The moment the meal began.
I realized why Gong Isu had balked at the dinner invitation.
“Ah, this is really good.”
“Really?”
“No lie. First time I’ve eaten this—what a spread.”
Saying that, he—
Hm...
touched the food with his left hand—
[Left Hand of the Destroyer God]
Pachuzuzuzuz!!
In an instant the food disintegrated and was absorbed through the tips of Gong Isu’s fingers.
“Can you... taste it?”
“Kid, that’s rude. I know the way I ingest things can look alien—but I taste everything. Sweet yet salty—and the chew’s alive. Excellent flavor. Best I’ve had in a while.”
That was his verdict on pork jowl barbecue lacquered with a sweet sauce.
He’d said Chinese-style, and sure enough, proper Chinese dishes were laid out.
Sweet-and-sour pork done a bit differently from the usual.
“Wow, the dumplings are amazing.”
They prepared three kinds of dim sum... and a very greasy stir-fried noodle dish clearly meant for Jang Hyundeok.
Spicy eggplant that perfumes the air. A stir-fry using smoked duck... even I’ve never seen this one.
Ah, this has some unusual spices too.
But Chinese food, huh...
“It’s just an imitation. Honestly, I thought Gwangrim might come today.”
Sounds like while Park Gwangrim was staying here, he promised “next time I’ll make this and that.”
“Ah, I see. Park Gwangrim will be in the hospital for a while—but if he’s coming, I’ll let you know in advance.”
“Understood.”
While I talked with Heo Sanghyun—Jang Hyundeok spoke to Gong Isu.
“Um... Wizard’s senior...?”
“Gong Isu. When I worked as a fixer, I used the name Bubble Head.”
“Aha, so you’re a fixer senior! Then, that head—”
For an Ob or a Pani, head and body are connected.
So you could try to claim he’d somehow jammed a mask on—but Gong Isu’s head isn’t like that.
Above a body with no head—right now a large camera floats.
“Um—what’s the structure? Why is it floating?”
‘Good—something I wanted to ask too, and he asked it for me.’
Dealing with someone oblivious is never easy.
In that sense, Jang Hyundeok is top tier.
Well, how about it, Gong Isu!
“My head? Watch. I can do this, too.”
Whirrr—
The camera hovering where his head would be spins.
“Neat, right?”
“Yes! Really neat!”
“Give me some of those noodles.”
“Ah, here! I’ll dish some out for you.”
“Thanks.”
Is that it? That’s it?
“Neat, right?” “Yes!”—the end?
I finally opened my mouth and asked.
“Senior, what ability is that and how did you do it? It doesn’t feel like magic.”
“Yeah, it’s not magic. Oh—these pine mushrooms are excellent.”
“Thank you. Wild matsutake—gift from someone I know.”
“Ahh—makes sense.”
Hyeolhu sent truly incredible matsutake.
No, that’s not the point—
“If it’s not magic, then what is it?”
“You’ll find out with time.”
“How much time?”
“That depends on your choices.”
“Ugh—I hate kōan answers.”
“It’s not a kōan—hm, can you explain here how you learned magic?”
Mm. Nothing I can say.
“Huh?! Did the Wizard learn differently from me?”
“Ah? Hm... no. Similar to you.”
“Who taught you? Did you have a master too?”
Nnrgh...
I’ll just say something and move on.
“Mm—there’s some lunatic out there, and that crazy bastard forced me to learn magic. As a side effect my body got weaker—”
“Ah, so it really is similar to me.”
“...”
“So did the Wizard also, like you did to me, put something into your body?”
“Put what in?”
Gong Isu reacts to the weird part.
“Ah, I get it. You drilled a hole in his head? Are you out of your mind?”
“Ah, no, our Wizard is a bit out of his mind, but the hole in my head—well, that was an accident—”
“He’s defending you—Kid, say something.”
Ah, I’m going to lose it.
After we finished eating, Jang Hyundeok said he had an appointment and stepped out.
While Heo Sanghyun cleaned the kitchen—
Gong Isu and I set to work restoring the wrecked interior.
“Told you. Simple.”
“Honestly, it is impressive.”
Thanks to Gong Isu, the building’s big sections were fixed in no time.
Of course, the living room still had mountains of trash, fixtures dumped from the second floor, and the remains of smashed furniture.
“Guys, tidy up, please.”
I let out a short sigh and asked the necromantic golems to handle the cleanup.
“Ah, collect all those secretions.”
Strange fluids emitting a bluish glow were splashed everywhere in the manor.
The [Hounds of Tindalos]’ secretions.
“Kid, handle that carefully.”
“You heard him? Carefullyyy—”
Those secretions are a hazardous substance cataloged at Paju Central Hospital as [IPE-1786-4].
“There are lots of sealing-flask jars in the basement—put it in those. You and you. Go bring them all up.”
Kkiririririk—
‘If you drink it, you can get an ability.’
Strictly speaking, you lose your human body and become a monster called a [Denizen of Tindalos].
Naturally, I have no desire to end up like that.
But for me—someone who has to solve problems related to dimensional travel—it’ll be key research material.
Pow—click!
Gong Isu shoots the necromantic golems with his camera-head.
“Can you make prints too?”
“No. This head is just for high-precision observation and data analysis.”
“So the head’s form changes the ability?”
“Right. But I can only change it a set number of times per day.”
“From what I can tell, the material composing that head itself is unusual.”
“Why would you—? Ah, I see—this is something the me of now already told you, isn’t it?”
That peculiar word choice only time travelers use.
“So future Kim Sinhwa already knew?”
