“A video that exposes my internal organs, blood vessels, and bones in graphic detail.
Strange characters densely inscribed inside my body—on the surface of my bones—on the inside of my organs—on the inner walls of my blood vessels.
“Can you increase the resolution?”
I frowned, trying to read the characters more clearly. It wasn’t that they were too small to see.
“This is the maximum. To see more detail—”
“I refuse an endoscopy.”
“Uh—well, there is a more definitive method—”
“I refuse any procedure that requires cutting the skin.”
“Ah—then there’s no way to see in more detail.”
Lee Haseo pouted with a regretful expression. Isn’t their mood swings a bit extreme?
I looked at the video again, but I had to draw the same conclusion.
“It seems that what I said earlier is correct. This is a language created far before the history of humanity.”
“A language older than humanity...?”
Lee Haseo pressed both temples with their hands, wearing an expression as if struggling to recall something, then said,
“Come to think of it, I’ve seen similar shapes recently—could this be Hyperborea—or whatever they call it?”
Hyperborea. Or Ὑπερβορέα.
A fictional region said to have existed—or still exist—on Earth millions of years ago.
Of course, in [Cthulhu World] it’s not fictional. If you complete a complex prerequisite quest, you can actually visit.
“A place where the abyssal beings and their kin once reigned.”
But even within the absurd worldview of [Cthulhu World], that place is already forgotten.
The problem is that the characters etched into my body are from a language older than even that ancient kingdom.
“No. This predates Hyperborea. This is the language of the Elder Things.”
In terms of years, roughly one billion years ago.
Long before dinosaurs, before plants even bloomed their first flowers.
An ancient race that ruled this planet in such a distant past.
So distant that we don’t even know their name properly. Hence they are simply called the Elder Things.
That is the language they used.
Upon hearing my explanation, Lee Haseo looked briefly dazed, as if lost in some grand delusion.
“Uh—then—but why—how did such characters end up on me—?”
“That... I don’t know either.”
“Did you come from Andromeda—?”
“Let’s forget Andromeda for now and continue this conversation.”
“Uh— but you said it’s a billion years ago— a time when only unicellular life existed? Multicellular life only appeared around 900 million years ago—”
“Well, if you know about Hyperborea, you can gloss over trivial details like that.”
No amount of human scientific reasoning could handle this.
“Y-yes, of course— but the scale is just too— big—”
Then Lee Haseo clasped their hands together like a cultist in prayer, looking up at me with eyes shining with admiration, curiosity, wonder, and chronic madness.
“Ah—Mythos, you’re amazing. So, do you know what it says?”
“I wish I did, but I don’t.”
Strange glyphs and portentous patterns etched on my bones, organs, and blood vessels.
I recognized them as the Elder Things’ language only because I’d seen them a few times while playing [Cthulhu World]. I have neither the ability nor the knowledge to read that language.
‘And honestly, I’m not even sure it’s a proper language.’
Honestly, it’s just a cliché “ancient-language-looking” motif.
I figured the game developers decided those designs would represent the Elder Things’ language—but I never thought about how to read or interpret them.
“Hmm— that’s a shame—”
“It really is.”
What could it be? Why are these characters inscribed?
Could it be just a specification sheet detailing penalties or traits assigned to my body?
Or a ritual that imbues more mana than my stats allow? A spell to artificially induce madness in my head?
Or perhaps simply a mark to announce that I’m a feast offering.
‘But if future Kim Sinhwa went out of their way to show this to Lee Haseo, it must mean...’
There’s got to be more to it than a trivial explanation.
“How do you feel? Actually, those characters are the most strikingly unusual part, so I mentioned them first—but there are many other concerning details... Would you undergo further tests to get a more precise understanding?”
“...I suppose that’s necessary.”
“Then let’s start with the endoscopy—”
“Wait a moment.”
“Yes?”
“For now, let’s call it a day. I need some time to prepare myself.”
And Lee Haseo’s freely available time is running out. If we dawdle any longer, we might run into the on-duty staff.
“Ah, I see. That’s a pity. So, when shall we arrange our next appointment?”
“I have a few things I want to look into first. It’ll be difficult right away.”
There’s nothing more to learn by continually examining my physical structure, but regarding the Elder Things’ language—
‘There are a few hunches I’d like to verify.’
“I’ll contact you in a few days, then.”
“Then, may I research today’s video and the test records in the meantime?”
Hmm.
Is that acceptable?
No, the obsessive “safety first” approach yields nothing.
“Fine. But—”
“But?”
“I’d like you to make a few promises.”
“Promises?”
There was no function or event in the game that captured videos like this. So I can’t think of any way Lee Haseo could exploit photos of my internals.
Besides, Lee Haseo is a [steadfast ally].
‘But that doesn’t mean they’re entirely trustworthy.’
Of course they wouldn’t harm me immediately.
But—like Park Gwangrim, whose alliance disintegrated the moment payments stopped— I can’t fully trust Lee Haseo.
The moment they lose interest in me—they’ll betray me.
Therefore, I need guarantees beyond mere trust.
“Under no circumstances will you disclose this information to anyone other than me. Can you uphold that?”
“That much—of course.”
“Good. We have no time to waste. Let’s step outside to talk.”
“Then let’s seal the contract.”
