The person who pulled Buck out of the sewage was a man wearing a white lab coat. This sudden rescue should have made Buck feel grateful, but when his gaze drifted to the side, he couldn''t help but feel a little frustrated. The sewer sculptor he had spent so much effort searching for was now quietly standing beside this man in the white lab coat.


    Without any politeness, the man in the white lab coat threw the filthy and drenched Buck onto the ground. He then took two steps back in disgust, raised his hand to adjust the delicate glasses on his nose, and scrutinized Buck for a moment with a probing look before speaking, “A Hunter from the Order?”


    He seemed to have noticed the prominent Order insignia on Buck''s attire, and after a brief thought, he added, “I don’t think I’ve seen you before. You must be new, right?” Just as he finished speaking, it seemed like he suddenly remembered something important. His eyes lit up, and he said, “I know now. You must be one of the two newcomers who retrieved the Fourth-Grade Forbidden Item. Let me think... your name is Buck Frank, right?”


    Buck exerted great effort to slowly get up from the ground. His movements were sluggish, as though all his energy had been drained in the previous struggle. He reached up and pulled off the mask that had clung tightly to his face from being soaked in the foul water, revealing a tired and expressionless face. He gazed silently at the man.


    To be honest, at this moment, Buck felt completely exhausted, mentally and physically. His mind was too weary to care about anything. All he wanted was to go home, take a hot shower, and wash away the stench and bad luck he had endured.


    But the person before him, since he could immediately recognize Buck as a Hunter from the Order, must also be a member of the Order. Moreover, it seemed there was some unknown connection between him and the sculptor.


    The man in the white lab coat smiled, his simple short brown hair slightly swaying with the movement. His slender face, paired with the smile, gave off a seemingly friendly vibe. “Hello, Mr. Frank. My name is Floyd. I’m a doctor and also a Hunter in the Order.” Floyd spoke while instinctively extending his hand, preparing to shake Buck’s hand.


    However, just as his hand was about to touch Buck''s damp palm, he quickly retracted it as if he had been electrocuted, but his smile remained faint. Seeing this, Buck thought to himself, "Okay, this guy doesn''t seem as friendly as he looks. His personality seems a bit strange."


    "What did you encounter in the sewers?" Floyd asked curiously, his eyes gleaming with a hint of investigation. Buck casually shook his head and answered indifferently, “A maze.” His gaze wandered to the sewage channel, and he happened to notice a hat floating toward him in the water. He immediately recognized it as his Hunter’s hat. But at this moment, he had no interest in retrieving it.


    “Are you talking about an endless maze world?” Unexpectedly, the sculptor, who had been silent until now, suddenly became interested after hearing Buck’s response. He seemed completely indifferent to the foul odor emanating from Buck’s body, taking a few steps toward him with eager eyes.


    “Did you sense the boundary of the distorted space?” The sculptor’s voice trembled slightly, as though anticipating a special answer. Buck furrowed his brow, thought for a moment, and nodded.


    "That''s right, it’s that one." The sculptor’s beard beneath his hat slightly twitched. Although his expression was not visible, Buck could sense his excitement. “It really exists, and it’s beautiful, isn’t it?” The sculptor’s words were filled with an indescribable emotion, as though describing an extremely precious treasure.


    Buck was utterly confused and didn’t understand what he was saying. In Buck’s mind, the word “beautiful” had no connection to the filthy, stinky sewers in front of him. “What exactly are you talking about? What is ‘it’?” Buck couldn’t help but ask.


    The sculptor suddenly chuckled in a strange way. His laugh echoed eerily in the empty place. “Mr. Hunter, it’s a world called the sewers, formed and constructed by a magnificent piece of artwork.”


    With that, he quickly dropped his backpack and began rummaging through it with some urgency. After a while, he took out something from his bag—a large magic cube, about the size of a football.


    Buck narrowed his eyes and scrutinized the cube. It appeared to be an unfinished work, yet it was made with incredible precision, consisting of countless small cubes tightly assembled together, seemingly capable of performing highly complex transformations. However, some areas had cracks and flaws, which made the entire device look precariously close to falling apart.


    “It’s the teacher’s masterpiece. I’ve been staying in the sewers for many years, trying to replicate it, but unfortunately, my skills are not up to par.” The sculptor carefully held the cube with both hands, his eyes fixed on it, filled with obsession and longing, as though lost in deep memories, his entire being almost entranced.


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    “So, the space in the sewers was distorted by something?” Buck suddenly realized, feeling a sense of enlightenment. No wonder he had become completely disoriented in there—it turned out to be because of this. Floyd, standing nearby, watched Buck’s reaction and smiled faintly, even giving him a subtle wink, as if hinting at something.


    At this moment, the sculptor seemed to snap back to his senses. His movements became slightly frantic as he quickly stored the cube back in his bag, then nodded at the two of them without saying anything, turning to step into the darkness. He was returning to that lightless, dangerous sewer again.


