[Real World – Lighthouse Temporary Containment Zone]

  The blue vortex contracted abruptly, accompanied by a sickening crackle of electricity. The moment Charon stepped out of the portal, he didn't see the rescue team he had expected.

  He had just opened his mouth to speak when a sharp, searing pain exploded at the back of his head.

  It was the sound of a high-voltage sedative round striking his skull. Charon didn't even have time to see who the dark figure in front of him was before his vision plummeted into darkness. He collapsed face-first onto the hard ground.

  [Real World – Lighthouse – Isolation Interrogation Room]

  When Charon woke up, the blinding, shadowless white light felt like a blade scraping against his retinas.

  He tried to move, but the heavy clang of metal echoed through the room. His wrists and ankles were bolted to a chair by heavy alloy shackles.

  "Awake?"

  Directly across from him sat a woman in a deep grey uniform, positioned in the shadows, her silver hair shimmering. She sat with her legs crossed, holding an electronic file. The harsh light hit the side of her face—it was the owner of the voice that had appeared at the end of the Rift.

  She didn't use the intercom; she sat there, scrutinizing Charon face-to-face.

  "Name?" she asked, her tone icy.

  Charon shook his heavy head and croaked out a single word: "Chrome."

  The woman’s hand, poised to write, paused. She looked up at him, her brow furrowing slightly. "Which Chrome? Like Google, or the browser?"

  Looking at her deadpan expression, Charon felt like he was punching a cloud. This woman was beautiful, sure, but her personality was as rigid as a pre-programmed machine.

  "Actually, that’s not my name," Charon sighed helplessly.

  "Then what are you called?"

  "I wasn't called. I didn't hear anyone yell."

  In his mind, Charon flashed a giant peace sign. Six months. He had saved that stupid pun for six whole months, and he finally nailed it in a life-or-death situation.

  The air in the interrogation room froze instantly.

  The woman’s face darkened visibly. She snapped the folder shut with a loud thud, a flicker of genuine anger in her eyes.

  "Mr. Charon, I don't think you understand the situation." She stood up, leaning over the table, her presence pressing down on him like a cold draft. "Right now, your name is in our hands—and so is your life. In this world where reality is collapsing, we have the right to physically terminate any individual deemed a 'High-Contamination Risk.' Your sense of humor won't save you."

  Charon’s smile faded, but he wasn't intimidated. He leaned forward as well, his shackles grinding harshly against the metal chair in the silence.

  [Outside the Observation Room – Monitoring Hall]

  Through the thick, one-way reinforced glass, a burly man stared at the monitor. From his silhouette alone, one couldn't tell he was a middle-aged man over fifty, though time had etched faint wrinkles into his face.

  "This is no small matter. Even the Big Boss is doing the interrogation herself," Viktor said, his voice steady and powerful.

  Beside him, a girl wearing pink headphones tapped away rapidly at a keyboard. "Even so, isn't this the kind of thing you're better at, Mr. Viktor?" She twirled a strand of her curly pink hair.

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  "You underestimate Angela. I may be an expert in language and logic, but even in my specialty, I only beat her by a narrow margin. Unless it's someone with superhuman intelligence, she won't be outmatched."

  "You don't do this often, do you?" Charon’s voice suddenly cut through the silence from behind the glass.

  "Mr. Viktor..." The pink-haired girl began, but Viktor was already moving.

  He leaned toward the microphone. "Angela, let me handle this. This boy is no ordinary human."

  [Lighthouse – Isolation Interrogation Room]

  Viktor’s voice came through Angela’s earpiece. Even he sounded unusually hurried, and the boy’s piercing gaze through the glass was making her uncomfortable.

  "Understood."

  "What?" Charon was confused.

  Snap.

  Without warning, every white light in the room died.

  Pure darkness swallowed everything instantly.

  Clack. Clack.

  The sound of heavy footsteps echoed in the dark.

  Creak.

  The owner of the footsteps sat in the chair across from him.

  "First, I would like to apologize. I can guarantee that once we know what we need to know, you will be given your freedom."

