Clank—
Clank—
Thud!
The Hungry Mansion’s attic.
The strange device installed in the window opening to the sky moves.
Gears rotating in perfect unison and pulleys running here and there across the ceiling.
‘No matter how much I examine it, it’s a device designed with irrational structure.’
Most of the gears aren’t connected to any others and spin idly, and at the ends of the busy pulleys nothing hangs.
Yet the device completed the necessary calculations without issue and output its results for me.
“Hmm...”
The night sky visible through the attic’s rooftop window.
Using the sinisterly glowing constellations studding that sky as tools, this entirely analog computer provides me with the information I need.
‘Five?’
One more star has found its place.
T’s Clock.
A device that guides game progression by displaying the time left until ruin.
‘Now there are four left.’
Including the five stars that have already returned to place, if all nine stars reclaim their positions—this world will perish.
“Normally they’d have done it the other way around.”
For player satisfaction and sense of purpose, wouldn’t they usually show you moving farther from doom as you succeed?
Usually games make players feel, “I’m winning,” right?
‘Well, this isn’t that kind of game.’
No matter what the player does, they cannot avert destruction.
This world will end.
Because that is the natural and correct state.
We merely believe our actions are right—struggle—defy nature’s course—delay the inevitable doom.
‘My role isn’t much different.’
Perhaps escaping this world is impossible. But that doesn’t mean I can stop and give up.
Gradually, events diverge from the game’s expected progression.
If such ripples accumulate—maybe I’ll find a way to break free from the destiny this game—or this world—has set.
“Hmm.”
I rose and moved away from T’s Clock.
Clack-clack-clack—
The attic’s contraptions return to their previous forms through complex, irrational processes.
Whirr—
A grotesque sound from a dark corner of the attic. I gesture that way and say,
“All right, it’s done. I won’t bother you anymore, so don’t tense up—come out, Squirm.”
Rrrr— tsk— slither—
A bizarre creature slowly crawls from the darkness.
Limbless, it wriggles along; the only motion it can muster is crawling, and it bows its head toward me.
Rrrr—
It was a minion of the [Predator in the Mountains], but I forcibly named it Squirm and turned it into my servant.
“Now you’ve become something I can no longer call an [Innards Snail], right?”
Its form is closer to a worm or snake than a snail—perhaps better called a legless salamander?
About thirty centimeters thick, and... the visible length already exceeds three meters.
I released its growth limit, once suppressed so it could inhabit human entrails, and fed it the poison-laced mana I extracted from Sangbulsa’s amphibian humans, causing it to grow this large.
“If you grow a bit more, instead of entering a human body...”
It might swallow a person whole.
‘I wonder how much more it will grow?’
Eventually it could become a true earth dragon.
It hasn’t reached that stage yet, but for now it can do what it can.
Rrrr!!
Squirm writhes in sudden alarm.
“Hmm, yes. I sensed it too, so don’t worry.”
Rrrr— tsk!!
“Don’t panic—come closer, it’s okay.”
Squirm follows my gesture, approaching slowly. Its skin feels slightly warm and soft—and with a strange smoothness unlike any other animal.
Shlurp—
It coils around me loosely, its eyeless, earless head reaching my face.
“All right, stay still. Focus.”
I press my forehead to Squirm’s sharklike brow, close my eyes, and attune to its consciousness.
“Yes—I see it.”
Rrrr—
Through Squirm’s senses, I perceive the entirety of Jangmyeongsan: the barrier’s condition, the movement of spirits, the flow of mana—and the group of problem solvers floundering to the south.
“They’re not much.”
A group approaching on rumors of ghosts on Jangmyeongsan. Six of them? Nothing special—
“All right, move the spirits gathered in the forest toward the south. That level of foe is no problem. Yes, good. The spirits’ movement will create a mana flow.”
Rrrr—
Having drunk the spirits from the Spirit Fragrance, the spirits are now completely friendly to me—and they obey Squirm’s request as readily as mine.
“Yes. That’s it. Yes. Don’t just drive them away—make those intruders pay.”
I don’t mean kill them. Squirm used the spirits and barrier to eject the foes, and in that process—
“They dropped decent gear? Tell the spirits to bring it to the mansion.”
Rrrr—
As the spirits dump the items at the mansion entrance, Dol-Dol-i rushes over and slurps them up.
They were low-level solvers, but the artifacts they carried were quite impressive. I’ll dismantle them later for materials or sell them.
“Yes. That’s it. Feel how the southern barrier feels more active? It’s artificially boosted now, but find a way to keep it that way permanently.”
I know an efficient method but won’t teach it—encourage Squirm to discover it itself.
Rrrr—
Squirm happily interacts with various spots on Jangmyeongsan.
