Killing in a Dream

The night outside the church was thick as ink, as though it had taken solid form and weighed heavily on people's shoulders.

The wind swept through with bone-piercing damp cold, sometimes whimpering, sometimes shrieking, making spines prickle and minds scatter.

The Fortieth Block itself had shed its modern appearance.

High-rises and villas had all twisted and collapsed into crooked wooden houses.

The rough planks had blackened from years of neglect, dark green mold sprouting in their seams. Many windows were nothing but empty holes, like blinded eyes.

The road was no longer smooth asphalt, but rutted mud and broken old flagstones, littered with empty cans, rags, and unrecognizable refuse that had rolled in from who knew where, tumbling and colliding in the sinister wind.

Not an inch of the walls was clean. They were covered in crazed graffiti.

Those lines resembled twisted symbols or inhuman writing, splashed on in dark red, filthy brown, and ghastly white paint, faintly exuding menace in the gloom.

Several ghostly shadows swayed.

They had no clear forms, resembling human outlines torn apart and barely pieced back together. They moved slowly and aimlessly, sometimes sinking into the shadows of houses, sometimes lingering at alley mouths.

Then two lanterns approached steadily-their dim yellow light cleaved through the darkness like sharp blades, illuminating swirling dust and the filthy details on the ground.

Where the light reached, the ghostly shadows reacted.

Some abruptly shrank into deeper darkness like startled mist, curling into corners; others seemed scorched by the light, suddenly straightening their bodies and bursting into rending howls.

Those shrill cries, mingled with resentment and pain, scattered on the wind and lingered long afterward.

The lantern halos advanced, illuminating graffiti-covered walls, rolling trash, and those beings struggling and convulsing on the boundary between light and dark.

The block outside the church had become a medieval alleyway living within a nightmare.

Several eerie figures staggered closer. Lin Rui drew his burning flame sword, its flames dancing in the darkness and illuminating his tightly knitted brows.

"Mr. Borg, are these... evil spirits?"

"No." The old priest shook his head, profound compassion showing in his eyes. "They're merely the fallen, corrupted by evil spirits, who lost their dignity and glory for various reasons... I want to save them, but..."

Before he finished, a ghostly shadow provoked by the light suddenly howled and lunged at them, wielding a rusty dagger.

A chill ran down Lin Rui's spine. He instinctively dodged sideways while swinging his sword to block.

The flames on the blade awakened with his movement, abruptly surging into a blazing red blade of light over a meter long that slammed into the shadow's chest.

The target let out an inhuman howl of pain, staggered backward, and collapsed helplessly.

That single strike drained most of Lin Rui's strength. He leaned on his sword, panting, cold sweat seeping from his forehead as his arms trembled slightly.

The old priest raised his staff and glanced at him, saying evenly, "Demon hunter, you don't exercise enough. With stamina like that, you cannot fight evil."

Lin Rui wiped his face with a wry smile. "If you'd been like me, told to do nothing but bury yourself in practice questions since childhood, with barely a few PE classes, you wouldn't be in much better shape."

"You must train harder from now on." The old priest said no more. He lifted his lantern staff and turned to continue onward.

Lin Rui looked at the motionless shadow on the ground and asked, "Aren't we going to wipe out these minions of the evil spirits?"

"The fallen are pitiable people too." The old priest did not look back. "I have no right to take their lives. I can only watch helplessly as evil spirits enslave them until they perish."

Lin Rui seemed to grasp something. He crouched and brought his lantern close to the face shrouded in black mist. The light pierced the mist, revealing a gaunt, filthy face with tangled hair and beard.

"A homeless man, and one who's taken so many drugs he's beyond saving." Lin Rui had seen this face before.

During the day, when he had set up a stall outside the church to distribute aid, this homeless man had appeared. His eyes had been bloodshot, his mental state abnormal, and he had been highly aggressive.

"Where exactly am I? Could I be in Mr. Borg's dream?" The old priest was compassionate, but Lin Rui had fewer scruples. He wanted to conduct an experiment.

The flame sword swung again, slicing precisely across the homeless man's ghostly throat.

There was no blood, no wound, and no scream. The shadow merely twitched a few times before going completely still.

The black aura wrapped around him dispersed like smoke. A hazy human silhouette floated out of it, rising slowly and disappearing into the murky night.

Was this... release?

Lin Rui froze.

"Leon, keep up." The old priest's voice came from over a dozen meters away. "Don't stray too far from me. If you encounter an evil spirit alone, you won't be able to fight it at all."

Lin Rui suppressed his questions and hurried after him.

The old man and the young man slowly patrolled the broken streets, stopping at every streetlamp.

The old priest took an old oil flask from inside his clothes and motioned for Lin Rui to refill the lamps. Many had long since gone out and needed relighting.

After about an hour of work, the patrol ended.

The relit streetlamps added several hazy pools of light around the church.

Some fallen shadows squirmed out of their hiding places in the darkness and curled up at the edges of the halos, as though drawing in a little illusory warmth.

"Mr. Borg, does doing this... mean anything?" Looking at those shadows, Lin Rui could not help asking.