  Viktor’s voice was deep and magnetic. Charon couldn't help but feel a surge of tension.

  "If there are no issues, let's begin."

  "Wait, I want to know why you caught me first."

  "The Rift. Your performance in the Rift was far too exceptional, and we cannot verify your identity. Of course, if everything checks out, we will release you after this session."

  "Fine. Let's start." Charon heard a flicker—the sound of a cigarette being lit—but strangely, no light illuminated the space in front of him.

  "Phew... then let us begin."

  "First, about Angela—the lady from just now," Viktor exhaled a cloud of smoke. Though the flame was invisible, the heavy scent of tobacco felt massive in the dark. "Why do you think she doesn't do this often?"

  "Pressure," Charon leaned back, his shackles clinking. "When she used those forceful words to corner me, her momentum was strong. But after I dropped that bad pun, she hesitated. A real interrogator doesn't stop to give the prisoner a chance to counter-attack after a heavy blow; she gave me a blank space. That break in rhythm was too amateur."

  "Perceptive," Viktor chucked low. "Then, let’s talk about that lion. How do you think you survived?"

  "Pure coincidence," Charon replied calmly, though his mind flashed back to the sickly stench of the dead man he had brushed past. He suppressed any ripple regarding his Ferryman powers. "My first instinct was to get away from the loudest woman; after all, the noisy ones usually die first. It backfired, and the lion targeted me instead. To stay alive, I had to dive into the crowd and barely shook it off. But it was that very 'mistake' that made me certain the crying woman was the key to survival."

  "So, did you foresee the turning point before the Sword in the Stone appeared?"

  "I didn't foresee it being a sword," Charon grunted. "But I knew the game was at its end. The audience was cheering, the prey was almost gone... once the 'Villain' finished its performance, and there was nowhere left to run, I knew a way to clear the stage would come."

  Viktor didn't reply immediately. A faint electronic beep echoed in the darkness.

  "Now, I have temporarily closed the shared channel for the observation room. What follows is for your ears and mine only." Viktor’s pace slowed, carrying a chilling pressure. "At the final moment, that stone lion froze for exactly three seconds. That was absolutely not a glitch in the Rift's logic. Was that your ability?"

  Charon was silent for a moment. He knew that against an expert like Viktor, a total lie was meaningless.

  "Yes," Charon admitted bluntly. "I awakened an ability that can forcibly lock a target’s movements for a short time. But the exhaustion I felt afterward wasn't an act."

  "Locking for three seconds..." Viktor savored the words in the dark, a hint of playfulness entering his tone. "Charon, you might think this B-Rank Rift (C, B, A, S, EX) called The Child's Sandbox wasn't particularly difficult—perhaps even a bit disappointing, right?"

  Charon said nothing; that was indeed his honest thought.

  "Drop the contempt," Viktor’s voice turned cold. "That is an insult to us members of the 'Lighthouse.' A Rift of this rank is cleared under the premise that the organization provides logic analysis, real-time supplies, and extraction guidance. You, however, conquered it solo, with zero assistance and zero information. That leap in difficulty is on a completely different scale."

  Viktor stood up, the sound of the chair dragging against the floor exceptionally harsh in the dark.

  "Since you've cast yourself as the 'Main Character,' I'm afraid you'll have to play this role to the end. Come. Let’s go see that 'freedom' you brought back with you."

  Designation: The Child’s Sandbox

  Classification: Rank B

  Overview: This Rift evaluates the subject’s short-term analytical capabilities. The presence of stick-figure illustrations, sand, and simplistic set designs implies the subconscious landscape of a child’s afternoon playtime. The "Child" entity is inherently benevolent and subconsciously designs the scenario to ensure the "Hero’s" victory.

  The narrative objectives vary: at times requiring the protection of an object, acting as a Prince, or performing a classic "Hero Saves the Beauty" feat. If the subject fails to identify the logic that establishes them as the "Protagonist," they will be executed by the Great Lion. However, due to the Great Lion’s moderate power scaling, brute-force completion remains a statistical possibility.