But the blazing anger that surged through me, hot enough to make my head ache, lasted only for a brief moment.
Emotional actions often lead to worse outcomes than rational decisions.
I’d almost lost my life once when I flew into a blind rage during the Drakel incident. Remembering that, I forcibly suppressed the bubbling heat and continued to think calmly.
‘In this situation, no matter how much I can see the contracts, it’s too dangerous to pass through this corridor. These contracts are forcibly imposed, even at the cost of one’s life. It’s not something I can avoid by simply flying over it.’
A closer examination of the red words scattered across the underground railway revealed that just passing near them—not directly touching—could still result in being bound by the contract.
This must have been designed for cases where someone tried to pass through on a vehicle.
Even if I avoided stepping on the ground with telekinesis, the possibility of being forcibly bound by the contract was still high.
And to make matters worse, if the inscriptions were damaged, they would restore themselves. Without the Eye of Contracts, I wouldn’t even know where the inscriptions were etched or what they said.
No wonder even the police force responsible for maintaining order in Night Haven struggled against a single demon bound by such contracts.
Sure, a powerful mage who could override the laws of contracts or an android immune to such bindings might have a chance, but...
‘From my standpoint, if someone like that shows up, I’d be completely sidelined. This is a race against time.’
If the police arrived, it would be game over.
While the situation was temporarily held in check, I needed to get inside and resolve this.
That meant thinking of an unconventional solution—one that only I might be able to come up with.
But how was I supposed to come up with such a method in such a short time?
As I racked my brain, I suddenly noticed something strange about the state of the inscriptions.
‘Those letters... aren’t they moving?’
I focused my Eye of Contracts on the walls, using the lingering effect in my right eye to observe the inscriptions carefully.
Sure enough, the densely etched letters were subtly moving.
Why are they moving?
I tilted my head, puzzled, until I realized that the movement was directed outward, from deeper inside the underground railway toward the outside.
And suddenly, I understood why.
‘Ah, so this is how the inscriptions were made. That’s what’s happening.’
When I thought about it, it made sense.
There was no way Ansar could have physically carved each inscription here one by one—there were just too many.
It was more reasonable to assume that the inscriptions expanded outward from the center, spreading like a ripple.
Of course, if you asked how that was possible, I wouldn’t have an answer.
‘Wait, so the inscriptions can move? If that’s the case...’
On a hunch, I cautiously extended my telekinetic energy toward one of the inscriptions that seemed relatively harmless and gave it a light tap.
To my surprise, something astonishing happened.
The contract, which should have caused an intense itching sensation upon contact, did nothing to me.
‘...Does this mean that touching it with telekinesis doesn’t count as direct contact?’
Gathering my thoughts, I pieced together all the clues I had so far:
The inscriptions, which seemed to spread outward rather than being carved; the lack of reaction to telekinesis; and my ability to see the contents of the contracts with the Eye of Contracts.
Could this be the way?
I carefully spread my telekinesis thin, like a sheet of plastic, and brought it close to the advancing inscriptions.
Then, something fascinating happened. The inscriptions began to creep onto the telekinesis, treating it as part of the railway.
As expected, the contracts didn’t attempt to repair themselves or retaliate. The inscriptions simply floated freely on the telekinetic surface.
It was exactly as I thought. I couldn’t help but smile.
‘So, this is it. This is a kind of automated, programmed magic, completely independent of the user’s will! That’s why it doesn’t recognize telekinesis. It’s a force that doesn’t exist in either Earth or this world!’
The forced contracts filling the underground railway were a formidable obstacle, no matter how I looked at it.
Without the Eye of Contracts, I wouldn’t even know where or what they said.
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Even with the Eye, touching them would result in immediate harm.
Magic could restore the inscriptions if damaged, and I couldn’t dig through the ground to bypass them since the railway was in the heart of the city.
But the person who designed this didn’t account for one thing:
The existence of telekinesis, which adheres to entirely different rules from this world.
Unable to recognize telekinesis, the contracts simply treated it as part of the railway. To me, it was as good as an unlocked door.
‘Well, it works out in my favor.’
