Words of Apology
"Hah... huff..."
I leaned against the emergency stair railing, catching my breath. Why the hell was Gumiri here? Had she come all this way looking for me? Or was it just a coincidence?
No. It couldn't be a coincidence.
The head of the Bastards' Korean branch showing up on Argo meant she had a purpose. She wouldn't come here without one.
Right after the terrorist attack, just before the engagement duel. Of all times, sneaking in when security was at its tightest.
I knew her well. Half my soul remembered her from the gamer's memories. The other half, from the delinquent boy's.
"Gotta run."
Running into her at this timing in a crowded department store meant she'd come to see her childhood friend—me.
"Why now, and in a place swarming with people...!"
In the original flow of Ancestors, Please Protect Us, the Bastards were supposed to ally with the terrorists and attack Argo. My schemes had thrown that off, so the future might differ from the game scenario, but they were still a threat.
Especially Gumiri. She was someone to watch out for.
The memory of fighting her in the game flashed in my mind. Not just the insane boss difficulty, but the over-the-top cutscenes meant to hype her power—they'd nearly driven me mad.
And above all—
-Screeeech...
From the corner of the ceiling—the square edge—grotesque monsters with clusters of eyeless eyeballs began sprouting.
"Hounds of Tindalos..."
Proof that her Reverse Ethics Armament, Kitab al-Azif, was already devouring the building.
-Clack, clack.
"She's already this close."
Footsteps from upstairs. I bolted down to basement level 2, grabbing the handle to the parking lot exit.
-Click! It wouldn't open.
"Passepartout!"
-Tsskt!
I activated Spirit Lord Transformation with my cane, twisting it left in front of the door, but nothing.
"Why?!"
-Click, click!
I tried Spirit Descent to force it open, but no dice. The department store's relic, installed to stop Shangju crimes, had reinforced the lock.
A well of hell where all impurities gathered. Monsters erupted from the emergency stairs everywhere, howling like they'd been scraped from its depths.
Cursed noises fit for a rainy night, digging rusty shovels into gravel-mixed graveyard mud to desecrate the dead. Eyeless mutants crawling the walls, small elephant-like horrors with multiple tusks hot on my heels.
"Damn it..."
If Gemma were here, I could've escaped farther.
"Of all days!"
I couldn't outrun Gumiri. As long as she wanted to see me, we'd cross paths—it was inevitable.
I'd fled from the department store crowds for their safety.
"Not yet. Gotta go deeper—"
The intensifying buzz of the gab's wings signaled growing threat.
Kitab al-Azif was a grimoire that utterly crushed H.P. Lovecraft's soul—the pioneer of cosmic horror, the genre of inescapable dread—and bound it in a book. Its power wasn't just summoning monsters that drove viewers to fatal madness at the caster's whim.
Its true strength lay in manifesting the horrifying forms of those who've experienced Reverse Ethics Armaments, drawing directly from their knowledge and memories.
An infinite vicious cycle: survive one encounter as enemies, suffer worse next time.
That was why Gumiri was the trickiest foe among many.
And even without making her an enemy, she was tormenting me now.
I'd played Ancestors, Please Protect Us dozens of times, seen the abominations she spawned.
Yes. I knew her powers better than anyone in this world.
Which meant staying near her would summon Cthulhu Mythos horrors from my knowledge.
Stray too close to innocents, and that knowledge became a time bomb, unleashing catastrophe.
-Thud!
I pressed my back to the door, covering my eyes to block the emerging horrors.
A stench like concentrated bat guano. Vomit reflux burning my throat. Unholy names from all sides turned the air into irregular vibrations squeezing my skin.
Even unseen, apocalyptic trumpets assaulted my optic nerves. Six eyes of a light-filled angel. The pleading damned numbered 1,740. Ah! Trumpets burning with light! The dancer's fangs rising from waves! Fear rotting brain cells, cycling through veins, heart pounding faster, irrationality pushing fingertips, hands moving on their own!
"Ugh... ughaaah!"
Fingers pried my eyelids open against my will. Nails dug toward my eyeballs; shattered reason barely held them back.
-Clack, clack.
Approaching footsteps. A clear voice echoed through the stairs.
"In a word, we are all neighbors. Living in the same hole, gazing at the same garden grass."
Her feather-light voice, flashing with the gleam of wisdom, pierced me.
"Familiar things connecting us. Hailstones, floods, lightning splitting with flashes, August skies, dawn's serenity, alluring women, boys like angels, unshakable men, the mad misunderstandings encircling each other."
Gumiri's voice drew nearer.
"We exist because of neighbors. Without them, we don't exist, can't exist. Neighbors are eternal. They see through everything. We are all neighbors. The neighbors of our neighbors beside us. So we know more than we should about each other. Nothing can be hidden."
A delusion she spoke directly to my mind.
