Occult Romantic Comedy! Chapter 6.13

‘If this were a mark intended to inform others, it would have been left much more clearly…’

If that were the case, it meant someone had left this mark covertly to move back and forth alone.

Timothy’s heart rate quickened as he reflected on the fact that he was experiencing all sorts of adventures in his life. Had this place not been blocked all along? Was the wire on the door not poorly maintained, but simply a temporary replacement by someone who had already visited? Was it occupied by a squatter? Or, perhaps, really…

‘Did I hit the jackpot?’

To know the answer, he had no choice but to keep moving. Splash, splash. Timothy, moving forward with the sound of treading through water, sucked in a sharp breath as he turned a corner. In another alley beyond the passage, he saw a white light illuminating the wall.

Timothy stood still for a moment to check for any moving shadows before stepping out again. The splashing sound of his footsteps announcing his presence was driving him mad with irritation. His heart pounded so hard he wondered if this was the thrill a person feels when first discovering a gold vein.

And he could bet that such a person would have been very happy.

“…”

A small nook of the underground corridor prepared at the corner had a floor a couple of steps higher than the rest.

In that cramped space, about half the size of Timothy’s house, the walls and the floor of the platform were covered in figures drawn in red and a strange language. Thanks to the light from the LED lantern hanging on the wall, there was no room for confusion. It was the exact same pattern that had forced him to scrape at the walls of the sandstone cave at dawn.

The altar attached to the corner wall was also familiar. On the altar, soaked in animal blood, were objects like old spurs or cowboy boots heavily studded with tacks. Since no one would have placed mere costumes there, they were undoubtedly items used in life by the evil spirit—or spirits—that had entered the Governor’s body.

On the floor of the platform, which remained untouched by the water, lay various posters that the Governor might have used in some past election campaign. Though the surfaces were warped and bubbling from the moisture, the red figures and language drawn over the faces were not difficult to recognize.

Everything was exactly as Timothy remembered, except for the fact that it had been prepared about three times more grandiosely than the previous time.

His sense of reality had dropped so low that he found himself thinking things like, ‘Living as a celebrity must be really tough…’ when a drop of water fell onto his head with a drip. Timothy reflexively shook his head and checked his phone. As expected, it was an out-of-service area, but that didn’t matter now.

7:31 p.m.

That meant 31 minutes had passed since Tasha attacked the Governor at the press conference where she had summoned a swarm of media.

‘You want me to hit the Governor right now?’

‘Why does everyone want to use their fists… I’m saying we should threaten them by saying we know the location where the ritual was held and that we are heading there now.’

‘But we don’t know it.’

‘David Weiner doesn’t know that we don’t know, either.’

Would he simply not know? Since he had thoroughly screwed over Timothy and Jonathan right in front of them, he was likely gloating, thinking everything was going his way. He might be sitting on a leather sofa somewhere, stroking a cat while watching the Governor’s emergency press conference.

While he was caught off guard like that, he would surely move in a hurry if he heard news that the M.C.E.E. was heading toward the ritual site. And as this Great Sacramento Operation proved, when people are gathered in a rush, only a small number of personnel end up moving.

‘Hmm, it’s highly likely he’ll head for the real ritual site. Since the Governor is the most important figure, after all.’

‘Still, wouldn’t attacking the Governor recklessly put the prophet lady in danger? Tim, you’ve been victimized by Benjamin, too.’

‘God damn it, I’m the one who was victimized the most, okay?’

‘…That’s why we need onlookers. There will be noise in Ms. Rivers’ career… but we have to bring up the fact that the Governor is possessed and that we are going to interfere with it in front of as many people as possible.’

‘My career won’t crumble that easily. Let’s go with holding the press conference then. I’ve suddenly started so many things anyway, so I can use anything as an excuse.’

Tasha, who managed to understand Timothy’s words even in the chaotic situation where several people were speaking in turn, quickly brought up something only a press aide would be capable of. As if conspiracies and schemes were not exclusive to the political arena, the others soon began to supplement the proposal one by one. They suggested starting the press conference as late as possible since the real ritual site had to be found before NT arrived, and that they should go to large locations in teams.