“Mm—yeah. The future Kim Sinhwa I met after leaving Paju Central Hospital knew. I stole this from the [Veil-Rending One]. It’s a metal that can store specific data. Idian calls it the [Wise Metal].”
“I see. Hm...”
But something’s off.
Not the head—Gong Isu’s concept of time is off.
Gong Isu who was at Paju Central Hospital (call him Gong-One) traveled to the future to check who I was.
But now that I’ve learned info about Gong Isu’s head—
then Gong Isu who resumes time travel and meets me for the first time in the future (Gong-Two—whatever point he meets future me)...
will face a future Kim Sinhwa who already knows about his head.
Uh—doesn’t that cause a time paradox?
Didn’t the future just change based on what I learned now?
Meaning the first future Kim Sinhwa Gong-Two met—
is the version of me who has already met the Gong Isu standing before me now (call him Gong-Three)?
What am I even saying?
It’s not that I’m confused—the premises conflict.
So it’s bogus.
A contradiction.
‘Then why did the Gong Isu who holed up again in Paju Central Hospital say the future disappeared?’
I couldn’t hold back and posed the question to the Gong Isu in front of me—
“So there are futures that change through time travel, and futures that don’t?”
“It matters to me, not to you. Not an important premise for you. Let it go.”
“What is this, seriously?”
As I grumbled, Gong Isu made the sound of adjusting a camera lens, then spoke.
“Mm, this is something I heard from Kim Sinhwa.”
“Future me?”
“Yeah. Future Kim Sinhwa. He said your madness operates in a somewhat contrived way, right?”
That’s true.
By the game’s rules, the madness in my head should be determined wholly at random.
But judging by everything so far—it hasn’t been.
I’ve even suspected the delirium’s manifestation is orchestrated in parts.
The most obvious case: the fear-of-13.
Back then my mind stat was low, with no alternate persona—yet I could somehow avoid the number 13 in daily life.
At the time things were chaotic, so I figured I handled it well—but really?
Why did it manifest in the single most dangerous moment, just because I found thirteen statues?
Isn’t that odd?
You could say thirteen people popping up on a road by chance could have triggered it.
“There’s a manager, right?”
Gong Isu tapped his head—well, the camera.
“No point breaking your head over rules and laws. Let it go.”
“Let it go?”
He set a hand on my shoulder and leaned in to whisper in my ear.
“Rules and exceptions—they’re all whatever he wants. The moment you’re sure a rule exists, he’ll shove an exception at you and drop you into a trap.”
Suddenly—
I pictured the pleased expression of some supra-real thing up high—and felt a hard-to-name disgust.
“Alright. Then let’s have a more serious talk.”
Once we’d wrapped up the manor cleanup—we headed down to the basement.
“You said you’d never seen Jang Hyundeok in that state.”
“Yeah.”
“What state did you see?”
“Which point in time should I use as the reference?”
Ah, that’s tricky too.
“I should’ve asked this first. Which iteration are you?”
Gong Isu looked at me silently for a moment, then said:
“Counting from when I met Kim Sinhwa—I turned time back three times.”
He met future Kim Sinhwa—did something—
for some reason went back to the past and changed the future.
Then he met a new Kim Sinhwa—did something—
back to the past again. And one more time.
This is the third.
“Why did you return? You treated Sanghyun like it was your first time seeing him. Did something happen after? What did you want to change?”
“The most recent Kim Sinhwa I met—”
Gong Isu slowly turned his gaze—no, his lens—at an odd angle and spoke languidly.
“Was the Kim Sinhwa who tried to escape this world with a thing called the golden hairpin, right after he half-destroyed Gyeonggi Province.”
“Pardon?”
“He definitely erased Paju, and Incheon turned into the sea.”
Gong Isu chuckled low for a moment and went on.
“The biggest problem was that the Great Bulwark collapsed.”
“After causing enough trouble to blow away Incheon and the Great Bulwark—was I alive?”
“Yeah. Not in one piece. After that, in a strangely modified magic wheelchair, for about half a year? We ran around together doing all sorts of things. Mouthy as ever—”
Gong Isu snickered, like he kind of missed it.
Catching the nuance in his voice and tone, I asked carefully:
“He died, didn’t he?”
Looks like the future Kim Sinhwa who was with Gong Isu lived about half a year and died.
“Right. That mask’s side effects are severe. I’d advise you not to use it if you can help it.”
I don’t intend to lean on it anyway.
The [Mask of Nine Lives] can pull the wearer back from death—but the side effects match the power.
“You don’t look surprised.”
“I figured as much.”
“How?”
“The dog.”
“The dog?”
“Yeah. If future Kim Sinhwa were fine, he wouldn’t have needed to ask present me to take the dog off him, right?”
And I wouldn’t have just handed over the [Night Veil Wing Cloak].
“Smart. So—you see which future I came to change?”
“Unfortunate. I thought I might get help—”
Now I see why the thing behind the message window sneered.
This Gong Isu came here to stop me from using the golden hairpin.
“Wait—whatever you’re imagining—I plan to use a different method—so don’t prep attack spells. I can see them.”
He said that, but I didn’t take down the constructed rite before asking:
“A different method?”
“You’ll do it even if I tell you not to, right? Because you’re a tenacious, horrific piece of trash.”
“Hm.”
“I’m here to teach you how to use the golden hairpin ‘properly.’”
Finally, something I like to hear.
“Before you use the golden hairpin, there’s a procedure you must follow. Skipping it is what caused the problem.”
“What is it?”
Gong Isu stepped close—voice laden with meaning.
“You summon an abyssal entity.”
