Mythos Reboot

Chapter 8

As the black cat's tiny paw withdrew, Wayne became entranced by the white specks of light appearing within his body. Closing his eyes to sense them, he found a glimmer of radiance amidst endless darkness.

A luminous full moon.

Moonlight flowed like water, its halo resembling silk.

The pure, gentle moonlight resembled slowly flowing clear water, its shimmering ripples elegant and serene, bathing everything in tender radiance.

It was all so comfortingly tranquil that Wayne became utterly immersed. He felt as though being cradled in the goddess's arms, her pale hand caressing his cheek, making him wish only for peaceful withdrawal from the world—to cast aside endless darkness and sleep eternally against the goddess's warm, soft bosom.

No mistake about it - bigger means justice. The Moonlight Goddess clearly appears to be a proper goddess.

As Wayne stared at the mana seed, the grotesque Book of Avarice also turned its gaze, its central eyeball spinning chaotically and distorting Wayne's vision.

From this new perspective, the scene abruptly blurred, veiled in ashen mist.

The Pale Moon.

A pallid disc replaced the silvery moon, its jagged pixels resembling a bootleg recording. Everything was smothered under a gray-white filter. Gone was the elegant tranquility - upon closer inspection, the lunar surface revealed dense clusters of black and gray blemishes pockmarking its sickly glow.

The pale and desolate solitary moon appears gaunt and withered, saturated with deathly stillness and decay. The longer one gazes, the greater the unease; the greater the unease, the deeper the madness.

Damn book! Look what you've done! Turn on the goddess' beauty filter now!

Just as Wayne lamented that all crows are equally black, the undulating cover skin of the Book of Greed began pulsing like breathing. It drained away the grays and blacks, transforming the bootleg version back into Blu-ray clarity, and the moonlight once again became sacred.

The goddess's filter has returned!

Perhaps having glimpsed the goddess's true visage, or perhaps due to the Death Goddess's followers' shameless surrender, Wayne found it impossible to respect this world's deities. Instead of focusing on the flawless white radiance, his gaze turned to the Book of Avarice.

Beside the large eyeball, a slightly smaller eye opened—its grayish-white pupil devoid of any luster or vitality.

Wayne froze momentarily, puzzled by what had occurred. He suspected the Book of Avarice had leveled up, but nothing had changed; its contents remained exactly as before.

Something must have been added though…

Monica's remaining magic seed was still intact. Since the Book of Avarice had no appetite for mana other than its master's, it had left this "potato" untouched.

This relieved Wayne—as expected of code he'd personally written. Even with new emergent features, it maintained its integrity, refusing unearned gains just like him.

Monica had transferred most of her mana into Wayne, leaving her drained and exhausted. Though she longed to lie down and rest, her reluctance to get too close to Wayne gave William an opening—in one swift motion, he scooped her up in his arms.

“Monica, up we go!”

Thud!

“Ouch!”

At this very moment, it was just like that time before - Veronica subdued William with astonishing arm strength and snatched the black cat from his hands.

Monica didn't want to comment on their scuffle. Speaking to Wayne who sat with closed eyes in silence, she said: "Don't rush. Magic condensation isn't achieved overnight - haste makes waste. Relax, don't strain your nerves. Sense the magic seed I left within you. The Moon Goddess will guide you to find your own magic."

Hearing this, Wayne opened his eyes and nodded before closing them again to continue sensing.

Monica took this very seriously. Though this was her first time guiding someone in cultivation without establishing a formal master-disciple relationship, she felt all the nervousness of a first-time teacher. She jumped out of Veronica's arms and circled around Wayne's feet.

Veronica shot her a jealous look, snorted coldly, then crooked her finger at William: "Clean this up. Lock all these guys in crates - remember to knock them out first."

William nodded. They were still school students after all - while fights were acceptable, killing was absolutely out of the question.

According to Veronica's plan, to prevent the Death Walkers from receiving intelligence, not a single follower of the Death Goddess is to be let go. They are to be locked in crates and stored in a separate warehouse. Tomorrow, messenger birds will be used to contact the school, asking the instructors to come and handle the aftermath.

As for the Death Walkers, they will personally pursue them, also to lift the curse upon themselves.

The sooner, the better. With graduation approaching, there's no more time to delay.

Veronica didn't set off overnight for the town of Carfano in the outskirts of Lundun. Though in a hurry, Monica needed rest to replenish her magic. At the earliest, they would depart tomorrow morning.

……

Lundun, shrouded in mist and cold lights.

When nightfall blankets the land, the entire city quickly falls into silence—or perhaps, those making noises are no longer the humans of daylight.

The warehouse district is especially desolate. Workers finish early and head home, some to crowded bars, others to chance upon love by the streets, coming together to explore life's truths. Vast areas lie empty, with flickering streetlights dimming in and out amidst the mist, creating an eerie atmosphere.

The wind whispers through, threading between warehouses and intersections, occasionally wailing like ghostly cries.

Whether it's real crying or fake crying is hard to say, but Wayne only knows there are 'people' all around him. He can distinctly feel numerous pairs of eyes watching him.