There was a high possibility that they might not find the ritual site at all, and even if they did, they might not have the luxury of waiting for reinforcements. That was why Timothy had said they would go dangerously. Even if they succeeded in luring out NT, there was a high probability they would have to leave the rest to the individual. That was the reason people who could react quickly, like Lio or Jonathan, were sent to locations that seemed highly likely.

‘I hope to God they don’t go toward Mr. O’Welly’s side!’

‘…I’m not the only one going alone.’

‘But Mr. O’Welly is a civilian! What will you do if David Weiner suddenly uses a curse or something?’

He couldn’t just take Jun’s valid point lying down. However, Jonathan was one step faster than Timothy, who was about to say, “If I get hit by a curse…”

‘If you get hit by a curse, most people die even if they aren’t civilians. Scott would probably die, too.’

‘Why am I suddenly dying…’

‘Besides,’

Jonathan didn’t look back at Timothy while saying those words, but Timothy guessed he was wearing a cheeky smile.

‘Nono’s reporter isn’t a civilian.’

“I am a civilian…”

Timothy, muttering a rebuttal half a day late to himself, scanned the ritual site slowly once more.

Time was not on Timothy’s side, and all he held in his hands were a phone incapable of contact and a bag containing a few items. Unless he planned to take down the NT members—whose numbers were unknown—one by one with the cutters he had used to snip the wire, he needed a plan.

“I’m a civilian…”

A group that reaches out even to the Governor to stand against a secret organization like the M.C.E.E., trying to seize California or America. How should a civilian deal with such an NT alone?

“…”

Timothy, who continued his thoughts without a single sigh, slowly closed and opened his eyes.

‘There’s no need for that.’

He had to change the premise.

🎃

Splash, splash, splash…

The footsteps that had been running quickly, splashing water, began to slow down near the corner. The breathing of the single person approaching the white light became quiet, as if trying to kill their presence belatedly.

It was impossible to hide all traces. The shadow that had been stretching as if resisting the white light in order to arrive even a moment later finally revealed itself beyond the corner.

“Ha.”

David, who showed clear signs of exhaustion from running through the foul water for a long time, was finally able to confirm the safety of the ritual altar he had cherished so much. The altar was so perfectly intact that the momentum with which the Governor had been pushed—as if they were going to bring in an excavator and level it—seemed questionable. But that wasn’t why he let out a hollow laugh.

“We meet again, Python.”

All other entrances leading into the underground corridors had been thoroughly sealed. Thus, it was certain that the man before him had also passed through a treacherous maze, just as he had. However, the man was sitting in the center of the altar with his long legs crossed, swinging them lightly in a relaxed manner. The tapping tip of his foot looked dangerous, much like a viper’s tail.

Even though he was under the LED lantern emitting white light, his jet-black hair did not shine, and from his forehead down to the bridge of his nose, a line stretched straight to create an equal amount of shadow. Sharp eyes that did not allow for a shred of kindness and a cold mouth. Clear green eyes that shone wickedly as if they could not be avoided anywhere in the old underground corridor.

Unlike the pathetic and stupid final image of him sinking into the ground, he sat in a finished posture as if he had invited his opponent to a chess game he had prepared…

“Timothy O’Welly.”

“To think you’d come alone. You’ve got guts.”

The low voice echoing through the underground corridor clung to the ears. The shadow stretching out beneath the altar was massive, as if it were about to swallow the floor.

Was he this kind of man?

David had to reconsider every judgment he had made about Timothy O’Welly.

“I’m equally surprised. What’s the idea?”

If he hadn’t seen this leisurely appearance, he would have assumed the man had collapsed because he lacked the ability to ruin the ritual alone. At David’s tense, hostile gaze, Timothy merely curled the corners of his mouth into a smile without answering. David couldn’t even guess what the man with that dangerous smile was thinking.

Inside the head of Timothy—whom David Weiner was so wary of—only one thought was filled.

