Chapter 146
Kim Taekjin took a deep breath.
“This is bullshit.”
Bullshit. An accurate expression. Then all the questions and answers so far were lies.
—
[It was a moment where I realized that when doubt stops being doubt and starts functioning as belief, what’s needed instead is even stronger doubt.]
—
If all of that was false, then the answer is…
Kim Taekjin approached the door and tapped it lightly with his finger.
“Every time we asked a question, there was a sound from behind the door. What do you think that is? If it’s a structure that opens with each question, we should’ve heard it opening.”
Among all the sounds we’d heard so far, there was no sound of it opening. Rather, it sounded like the door locking with a rattling noise.
“Was that line in the first place even true… that the answer is within the question?”
Lee Hoin, who had been silent for a while, muttered.
If every answer to our questions was wrong, then maybe the premise itself was wrong.
It was a highly plausible guess.
‘The answer is within the question.’
But every response we got was nonsense… nothing but wrong answers.
I thought for a moment. Now that we understood the mechanism, we needed to come up with another way to find the answer.
A prompt that induces questions, but every answer to those questions is false. The end is fixed, and asking more questions doesn’t seem to get us closer to solving it.
‘It’s like it’s telling us not to ask questions.’
If it doesn’t give answers, is restrictive, and the door won’t open… isn’t that basically telling us not to ask questions?
‘Don’t ask questions…’
Ah.
I lifted my head and looked at the door, then spoke.
“I will forfeit the remaining question attempts.”
At my words, both Lee Hoin and Kim Taekjin turned to look at me. The door, too, seemed to be looking at me as a window appeared.
—
[Do all participants agree?]
—
At that, Lee Hoin immediately spoke.
“Hey, isn’t that a bit extreme?”
In his attempt to stop me, I answered:
“If we’re not even getting proper answers, it’s better not to do it at all. There’s not much we can do anyway. Even if we break the door, we don’t know what might come out… and we don’t even know if it’s something we can break in the first place.”
The only one here who could break it was Lee Hoin. But if he exhausted himself here, then what? We couldn’t waste our maximum strength on something so uncertain.
And this had always been a problem with an answer.
Even if the “answers” were false, the “premise” itself could still be correct. If the premise were wrong, then we could confirm its truth through questions.
At least one of the two had to be true for there to be an answer.
‘Otherwise, there wouldn’t be any answer at all.’
And there had never been a cheap trick where the “answer” was that there was no answer.
No matter how much these things toyed with us, there was always at least one way to clear it.
I told you before… this ridiculous play isn’t for mindless slaughter. It’s to obtain a “story.” It’s all for the narrator’s amusement.
Anyway, there is an answer here.
“If the structure is such that the more we ask, the more it closes, then this might be the correct approach. If it opened through questions, then at least something should’ve changed after asking half of them.”
Kim Taekjin continued tapping the door, carefully examining it as if searching for holes.
“Doesn’t seem like there are any openings.”
He nodded, agreeing that trying something was better than nothing. Eventually, Lee Hoin sighed and let it go.
“I don’t know. I’m out.”
He stood up and drew his greatsword, as if preparing to respond to whatever might come out.
In the end, everyone agreed. I spoke once more.
“All participants agree. We forfeit the remaining question attempts.”
At that, another window appeared.
—
[Question forfeited.]
—
With a soft sssss, it disappeared, like ink dissolving in water. At that sight, Lee Hoin flinched and raised his greatsword, while Kim Taekjin stepped to the side.
A brief silence.
At the end of that silence…
Grrrrk…
With the sound of stone grinding, the door slowly opened.
The answer.
That was the answer.
—
[So the answer really was within the question. The answer was “do not ask questions.”]
[Wouldn’t this kind of wordplay drive many people to despair? If they used up all 25 questions without realizing anything.]
[Don’t you wonder what would’ve come out then?]
—
Whatever it was, we would’ve died.
Ignoring it, I shone my phone’s flashlight inside.
A vast cavern. And in the center stood a statue, as if a spotlight were shining only on it.
