There Is No Hidden Villain in This Novel Chapter 130

Ryuseong’s location was right outside Scheherazade’s room. He had no intention of falling for Cassis’s mischievous magic, but Ryuseong, who had been keeping an eye on Cassis all along, had quietly settled near the noisy place, unlike Shin Myohan who had said he would go look around elsewhere.

It wasn’t a place he knew from before the regression. But he knew Araea well enough. So, even seeing the random concept of telling scary stories, he could roughly guess its meaning. And when the goblin told them to talk about ‘a story that brought them despair,’ he thought his prediction was correct, but his heart still sank.

The most frightening, terrifying, and sad story of one’s life. A miserable, desperate, and endlessly lamentable event that left a trauma on one’s life.

‘To think that an event that dared to try and break you…’

He was saddened that an event of such weight had to be told in this manner.

‘If you’re going to make us forget everything in here anyway, why did you set a penalty! You crazy professors!’

Ah, my blood pressure was suddenly starting to rise. I did that to hear Logan’s weakness, but at this rate, don’t I just look like a fool who only freed him from his gag and took all the losses!

The words that followed hammered a nail into my coffin as I was about to lose it.

“It won’t remain in anyone’s memory. Not the person next to you, not the professors. Because I am a book made from the bamboo of a bamboo forest! I have crossed paths with your fates to become your bamboo forest.”

As it spoke, the goblin grew larger and larger, taking on the form of an adult. Its five-colored jeogori began to turn black, becoming the hem of a neatly tied dopo, and a black gat appeared on its head.

Its appearance was like that of a grim reaper, but it didn’t feel ominous or dark.

‘Rather, if you were to say it was an affection so profound it was sorrowful…’

In any case, it didn’t seem like the professors had planned this event because they were sadists who enjoyed tormenting the cadets. The goblin, with a now more handsome face, floated in the air, looking down at all of us and said.

“I will remember your stories. I will remember the wounds you hold in your hearts. You are those with power. Do not neglect your wounds until your spirit becomes weak. Confess them. Unburden yourselves and cast them away. I listen to your stories on the condition that my existence will vanish the moment I speak of them.”

Just as I was wondering how successful a therapy session specializing in Clearers would be, the goblin declared firmly and solemnly. As if cradling the most lovable children…

“So I say again. No person in this world can carry your stories out of here, so please, I hope you will confess them with peace of mind. No person in this room will be able to take the stories outside.”

And so I knew what I had to do.

“Any one of you, start. Make it interesting. Unconditionally interesting. The poignant tragedy of your life.”

Soon after, the goblin declared the beginning of the stories.

But a short while later…

“Is this place filled with nothing but cowards?”

The goblin had lost its affection for humanity. And for good reason, because Capone, who had volunteered to be the next one, had also ruined his story by muttering some nonsense before ending with a ghost jumping out. I mean, I understand, but…

‘Even I wouldn’t want to talk unless I was sure my memories would be erased.’

Just as everyone entered a mode of nervously watching each other.

“Alright, to boost your motivation, I’ll introduce a special rule! It’s simple. The person who tells the scariest story will get a prize from me!”

For the first time, everyone started looking at the goblin with intrigued expressions. The goblin continued in an even more exaggerated tone.

“Getting benefits in the mission? Possible. All sorts of special privileges, like using the Earth-shrinking technique limited to this field, are all possible. Within this space, I’ll even let you use advanced martial arts! Anything is possible!”

Oh… so that’s how it is?

I deliberately asked casually, as if it were no big deal.

“Is it possible to get rid of a penalty?”

The goblin raised an eyebrow. This guy would remember that I got a penalty for saving Logan. It was clear he found it amusing.

“Hoh? If the story you hold is that scary, then it’s possible. But can you do it?”

“Is it possible to receive 100 million in mission fees?”

“Likewise, if it’s the scariest?”

“Then get rid of the penalty and give me 100 million.”

“I never said I’d give you both.”

