Chapter 115
“Stop it!!”
—
[The boy had to acknowledge it. That he had become the master of this mansion. That everything in this mansion had become his, and that he had to see and hear everything. No matter how much he screamed, it would not reach anyone.]
[Even if it did reach them, they would ignore him.]
[Because their mission is to protect you.]
—
“U-ugh….”
—
[□□□□□?]
—
“Ugh….”
—
[In the end, it was all in the past. The boy did not realize that he was hearing things from the past.]
[To the boy, tomorrow was today, today was yesterday, and yesterday was tomorrow.]
[Please answer me, Master!]
[Overcome by extreme dizziness, the boy finally vomited.]
—
“Stop….”
—
[They say treasure is buried here, right?]
[This is insane, insane, insane!]
[It’s so dark I can’t tell what’s what.]
[□□□□□!]
[All kinds of noise flew at the boy without any sense of time.]
[Something’s strange. Here… something keeps… .]
[Even when the boy was asleep, when he could not act as the master, this loyal mansion endlessly received guests.]
—
“Sob, sob…. Father, Father….”
—
[For countless years.]
[It devoured countless guests.]
[The carpets were soaked with the blood of nameless visitors, the cutlery was filled with the screams of many, and the fireplace constantly emitted a foul, burnt stench.]
—
An unnamed calamity.
—
[The end of all that was that the mansion came to possess a will. Having swallowed countless items and countless guests, the mansion dared to speak to the “narrator.”]
[In truth, it seemed this one might be easier to communicate with than the “boy.”]
—
—You.
—
[However, even though the mansion had gained a will, it could not reach the rank of “—.” It was, after all, merely an item.]
[The prestige of all items was absorbed by their owner. In the end, it was the owner of the item who obtained status. Indeed… it should never have accepted a master.]
—
—Master.
Master, don’t cry.
—
[Because the mansion acknowledged the boy as its master and endlessly received guests, the boy was able to survive even in the form of a “spirit.” Unlike the previous master, who had died from failing to absorb nourishment.]
[The mansion, still possessing a primitive consciousness, did not know that this was the process by which “rank” was formed.]
—
—Don’t torment the master.
—
[Torment? This insignificant being keeps speaking. Perhaps because it is insignificant, it has no decorum, no manners, and no brain.]
[How long do you plan to keep crying?]
[In the end, there was only one who fit the required “rank.”]
—
“Ah, hic… ugh….”
—
[The one who had done nothing but cry for all that endless time.]
[Yet those actions amounted to nothing more than evil.]
[Ah, right.]
—
—Master.
It’s okay.
Don’t cry.
—
[You, who will forever remain a child.]
—
—I’ll protect you forever.
I promised.
I keep promises.
I protect the master.
—
[You, who merely inherited a single item well.]
—
“Stop….”
—
[You, who will forever be the master of this mansion.]
[The boy cried. And then he shouted.]
—
“I want to get out!”
—
[He shouted that he wanted to leave.]
[The “narrator” continued to speak to the boy.]
[This world has been destroyed!]
—
—I’ll protect your world too.
Don’t cry, master.
Don’t be sad.
But what is sadness?
They say if tears fall, it means you’re sad.
Master, are you sad?
—
[It was clear that the boy did not know.]
[Even if he left this mansion, the boy had nowhere to go.]
[Everything the boy had was contained here.]
[The life the boy had lived, the parents who made him who he was, those who cared for him, and even those who didn’t but lived under the same sky in their own ways.]
[That what this mansion had consumed was an entire world.]
—
—I protected it.
I made the master function.
“It wasn’t me!”
—Did I do well?
—
[The boy said that, but…]
[Though he was still young and didn’t understand, he now had to realize that everything he had enjoyed was merely the byproduct of his world being slowly devoured.]
[Everything he saw, heard, and breathed.]
[Was nothing but sin.]
—
“I didn’t do it!”
—
[Yet he enjoyed it.]
[Because he was alive, he enjoyed everything.]
—
“No!”
—
[Do you want to take everything back?]
—
—Stop it.
The master is in pain.
—
[The “narrator” asked not the mansion, but the boy.]
[The boy only answered again after a long time had passed.]
