It’s now a time when “late morning” fits better than “early morning.”
Because Park Gwangrim’s condition was far from good, breakfast was just a simple soup and bread, an omelet, salad......
“Mr. Sanghyun! W-wait! We can’t eat like that right now!”
At those words, Heo Sanghyun’s big eyes trembled at incredible speed.
“So your health really is that bad?”
“No, it’s just—at this hour it’s hard to eat anything......”
Honestly, I’d rather sleep than eat.
And again—Park Gwangrim is in no state to keep anything down.
In last night’s frenzy, the most “ordinary person” present, Park Gwangrim, had to overdose on Nirvana just to keep his sanity, and now he’s paying the price.
“Uuugh......”
After vomiting for a full thirty minutes, he’s finally sprawled on the living room sofa, groaning.
There are plenty of rooms upstairs, so I’d love to dump him on any bed, but if he suddenly drops dead out of sight...... Or if he starts thrashing alone and wedges himself behind a wall—we’d have no recourse.
“Grrrk— it’s sparkling......”
If that doesn’t settle, we’ll have to take him to a hospital.
“Right, so what you’ve brought out is more than enough for now. C’mon—okay?”
“Understood.”
Heo Sanghyun stops cooking with a pained face. I feel a bit guilty.
Maybe I should raise my Constitution next time, or hunt down an artifact that grants [Iron Stomach]?
“Mr. Mage, are you okay?”
Jang Hyundeok asks while chewing on a sweet, moist soft-set omelet.
“You’re okay?”
“I’m fine.”
So—fine, even with a hole in your head?
I did wipe his face with a damp towel, but there’s still dried blood crusted in his hair.
“Hey, quit smacking your lips. Lemme see that head.”
“Aw, my head. My head.”
“Yeah, let me look.”
“Ah, you’re talking like Yang Seho.”
“......”
The super miracle or magical whatever has worn off, so the golden crown is gone now—but folks, gather ’round! Look at this guy! He’s got a hole in his skull—no, in his head!
A neat little puncture just a finger segment above the earring on the rim of his ear.
No bleeding—but that’s worse somehow.
“Does it hurt?”
“Mm...... I don’t feel anything? Ah! If you press like that, of course it hurts!”
“So you do have sensation. That it?”
“Yup.”
“Not ‘yup.’ How ‘okay’ are you exactly?”
“Mm...... very?”
Yeah, not a useful question. If someone asked me if I was okay, I’d say I was, too—but by normal standards, I’m never okay.
My mind’s perma-fried, my hand is thoroughly ruined, mana stones come out of my body. Odds are my remaining lifespan isn’t that long either.
“Then can you tell me what exactly happened—start to finish—logically, with a proper throughline?”
“Ugh. That’s too hard.”
“What’s hard about it?”
Jang Hyundeok sneaks a look at me, then opens his mouth in a crawling little voice.
“I’m not good at telling things logically even on a normal day.”
I can only sigh.
“You don’t need a tidy arc—just tell me anything.”
Looking awkward, Jang Hyundeok scratches his head.
Dried flecks of blood fall from his hair to the floor.
“Honestly my memory keeps blacking out, so I don’t really know what happened.”
“You don’t need a tidy arc—say anything.”
He spoons a few more bites of omelet, then slowly starts.
“I’m pretty sure I heard Hyeonji’s voice.”
“What did Hyeonji say?”
“I think she said we should go save you, Mr. Mage.”
“Aha.”
“At one point I was flying with Red One, and then there were a ton of hands—and then it’s all patchy so I can’t be sure. The parts I do remember don’t feel real.”
He’s a medium.
When you’re moving while possessed, it can happen. I’ve had things feel like illusions when I was in delirium, too.
Hearing my explanation, Jang Hyundeok goes “Ah—” and nods, then pointlessly pokes at the salad with his fork.
A moment of silence.
The crunch of salad being chewed.
Silence again.
Suddenly he inhales and speaks.
“Mr. Mage. You know that grandma?”
“The Guardian of °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° Bongam Hall?”
“Yes.”
“You said it was a fake voice someone made to trick me, right?”
“Mhm.”
I was curious, but I didn’t want to hear this at the table. What little appetite I had gets evicted—down into the deepest Abyss.
“Mr. Mage. Hyeonji is dead, isn’t she?”
I wish I could pick an answer from a list.
In the span of a few seconds I generated about 256 plausible choices, threw them out, and answered honestly.
“Yeah.”
No—that’s not honest.
Hyeonji didn’t even get a chance to die. She just ceased.
She was recycled into a resource the abyssal beings can exploit—that’s worse than death.
Even with evocation or necromancy, there’s no calling Hyeonji’s soul.
“The grandma said I should just live. Not try to call the dead—just live.”
“She said that?”
“Yes. She asked me to tell Grandma Conqueror, too...... Um, will there be a chance to meet her?”
“Well, if I meet her, I’ll pass it on.”
“Thanks.”
“You look out of sorts.”
[screeeech]
The door of the barrier tucked in a basement corner swings open—and the Laughing One comes into view.
Cheongho’s form, half-warped.
“You tore off a part of me so boldly—can you repair this damage?”
Through our pact, the [Laughing One] had possessed one page of himself into my necro golem.
The problem is, the [Life Source] devoured that page, which was walking around in Cheongho’s form.
“I recovered some of it. Here.”
