"!!?"
The moment Fenric hinted the price might change, the middle‑aged woman’s eyes flew wide.
"You—what do you mean!?"
Fenric smiled. "I’ve got the intel that cleared a dungeon at Super‑God evaluation. You think twenty million is expensive? Others would line up to pay. Interested?"
"You... you..." She nearly called him shameless—but swallowed it.
"Fine," she ground out. "Twenty million. Deal. But you promise—no resale for one month."
Reasonable. In Samsara Space, each player can only refresh a given dungeon once per month, clear or fail. She’d just failed. She needed exclusive access to the walkthrough before retry.
"Good," Fenric said, pleased. "We’ll settle it outside."
Twenty million just like that. Rich samsara player indeed.
"I’ll wait for you in Samsara Space. Exit quickly," she said, then silently triggered Return. Her body blurred and vanished.
Fenric didn’t leave immediately. He still had something to settle.
He’d told Inspector Andy Lau he would ask Superintendent Wong to speak for him in court—to argue for leniency. Dungeon or not, these NPCs felt real. A promise made should be a promise kept.
He stopped outside Superintendent Wong’s temporary office, drew a breath, and knocked.
Knock, knock, knock.
"Come in," came Superintendent Wong’s voice.
Fenric stepped inside—and paused. Someone else was there.
A tired, unshaven man in his early thirties, eyes heavy with years of strain—but sharp. Familiar.
"John, just in time," said Superintendent Wong with a smile. "This is Anthony Wong. He’s our undercover. His status is officially restored. You’ll be colleagues."
Anthony Wong Chau-sang extended a hand. "Nice to meet you, John."
Fenric shook it. "Welcome back, Brother Anthony."
The smile that spread across Anthony Wong’s face was pure relief. Ten years undercover—finally over.
"Superintendent Wong’s been singing your praises," Anthony added. "Says you’re talented."
"Superintendent Wong overestimates me," Fenric replied.
Superintendent Wong laughed. "You came for something?"
Fenric nodded. "Yes. About Inspector Andy Lau. He... wanted to be a real cop. Eric Tsang held leverage on him. He couldn’t break free. I hope you’ll speak to the judge. Ask they give him a lighter sentence."
"..."
Superintendent Wong went silent, thinking. Then: "Since you asked, I’ll give you that face. Agreed. But you’re coming to the celebration banquet."
Fenric shook his head. "I’d like to—but I really can’t stay."
"...All right. I won’t force you."
"Then I won’t disturb you two. Goodbye."
—--
Fenric left the office, ducked into a restroom stall, and whispered, "Return."
His body dissolved.
Vision snapped back. He stood once more in the Central Square of Samsara Space.
He glanced at the time display—and froze.
He’d spent seven to eight hours inside Infernal Affairs. Out here? Barely one hour had passed.
Right. The Samsara Space runs in real‑time, but dungeon flow is scaled. According to inherited memory: no matter how long a Samsara player spends inside a dungeon—days, months, even years—only one hour elapses in Samsara Space/real time upon return.
A staggering time‑dilation ratio.
No wonder so many believed Samsara Space was the work of gods. What else could bend time like this?
Ding—!
A soft chime sounded by his ear.
You have a new communication. "Arke" invites you to a video call. Please respond.
"Arke" ... that should be her. The samsara player who’d taken a middle‑aged female officer disguise in the dungeon.
"Open video," Fenric ordered.
A holographic projection window unfolded before him. In Samsara Space, privacy was enforced—no one else could see what he saw unless he allowed it. To others in the square, he was just standing there, expression focused, talking to air.
Inside the holo window, a masked girl avatar appeared.