“Hey, I’ll go first.”
Lee Hoin moved forward, scanning the surroundings with his flashlight.
Inside the cavern, there was truly nothing besides the statue. As Lee Hoin tapped it and inspected it, he found a small box beneath it.
“This.”
Apparently hesitant to pick it up by hand, he used his greatsword to nudge the palm-sized box out onto the floor.
A wooden box about the size of an adult man’s palm.
After staring at it briefly, I picked it up and opened it. Lee Hoin reflexively reached out, then stopped with a sigh.
Inside the box was a small pill.
—
[Hunger-Suppressing Pill]
A pill that suppresses hunger.
—
In this labyrinth, various beings could be called monsters. Things that existed in the world of the “Starving One of Gluttony.” They were similar to the countless monsters in Hermadion.
When tens of thousands of worlds gather, naturally, there will be creatures that originally lived in those worlds. Of course, they had been modified.
Made more dangerous and violent. Creatures that couldn’t be controlled, that didn’t understand commands or speech.
Though, of course, there’s no such thing as “absolute.”
In Hermadion, since there was no “third party,” they were naturally enemies.
That’s how it was set up.
But here, there was one being that the “Starving One of Gluttony” had set to be somewhat friendly.
A giant tree.
A living tree.
‘Though it’s still violent.’
Like all monsters, it was violent, having been starved for a very long time.
‘Considering that even the “third party” in this world is the Starving One of Gluttony…’
There’s a high chance the world itself suffered from famine. Or it simply followed the nature of the “third party.”
In worlds on the brink of destruction, the biggest problem is usually the depletion of food.
So most dying worlds are plagued by hunger and famine. When the natural cycle stops, and the land itself dies, what else can happen?
‘At least Hermadion was frozen land to begin with.’
A land that couldn’t rely on fertile soil, so it developed ways to survive even on dead ground.
In every dying world, the regions that had endured the harshest conditions for centuries were the ones that survived the longest.
Anyway, creatures that suffered constant hunger would eat anything.
The Great Death Tree was the same.
A massive tree with dark crimson leaves, a black trunk, and an enormous body. Its leaves were like blades, and its branches like whips.
‘It was originally said to be closer to a gentle World Tree.’
But endless hunger and unbearable cold twisted everything.
The Great Death Tree, in particular, still retained intelligence… and suffered because of it.
It cried out for help. It wept apologies as it attacked.
Because it was hungry.
Because if it didn’t absorb the energy source in front of it, it had no idea when it would be able to store energy again.
A being that once gently embraced life with compassion… forced to fall and consume what it once protected just to survive… breaking down was only natural.
At that point, it might’ve been better to lose its sanity altogether.
What you could obtain from the Great Death Tree was something created back when its sanity was still intact.
The Great Death Tree’s fruit.
Eating it would greatly increase physical strength. And the more strength you had, the better.
It would also fully restore vitality and heal all wounds.
Sometimes, if you were lucky, your maximum vitality would increase by 1.
Just 1? It might seem small, but that single point could mean the difference between life and death.
‘To obtain the fruit, you have to calm it down.’
And to do that, you had to satisfy its hunger first.
That’s why this was needed.
A well-fed Great Death Tree maintained its gentle nature.
“Let’s go.”
Lee Hoin seemed quite disappointed that all of this effort had only yielded a single pill that wasn’t immediately useful.
But Kim Taekjin kept thinking deeply about the pill I was holding.
“Starving One… hunger…”
He muttered, as if tracing the connection between them.
‘…Should I help Kim Taekjin find his talent?’
I hadn’t really cared before, thinking we wouldn’t be seeing each other for long.
But if his talent awakened sooner, it would benefit us too. Regardless of how we obtain it, it would increase our strength.
At the very least, he wouldn’t fall behind as he did in the corridor earlier.
—
[Hmm, that slick human’s talent…]
—
Kim Taekjin’s talent was related to summoning and contracts.
Specifically, magic manifested through contracts with spirits… beings that only form pacts with pure souls.
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