[Only after the mansion’s consciousness had grown beyond that of a five-year-old child did he stop standing there blankly and respond.]
[It was an unbearably slow answer. How much time had been wasted just to hear this one response?]
[The narrator chose not to count. Thus, the boy also could not count. “Time” was not something permitted to the boy.]
—
“—Yeong!”
At the rough hand grabbing my shoulder, my vision snapped back with a rattling sensation.
“Nam MuYeong!”
At some point, Lee Hoin was grabbing me and shouting. Below, that guy was still staring at me.
If earlier his face had the lively, stubborn expression typical of a child…
Now…
—
[It is empty.]
[Just like a doll!]
—
I almost blanked out again at that face.
What I had just seen…
‘Was that his memory?’
That guy… showed me his memory? Instead of a consultation?
Frowning, I held my spinning head.
What I had just seen was his past, and perhaps…
‘The process of a third party being born.’
Every moment was so simply violent that it made my head throb.
And then…
From far away, the sound of footsteps echoed.
Too human to be the statues, and too light to be Ernst.
People like us.
Their footsteps.
Lee Hoin reflexively turned his head.
“Hey… we gotta go.”
At his words, I also turned my gaze.
At the end of the corridor…
“They feel f***ing bad.”
They were armed with all kinds of weapons. With sloppy, loose expressions to match.
Standing tall in this massive passage, they stared at us… and then their expressions changed.
Soon, they chuckled and called out:
“Hey there, hello! Don’t be scared–how about we have a chat?”
More precisely, they were staring at what we were holding.
Even though they themselves were already loaded with all sorts of gear.
—
[Humans always crave more.]
[Or perhaps… Is it just for fun? Aren’t humans a species that hunts their own kind for ‘fun’?]
—
There seemed to be about four of them, smiling in a friendly manner.
“We’re not trying to fight. Everyone’s just trying to survive anyway, right? So…”
The sly-looking man in the center spoke with a greasy smile.
When you deal with people a few times in a world like this, you develop a sense.
Whether someone is crazy or not.
Lee Hoin drew his greatsword.
“Whoa, going in right away?”
Even as Lee Hoin took a stance with the massive blade, the man kept smiling.
—
[Did they eat something strange? Why are they smiling like that? It seems like they understand the situation perfectly.]
—
“We didn’t intend hostility, you know? But you acted hostile first, right?”
Another man holding a crossbow slowly loaded it.
The distance was too far for Lee Hoin to attack without closing in, but they could already aim from range.
‘The place is basically a straight line.’
There was nowhere to hide.
It was practically the same as meeting on a narrow bridge.
“Let’s calm down and resolve this through conversation. We all need to survive anyway—this kind of attrition is unnecessary. Let’s exchange information or supplies.”
A nicely packaged pile of nonsense.
When we didn’t show any sign of lowering our weapons, the man shrugged.
“Well, can’t be helped. That’s your choice, right?”
The greatsword lifted higher.
Even in the face of our threat, their group showed no tension, still calmly holding their loaded crossbows.
As if they would fire the moment Lee Hoin moved.
‘If only they had moved first.’
Then we could’ve treated it as an opening and charged immediately… but this cautious stance itself was the problem.
“Seriously, why do people insist on pointless fights? We have the advantage in numbers and compatibility. Is it really that hard to just exchange information and supplies?”
“Ha.”
I let out a long breath, staring at his slick, smiling face.
Bad physiognomy.
It’s best to avoid faces like that… ones that resemble a fish.
“Even now, would you be willing to have a peaceful negotiation on our terms? Just so you know, this guy here has skills related to shooting and aiming, so unnecessary bloodshed is quite likely.”
I watched his grinning face for a moment.
Then I smiled.
“Sure. Well, I’ll at least hear what kind of information and supplies you want to exchange.”
Perhaps he found my tone rude… his face stiffened for a moment, then smoothed out again.
“Well then. It’s very simple.”
With a relaxed, languid attitude, he said:
“Everything you’ve got, information and items.”
“And from us? Survival.”
It felt as if the rotten, fishy stench of a dead body spread throughout the corridor.
Amid that stench…
Only he stood there like a benevolent saint.
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