I leapt down toward where Heo Sanghyun stood, carrying the still-unconscious Jang Hyundeok.
“Sin hwa-nim.”
“How is Sanghyun-ssi’s body?”
“I’m fine now. Aunt really turned the mansion upside down.”
The windows were shattered, part of the exterior wall and roof had collapsed.
Furniture lay smashed, thorned vines burst up through the courtyard floor, discarded spider carcasses, piles of ash like mountains, pits clawed by wraiths, and so on...
“Ugh, this headache.”
Surveying the wreckage, I sighed. Where to even start? I really want to just give up everything.
“Well, can’t be helped.”
Who to blame? It’s all my fault, after all. I shook my head and said to Heo Sanghyun,
“Please start cleaning up. You can’t do it alone, so I’ll hand you control of a few necro golems for now.”
I hate the feeling of puppeteering, whether dolls or golems.
“Understood.”
I relaxed as Sanghyun took over the cleanup. My eyes grew heavy—had it really been almost thirty hours since I last slept?
My body was already exhausted.
If I don’t rest soon, I might die of fatigue before any Kim Sinhwa summit ever convenes.
“I’m sorry to say this after setting you to work, but I need a nap. Too much happened today.”
“Sleep well.”
A white space filled with misty fog.
My own voice echoed inside it.
“I think we should stop talking about that creature.”
“Okay, okay. Fine, I’ll drop it.”
My voice answered itself—both my own voice, yet not words spoken from my lips.
“Hmm.”
I cleared my throat. As in many dreams, it took a moment to realize I was dreaming.
“Sorry, but could you start over and tell me what we were discussing from the beginning?”
“...Huh? What’s this brat saying now?”
“...I think Sinhwa has only just come to his senses.”
“Then what were we talking about until now?”
“You probably don’t remember.”
“Ah, damn it! Cut it out! I’m not doing this anymore!”
They were the two people I’d met last time. If I must distinguish them...
“Calm down. Remember why we decided to meet and talk at all.”
The composed Kim Sinhwa who controlled the necro golems.
“Ha! You already forgot more than half of our last talk, didn’t you? You’ll forget again!”
The hot-headed Kim Sinhwa who controlled Akanga.
“And me.”
Three of us, then.
I regarded the two Sinhwas standing before me and spoke.
“By the way, you both look different from last time?”
Last time they’d appeared as hazy shadow-forms.
Now they had distinct bodies and personalities.
“To us, your form looks pretty different too.”
“Different? How do I look?”
“Must we restart from that? You look like a homunculus we were fighting earlier.”
Ugh—I thought so. The Akanga-controller wore a fox mask; the golem-controller a crow mask.
So I must be wearing the three-eyed mask.
“It’s probably because the homunculi were so memorable. Don’t read too much into these forms. Next time we’ll likely take yet another shape.”
“Right! Forget everything else—let’s talk about that!”
The fox-masked Sinhwa spoke in a menacing tone.
“That?”
“Yeah, that! Stop making homunculi or whatever!”
Of course they’d bring this up. I recalled possible homunculus strategies, then replied.
“Hm—should I not make them? I thought it was a sound strategy.”
“What? You idiot!”
“But we did it in the game, right? I checked side effects—they were acceptable.”
“Ah, if I say it in person you get the gist!”
“What gist? I need a proper explanation for you to understand.”
The fox mask could not contain itself and barked, but the crow mask intervened to restore order.
“True. We did something similar in the game, so it wasn’t a wholly bad plan. The problem is the situation we face.”
“Problem?”
“Honestly, even you must’ve realized—you didn’t need to make them look so much like you.”
So appearance was the issue?
“Hm. True. But imitation makes them more versatile—”
“You’re being controlled. Got it?”
The fox mask jabbed a finger. Was that really my personality? I realized I’d snapped at Hyundeok similarly. Sorry, Hyundeok.
“Controlled?”
“Yes—puppeteered! The other voices in your head controlled you into making them. You made them without knowing.”
A sigh escaped me.
I sighed and said to the fox mask,
“If you keep talking like that it won’t advance the discussion. Start from the beginning and speak clearly, you blockhead.”
“You blockheaded bastard, seriously!”
The fox mask charged as if to grab my collar.
“Stop it! You idiots!”
Only when the crow mask shouted too did they finally calm down.
“I’ll explain, so don’t interrupt.”
“Hmph, suit yourself.”
“Anyway, Sinhwa, listen well. Our plan succeeded only halfway. You know that already, right?”
“Roughly. Treating the phobia didn’t heal everything cleanly, it seems.”
I’d thought resolving hematophobia would mend my fractured mind, but seeing these Sinhwas before me proved that phobia treatment alone wasn’t enough.