Outside the hospital.
Once Lee Haseo and I reached a safe location, I activated a spell.
[Contract of Darkness]
Chwararararac—
A brilliant magic circle formed between my hands.
“Uh—what is this?”
“A magical contract. Disaster befalls anyone who breaks it.”
“How severe is the disaster?”
“The contract will judge. At the lowest level, you’ll go blind and deaf.”
And the more severe the betrayal, the more horrific the consequences.
Hearing my explanation, Lee Haseo’s eyes widened in surprise as they asked,
“Even if it’s against my will to have the information stolen, does that apply?”
“We’ll add an exception clause for that.”
We’ll refer to Lee Haseo as the “Second Party” and myself as the “First Party.”
The Second Party must exert their best effort and goodwill to fulfill the contract.
However, they are exempt from liability if any of the following occurs:
① Inability to perform the contract due to acts of God, attacks by supernatural ability users, hypnosis, mental manipulation, or other irresistible force beyond their will and capability.
② Excessively advanced hacking beyond scientific norms, occurring despite the Second Party’s full compliance with the First Party’s security requirements...
Blah blah—
By the way, Lee Haseo is twisted in values but highly intelligent. To strike a balance between their demands and mine, the contract had to be extremely lengthy.
“So, what do I get in return?”
“Let’s write that down too.”
The First Party promises that the Second Party will participate faithfully in all examinations and experiments requested. Barring special circumstances, once every—
“Make it every seven days—”
“Let’s compromise at thirty days.”
“Pfft, okay.”
And the First Party will pay the examination fee per session of...
“How much should ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ I give?”
“You don’t have to.”
“Then let’s say one million won each time.”
An amount of one million Korean won (₩1,000,000) will be provided.
“Oh! That’s generous—”
The completed contract materialized as a real sheet of paper and fell to the ground.
“What happens if this is damaged?”
“This is just a symbol. Even if it’s damaged, as long as the summoning mage lives, its effects remain.”
And that is the weakness of this contract. I, the summoning mage, can cancel it.
‘Of course, doing so would deal a terrible blow to my mind, stripping me of all magical abilities and leaving me an idiot.’
Perhaps that penalty is blocked by the [Abyssal Madness] trait.
‘I have no intention of ignoring the contract, but I’ve half cheated anyway.’
I handed the contract over, but Lee Haseo was so thrilled they teared up in delight.
“I’m so happy! We’ve created a secret just between us. I’ve always longed for a secret friend like this. I’ll cherish it forever—”
Lee Haseo’s reaction was wildly disproportionate. They even tried to put the paper in their mouth or lick it.
“Ugh, don’t eat it!”
“But to swallow and ingest it— making it part of my body would be the true—”
What kind of psycho are you?
As soon as I returned home, I went down to the basement and took something out.
IPE-21, [Scroll of the Ancients].
A thoroughly ancient relic that came into my possession as a reward for escaping the hospital.
Design Blueprint of the Ancients
Model No.: IPE-21
Alias: Scroll of the Ancients
Classification: Yellow Grade 3
A papyrus scroll covered with intricate diagrams and undecipherable ancient script. It measures 5.5 m in length and 0.33 m in width.
Its creation is estimated between 9,000 BCE and 1,000 BCE.
The document contains schematics of incredibly complex mechanical devices—far beyond the technological capability of any civilization of the time—rendered in various scripts presumed to represent different cultures.
Initially classified as an archaeological artifact (Green Grade) and slated for public release, a supernatural issue was discovered during interpretation.
Subjects who study this scroll for extended periods (requiring above-average intelligence) become obsessed with constructing the device depicted.
Test constructions have produced entirely different devices each time.
Some have demonstrated extremely dangerous effects, necessitating stringent safety measures for replication attempts.
See Appendix 2 for details on created devices.
“So it was made around 9,000 BCE, huh?”
After discussing a billion-year timescale with Lee Haseo, 9,000 BCE feels like yesterday.
So this is—
A blueprint that, influenced by the user’s Intelligence stat, mental state, and a bit of luck, produces a different artifact each time.
In other words, an artifact randomizer.
“Usually it makes junk or trash.”
But with an Intelligence stat around 20, it can produce a decent item, like [Madness Death Ray] or [Genetic Recombination Device]...
Gong Isu’s records mention some aptitude for mechanical engineering. Maybe Gong Isu slipped this in.
“Well... I’m curious what it’ll make now.”
What will it produce when used with an Intelligence stat of 30 and two madness traits?
“But I’ll save the roll for later—let’s see...”
I carefully unrolled the scroll.
Chwarurururur—
A musty smell unique to antiques and an extremely fragile-looking scroll unfurled.
It looked as though it would crumble at any moment, yet held together.
Perhaps protected by some mystical force?
“Hmm—I do see similar characters.”
Lee Haseo had said the Elder Things’ language inscribed in my body looked familiar.
Among the scroll’s many characters—only a few—there are definitely shapes similar to those on my body.
“It seems several languages from different eras are inscribed together...”
Right.
Now I understand why this was granted as a reward.
The blueprint’s crude randomizer ability isn’t the key. This is a kind of Rosetta Stone.
If I can decipher this scroll—
“I’ll be able to understand what’s written inside my body.”
