Build an ancient-level power in the nightmare world

Chris was awakened from his sleep by a severe headache, his clothes soaked with cold sweat.

Although his facial expression was slightly distorted by pain, there was no trace of panic in his eyes; this was not the first time he had experienced this.

Chris skillfully reached out and grasped the handle of the hand-cranked gas lamp by the bedside. After turning it a few times, a yellowish-white halo spread out and illuminated the room.

He then struggled to his feet, poured out the last five white pills from the brown glass bottle on his bedside table, and put them directly into his mouth.

He swallowed the pill with a gulp of water from the glass on his bedside table.

"Phew~"

After taking the medicine, Chris let out a comfortable sigh of relief.

After lying in bed and dozing off for a while, the expression on his face gradually relaxed, and the pain in his head was slowly subsiding.

Every now and then, he would get this headache.

The attacks always occur at night, and each attack is accompanied by strange dreams.

In the short time after waking up, Chris was still able to vaguely recall parts of his dream, such as the one that seemed to be about him inheriting a distant relative's estate.

As usual, these dreams always start beautifully, but soon the tone changes abruptly, and then he wakes up from the dream.

After feeling a bit better, Chris got up again, picked up the now empty brown glass bottle, and frowned slightly.

The medicine used to only require two pills to relieve the pain, but now it takes five pills to barely stop the pain, and less than a month has passed.

Every medicine has some degree of toxicity, let alone medicines produced in this era that has only just experienced the First Industrial Revolution.

But he had no choice but to either suffer the pain or continue taking more painkillers.

As for a complete cure, with the current medical technology in this world, Chris has no hope whatsoever.

A month ago, he was just an ordinary college student on Earth.

During his sophomore summer vacation, he was taking his driving test (Part 3), and everything was going smoothly.

But to his surprise, just as he was about to finish the exam, a yellow coat that seemed to have flown out of nowhere suddenly covered the windshield.

At the same time, the car's brakes failed and the steering wheel went out of control.

The test vehicle was electronically monitored, and he was the only person in the car.

Before he could react, everything went black, and when he woke up, he was already lying on this bed.

Through fragmented memories, he learned that he was an orphan who grew up in an orphanage.

The original owner's life was quite bumpy.

He grew up in an orphanage, and was later tricked into working illegally in a workhouse. After finally escaping, he was introduced by a kind person to work as an apprentice at a leatherworker's place. He learned a skill that allowed him to support himself, and later he even got a job at a good company. Life was going in a good direction when he suddenly developed a strange headache.

He guessed that the original owner, Chris Craft, had been tortured to death in the middle of the night a month earlier.

In his previous life, he was also a fine young man who had been exposed to online novels, so he accepted the idea of ​​time travel very quickly.

He possesses most of Chris Craft's recent memories, along with a few fragmented memories from his childhood. In addition, he has inherited most of the skills and knowledge that Chris Craft learned in this world.

From that moment on, he began his life as Chris Craft.

Chris put down the medicine bottle and lay back down on the bed.

"I need to get some more medicine tomorrow."

"Or should I see a different doctor?"

Chris was talking to himself in bed.

He was not confident in the level of medical care in this world, and seeing a doctor here was also a very expensive thing.

With his current income, it wouldn't be difficult for him to go to a better hospital and see a better doctor if he saved up some money.

He now works at a leather goods company, where his job is to make various types of mid-to-high-end handmade leather bags, and his income is decent.

However, the original owner took out a loan last year to buy this apartment located at 037 Nottingham Street, Unit 102 on the first floor. The apartment is a one-bedroom apartment with a separate bathroom.

After paying off his loan each month and covering his daily expenses, how much money he has left depends entirely on whether he has any extra expenses that month.

The money for the last doctor's visit was saved up over three months by the original owner. In the end, the doctor couldn't find a clear cause of the illness and could only prescribe some painkillers, but still charged the full consultation fee.

Chris had enough money, besides necessary expenses, to buy enough painkillers to last about a month.

The premise is that his headache does not continue to worsen, otherwise the dosage will have to be increased, and a month may not be enough.

"Sigh~"

Chris knew all too well that chronic headaches, even in his previous world, were not a disease that could be easily cured.

Recently, he has even been thinking about whether to try his luck at a few nearby churches.

Whether it works or not, it doesn't cost any money.

The original owner of this body, a native, had been suffering from headaches for more than half a year without ever suspecting that he had been tainted by something unclean. On the contrary, the transmigrator felt that his headaches might not be so simple.

After all, even time travel has happened to me, so what else is impossible?

He always felt that the nightmares that accompanied his headaches were not so simple.

Is the nightmare caused by the headache, or is the headache caused by the nightmare?

Who is the cause, and who is the effect?

Chris couldn't tell the difference.

He can only ask a professional to take a look.