I made the right choice trusting Squirm with this role.
“All right, have fun. I’ll come back later.”
Rrrr—
Since Seocheon-sle’s visit, the Hungry Mansion’s influence has expanded further. It’s now [Settlement Level 3].
The area I can control and manage now covers not just the yard and surrounding brush but the entire Jangmyeongsan.
‘At this point, I can’t manage everything myself.’
That’s why I entrusted barrier management around the mountain to Squirm. More precisely, I’m teaching it to do so itself. Fortunately, Squirm acquires knowledge at an astonishing rate and grows quickly. Once it levels up more, it might become the mountain’s own land spirit.
‘Once it’s more accustomed, it’ll run fully automatically without my intervention.’
With that thought, I descended to the living room and saw another figure working hard to learn something.
“How’s it going, Hyundeok?”
Jang Hyundeok looks at me in distress. He has a large talisman affixed to his forehead.
It looks comical, but it’s a talisman to enhance mana detection.
“Uh... I’m not sure.”
He lifts a hand to show me. Faint mana gathers at his fingertip.
“Hmm, you’re not without talent.”
“Oh, is this enough? Can I use magic now?”
“If you could cast magic freely in a day or two, everyone would be a mage—why would solvers bother with guns?”
“Ugh—this is harder than I thought.”
Hyundeok seems dissatisfied but it’s good progress. Considering how much Spirit Fragrance he’s consumed, this is expected.
‘Anyway, starting tomorrow I can teach him more properly.’
This area is brimming with yin energy and mana—once he gains understanding, he’ll grow fast.
“Keep practicing. We’re off duty today.”
“Oh, really? Then why are you grabbing your bag?”
“I have an appointment.”
“Hmm, interesting. Very interesting.”
“I wish I could share that interest.”
“Oh, don’t speak it out loud!”
“......”
Whirrrrr—
The MRI’s roar surrounds me as I lie cramped inside. I exhale softly.
Paju Central Hospital admits, isolates, and protects patients with supernatural issues or who might cause supernatural disasters.
Hence the extreme security and guards.
But—
I’ve already breached that security twice.
And this is the hospital’s south wing—not the sealed ward with concentrated security.
I Ha-seo described the south wing this way:
“There are only mundane machines here, so nobody cares much. I’ve used them secretly several times already—no worries.”
Compared to the closed ward full of monsters, normal X-ray and MRI machines must seem dull.
“What about surveillance cameras?”
“They’ll be recording the fake footage I set up.”
“What about guards or patrols?”
“They’re off duty for the next two hours.”
“Won’t there be usage logs for the machines?”
“I can swap those out too.”
She said all that, so it should be fine.
X-ray is done; only the MRI remains.
‘I’m uneasy. So uneasy.’
I Ha-seo was arranged by future Kim Sinhwa.
There’s no doubt she’s a skilled doctor. But as a ‘human’... honestly unstable and unsettling.
What does she need to confirm about my body, risking exposure to her?
The MRI finally stops, and I can hear I Ha-seo’s diagnosis.
“This is truly fascinating. You’ll be amazed!”
I Ha-seo’s face is flushed with excitement.
“Go on. Tell me this fascinating thing.”
Only then—
“But could we also do an endoscopy? If you’re reluctant about a colonoscopy, a gastroscopy is fine—”
“......”
Just a bit more—really, just a little more patience.
“If you first tell me the interesting part, then I can decide whether to undergo another test.”
“Oh—right. Once you hear it, you’ll want it!”
I can’t resist and step closer to her seat, peering at her monitor.
“How does it look?”
“Uh—too close! Please, step back a little—”
Blushing deeply, she inches away. What reaction is this?
“So, um—organ shapes aren’t drastically different—”
“‘Not drastically different’ implies there are some detailed differences.”
“Look here, here on this scan—”
The image shows bones, muscles, and organs moving under my skin.
And what it reveals is...
“This is... this is inside my body?”
Even I, ignorant of medicine, see a clear issue on the display.
“Yes, here and here, and here. These aren’t shadows—they’re intentional and meaningful—so—they’re—”
I Ha-seo, enthralled by the images of my organs, pants so heavily she can barely speak.
The areas she points to are...
Letters drawn or engraved on my organs and bones—
“It’s writing.”
“Yes! Exactly! There are letters.”
I run a hand through my hair and study the monitor.
‘I can’t read this script.’
But it’s not a completely unfamiliar language.
“Do you know—what language this is?”
Elation, wonder, and curiosity shine on I Ha-seo’s face. Were it not showing my body, I’d think it fascinating.
“It’s an ancient tongue.”
“Ancient? From which country—or which cultural sphere?”
A natural question, but off by an order of magnitude.
“No. It’s a language older than humanity.”
