Chapter 330: Patty

After finishing his meeting with Daniel, Gawain didn’t log out of the network immediately. Instead, he left the virtual space and returned to the consciousness layer of the mind network.

He called this layer the “Visible Zone”—in contrast to the deeper data link layers of the network, which ordinary visitors rarely noticed.

His own virtual space had been created by manipulating those very data link layers.

“Where are all those massive computing resources going…” Gawain muttered softly as he walked along the streets in the heart of Dream City. “The mind network is built on active nodes; it doesn’t need fixed ‘servers’ like the Brain Servants…”

He looked up at the Sleeper figures passing by. To him now, each one was a living computational node. Having filled in the gaps in his knowledge, his understanding of the network deepened, and so did his insight into the cultists operating within it.

The Sleeper Cult was a vast, dark sect with a staggering number of members and a complex, secretive lineage. Not all Sleepers knew the cult’s true secrets—in fact, many were “fringe believers,” like the Vicomtesse Kant once was, seduced by the cult but unaware of its inner workings.

The eternal dream that allowed escape from the harshness of reality held an unimaginable allure for those suffering in the real world. Even nobles and archmages could find it hard to resist under certain circumstances. Once you accepted the Sleeper’s invitation and contributed your mind to their vast network, the mind network’s illusions—so vivid they blurred reality—could trap even the strongest wills ever deeper.

Among the Sleepers walking these streets, how many were seasoned cultists? How many were discontented nobles? How many were extraordinary beings fallen on hard times? Were there members of the Arcane Society among them? Followers from the southern continent, or even other races? Perhaps… some hopeless members of rival sects?

The Sleepers had lost their faith and divine magic, much like the Druids after the fall of the White Star three thousand years ago. They were now essentially a secular, magical-technical organization. Recruiting “followers” was no psychological burden—they could seduce nobles and mages, and even openly pious clergy and members of orthodox faiths!

Thinking this, Gawain couldn’t help but feel the Sleeper Cult might be the most terrifying of the three great dark sects…

Lost in these thoughts, a familiar small figure suddenly flickered in his peripheral vision.

Gawain focused and saw a little girl in a pretty white dress hopping along a nearby leaf-strewn path. She jumped from leaf to stone, occasionally balancing precariously on the raised curb like a tightrope walker. Her carefree, innocent demeanor was striking.

Patty Grant? What a coincidence—running into her again?

Gawain frowned, his first instinct was to pretend not to see her and take a detour. But before he could move, the girl’s sharp eyes caught sight of him.

“Ah! Uncle Celsi!” she called out cheerfully, hopping down from the curb and running over to him. She lifted her skirt and gave a somewhat clumsy curtsy. “Hello, Uncle!”

Her words and manner hinted at good upbringing, but her movements were awkward.

Logging off now would seem too deliberate, so Gawain forced a dry smile and responded, then glanced around: the woman who looked like Selina Garfen wasn’t nearby.

“Are you looking for Sister Selina?” Patty noticed his glance and chirped, “She’s not here! She’s busy at home!”

Gawain breathed a quiet sigh of relief, then looked at Patty with growing curiosity. He asked the question he’d been meaning to ask for a while: “How do you always recognize me? There must be plenty of people using the same appearance as me here, right?”

This was his biggest curiosity—in this primitive network without real-name registration or floating usernames, there was no way to instantly identify someone. Everyone could just pick any avatar and enter. The Sleepers were content to roam freely in this “early stage of universal internet.” Yet this little girl always recognized him. Strange indeed.

After all, King Charles I’s face was a popular skin in this network…

“Is it hard to recognize?” Patty blinked, looking puzzled. “But I just can. Even though many people look the same here, everyone’s ‘feeling’ is different…”

“Feeling different…” Gawain couldn’t help but laugh bitterly. What kind of answer was that?

He sensed something odd about this girl, and his wariness grew. But after two or three encounters, he dismissed his initial suspicion: this “Patty” probably wasn’t some greasy, creepy cultist in disguise.

Even a bigshot like Solderin wouldn’t be that twisted. Patty, even if not a little kid in the real world, probably wasn’t far off.

