Before long, Singapore's authorities arrived at the scene.
But there was nothing left—only a bottomless crater. The city itself had suffered damage to varying degrees.
The Queen Hotel, which had stood there moments ago, was gone without a trace. Not even rubble remained.
Under the brilliant night sky, a single gemstone lay discarded nearby, lonely and glittering—silent proof that the hotel had once existed at all.
And the one responsible?
At this very moment, he was sitting comfortably in a room.
The interior was exquisitely decorated in an old European style. Aside from the lighting, the arrangement oddly reminded him of Volcano Manor.
Yet the most unbelievable part was this:
He was on something called an aerial battleship.
Outside the door were metallic corridors—cold, industrial, and unmistakably modern—yet the room itself looked like it belonged in some aristocrat's estate.
He still didn't fully understand what an aerial battleship was, but it was probably some kind of flying vehicle.
Across from him sat a man so beautiful he could pass for a girl at a glance, every movement carrying the refined elegance of nobility.
Blond hair, blue eyes, long hair tied into a single ponytail draped over his left shoulder.
He looked about twenty, pale-skinned, flawlessly handsome.
A white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, a purple outer coat with a cape-like drape and gold-trimmed edges, gray trousers, and brown boots.
Otto Apocalypse.
The current Overseer of Schicksal.
Over five hundred years old, no parents to speak of, and—if you asked the internet—profession: Yasuo.
Also one of the most assassinated-in-theory men in the world.
Otto seemed to be talking to him and Hu Tao about something.
But the Tarnished hadn't listened to a word.
He was holding a black leather-bound book titled Call of Cthulhu, reading with genuine interest.
The language didn't match his world, so it was slow going—but he could still grasp enough to follow the gist.
"Oh, my friends. Thank you again for your assistance," Otto said warmly. "As your host, may I ask what reward you would like?"
"Me, me, me! I want to open a Wangsheng Funeral Parlor branch here!" Hu Tao instantly sprang to life, raising her hand like an excited child.
This was her dream—finally within reach.
"Mm. Of course. That will not be a problem."
"Yay!"
She looked delighted enough to be a two-hundred-kilo toddler.
Not that she was two hundred kilos. Obviously.
"And you, Mr. Tarnished?" Otto lifted his teacup for a polite sip, then turned his gaze to the Tarnished, who was still reading.
"Hm?"
The Tarnished raised an eyebrow, closed the book, and looked at Otto.
For some reason, he suddenly felt like Otto had… ulterior motives.
Probably just his imagination.
"As for me, I don't need anything special. Just help me collect some books."
"Books?"
"Yes. Books like this one."
He tapped the black cover in his hands.
He had found it while passing through a library, picked from among scattered volumes left to rot.
After skimming the contents, he'd felt an uneasy sense of familiarity—like the descriptions echoed certain things he'd encountered before.
The hands near Caria Manor and the Caria Study Hall.
The grotesque hand-things up in the Mountaintops of the Giants near the Forge.
That round, tentacled monster lurking in a small lake on Stormhill.
The oversized-eyed lizards that spewed deathly mist.
And the horror that had once devastated an Eternal City—Astel, Naturalborn of the Void.
The more he read, the more he felt there had to be a connection.
"Very well. No problem," Otto said, smiling gently.
It wasn't a costly request. It also wasn't the kind of reward Otto most wanted to offer.
But if that was what his guest desired, Otto would provide it.
He turned to the maid holding the teapot.
"Rita. Handle this. Once the collection is complete, bring it to me."
"Yes, Bishop."
With graceful, alluring poise, Rita left the room.
Then Otto returned his attention to the Tarnished.
"If you'll forgive my curiosity… may I ask what you intend to do with these books?"
"Hm?"
The Tarnished's hand paused mid-motion as he reached to reopen the book.
His eyes narrowed slightly.
In that instant, his guard shot straight to maximum.
"Mr. Otto… why do you ask?"
"No, no. You misunderstand. It is merely friendly conversation."
"Is that so?"
He decided not to read anymore. He put the book away, studying Otto with open suspicion.
"It's not exactly a secret. Some of what's described in there feels like things I've seen on my side."
"Oh?" Otto's interest sharpened at once. "That is… unexpected."
He knew the author of that book—talented, imaginative.
But hearing that similar phenomena existed in another world, and not merely as fiction?
It was as if Otto had seized one end of a tangled thread—
And yet still couldn't pull it free.
"Well, we can discuss it some other time," the Tarnished said, standing. "I've been away long enough. I should head back."
He should have already been done beating Margit by now, but he'd wasted far too much time here.
And Melina had probably already noticed he'd left the Lands Between.
Making his wife worry was not on the list of things he wanted to do.
"Very well," Otto said mildly. "Then we shall speak again when the opportunity arises."
He glanced at Hu Tao. "And you, Miss Hu Tao? Are you leaving as well?"
"Yep! I've been out for a while too. Time to go home."
She stood and pointed at Otto like she was making a solemn contract.
"Uncle Otto, don't forget what you promised about the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor branch!"
"Rest assured, Miss Hu Tao. I will not forget."
Under Otto's kindly gaze, the two of them pressed the button to submit the mission.
[Group Notice: Mission completed. 4,000 points have been issued. Teleportation will begin shortly.]
"Bye-bye~" Hu Tao waved cheerfully.
A pure white light wrapped around them both, and they vanished on the spot.
He had barely closed his eyes before that familiar wave of dizziness swept through his mind.
When he opened them again, he was back in the Lands Between.
But this location…
"Seriously?! Why did it teleport me to the Smoldering Church?!"
A crimson sky smothered the world.
Before him stood a ruined church, half-collapsed, with sparks drifting through the air like dying fireflies.
As his gaze shifted, he spotted, on a distant slope beyond the church, a scorched-red wall built of stone—glowing as if it had been cooked from within.
If he remembered correctly, that wall had been ordered built while Radahn still had moments of clarity after the great war.
Its purpose was to stop the spread of Scarlet Rot.
And this place was nowhere near where he'd left off at Stormhill.
This was the border between Caelid and Limgrave.
But that wasn't the real problem.
The real problem was—
There seemed to be a red phantom invader here.