I’m grinding experience in the Cthulhu.

In the year 163 of the New Calendar, during the frost's descent, in the Kingdom of Faruk, within the Noah Province, lies the town of Zak in the city of Rhine. The makeshift holding room of the police is cramped and stifling, with green and blackish-gray mold creeping across half the walls, and a thick layer of dust covering the floor. The door of the room is a black iron grate secured by a rusty chain, both showing signs of neglect. Crouched in a corner, Crown contemplates a philosophical quandary that has troubled humanity for ages: "Who am I? Where did I come from? Where am I going?" The distant roar of a steam engine fills the air, mingling with the musty scent of decay and urine, reminding him once more that he has entered a strange new world. He is not of this realm—or rather, he wasn't just a day ago! In his past life, he was merely an inconspicuous programmer, preferring to indulge in video games, novels, and films during his sparse free time. Little did he know that last night, while burning the midnight oil to revise a client's new demands, he would suddenly experience a sharp pain in his chest and lose consciousness. When he awoke this morning, he found himself reincarnated into the body of a young man named Crown. "Time for your meal," called a hefty policeman with a bushy beard, as he set a wooden tray at the door and shook the chain with vigor. The harsh clatter of metal jolted Crown back to reality, as hunger surged like a tidal wave. He braced himself against the wall and staggered toward the door. The tray was speckled with dark stains, nearly obscuring its original pattern. On it lay a piece of black bread and a cup of water, the ceramic vessel cracked at the rim. Crown grasped the bread and water through the bars, taking a small sip of water before stuffing the coarse, wood-chip-laden bread into his mouth. The rough texture made him grimace, prompting a hasty gulp of water to swallow it down. "There’s been a case of possession in a nearby village. A widow, overtaken by an evil spirit, awoke as if transformed, unable to speak or recognize her neighbors. The villagers noticed the oddities, and the captain along with the priest have gone to investigate." Evil spirit? What sort of nonsense is that? His eating paused as he looked up to see the policeman studying him, as if trying to pierce through to his very soul. Fragments of unfamiliar memories surged forth, and he felt as if he had lived another person’s life in mere moments. Crown thought to himself, "Just after my arrival, I’m already suspected of being unusual? Damn!" This world bore an uncanny resemblance to Victorian-era Europe, with steam engines in widespread use, presenting a façade of prosperity. Yet, after an eerie celestial event—when a crimson moon vied with the sun for dominance—strange transformations swept across the land. The night became a playground for monsters; formless evil spirits surged from unknown dark corners, revealing hidden horrors among the populace that preyed upon the unsuspecting. Each night, some would die in bizarre ways—either without a single wound or with their bodies horrifically dismembered. Others vanished without a trace, or returned changed, unrecognizable to their neighbors. These inexplicable occurrences were all deemed supernatural events. Such incidents were not uncommon in the kingdom and seemed to be on the rise, prompting the establishment of a specialized agency to handle them within the government. In the neighborhood where his former self lived, Skunk Street, an evil spirit incident occurred last night, leaving him as the sole survivor among his family and neighbors. When he was discovered, he was still in a daze from his recent transition, unable to respond to inquiries—this was how he ended up in the police holding room. Zak Town, being relatively small, lacked a dedicated agency for dealing with supernatural matters, leaving the priest in charge. Otherwise, he might have already faced judgment. "No matter how powerful an evil spirit may be, it’s easier to deal with in the initial days after possession. A single fire can resolve the issue, wouldn’t you agree?" The burly policeman stroked his beard with an air of casual assurance. Another memory flickered in Crown's mind—he had witnessed an evil spirit exorcism before, indeed, it was often as simple as setting a fire. He realized he must not let anyone discover that he had swapped bodies! Otherwise, he might become a victim himself. Crown managed to force a smile, his face rigid: "I feel quite dizzy; I can't seem to recall anything from last night." Having just integrated unfamiliar memories, he could stumble through a few sentences in the local tongue. The policeman regarded him with an enigmatic smile, raising an eyebrow: "You can’t recall last night at all? What’s my name?" Straining to remember, Crown felt the name dance just out of reach, frustratingly unable to articulate it. "It seems there are no true survivors from this evil spirit incident. Enjoy your final meal!" The policeman shook his head with a hint of regret and turned to leave. "Can’t you give me a moment to think?" Crown leaped to his feet, gripping the bars tightly, yet he still could not recall the name. From the policeman's tone, they seemed to be acquainted. "I need to say something." Suddenly, a hazy memory surfaced—he had once delivered several pink vials to this very officer! His former father was an herbalist, skilled in concocting various potions, and it was his father who had sent him to make the delivery. "About that last delivery, it was my creation. Hope it worked well?" Crown called out. Seeing the policeman whirl around, he felt a flicker of confidence and continued, "I must have experienced something shocking, but I’m recovering, and my memory is slowly coming back." With no other options, he had to stall for time; he couldn’t let anyone suspect he had changed identities. "You better regain your memory quickly; tomorrow the priest will return after dealing with the possessed, and he will scrutinize you." The policeman scrutinized him once more before departing. "What do I do now? I don’t want to be burned alive!" Crown felt as if all strength had drained from him, collapsing to the floor, his gaze devoid of focus. Suddenly, a translucent golden wall appeared before him, inscribed with several lines of gray text in familiar simplified characters. [Faruk Language: 376/1000; Level 1] (You have a limited grasp of this language, able to articulate only a few common words.) [Herbalism: 392/1000; Level 1] (You can recognize some common herbs, and perhaps create low-toxicity potions on a lucky day.) [Shooting: 106/1000; Level 1] (You can pull the trigger adeptly, but whether you hit your target is beyond your control!) What is this? Instinctively, Crown reached forward, his hand passing right through the wall. The barrier was not solid; it merely occupied his retina's perception. Had his luck finally arrived in the form of a golden touch upon his crossing? How delightful! Crown soon accepted the presence of the golden wall; after all, isn’t it expected for a reincarnator to have such a guide? As for any hidden machinations or whether he was a mere lab rat, he didn’t care at all! Even if there were sinister forces, they would likely wait until he grew stronger before attempting to harvest him. For now, survival was paramount; he must not be burned as a possessed soul. Understanding the golden wall was straightforward, much like skill levels in ancient online games; as long as he focused, the wall would appear at his command. In a whisper only he could hear, he uttered his name: "Crown Moira." The numbers on the wall concerning the Faruk language remained unchanged. After a moment's contemplation, he pressed his mind for new words, recalling a fresh term's pronunciation and spelling, then softly articulated it. A miracle occurred: he could feel the precise way to pronounce the word, its various meanings, and the contexts in which it could be used… He summoned the golden wall once more, and the numbers had shifted. [Faruk Language: 377/1000; Level 1] With diligent practice, he could improve his proficiency and gain insights that would aid in memory recovery. A smile spread across Crown’s face, reaching his ears.