I return to the [Laughing One] Cheongho’s face fragment, the shards of the necro golem, and a mask with no openings but the mouth.
“Kh—”
He chuckles and flips the mask on.
Tzzzzzzzt—
Cheongho’s warped, drooping form slowly begins to restore.
“As I recall, you swore to take on the duty of protection together with the geas of obedience.”
“You’re the one who broke obedience first.”
The page of the [Laughing One] that obtained the [Soul Seal] in Buyeo overestimated its power—and attacked me.
Granted, it wasn’t remote-controlled, so it was unrelated to the [Laughing One]’s main body trapped in the barrier.
“From the memories left in the shards, looks like you engineered that.”
“Even so, broken is broken.”
“Hmph. Vile thing.”
The [Laughing One] grumbles in distaste.
“Not exactly compensation, but—take this first.”
Chajajajajajak!
I peel the deep-sea gold that formed the outer shell of the [Golden Hairpin] and toss it into the [Laughing One]’s barrier.
“Ho— hooooo!!”
[Deep-Sea Gold] itself bears the influence of the [Lord of Cloudy Waters].
And this particular gold is also infused with the [Life Source]’s power, plus a tremendous load of miasma soaked in when the Gate of the Abyss was opened.
For the [Laughing One], who yearns to become an abyssal being, it’s prime nourishment.
“Hmph, I suppose you weren’t expecting a thank-you?”
“No.”
Hearing my flat answer, the [Laughing One] quietly looks at my face.
His face is masked, too—a Cheongho wearing a mask.
I face him masked as well.
“What? What’s your problem?”
Unable to stand the silence, the [Laughing One] asks.
“Why am I.”
“Why?”
“Why am I in a bad mood over Cheongho?”
More precisely, over the situation of Cheongho dying. The fact of Cheongho’s death irritates me.
“Hm?”
“I don’t have any real relationship with that man. We never had a chance to share any special emotional exchange.”
Sure, he was a named NPC I met a ton in the game—so I had a built-in sense of familiarity when I saw his face.
But if that were the case, I should feel the same toward every named NPC in this world.
So why this especially strong emotional agitation for Cheongho?
And there are a few others who trigger feelings like this.
What’s the common thread between those people and Cheongho?
“You know, don’t you. You didn’t start wearing Cheongho’s form just to amuse me.”
“Hrm.”
“Out of skins? That’s not it. Handling the page you split from yourself, I learned this—humanoid skins you have in excess.”
“Khkhkh— the forms of humans who bargained with me.”
And of those who perished like Cheongho.
“Tell me.”
“Are you making a formal request?”
A formal request.
Meaning I’d wish upon him and swear to become his apostle.
From my perspective, a choice bordering on ruin.
“Then can you tell me the truth? No—do you even have the ability to?”
“Hmmm...... You’re being serious this time.”
“Talk.”
“Regrettably, that’s a wish I cannot grant. Your desire exceeds my ability.”
“Truly?”
“Annoying—but true.”
The [Laughing One] is a high intellect.
Benchmarked against abyssal beings, he’s small and weak—unfit even for the lowest seat—but compared to humans—compared to me—he’s far stronger and of higher rank.
If you want a similar-feel term—demon. Spirit king. Archangel?
A power some races would revere as a god.
If the [Living Flame] hadn’t been in the mood to help me, I wouldn’t have beaten him back then.
And yet there’s a wish he can’t grant?
<Why do I feel weird about Cheongho?>
It’s a question barely worthy of a newly pubescent teen—and he can’t answer?
He doesn’t know? Or lacks permission to answer?
“So it’s not just my mood.”
I wasn’t hoping for some reveal like “surprise, I have a secret taste for older men,” but I didn’t expect an answer like this.
“Correct.”
So it’s a matter at the level of abyssal beings, or thereabouts?
This feeling?
The [Laughing One] adds, with a meaningful quiet.
“And now I’m in a bad mood.”
“Why?”
“Take a guess.”
Ah, hell.
I understand what that means.
It really is that?
“Because of Jeong Hyuna?”
Obviously, not that the [Laughing One] is upset because of Jeong Hyuna.
He’s upset because he couldn’t grant my wish—and I’m upset because of Jeong Hyuna.
“If it’s Jeong Hyuna, Cheongho’s daughter. What did you two talk about? A bargain? A pact?”
“She asked me a favor.”
She asked me to save her dad.
But Cheongho is dead, and Jeong Hyuna went mad.
The [Laughing One] smiles.
Not that I saw the face under his mask; the mask itself—creaking—smiled.
“You accepted a wish that can’t be granted.”
“Why would I?”
“Why?”
“That’s why I’m in a bad mood, right?”
Because I failed a quest?
Sure, I’m a gamer—so if I end up with a quest I can never complete, I’d get pissed.
The [Laughing One], studying me, speaks in Cheongho’s voice.
“One day I will become an abyssal being.”
“Even a human?”
So even a human can do that?
“Normally, impossible.”
“Then?”
Khkhkhkh—
Hahahaha—
Laughter from somewhere.
“Look at me, Kim Sinhwa.”
The [Laughing One] points to himself.
“You know this much, surely? That I—a high intellect, a living grimoire, a tragic skull rolling in the dark, and the [Laughing One]—by what method I can become an abyssal being?”
By consuming things tied to the Abyss and assimilating them into himself, the [Laughing One] will one day become an abyssal being.
