take her. It was only out of personal malice and a twisted curiosity that Sato had chosen to “play” with her on the spot, leading to this encounter with Luo Wei.

Susanna knew her sister valued this little maid highly. By holding Virginia, Susanna would gain significant leverage over Cassandra.

“Struggles for the throne,” Luo Wei sighed, shaking her head. She turned to Clecia. “Time’s up, Cleo. You should head back first.”

“So… so soon?” Clecia looked at Luo Wei with tearful eyes. “Sister Wei, did I not do well enough?”

“No, but if you stay any longer, the person coming to ‘collect’ you will arrive,” Luo Wei sighed. “This isn’t Kolun County. This is the Metropolis. The Academy of Truth is right here.”

Luo Wei had done her research on the Academy of Truth, which Hathaway and Eliana had mentioned many times. Having Hathaway’s memories meant she was well aware of the “Tower of Containment” and the “Night Watchmen.” These weren’t secrets; they were the Academy’s public deterrents.

While Clecia might be the first Horror in history with a clear consciousness, the Academy wouldn’t care for such distinctions. Luo Wei didn’t want to bet on them being willing to sit down and talk.

“Alright.”

Clecia desperately wanted to stay, but she nodded obediently. She glanced around before opening the door to the “Wondrous House” and exiting the dimension.

With Clecia’s departure, the polluted surroundings returned to normal, and the Vision dissipated. Sato Minako was still struggling against the “Spittoon” thought; she had to convince herself she wasn’t an object. Her Transcendental abilities weren’t suited for resisting consciousness pollution, making the struggle agonizingly difficult.

Seizing the moment before the Night Watchman arrived, Luo Wei whisked Virginia away.

Shortly after she left, the Night Watchman finally arrived. He first admired Sato Minako’s naked body with an appreciative gaze, completely unbothered by the large black patterns of disease marring her skin. By now, Sato’s symptoms were being suppressed, and her struggling consciousness was returning; at the very least, she looked human again.

“Not bad,” the Night Watchman remarked with satisfaction before turning his eyes to the environment. Moments later, his expression sharpened slightly. “Wait…”

He had thought this was a standard Vision. His experience was vast; even the Visions that triggered the Academy’s bells were mostly routine to him. Even “Forbidden” Visions had varying levels of severity.

The Rainy Night was Forbidden, but if a dangerous Ascension Ritual were performed within it, the pollution would create something even worse.

“It seems… this was only a small fraction of it…” After a moment of observation and an Inspiration check, the Night Watchman realized a terrifying fact. “This isn’t a normal Vision. This requires a heavy hand!”

If this Vision could fully envelop the entire Metropolis, even the Tower of Containment couldn’t handle it; they’d have to call out the Dean. “How troublesome…” the Night Watchman sighed.

Nearby, Sato Minako slowly drifted back to reality. Finally waking from the nightmare of being a “Spittoon,” she looked around but saw neither the “Maid” nor Virginia. There was only a lecherous-looking middle-aged man. In her daze, she realized she had failed.

“I’m so unwilling…” she murmured with resentment.

She looked at the Night Watchman, who was watching her, his eyes wandering over her frame. “Hello, young lady.”

The moment he spoke, Sato Minako lunged at him, whispering deliriously, “Sir, I think we’ve met before…”

As she spoke, she rubbed her body against him.

“I’ve enjoyed many ladies of the Succubus Pathway, but you weren’t one of them,” the Night Watchman said honestly. “Of course, if you want a quick tumble right here, I don’t mind. I just need to set up some protective measures first…”

Sato Minako’s expression froze. Weakened as she was, she had intended to use this man to recover her strength through seduction and infection, only for him to call out her identity instantly. Protective measures? If he protected himself, how could she recover? Her powers relied on spreading pollution.

At that thought, a flash of cruelty crossed her face. A pink mist began to permeate the air. Since she couldn’t infect him directly, she would use unconventional means!

However, before she could react, she saw a simple tree branch grow larger in her vision, approaching rapidly. An intense premonition of danger struck her.

“Wait!”

Sato Minako didn’t hesitate. she prepared to trigger a full-scale outbreak to contaminate the area. The first to die would be this lecherous man!

But she never got the chance. A flash of cold light suppressed her eruption mid-burst.

“How…?” she screamed, but the sound was cut short. The twig pierced her throat, stifling her voice completely without taking her life.

“I’d love to spend a spring night with you, but I have more important things to do. Please cooperate,” the Night Watchman said, lifting Sato Minako up by the twig to his eye level. He asked kindly, “Which Princess is backing you? I should go say hello beforehand so we don’t have any misunderstandings.”