Chapter 762: Phantom Town

Gawain’s shock was beyond measure.

Yet he maintained his concealment within the mental network, carefully suppressing any sign of astonishment.

He cast another glance at Selina Gerfen, then double-checked her profile through the network’s backend.

His first thought was that the address recognition system must be malfunctioning—after all, it was newly completed and still needed fine-tuning. But he also knew that blaming the system immediately was the worst approach.

Selina Gerfen could very well be here in Cecil, lurking somewhere in the southern territories!

And in a soul form, no less.

His gaze lingered on the words: Archbishop (Deceased), Soul Form…

That part stirred something in him, though not strongly. After all, Selina was just a figure from Gawain Cecil’s memories—someone from seven centuries ago. For a human to exist that long, it wasn’t surprising they might take on some unusual state. Besides, Gawain had personally witnessed a being capable of photosynthesis; his mind was quite open to such possibilities.

What truly captured his attention was how Selina Gerfen, surviving as a soul form, was currently hiding somewhere in the southern lands.

As he pondered, Daniel and the others were wrapping up their conversation.

“…That’s the situation. The newly emerged overflow contamination zone is still outside the city, in what we’re calling the ‘Imaginary District.’ For now, we’re referring to it as the ‘Phantom Town,’” said Archbishop Yuri. “His Holiness the Pope believes the twisted, bizarre state of this area is highly unusual, so he has ordered that it not be reset immediately. Instead, we are to conduct a thorough investigation first.”

Selina nodded. “The area has been cloaked to prevent residents of the Dream City from noticing. Archbishop Daniel, this is your first time entering an overflow contamination zone. Your main task is to familiarize yourself with the environment and conditions. Please be cautious.”

“I understand, Archbishop Selina,” Daniel replied earnestly. “I’m ready.”

“Good. We depart now.” Archbishop Yuri glanced at the clock dial floating midair. At the same time, layers of rune circles appeared beneath his feet, and his figure began to shimmer and blur. “Everyone, enter the teleportation zone. Transfer begins in fifteen seconds.”

The three archbishops and three senior clerics wearing owl masks stepped into the rune circles. Gawain silently took his place among them—each person spaced about an elbow’s length apart, yet no one noticed anything unusual.

In a flash of light and shadow, the surroundings rapidly shifted.

Gawain felt as if he was passing through a tunnel filled with chaotic mist. The resplendent Dream City flickered past on the chaotic barrier walls of the tunnel. When the scene stabilized, he found himself standing in the center of a gloomy, lifeless town.

Was that “tunnel” a representation of an unmarked port in the mental network?

A fleeting thought crossed his mind, but Gawain quickly focused on the dilapidated town before him.

Dark, turbulent clouds blanketed the sky, shrouding everything in sight. Below, the old houses were arranged haphazardly, their styles unlike any nation in the real world. Black slanted or pointed roofs, weathered and faded walls, and on at least one side of each building, a strange mural: a hand symbolizing some great power stretched across the sky, covering the land beneath.

The town was utterly silent, as if abandoned for centuries. Neatly lined iron-black street lamps flanked the roads, but weeds and vines grew unchecked between the lamp posts and the cobblestones.

Gawain looked toward the horizon but saw nothing beyond the town’s edge—only a thick, hazy fog that seemed to form a wall, isolating the entire settlement.

This was the so-called “overflow contamination zone”?

Though desolate and deserted, the place felt as real as the Dream City itself—an uncanny, almost indistinguishable reality. But why was it completely empty?

According to Daniel, these overflow zones should have human activity—or rather, in a mental network powered by psychic energy, it’s the presence of conscious minds, the “people” observing, that allows such areas to manifest.

So what was going on with this ghost town?

As Gawain mulled this over, Archbishop Yuri spoke again: “This place is different from previous overflow zones… Though the atmosphere is eerie and oppressive, the scenery follows logical rules. There are no twisted, piled-up buildings, no colorless ground, no gaps in the sky.”

“That’s one reason His Holiness considers this area special and wants us to investigate carefully,” Selina Gerfen added. “All previous overflow zones showed phenomena completely defying reality—distorted, faded, hollowed, or curled structures—like sandbox projections suffering data corruption and loss during external rendering. But this Phantom Town… aside from being empty, its physical structure is intact and orderly.”

Gawain analyzed this as he listened. The earlier overflow zones sounded like virtual scenes suffering rendering failures and model glitches—signs of insufficient computing power in the mental network?

“It’s very quiet here. No one on the streets,” Daniel remarked, voicing the question on Gawain’s mind. “I recall you telling me before that overflow zones always have ‘residents’—even if they appear twisted or strange, at least they exist.”

“That’s what we need to confirm,” Selina nodded. “In any case, this place is extremely strange. It may have broken free from the mental network’s usual rules. Some unknown consciousness might be influencing or watching over it. Everyone must proceed with utmost caution.”

With that warning, the Sleepless raised their vigilance and began cautiously exploring the eerie Phantom Town.