"I don't know." The old priest shook his head wearily. "I cannot stray far from the church, cannot eradicate the evil spirits lurking deep in the darkness, and am even less capable of dispelling this boundless night.

"I only want to do something, to preserve what little light I can and keep it from going out completely... Perhaps one day, a miracle will happen."

He led Lin Rui back to the church. "That's all for tonight. Thank you for helping. But as a demon hunter, you aren't up to standard yet. You must become stronger, or sooner or later, the darkness will swallow you."

As his words fell, the surrounding Nightmare Space suddenly began to disintegrate. The scene peeled away like a fading oil painting, shattered, and finally dissolved into chaos.

A powerful wave of dizziness struck Lin Rui. His vision went black, and he lost consciousness. When he opened his eyes again, he was lying on the soft bed in the church dormitory.

All around him was quiet, the night gentle.

He reached out and switched on the bedside lamp. Warm yellow light instantly filled the room-everything was as usual, as though the blood, fire, and howls just now had been nothing but a dream.

Only the notification ringing in his mind was perfectly clear: "Mission complete. Reward received: attribute points +1."

A virtual screen unfolded, displaying five attributes in order:

[Strength] Determines the intensity of combat

[Constitution] Determines the resilience of life

[Spirit] Determines the boundaries of thought

[Agility] Determines the speed of action

[Charisma] Determines the resonance of communication

Remembering his exhaustion after that single sword strike in the dream, Lin Rui did not hesitate. He applied the increase to his weakest attribute, [Strength].

A vague intuition arose within him: that Nightmare Space was probably far more real, and far more dangerous, than he had imagined.

At daybreak the next morning, the old priest rose early as usual, only to find Lin Rui already busy making breakfast in the kitchen.

"Good morning, Mr. Borg." Lin Rui was frying eggs in a skillet. Beside him, the toaster dinged, and two golden-brown slices popped out.

With a flick of the skillet, the fried eggs flipped over and continued sizzling. His movement was steady and precise.

His strength had increased from "5" to "6." The number was still very low, but proportionally, it was already a twenty-percent increase.

Lin Rui tossed the food with his spatula and pan, controlling his strength with ease. The old priest sat at the dining table and found that he did not need to do anything except wait to eat.

"Leon, do you often do housework?"

"Yes. You have to learn to take care of yourself."

"Children in the United States don't know how to do housework anymore." As he spoke, the old priest took a banknote from his pocket. "From now on, you can prepare the three daily meals. I'll pay you ten dollars an hour."

Lin Rui laughed and declined. "Mr. Borg, you don't need to pay for something so small. I'm not providing a service just for you. I need to eat too.

"Besides, you've given me a place to stay and kept me from sleeping on the streets. I'm happy to do something to express my gratitude."

He knew to repay kindness. The old priest found Lin Rui increasingly agreeable.

Lin Rui asked another question. "How did you sleep last night?"

"Quite well. I seem to have had a very long dream, but I forgot the details after waking up," the old priest answered.

After breakfast, the old priest needed to go out. Every day, he received various notices about donations, then drove out to collect relief supplies.

These supplies were usually fruit, bread, drinks, and similar items nearing their expiration dates. They could not be stockpiled for long, so he had to collect them regularly.

"Would you rather stay at the church or come with me?" The old priest felt that Lin Rui showed plenty of initiative and worked well with others. Having another helper around was quite nice.

"I'll come with you." Lin Rui did not want to stay at the church. The place was too small, and the old priest was its only regular staff member. It was truly dull.

The old priest went to get the car. Waiting at the church entrance, Lin Rui saw a police car parked across the street. Before long, a hospital vehicle arrived as well.

What happened?

In the United States, watching the commotion was very dangerous. If you were as overly curious as a foolish roe deer, one careless moment could get you shot.

Lin Rui did not dare approach either. From a distance, he watched two "body collectors" in yellow reflective vests set down a stretcher, put a body lying beside the road into a body bag, and lift it into the vehicle.

When they turned the body over, Lin Rui was startled to recognize the face. It belonged to the homeless man who had tried to attack him in the Nightmare Space, only to be killed by him instead.

Holy shit, I swung my sword in a dream, and someone in reality actually died?

The old priest drove over from the garage and also saw the body being collected. He knew the police officer by the roadside and made a point of asking about it.

"A homeless man died," the officer answered.

"I know this fellow." The old priest pointed at the body. "Big Powell. He used to be an investor on Wall Street and had his days of glory, but a divorce ruined him. How did he die?"

"Who knows? There are too many homeless people in this block." The officer shrugged. "No obvious injuries. A drug overdose probably ended his life.

"It's a good thing. Looks like he didn't suffer much when he died. He won't have to worry about surviving this winter anymore, or feel bitter about his own fall."

The old priest looked thoughtful as he listened. Seeming to remember something, he turned to glance at Lin Rui in the passenger seat.

Lin Rui asked, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." The old priest shook his head. "I suddenly remembered last night's dream. That homeless man appeared in it. At the time..."

The old priest's brows knitted tightly. He had clearly recalled something, but did not continue. He merely gave a wry smile. "Forget it. It was only a dream. At least that poor fellow is free now."