Maybe geniuses really did exist… able to access the Sleeper network at ten years old.

Thinking this, and seeing no sign of Selina Garfen nearby, Gawain figured chatting with this strange little girl wouldn’t hurt. So they walked slowly along the tree-lined path as he casually asked, “You seem to come here often?”

Patty looked curious. “Uncle, do you mean this garden? Or this dream?”

Did she really think this virtual space was just a “dream”? Where in the world were such dreams found…

Gawain muttered to himself but kept a neutral expression. “I mean this ‘dream.’”

“Yeah, I come here a lot, especially at night. I have to come here,” Patty stuck out her tongue, “because if I don’t enter this dream, I can’t sleep well…”

“Can’t sleep well?” Gawain frowned. “Why?”

Patty really seemed like an innocent child, answering whatever he asked. “Because my body itches and hurts…”

As she said this, a flicker of resistance and fear crossed her face. Gawain wanted to ask more but swallowed the words and awkwardly changed the subject. “By the way, I haven’t seen your parents here—aren’t they part of the Church ‘brethren’?”

“Brethren” was a colloquial term believers used among themselves. Gawain was sure even a pure soul like Patty would have heard such words often in the network.

The girl shook her head. “Dad died a long time ago… Mom’s busy, and she doesn’t like it here.”

Her father was dead, and her mother seemed opposed to the Sleepers? Then how did this little girl get into the network?

So she wasn’t brought into the cult because of her parents?

Gawain’s mind raced, sketching possible real-world scenarios for the girl as he asked, “I see… What does your mother do? Why doesn’t she like it here?”

“Mom says she doesn’t like being lost in dreams, but I don’t understand what that means,” Patty said, hopping back onto the curb and wobbling forward. “Mom’s very important! Everyone in the castle listens to her!”

Gawain’s steps faltered. “Castle? You live in a castle?”

“Yes! A very big, big castle!” Patty said happily. “And my room has very big windows!”

A castle with big windows? That kind of architecture was rare in this era…

Gawain quickly guessed the girl’s real-world identity: probably a noble, but not a high-ranking one judging by her speech and mannerisms. She lived in a castle with large windows, but in this era, Ansu’s noble castles were built as military fortresses with narrow windows and high skylights. So maybe she wasn’t from Ansu… but that wasn’t certain, since newer, more comfortable castle and manor styles were spreading in the Holy Spirit Plains and southern regions.

Thinking this, Gawain asked, “Sounds wonderful. By the way, are there tall mountains near your castle? Or rivers and forests?”

He wanted to learn about the landscape around Patty’s home to guess which country she might be from—though he might get nothing from it, he wanted to try.

Patty shook her head. “I don’t remember much… Since I was little, Mom wouldn’t let me leave the castle, saying it’s dangerous outside. But Uncle, I’ll tell you a secret—I sneaked onto the terrace this morning with the maid! I could see a big snowy field below the castle! Don’t tell anyone, okay? Mom rarely even lets me go on the terrace… But she went out a few days ago.”

Gawain’s thoughts drifted as he casually replied, “Oh, your mother went out, huh.”

“Yeah, Mom said she was visiting Count Hosman’s house. She’s been gone for several days…”

“Count Hosman?!” Gawain repeated half-heartedly, then his eyes suddenly widened.

He’d heard that name!

Just recently, in Amber’s report!

“Yes, Count Hosman,” Patty said, a little startled by Gawain’s reaction. “Uncle… do you know the Count?”

“No, I just didn’t expect your mother to visit such an important person. The word ‘Count’ surprised me,” Gawain made up a reason on the spot. Kids wouldn’t think much of it, but his mind was racing.

Could there be another Count Hosman in the world? Gawain wasn’t sure. After all, the four human nations were spread across the continent’s four directions, each with its own vast noble system. There were countless land nobles, and it was hard to say if there might be several with the same name and title in the north and south. But rather than believe in such a random coincidence, he was more inclined to think the “Count Hosman” Patty mentioned was the one he knew:

Karlov Hosman, a land noble in southern Ansu.

So Patty was actually the child of some southern noble?

Her surname seemed to be Grant… and indeed, there were Grant nobles in the south!

(End of chapter)