Yes! He's the god of acting

The crowd shook their heads in unison.

"An Enforcer and an Enforcement Officer," Beker began, his voice carrying the weight of ancient knowledge. "One letter's difference, yet a chasm separates them. This isn't merely a matter of rank—it's about power itself. An Enforcer is simply an ordinary person granted the right to uphold the law. But an Enforcement Officer..." He paused, letting the words hang in the air like incense. "An Enforcement Officer walks their own Divine Path."

The young faces before him leaned forward, hungry for more.

"Legend speaks of eighteen Divine Paths that existed before the Great Catastrophe—each unique, each powerful. But as civilizations crumbled and ages passed, only fourteen remain accessible to us."

Beker's eyes grew distant, as if seeing through the veil of time itself.

"These fourteen paths are known by an ancient rhyme: Scholar, Healer, Warrior, Earth, Wind, Artisan, Strategist; Actor, Puppeteer, Witch, Strength, Prophet, Thief, Courtesan."

A collective intake of breath rippled through the group.

"Each Divine Path," he continued, "leads to a throne of godhood. Complete the journey, and you transcend mortality itself—you become divine."

William felt his pulse quicken. The memory of last night's battle flickered in his mind—Beker's mysterious domain, the raw power that had torn through that crimson horror.

"Here in the Aurora Realm, our Enforcers follow the Path of the Warrior God. According to Aurora City regulations, every Enforcer who serves faithfully for three years earns the right to enter the Ancient Warrior's Vault. Pass its trials, and the Path may choose you."

The word choose resonated strangely in the air, as if it carried more weight than mere selection.

"Once chosen, your status changes forever. You become an Enforcement Officer."

The promise of divinity sparked something primal in every young heart present. William could practically feel the collective surge of ambition.

A tentative voice broke the spell: "Sir, is the Ancient Vault the only way to access a Divine Path?"

Beker's expression grew contemplative. "Theoretically, no. The key lies in earning the Path's recognition. If you possess extraordinary natural talent, or if a Path deems you were born to walk it, it will call to you directly." His voice dropped to barely above a whisper. "We call such individuals the God-Touched."

The air itself seemed to thicken with possibility.

"I once met a boy from the Southern Sea Realm. He began painting at three, self-taught and brilliant. At five, he used nothing but rice porridge to paint 'A Hundred Boats Racing' on the ground. The Path of Wind claimed him instantly—the youngest Divine Path walker in recorded history."

Gasps echoed through the crowd.

"But the God-Touched are rarer than phoenix feathers. Most must earn their power through the Ancient Vaults. However," Beker's tone grew grave, "not all Vaults exist within human territory. Some lie at the crossroads between the Gray Realm and our reality—places where ordinary mortals cannot tread."

His words painted images of impossible landscapes, places where the very air might kill an unprepared soul.

"This makes certain Paths nearly impossible to access through trials alone. The Path of Earth, the Path of the Actor, the Path of the Thief, the Path of the Courtesan—these can only be walked by the God-Touched. Their numbers are... sparse."

William's analytical mind catalogued every detail, but one question burned brighter than the rest.

"You said these are the only Paths recognized by humanity. Does that mean there are others?"

Beker's gaze fixed on him with uncomfortable intensity. The silence stretched until William wondered if he'd overstepped some invisible boundary.

"Yes," came the eventual reply, heavy with warning. "And you must never seek them. The Fusion Cultists abandon their humanity, willingly merging with the Calamities. The Crimson Sky Sect worships the disaster stars themselves." His voice turned to steel. "Touch these paths, and there's only one fate awaiting you—every human realm will hunt you down until you're nothing but ash and memory."

The phrase ash and memory sent ice through William's veins. If the presence inside him truly was a Calamity, did that make him a Fusion Cultist? The thought of confessing to an Enforcer now seemed like signing his own death warrant.

[Audience Anticipation +10] [Current Anticipation: 33%]

The ethereal text flickered across his vision, and William silently cursed whatever twisted entities found entertainment in his potential doom.

"Could these... heretical paths ever access the Divine Paths?" someone asked.

"Never." Beker's certainty was absolute. "No Divine Path would grant its blessing to monsters who embrace corruption."

Disappointment crashed over William like a cold wave. As someone displaced from another world, he'd naturally hoped for power beyond the mundane. But if he truly was a Fusion Cultist...

"Your assignments begin now," Beker announced, ending William's spiral of dark thoughts. "Three days from now, we'll see who among you has what it takes to remain."

The crowd stirred as several Enforcers stepped forward with assignment lists.

"Arlan, Cesar—assist with patrols in District Three, Frost Cloud Street. Haley, Gong Heng—District Three, Frost Snow Street..."

William listened as names were called, noting how the later assignments involved increasingly remote locations. Some unlucky souls were even assigned to cross-district support in District Two.

"...Edric, William—assist with patrols in District Two, Ice Spring Street..."

William's blood chilled. District Two? He lived on Frost Street in District Three—why send him so far from home? The commute alone would consume four hours daily, leaving him no time for anything else.

"The evaluation begins immediately. You have three hours to prepare at home, then report for duty."

As the crowd dispersed, William sensed something was wrong but couldn't pinpoint what.

"Hey, you're William, right?"

A thin, nervous-looking boy approached hesitantly.

"I'm Wu Youdong. Looks like we're partners for District Two."

After a brief introduction, Wu leaned closer conspiratorially. "Did you slip Max any money?"

"Money?"

"Max—the Enforcement Officer who read the assignments. He controls all personnel decisions." Wu's expression grew rueful. "Guess you didn't either. No wonder we got the worst assignment."

Understanding dawned on William like a slap. He remembered the rickshaw driver's words: "What's the point of being an Enforcer without money?"

Even the street laborers knew the truth about Enforcer corruption. The rot ran deeper than William had imagined.

After Wu hurried home to pack, William headed for the exit. He'd barely stepped outside when a cold voice stopped him dead.

"Hold it."

William turned slowly. Beker stood in the shadows by the entrance, a cigarette dangling from his lips, eyes fixed on William with predatory intensity.

"You're William, aren't you?"