‘Ah… I hate this…’

Greeting David with such a heavy dose of bluffing was by no means something he enjoyed doing. David, whom he had observed closely for a short while, was a man who acted with all sorts of pretension even when performing crude villainous acts like hitting someone on the back of the head to knock them out. Timothy’s assumption that people who want to leave an impression on others in that way are vulnerable to appearances was valid.

So, the person he benchmarked was Jonathan. He didn’t exactly copy Jonathan’s attitude, but he thoroughly followed the mindset with which Jonathan showed a secret and obsessive interest in fictional characters.

He felt restless from doing something that didn’t suit his nature, but it couldn’t be helped. Just because Jonathan’s encouragement last night—praising Nono’s reporter—had been undeniably heartening didn’t mean it was possible to suddenly fire off superpowers to restrain David. Nor did he want to be reckless enough to stand against NT alone.

While waiting for David, Timothy racked his brain as hard as he could. What should he do?

When he changed the premise, everything became much easier.

‘I don’t have to do it “alone.”’

This was a plan devised under the expectation that NT would move. Once the press conference began, Max decided to check the locations of all personnel for a quick subsequent response. If there was no contact for a long time from Timothy, who had sent his last location saying he was entering a closed underground corridor, she would send people here, and Timothy just had to stall for time until then. Of course, he had hidden the manual cutters under his feet to serve as a last resort.

‘Still, it’s a real relief that the other guy came alone… He acted like some giant conspiracy organization, but I guess he doesn’t have any colleagues to bring along at a time like this…’

Behind the expression of Timothy, who was acting relaxed, acting like he ruled this stage, and putting on all sorts of airs, David—who didn’t know what reflections were floating around—silently rolled his eyes as if scanning the surroundings. The voice that flowed out again showed signs of having regained quite a bit of composure, as if asking when he had ever been flustered. As expected, his career in “pretending” was on a different level.

“Are you waiting for your friends?”

It was as he said, but this was not information that would be good to let him guess. Timothy ignored the pained scream within him and tilted one corner of his mouth at an angle.

“Friends?”

Forgive me, Max. Timothy, who prayed briefly in his heart, shifted the conversation slightly in a direction that could keep David pinned down.

“I thought you, of all people, would know how meaningless such relationships are. I suppose NT relies on such cotton-candy unicorn things.”

“…I must have misjudged you. I thought you were a vermin reporter following the M.C.E.E. around, scouring the floors for traces of an ideality you could never reach. I apologize.”

Does he think that’s an insult of a level that can be solved with an apology? However, taking a step back was a good sign. Timothy decided to act even more arrogant to completely crush David’s pride and take the initiative.

“I didn’t feel the need to let you know my inner thoughts unless you were someone who deserved it.”

“Well, that’s an honor. Did you feel like letting me know?”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself. Of course, you are more enterprising than the M.C.E.E., who always tries to clean up only after an incident has exploded. It’s also a shame that the chance to talk openly with you one-on-one has only just arisen. But seeing you driven by the M.C.E.E. and running here like a rabbit… I suppose I misjudged you as well.”

Hmm, were the words too harsh?

Seeing David’s expression distort, Timothy finished his speech shorter than he had prepared. Compared to the criticism he was going to unleash after this, he had barely even started, but there was no benefit in the conversation breaking down too early. Fortunately or unfortunately, because he had been dragging a person more delicate and sensitive than David around with him lately, Timothy knew when to adjust.

Timothy smiled and spread both hands. It was a gesture of reconciliation that hid the underlying intent of acting amiably until the moment he could strike the back of his head, while continuing to trade barbs like this to pass the time.

If there was one thing Timothy overlooked, it was the fact that the type of human who lives on pride, like David, suffers an enormous emotional wound when ignored. David took a step forward and threatened in a trembling voice that couldn’t hide his anger.

“I have laid out a plan more grand than any of yours. Unlike the M.C.E.E., who rushes about in a flurry only after an anomaly has occurred, as you said—no, unlike all humans who fear death yet think tomorrow will go on forever.”