They first scoured the empty streets, confirming no signs of life. Then they mapped the terrain and identified several main entrances and exits.

Throughout, Gawain followed at a steady pace, listening to their discussions, helping record maps, and inspecting wells, street lamps, and other facilities for signs of decay.

After completing the initial survey and confirming no immediate dangers, the team’s attention naturally shifted to the houses lining the streets.

Every door and window in this abandoned town was tightly shut. No light or sound came from within. Thick curtains or crisscrossed wooden boards blocked any view inside. Yet these barriers only heightened the sense of unease and curiosity—despite the danger, one couldn’t help but want to peek inside.

The Sleepless approached the town with utmost caution, so they first cleared the streets of hazards. But to complete their mission, they would eventually have to inspect those sealed houses.

The three senior clerics wearing owl masks stopped before a locked cottage. Before attempting to open the door, Selina Gerfen swept the area with her lantern, scanning for abnormal data or malicious hidden consciousness. Only after confirming safety did she nod: “Open it.”

One masked cleric pushed the door, but the seemingly fragile wooden plank door didn’t budge.

They examined the lock and checked for anything jamming the door.

Gawain moved closer, standing by a window facing the street. The window was nailed shut with crisscrossed broken boards, leaving wide gaps. Through these, Gawain’s eyes penetrated inside.

The interior was pitch black, with only vague outlines of furniture and objects visible. Everything seemed shrouded in a thick black veil—shadowy and indistinct.

A creaking noise came from the door. Gawain turned to see the three owl-masked clerics had finally forced the door open. One held a glowing orb of light; the other two cast protective mental spells. They cautiously covered each other as they stepped inside.

This was a world projected by the mental network—everything here was a simulation of consciousness. Conventional spells from the real world had little effect; only mental powers could manifest. The clerics’ illumination and mental protection spells were simulated “special effects,” designed to provide strong mental guidance and prevent the caster from losing themselves in the network.

Gawain recalled the many rules for operating in the mental realm as he stepped forward to follow the clerics inside.

The pale light from the orb illuminated the room’s furnishings, but the glow seemed suppressed by some unknown force, barely reaching a few meters. The far corners remained cloaked in thick shadows, like heavy veils.

Gawain stared into those shadows, sensing a void within—not just darkness, but an absence of anything at all. He couldn’t help but imagine that anyone reckless enough to step into that blackness might fall into nothingness, their consciousness erased in the network’s abyss.

The three clerics clearly sensed the strangeness of those shadowed areas. They stayed within the orb’s light, avoiding the darkness.

“No dust… but it feels like it’s been abandoned for years,” one cleric murmured, running a finger over the table in the center. Beneath the owl mask, his voice was low. “It’s like an ‘emotional resonance’ phenomenon.”

“Possible,” another nodded. “Some force here is affecting thoughts, creating the atmosphere of long abandonment.”

The third checked other spots. “Furniture is arranged as if in daily use. The water bottle still has fresh water. The flowers on the wooden pillar haven’t wilted. Whoever lived here must have left suddenly, not long ago…”

“This should be data leaked from Sandbox One—a projection of a town inside the sandbox. Judging by the lack of distortion, it’s likely a faithful recreation of the sandbox’s current state,” the first cleric said quietly. “So, Sandbox One… looks like this now?”

“At least one town looks like this.”

Gawain followed the clerics as they examined the cottage but found no clues worth noting. He then turned and stepped back outside, rejoining Selina and the others on the street.

While the three priests were inspecting the house, the three archbishops stationed outside were far from idle. On one hand, they maintained a psychic barrier around the area to prevent any malicious mental intrusions—lurking deep within the town—from reaching the priests inside. On the other hand, they kept a vigilant watch over the town’s movements, carefully monitoring whether the priests’ entry triggered any synchronous changes in the town itself. In the realm of consciousness and psychic phenomena, such “linked reactions” were always a critical concern.

Gawain overheard Selina Gerfen speaking with Daniel.

“…This town isn’t part of Sandbox One’s original ‘blueprint,’” the woman holding the lantern said calmly. “Nor does it appear in any of the subsequent projected blueprints. It’s a town that emerged spontaneously from Sandbox One’s uncontrolled evolution.”

Daniel asked, “Are there other similar ‘spontaneous evolutions’?”

“Yes,” Selina nodded. “We’ve already observed a mysterious plain, several fragmented streets, and a mountain of unknown origin—that mountain floats above the Dream City. If His Holiness the Pope hadn’t sensed the anomaly early and sealed it off in time, it might have been exposed directly to the ordinary faithful.”

Daniel’s curiosity was piqued. “…These spillovers all seem to cluster around the Dream City, but at most they affect only the peripheral districts? They haven’t directly encroached on the city’s core?”

“Exactly. The Dream City is heavily fortified; it’s not so easy to breach.”

Both Daniel and Gawain exchanged thoughtful looks.

At that moment, a clear, mysterious bell toll echoed through the town!

(End of chapter)