"Love and pain, good and evil, victory and defeat. No matter what happens, we must face each other. Neighbors demand freedom. They know everything about you yet remain ignorant of themselves. That's why neighbors feel alien. They restrict, obstruct. Neighbors are yokes and fences."
The grimoire's madness began eroding me.
"One=One Countess's gaze—down the Danube, Esterhazy Peter mid"
Eyes snapping open at the enlightening voice inches away, I saw an unbelievably beautiful girl smiling softly at me—not of this world.
"A line from a book I've been enjoying lately."
Her voice, like distilled sweetness from all the world's delights, fluffy and enveloping. Each Hangul letter wrapping my lower body.
"That blank smile when you hear about unknown books—same as always."
Sinister pleasure seeping into my eardrums. Every nerve chasing the touch of her hand on my cheek.
"I wanted to see you. Really."
Reason sank in that short sentence. Legs buckled, knees folding on their own. Collapsing to the floor, my body convulsed beyond my will.
I blacked out without realizing.
* * *
Moments later.
I woke safely, walking the first floor of the department store with Gumiri.
The monsters born from my memories and fears had vanished when I fainted, she said. No harm to the people milling (now frozen still) through Macy's & Logan.
"Hm, not a bad call. No idea when you learned about my Reverse Ethics Armament."
Who knew so many kids would bolt like that. Gumiri pouted, turning to me.
"But running off without a word? You should've thought how that'd hurt me."
"Still, the other people..."
"Your soft side's the same. Relieved."
Her pout melted into a playful grin. Teasing me, probably.
"You've gotten considerate too. Maybe as sweet as me."
I said, and she flashed her signature blank, cozy smile.
"Am I sweet? Not sure. But if I'm sweet enough to be called that, this era lacks kindness. I'll admit that."
The face of the only moving girl in this halted world. Every curve of her features captivated my eyes.
The world wasn't just stopped. Quachil Uttaus, Twilight Walker. One of hundreds of pages in Kitab al-Azif, summoning a wicked fictional entity from a Great Old One chapter of immense power.
Above us, a small, shriveled mummy from Gumiri's imagination flapped its bandages in midair. It controlled time—that's why everything else in the store but us was frozen.
Well, an outsider might think time halted itself to admire her beauty, not her stopping it.
Recognizing the grimoire's bearer rapidly eroded mental strength, birthing monsters from induced terror. She'd summoned the Twilight Walker to minimize needless casualties from her mere presence—a walking disaster—in central Argo.
I was grateful for her kindness. And that she hadn't come to harm anyone.
"No need to go this far just to see me."
"Oh? Prefer I send lackeys to kidnap you, Taeyang?"
"Not exactly. Worried about your health—"
No lie. She could barely walk since earlier.
"Cough."
Mid-sentence, Gumiri stumbled in front of the jewelry store, collapsing into me.
-Plop.
"Ahh."
Like a doll, she fell limply into my arms, gazing up with moist eyes.
"You'd freak if people got hurt, so I pushed myself. Your fault. A big one."
Your fault. A big one.
Her voice melted like glucose candy on my tongue, tracing figure-eights through my veins endlessly.
"Thanks. For coming like this."
"If you're thankful, take responsibility."
"What do you want me to do?"
"What do you want to do?"
"......"
Her question struck vital points; I couldn't recover.
One more hit, and morals be damned—I'd give in. Feigning calm, I touched her flushed face.
She'd been flashing seductive smiles, casually dropping provocative words, but her forehead burned with fever.
Even in limited space, stopping time was miraculous. Summoning the Twilight Walker drained massive spirit power—inevitable. Filling gaps with the grimoire's stored terror helped, but her body bore the burden.
For this flu-ridden woman, it was worse.
"Dunno. If the store weren't stopped, we'd grab tea."
Realizing time was short, I sat her on a nearby bench, catching up.
About our other childhood friend Yukjeom, the orphanage. The suicidal director, the kids Bastards saved—updates.
Even with game memories of crushing her as a mighty foe, unavoidable. Half my soul bore Gumiri as a friend from childhood, sharing everything.
"Sorry. Prior engagement or I'd chat more."
Her face paling beyond endurance, I had to end it.
"It's fine. We'll see each other soon anyway."
"What?"
"Next time, be my accomplice. I'll share my secret."
Leaving cryptic words, she rose with a satisfied smile.
"What do you—"
A slender finger pressed my upper and lower lips, silencing me. Then hers, same way.
"Shh."
Why did her smile mix pity and regret?
"Apologizing in advance. If I don't, my heart might break."
Sorry for ruining your fun school life.
-Tick.
Clock hands mixed in her voice, and suddenly I was alone.
-Murmur, murmur.
People bustled past the luxury shops again. Time flowed normally, but Gumiri was gone.
"What are you plotting?"
Her apology echoed endlessly in my head.