After dinner, Baron returned to his bedroom, his stomach full. He lay on his bed, gazing at the moonlight outside the window as he reflected on everything he had experienced so far.

Transmigration, imprisonment, a prison break, fleeing to the Inner Side, a second trip to the Prole world, the Blood Demon incident, becoming an A Level intern specialist at Westminster Cathedral...

It was a miserable series of events that had left him hovering on the brink of death more than once.

But these repeated escapes and the experience of being framed also made Baron realize his own shortcomings and weaknesses.

His combat skills were still too poor. If his revolver were taken from him, he would have to rely solely on instinct to dodge, and he’d have no way of inflicting any real damage on a Law Enforcer of the same tier.

But combat skill wasn’t something he could improve overnight.

According to Jack, on the Inner Side, almost every middle-class Old Race family planned out their children’s future career paths from a young age.

If they were to become a Knight, they would be sent to a Preparatory Knight Order to learn the relevant combat systems ahead of time. These were generally Contract Knights.

Faith Knights, on the other hand, were a specialty of the Holy Cross Association, which didn’t openly recruit.

The same was true for the Saints of the Inquisition. Wizards were the only exception, as this was the path chosen by nearly every family that dreamed of having a Law Enforcer among their ranks.

They would spend a fortune to send their children to a dedicated Wizard School, where they would learn to chant various Magic Card Spells ahead of time. During their studies, they would awaken their Spiritual Sense and complete a high-school-level curriculum.

If they excelled in all their subjects and passed the final examination, they would receive a graduation certificate. The top performers in the final exam would also be granted a Wizard’s Lawbook and a Wizard’s Trial from the Wizard School.

After completing the Trial, they could sign the Wizard’s Lawbook and become a Wizard—a status that allowed them to look down on practically every other Law Enforcer in Europe.

As for Demon Hunters, not only were the cultivation methods of the Beast Faction almost completely monopolized by the Old Blood Clan, but the Demon Hunter’s Lawbook was only issued after one became an officially registered Demon Hunter with the Demon Hunter Association.

Furthermore, the Magic Potions required by the Silver Faction were prohibitively expensive. That, combined with the incredibly high mortality rate for Demon Hunter candidates, was enough to dissuade most families from sending their children down that path.

Take, for example, the large group of Demon Hunters led by Bill that Baron had seen in Inner London.

In reality, there were probably only a few true Black Iron Tier Demon Hunters among them. The vast majority were just Preparatory Demon Hunters who had gotten lucky, picking off one or two Demon Fiends to earn a single Command Spell, which only allowed them to use the [Forbidden Magic Silver Mercury Mist].

They would only become official Demon Hunters on the day they had three Command Spells engraved on their hands.

Although Baron didn’t know how a Black Iron Demon Hunter in this world advanced, he figured it was probably similar to the Inner Side. In addition to refining one’s skills, it also required the kind of intuition that could only be forged in life-or-death battles.

’I’m training as both a Contract Knight and a Demon Hunter, yet all I ever do is shoot my gun or run away. If all else fails, I use Dragon Flame like a flamethrower. Thinking about it... what a waste.’

Drowsiness washed over him. He closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, he was in the Flower Sea.

Before Baron could even process what had happened, a rapier was kicked to his side.

"My lord, please pick up the sword."

Baron looked up in astonishment. He saw the Shepherdess, who had shed her dress for a practical Hunting Outfit. Beneath a leather tricorn hat, her silver hair gleamed.

She too held a rapier, its tip pointed at Baron. Her face was as pale as snow, and her lips, as red as blood, parted as she spoke.

"By order of the Dream Master, I will now demonstrate the art of the hunt to hone your skills."

"Wai—"

Before Baron could even get a proper grip on the sword, the Shepherdess ran him through the head.

Baron jolted awake from the dream, realizing with a start that he was drenched in a cold sweat.

He felt his head. It was still in one piece.

Yet the searing pain, the sensation of the blade piercing his skull and his brains splattering, the blinding moonlight flooding his vision—it had all felt so terrifyingly real.

As if a thought struck him, he hastily pulled out the playing card that symbolized the Dream Master’s right hand. He found that the card’s two jokers—one black-and-white, the other in color—were now shimmering and intermingling.

He placed his hand on the card and distinctly heard the Shepherdess’s voice. "Please be better prepared next time, my lord."

Baron froze for a moment as the full implication of the situation dawned on him. Without hesitation, he quickly closed his eyes, let sleep take him, and entered the dream once more.

He opened his eyes.

Just as he’d expected, the Shepherdess was already waiting for him in the eerie blue Flower Sea, a longsword held in a one-handed salute.

’An infinitely resetting dream with a personal training partner? And the damage taken in the dream doesn’t carry over to reality?’

’Isn’t this just like grinding levels in a video game? It seems the Dream Master isn’t just making me work for free. There are some perks, after all!’

Baron picked up the sword. "I’m ready," he told the Shepherdess.

The words had barely left his mouth when he saw the Shepherdess take a series of bizarre steps through the Flower Sea. He dodged on pure instinct but was still run through the heart with a direct thrust.

The sensation of suffocation and pain instantly overwhelmed him.

’Hey, I know this is an employee benefit, but Lord Dream Master, could you maybe turn the pain sensitivity down a notch?’

Baron fell to his knees and died. When he opened his eyes, he was back in the room the Black Moon Church had prepared for him.

He glanced at the water clock on his nightstand. It was still the middle of the night; only two or three minutes had passed since he’d fallen asleep. ’It seems the flow of time in the dream is different from reality,’ he thought.

Now he was truly ecstatic. Without a second thought, he fell right back to sleep.

He was used to sleeping in dormitories from his middle and high school days in his past life. On top of that, his new life since transmigrating had been one of constant flight. As a result, Baron could fall asleep at the drop of a hat.