I knew it. I chuckled, as if slightly holding back a sneer.

“You said anything was possible, but you don’t seem confident?”

“…You’re making me very expectant. Do not betray that expectation and make me regret it.”

My opponent was a goblin, after all, and he fell for the provocation perfectly.

I pretended to mock him even more.

“Since you put it that way, I suppose I must show you my true skills.”

“So confident. Then begin!”

“No, no.”

Me, the first one up? No way. Don’t even professional writers revise what they’ve written once? I had a story, but I needed time to make it scarier. As is always the case with stories, guaranteeing an average is one thing, but making it great requires a few more things, doesn’t it? In short, it was a ploy to hold out until the end and present the most polished version, but I acted bold.

“Shouldn’t the most delicious thing be eaten last?”

“…What a fine spirit!”

The goblin seemed to like my words. Having been granted the last turn, I watched as the remaining members drew lots.

‘Nice. Mission fee extortion for the money I lost because of Logan is a great success.’

It’s better than extorting it from a person, right?

While I was admiring my own ethics and goodness, Lee Hyang was chosen as the first storyteller.

“What I’m going to talk about is a secret group ritual in Korea.”

Hmm, a story about a pseudo-religion or a cult. It’s something one could experience in life if they’re unlucky. Lee Hyang continued cautiously.

“You all probably know this ritual. No, there’s no way you wouldn’t.”

I don’t. While everyone looked puzzled, the story continued anyway.

“It’s a ritual where blood relatives, whose blood has been passed down for generations, honor the dead. They gather at the time the moon rises. Just among the kinsmen. There are various rules. For example, in strict places, you can’t even turn on a fan during the ritual, no matter how hot it is. But the most famous and common one is probably that there is a forbidden fruit. In this ritual, there should be no hindrance on the path the dead come and go, and the door must be wide open to welcome them.”

While the Koreans in the room bowed their heads deeply for some reason, Lee Hyang continued nonchalantly.

“There’s a special rule about how blood is inherited. So usually, the eldest elder goes to greet them first, but the first son of the first son who inherited the blood can also step forward. The women of the family gather together to prepare the offerings. When the dead arrive at the offerings, the descendants gather and bow twice…”

While the foreigners listened with serious expressions, I bit my lip hard.

This…

‘It’s jesa.’

I resented Lee Hyang. It seemed she thought it would work somehow since there were many foreigners here…

“After they have eaten all the offerings, they then bestow ‘something’ upon their descendants. It could be a blessing or a curse. The offerings dedicated to the dead in this way become the meal of the living after the ritual is over.”

Please, Lee Hyang is killing me. My body may be Cassis de Millang, but my soul was once Korean. Lee Hyang finished her story in a spooky tone.

“…It’s a story that’s actually happening somewhere, even now.”

Then Hae Yuna chimed in with a choked voice. To others, it probably sounded as if she was helpless and pitiful.

“That’s right, that’s right. Still…”

All the while, the goblin was looking at us with an expression that said it was dying of laughter. Especially at the group who were shocked to learn for the first time about some sacrificial ritual practiced in Korea. The goblin said.

“Good. It seems most of you were scared. To pass off a story like that, should I call it clever, or cunning… So, how is everyone?”

At that, everyone’s expressions—for example, those who were desperately trying not to look scared or those who were genuinely creeped out—all changed to ones of surprise. Capone muttered.

“What story did I just hear…?”

Dietrich also looked confused and bewildered.

“I remember something was unsettling and eerie…”

Others chimed in.

“I can’t remember anything!”

“I think I found it kind of interesting.”

“What on earth was it? Did he even tell a story?”

I could see everyone relax only after confirming that they had all lost their memories. It seemed they were reassured that they could really talk about deep things.

Except for me, who remembered everything.

Uh… Didn’t it say that everyone in this room would have their memories erased? But my memory is vivid. What’s the problem this time?

‘Ah, am I not a person again?’