“Right. Like amnesia not fully cured, our split consciousnesses won’t rejoin.”
“Instead, the one who took on your blood-fear frenzy and stress—he’s quieted down a bit.”
Thus half a success.
Curing the phobia itself was a correct move.
But the mind fracture seems independent of the phobia.
“Quieted, not gone.”
“And unlike before, he now has clear goals and desires.”
“In a way, he’s more dangerous than before.”
“We think you’ve changed through some experiences... or that another persona sharing his thoughts has formed.”
“Another persona?”
They never stop.
“Yes—another persona. Giving them individual traits isn’t great, but we must name them soon.”
“Let’s call them the Domination Faction.”
“Domination Faction?”
“Right. We’re the Union Faction who want to merge with you.”
Childish name but intuitive.
“So in your head the Union Faction and Domination Faction are fighting? Mad how that works.”
“Heh, not done yet. Like I said, the Domination Faction’s quiet lately.”
“...What else is there?”
My body is one, so why are there so many Sinhwas?
“They want to escape your body and have independent personas.”
“New ones formed when you developed doll phobia.”
Them.
Are there many of them too?
Assuming two each, there’d be six additional Sinhwas inside me.
‘Six—what a coincidental number.’
Same number as the fake Sinhwas I asked Park Gwangrim to make.
It didn’t have to be six... maybe an unconscious manifestation.
“Well, if we must name them, call them the Escape Faction.”
“Escape how?”
“You invented the escape method.”
The fox mask had told me to stop making homunculi.
Escape by using a homunculus body to flee my own mind?
“Oh. Is that actually possible?”
“You did something similar before.”
I’d cast magic to send Akanga’s and the golems’ consciousnesses remote.
“But that was just remote control.”
This is about splitting the soul into a fully separate entity.
“Hm. You’re right—not fundamentally divided before.”
“We think it’s impossible, but they think it’s possible.”
“I read a passage in Dream-Mist Glimmer Mirror hinting at the method.”
“In short, you perfectly clone the body and split your soul into it.”
Going mad reading grimoires sounds exactly like this.
“What happens then?”
“Now everyone accepts you as ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) the real Sinhwa. But then they’ll try to kill you.”
“Kill me?”
“Yes. Only then can they be the real one.”
The fox mask spoke seriously.
“Who’d want to be a replica? We chose to merge with you to become the ‘real’ one.”
“In that sense, the Domination Faction wants to be real by ruling your body for you.”
Hearing this, their friendly guise felt chilling.
If—
If there’s truly no way to merge, what choice will they make?
“Why has it come to this?”
I no longer care about mind splits.
The question is why doll phobia spawned personas seeking escape.
“Not sure exactly, but I can guess. Phobia and obsession aren’t strictly distinct.”
“You know the feeling—repelled and yet drawn to look again.”
“You can become obsessed or fascinated beyond fear.”
So...
“The doll phobia acts like an obsession?”
Crazy people wanting to become dolls or insert souls into dolls—an old horror cliché.
And part of my persona has become that lunatic.
“Well, not certain.”
“But probably right? You looked insane making homunculi.”
“...Anyway, best not touch homunculi for now.”
“Hmph, I wouldn’t be so sure.”
The fox mask replied sharply.
“Why?”
“Because it’s a continuation of madness.”
“Whenever you’re swayed by any phobia or obsession, other personas can more easily intervene in your actions or thoughts.”
“So all this talk about dolls and you kept making dolls or doing weird stuff you knew was dangerous.”
“Ah, damn. Then what do we do?”
“Honestly, I don’t know. But we must gather as much information as possible to find a countermeasure.”
“Perhaps the Banquet Sacrifice locked in Paju Central Hospital’s closed ward knows something?”
“Chances are they’re our senior.”
True, but not a full answer.
Paju Central’s closed ward holds the mentally unstable.
“They won’t be in a state for conversation, I think.”
“I agree. But we have to try.”
“Ugh.”
As I groaned, the fox mask smirked.
“First thing when you wake—find a way to deal with that elephant bastard.”
Elephant bastard.
Not the one with the elephant head priest.
The Predatory Dweller usually manifests as a huge elephant-headed monster.
The priest likely mimicked that form.
The crow mask spoke seriously.
“Right. The Predatory Dweller probably...”
I awoke from the dream.
My memory still hazy, but I roughly guessed what he intended to say.
“Right. He’ll probably show up again soon.”
And we—or rather I—will likely be prevented from meeting the other Banquet Sacrifice at Paju Central.
Lying in bed, I thought of ways to counter his attack.
A few methods came to mind. I’m not sure how effective, but they won’t take long to prepare.
“So... time to finally head to the hospital I’ve been delaying.”