Concentrating harder, I carefully pulled apart the inscriptions word by word with my telekinesis.
Then, I rearranged the scattered words into a new sentence.
Since I wasn’t physically or magically altering the inscriptions—just changing their arrangement—they didn’t attempt to restore themselves.
[The subject of this contract shall ignore any and all future contracts proposed by Ansar.]
The floating sentence now read as such.
Being a construct of the demon’s own power, the rewritten contract would naturally hold its own binding effect.
Confident in this, I grasped the floating words firmly with my hand.
As soon as I did, I felt a sensation akin to a connection snapping into place, much like when I tore a napkin earlier.
‘Did it work?’
To confirm, I reached out and touched another inscription on the wall.
As I expected, nothing happened.
The rewritten contract had taken full effect.
‘Seems like they didn’t prioritize security too much.’
After running a few more tests to ensure the contract’s ineffectiveness against me, I solidified my telekinetic platform beneath my feet and sprinted swiftly through the underground railway.
As I ventured deeper, the density of the inscriptions increased until they resembled a solid red tapestry rather than mere letters.
Thanks to the pre-established contract, I was able to push forward without any interference, even as the inscriptions thickened.
After winding through the tracks for what felt like an eternity, I finally arrived at a station where the train could stop.
The place was eerily silent, devoid of any human presence.
‘This must be it. Libra Station.’
When I stepped into the station, the sight before me made my breath catch in my throat, and I frowned instinctively.
The area, which appeared to be the epicenter of the incident, was so densely packed with inscriptions that the floors, walls, and ceilings were completely drenched in vivid red.
Knowing that each of these letters was imbued with magic, I couldn’t help but be stunned by the absurd amount of energy required to create such a scene.
‘There.’
Despite the overwhelming display, finding my destination wasn’t difficult. By following the gradient from lighter to denser inscriptions, I inevitably reached the heart of it all.
As I approached cautiously, prepared for any sudden attacks, I soon spotted Ansar in the distance.
‘...This is too much.’
What I saw left me in stunned silence.
Standing still on the tracks, her eyes closed as if in prayer, Ansar’s form was hauntingly serene.
From the corners of her closed eyes, something red—like tears of blood—flowed endlessly.
The inscriptions filling the underground railway were pouring out from her, running down her body and pooling on the ground.
Approaching through the flowing letters, I reached Ansar and was struck by the grotesque unreality of the scene.
Up close, I saw that she wasn’t moving at all, as if she were a lifeless doll.
Her chest was grotesquely torn open, revealing a silvery fragment embedded deep inside.
‘This is... a shard. And it’s far more powerful than the one Raven had before.’
The horrifying situation hit me like a blow to the head.
At that moment, I realized how naive I had been.
Resolving misunderstandings with the police? Resisting Invader brainwashing?
How foolish I was to think that the people seeking the world’s destruction would settle for half-measures.
By forcibly drawing on the shard’s power to push beyond her limits and abandoning her to burn out, they’d turned Ansar into nothing more than fuel.
In this state, there was no way to save her.
She wasn’t even herself anymore—just a puppet carrying out her last orders.
Even if I poured restorative magic powerful enough to heal her shattered body, her soul was likely too damaged to return.
"..."
I reached out and touched Ansar’s face.
What I felt was the cold, lifeless sensation of a corpse.
It was a cruel truth, but I didn’t feel overwhelming grief.
After all, she was someone I’d only met today.
In Night Haven, death was so common that there was no time to mourn every tragedy.
But that didn’t mean I felt nothing.
It was just... deeply regrettable. She didn’t deserve to be treated so mercilessly.
So I clasped her hand, bowing my head in prayer for her.
At the very least, I hoped her soul could find peace.
‘Let’s end her suffering here. It’s the least I can do for her.’
Suppressing the sorrow bubbling within me, I reached toward the shard embedded in her chest.
The massive energy emanating from the shard was what kept her in this state. By severing the connection, I would put an end to this chaos.
And as my hand touched the shard, an overwhelming surge of energy and alien memories flooded my mind, traveling up my arm and into my head.
The memories belonged to none other than Ansar.