    “Good luck, Mr. Sculptor.” Buck watched his departing figure and gently shook his head.


    After enduring the dangers of the sewers, Buck had come to a firm conclusion: this person was nothing but a madman.


    "A magical madman," Floyd, who was standing nearby, seemed to have read Buck''s thoughts and added a fitting description.


    "Frank, no matter what you encountered deep in the sewers, forget about it. That distorted space actually guards a secret—one neither you nor I are qualified to touch," Floyd''s tone grew serious, and there was a trace of reverence in his gaze.


    Buck nodded silently. He was well aware that he wasn''t qualified to deal with that secret. After all, the legendary creation that had completely overwhelmed him, making him powerless, had already shown him the vast disparity in their strengths.


    "As for the sculptor, he''s also one of the targets under the church''s surveillance. The church doesn''t care about his grand ideal of replicating that artwork, but we must check in on him regularly to ensure he''s not causing any trouble," Floyd continued, shrugging helplessly. "So, this task has fallen to me, the doctor."


    He looked at Buck again, a wry smile spreading across his face. "And, from a doctor''s perspective, I suggest you go home and wash up quickly, Buck."


    Buck silently thought, I was already planning to do that. He coldly nodded at Floyd and turned to walk towards the exit that led to the river.


    The sky outside had already brightened. The soft sunlight poured over the earth, dispelling the darkness of the night. Having been trapped in the sewers all night, Buck felt an indescribable sense of relief as he saw the sunlight again and breathed in the fresh air. He couldn''t help but silently praise the Goddess of the Sun in his heart.


    Floyd didn''t inquire about Buck''s purpose for entering the sewers. He knew that some hunters liked to venture into the sewers to hunt monsters and hone their combat skills. However, there were also unsettling rumors—some hunters, if they ventured too deep into the sewers, became completely lost in the darkness and never returned.


    No one knew for sure what lay hidden in the depths of the sewers, for those who did know had all died. Therefore, Floyd never tried to explore that mysterious world. He stood quietly at the boundary of light and shadow, watching Buck''s retreating figure with a strange smile on his face.


    ......


    No. 9 Michelin Avenue. Buck returned home and hurried into the bathroom, eager to wash away the stench with a satisfying hot shower. The water poured from the showerhead, cascading over his exhausted body, as though washing away all his fatigue and fear.


    The adventure had left him physically and mentally drained, and the terrifying sensation of narrowly escaping death still lingered in his mind, not fading easily. He had originally thought that with over six hundred thousand blood, he was practically "invincible" in this world. But the countless spider legions and the fearsome steam knight had given him a harsh reminder—he was still too weak.


    During the final confrontation with the steam knight, his life energy had dropped to a dangerously low level, with just over thirty thousand remaining. The powerful shockwave had nearly torn his body apart.


    I need to figure out how to get stronger, Buck muttered to himself as he wiped his body. He shook his head and clenched his slightly trembling hand as if trying to encourage himself. He then turned his gaze to the desk, where two Firefly Stone Masks sat quietly.


    These two masks were the only things he had brought back from the sewers. In the intense battle, he had unfortunately lost both his heavy hammer and silver sword, which made Buck feel regretful. That gun was so easy to handle and powerful, but just the thought of facing the terrifying steam knight again sent chills down his spine. He wouldn''t risk another adventure just to retrieve the gun.


    Now, the materials needed for the ritual were ready, and it was time to use the Firefly Stone Masks—those masks he had nearly lost his life for—to conduct the ascension ritual for the twins. Buck silently swore to himself that if the ritual failed because of the masks, he would grab Floyd by the neck and force him to find that sculptor, then beat him senseless!


    ......


    As the sun slowly descended beneath the horizon, and the Goddess of the Sun''s gaze left the earth, the night enveloped the world. Buck called the twins into his room. The air was thick with mystery and tension. The dim light flickered gently in the breeze, as if signaling that what was about to happen was full of uncertainty and change.


    Buck took out the ancient scroll again, and the patterns and words on the scroll glowed with a mysterious light under the lamp. He began to follow the instructions and symbols, using his own blood to draw two formations on the floor of the room.


    The reason he drew two was that he intended to perform the ritual for both twins. This way, even if one of them failed, it wouldn''t matter—if one succeeded, Buck would have the chance to gain important information about his arm.


    But as Buck was halfway through, he suddenly noticed something strange. He paused his movements, tilted his head, and walked around the formations he had drawn, frowning deeply.


    Then, Buck flipped the scroll over and turned it back again, repeating the process several times, and his expression grew even more puzzled. "Strange, should I be looking at this thing right side up or upside down?" Buck muttered to himself.


    Seeing the confusion on his face, the twins exchanged a furtive glance, their eyes flashing with unease. They began to feel anxious, realizing that their path into the mysterious world was destined to be full of obstacles and setbacks.