The doctor has already been consulted, but it was no use. Now we can only see if the clergy in the church have any real skills.

He didn't have much hope for it either.

After the painkiller took effect, Chris could clearly feel that with each breath he took, his headache lessened a little.

However, at the same time, the content of this dream in his mind will gradually be forgotten in the process.

He picked up the pocket watch on the bedside table and glanced at the time: four in the morning.

Chris works at Louis's Leather Goods Company. He starts work at 8 a.m. every day and usually leaves home at 7:20 a.m. The journey takes about 30 minutes. He is used to arriving at the company 10 minutes early to avoid being late due to unexpected events on the way and thus losing his perfect attendance bonus.

Although it's only 80 copper crowns, it can buy about a bottle of painkillers or 15 large wheat breads.

There was still some time before he went to work, so Chris usually read a book to pass the time.

Chris enjoys reading, which helps him learn more about the world.

He had read most of the common-sense books in the past month, and recently he rented a novel to pass the time at night.

As for why not rent some professional books to improve oneself.

First, the library doesn't lend out those books, Chris has to work and doesn't have much time to spend in the library, and those books are quite expensive to borrow each time.

Secondly, Chris's original self in this world was just an ordinary person who had never formally attended school. He learned many things on his own during his growth. Given the limited vocabulary he inherited, he would most likely not understand the professional terms involved in those skills, and the cost of relearning them would be too high. In his current state, he cannot spare enough time and energy to do these things.

Like most corporate employees, he only gets one day off a week, with only four or five days off a month. On weekdays, he works from 8 a.m. to 7 p.m.

If I don't work, I won't have money to pay my mortgage or buy painkillers.

This is only because Nottingham Street is a bargain in Rohm, and apartment 037 is an even bigger bargain, which is why he can afford the mortgage here.

As for why the house at 037 Nottingham Street is so cheap, Chris had a general idea. It was probably due to its poor location, rumors of it being a haunted house, and years of disrepair.

If Chris were given another chance, he certainly wouldn't choose to buy a property on his own before he has accumulated enough wealth.

However, this was the original owner's choice a year ago.

Chris has considered selling the house now.

Unfortunately, just one year later, the house prices here have dropped by another 15%, and there's no guarantee that anyone will take them on.

Even if someone takes over, he'll only have paid a 20% down payment. If the other party tries to negotiate the price down during the transaction, and the government adds various taxes, he won't get much money back after selling the house.

Renting a decent apartment at that time will probably cost about the same as the mortgage payment each month.

Moreover, he hasn't really reached the point of desperation yet.

Having your own house is always much more convenient.

Chris sat back on the bed, opened the novel titled "The Shadow of the Iron Key," and began to read it intently.

Time always flies when reading novels.

A distant chime pulled Chris back from the world of the novel.

He looked at the novel in his hand, which had less than five pages left, sighed, and could only helplessly close it.

This is the chime of the clock tower in the city center. Every morning at 7 o'clock, the clock tower will chime for the first time.

At first, Chris thought this was a reminder to all the cattle and horses in Rom City that it was time to go to work.

But he later discovered that, apart from some public officials, only a handful of employees from a dozen or so companies were able to start work at 8 a.m. every day like him.

Most people start working as early as 7 a.m. or even earlier.

Chris works for Louis Handbag Company, which produces various handbags primarily for the middle and upper classes. It is considered the prototype of handcrafted luxury goods in the world, so it is quite profitable and that's why he gets this treatment.

The climax of "Shadow of the Iron Key" has already arrived, but Chris has to prepare to set off.

He only had about 15 minutes to get dressed, wash up, and have his breakfast.

The tram arrives at Nottingham Street around 7:20 am every day, stopping for a maximum of one minute. If he misses it, he has to walk to work or hire a horse-drawn carriage on the street. However, the carriage cannot enter the pedestrian street where his company is located, so he still has to walk a distance and will definitely be late.

At 7:15, Chris came downstairs carrying a black briefcase.

As usual, after stepping out of the apartment building, he casually glanced at the mailbox belonging to his apartment.

Today is September 15th. Bank statements are usually sent to him on the 5th of each month to remind him to make payments on time. In addition, there are occasionally some municipal or GG promotional leaflets in his mailbox.

Chris has obsessive-compulsive disorder; he checks his mailbox every day and then empties it to make sure he doesn't miss any bills or letters.

"what?"

Chris peered through the gap in the mailbox and clearly saw an envelope lying crookedly inside.

Although somewhat puzzled as to why he would receive a letter today, Chris quickly took out the mailbox key, opened the mailbox, and retrieved the letter.

After receiving the letter, Chris didn't stop walking and continued briskly towards the alley exit.

But after taking only a couple of steps, he suddenly slowed down and then stopped in place.

Chris looked at the letter in his hand, his brow furrowing slightly.

The sender's name was clearly written as: Madison Asset Management Company.