Having overly sharp perception isn't always good—Wayne sees potential ghosts everywhere, so close it feels like he could reach out and pull one from the mist.

Out of double caution, he stayed close behind William.

William walked for a while before turning back awkwardly, "Wayne, could you not follow so closely？ It's making me feel unsafe. How about you walk in front instead？"

Hmph, not a chance!

Wayne ignored William and stubbornly stayed behind him. Just then, Veronica, holding a black cat, asked, "Wayne, do you have a car？"

You mages don’t have cars？ Couldn’t you just take one？

Wayne shrugged pragmatically, "I don’t have one, but I can get one. Speed depends on money—the more you pay, the faster I work."

“Can you drive？”

“I can, but I'm not very skilled.”

“That’ll do.”

Veronica nodded, took out a stack of bills featuring the Queen’s portrait from her wallet, handed them to Wayne without counting, and listed a series of supplies she needed him to gather by 10 a.m. the next day.

Wayne took the money and tentatively asked, "Do I have to go too？"

"You don't have to go, but if you miss this chance, who knows when the next opportunity to lift the curse will come. With bad luck, this might be your only chance." Veronica said slowly.

That scary？

Wayne didn't understand and instinctively looked at William. Seeing the latter nod solemnly, he finally chose to believe Veronica.

Wayne: "…"

Oh no, I'd rather trust a gay guy than a beautiful girl!

Speaking of the curse, Wayne had indeed taken advantage to add something extra. He wasn't craving magic power, but the gnawing hunger in his stomach was real. The Book of Greed hadn't devoured the curse energy, so currently the only way to break the curse was to follow Veronica and William.

“Growl~~~”

Hungry.

Lunden's nights were dangerous—this was an undeniable fact. Newspapers frequently carried reports of citizens disappearing while walking at night, coupled with elusive urban legends that made nighttime Lunden even more mysterious.

But more terrifying than danger was being broke. The affluent West and North Districts had vibrant nightlife, and Central Lunden—Inner Lunden—needless to say, was brightly lit year-round, growing more prosperous as night fell, a heaven outsiders would break their heads trying to squeeze into.

Luckily, Wayne managed to hail a taxi, allowing him to return to the detective agency before starving to death.

Guilty over his actions, William took the initiative to cook a table full of delicious dishes. However, before Veronica could even pick up her fork, all the food was devoured by Wayne.

Veronica stared expressionlessly at William: "What are you standing there for？ Go back to the kitchen!"

“We've used up all the ingredients bought this morning. Only potatoes are left.”

Veronica: Potatoes are fine too—better than going hungry.

Wayne: Today, I'll be merciful and give potatoes another chance to prove themselves!

————

After eating his fill, Wayne continued sensing magical energy. Monica, a highly responsible mage, sat with her hands tucked under her chin at her desk, tutoring students and preaching the benevolence of the Moon Goddess to lost little lambs.

For example—the guiding moonlight. The reason they could navigate the fog unimpeded was precisely due to the Moon Goddess's blessing.

Having seen the Moon Goddess's true form, Wayne harbored doubts about Monica's words. But he kept them to himself, obediently accepting his teacher's words—such a well-behaved student sent Monica's sense of accomplishment as an educator skyrocketing.

By the Goddess, this one's worth recruiting as a believer!

Two hours later, trying to butter up his black cat teacher, Wayne asked which brand of dried fish it preferred. The teacher left with a darkened face.

With sharp eyes, Wayne spotted two tiny bells.

Turning around, a darkened face…

Understood—find the teacher a frisky little female cat when nobody's around.

Since staying up late harms health, Wayne decided to pull an all-nighter.

The results weren't great—nodding off near dawn, he had a brief nightmare that jolted him awake.

Or perhaps more accurately, a "hunger" dream.

In the dream, he feasted voraciously, clearing plate after plate with the exaggerated table manners of a starving ghost reincarnate. Those who knew blamed the curse; those who didn't might think he was trying to commit potato suicide.

Beside him, a flustered William kept serving potatoes in various styles. Seeing Wayne devour every last bite of his cooking, he couldn't help but blush with happy embarrassment.

After waking, Wayne covered his face with his hand. "Day's thoughts shape night's dreams"—he understood the logic. Dreaming of hunger made sense, but why William？ Wouldn't the shapely Monica have been more appealing？

As he pondered this, noises from the kitchen reached his ears, stirring momentary gratitude.

There's a saying that rings true—gay men might have ulterior motives, but they all have warm hearts.

Take William for example. Though his rugged exterior makes him seem like a violent brute, he's actually gentle and kind-hearted. Whether it's his warmth-infused defensive magic or waking up before dawn to cook for Wayne, everything proves William is a genuinely good person worth befriending.

This guy's totally reliable!

Dammit, Wayne, snap out of it! He's gaslighting you!

Don't fall for it. Boys must always stay vigilant around gay men—never give them a chance to exploit weaknesses or sneak in through the backdoor.

"Wayne, food's ready! You've got errands to run!" William shouted at the top of his lungs.

“Coming.”