In This Seemingly Empty Darkness, Only Lobelia Yuris Caught My Eye
In that darkness, which seemed to hold nothing at all, only Lobelia Yuris entered my sight. And that Lobelia Yuris looked at me and asked.
"Why are you Lobelia Yuris?"
My thoughts froze. I'm Lobelia Yuris. At least right now, I'm the owner of this body.
Shrinking back from her somewhat eerie expression, I racked my brain for what to say. But right now, I'm Lobelia. Lobelia Yuris. Yet the woman before me was something else entirely—not me. Which made me wonder if she was the real Lobelia Yuris. It was ridiculous, really—like the owner of the body being confronted by its current inhabitant claiming ownership.
Her snow-white skin, black hair, and ominous red eyes turned toward me. Her skin was even paler than what I'd seen in the mirror, her gaze radiating an even stronger sense of foreboding. As I stared at her in a daze, her lips moved.
"Are you suffering?"
I was. Terribly so. Humans terrified me, and everything the hero did to me was pure agony.
"Then I'll kill them for you."
How? If you could have, why didn't you just do it from the start? Then I wouldn't have had to endure all this torment.
Even as those thoughts swirled, an ominous premonition kept me from nodding eagerly. As my hesitation deepened, the corners of Lobelia's mouth curved upward.
"Just give it back. My body."
Wait, what?
"It's mine to begin with. You're possessing Lobelia's body but trying to live your own life, not hers."
But if I hand it over, that's as good as dying. I want revenge, sure, but not at the cost of my life. And that's only natural. I'm not originally Lobelia—I'm Min Siyoon. Min Siyoon from Earth, South Korea, wandering construction sites. So of course I can't live like Lobelia.
"You couldn't do anything anyway."
How do you know? I'm doing my best in my own way. I even tried with a fork once. It failed, of course. And that's why I'm in this mess.
As I wrestled with my turmoil, wearing a subtle expression, Lobelia Yuris's lips finally turned downward in a mocking smile at my efforts. Her words followed, as if ridiculing me.
"Lobelia Yuris has mana deficiency.*"
"Give it back, give it back, give it back. Give it back."
"Gasp... gasp."
My entire body was drenched in cold sweat, as if I'd had a nightmare. No, it was a nightmare. I'd faced the true owner of this body—her. The hallucinated plea to return it still echoed in my ears, burrowing deep into my mind like it was my own thought.
Please, get out of my head. I don't want to think about anything. I have no intention of giving it back. Or... do I? Because it's not my body? But then what's the point of all the hell I've been through? If I'm just going to brush past it and die again, why do I have to suffer like this?
My head throbbed. The pain twisted my face, making it impossible to open my eyes properly.
"All those humans are fools. Not a single one thinks straight. Yeah, let's just kill them all. But how?"
"Give me back my body."
No. I refuse. Please, just leave me alone.
"...Are you okay?"
A man's voice cut through. The hero. Dark hair blending into navy hues. The way it swayed proved he wasn't some street rat. And those brilliant blue eyes sparkling amid it all. The moment they met mine, terror surged through me. My eyes widened, and I scrambled backward.
"Aaah!"
Crash. I'd been up high—my body tumbled to the floor.
Why can't you two just let me live? Hero, Lobelia—save me. I'm going insane.
"Wh-what the hell."
The hero's voice rang out. I didn't want to hear it. I bolted to the corner. Unfamiliar building or not, corners were everywhere. That's my place. Not that disgusting bed!
I shoved my body and head into the corner, clamped my hands over my ears, bowed my head, and squeezed my eyes shut. I didn't want to see anything in this wretched world. How am I supposed to live like this? But I didn't want to die either. It's so unfair. Why is my life nothing but injustice?
I couldn't understand Lobelia's demands. Why demand the body back now, after I'd endured all this brutality? I'll just be Lobelia. Please, leave me alone. Don't appear before me again.
"What the hell is wrong with you?!"
No matter how hard I plugged my ears, the hero's voice pierced through. Then my arms were seized, yanking my body off balance.
"You little shit! I heal you, and this is how you repay me?!"
Absurd. A hollow laugh escaped me. Heal me? Then don't create the need in the first place!
"Don't create situations that need healing!! Why do you keep doing this to m—"
Nausea hit. Why now?
"Urk... bleeech."
I collapsed, vomiting onto the floor. But with nothing in my stomach, it was just bile. No food to expel—just acid burning my insides, tormenting my empty gut.
"Gasp... gasp..."
Tears welled up. The fear of Lobelia stealing my body gripped me. The hero's image—violating and beating me—terrified me anew. My body trembled uncontrollably. As I huddled there before my own mess, shaking, the hero stared down at me blankly, it seemed.
Just leave. Leave me alone.
But he mercilessly grabbed my arm and dragged me somewhere. Exhausted, I couldn't resist.
Mana deficiency? So that's why I can't cast even a basic spell? It was heartbreaking. Without that, I'd have escaped this hero long ago.
Back on the bed, I stared blankly at the ceiling with vacant eyes. This was the only way to endure. Now distant from Lobelia's terror, I finally calmed. No more of her voice—thank goodness.
Only then did my vision clear. And I realized this wasn't the hero's house. But with him beside me, I couldn't look around. My earlier panic—freaking out at his face, screaming—had been too much.
I groaned softly, and the hero spoke first.
"What the hell's wrong with you? Because of what happened yesterday?"
His words summoned the memory. My eyes widened; I clamped my mouth shut. Nothing left to vomit, yet nausea surged. Unavoidable, I supposed.
Gasping, barely holding it back, the hero sighed heavily. He seemed to guess from my demeanor.
"S-sorry..."
I didn't want to escalate things, so I meekly apologized. My voice barely a whisper, I groaned again. I just wanted peace. To escape the bed—or if doomed to it, sleep away. But sleep terrified me too. I'd lost consciousness and met her. Everything scared me. Was anything allowed to me? Food, clothes, sleep—nothing granted properly. They say food, clothing, shelter are basics for living, but as a slave demon, was I denied even that?
Possessing this body felt like it was eating away at my mind. Was that why my body felt so heavy, my eyes hollow? Why the fatigue never lifted?
"...I'll, uh, stay on the floor."
Maybe it was the bed. I hated beds. Hesitantly, I suggested it to the hero. But he ignored me, plopping into the chair beside.
"What nonsense. Don't pull that shit in a hospital."
Hospital. Realization dawned; I stared blankly at him. Nearly died, but survived? So I'd met Lobelia not in sleep, but on the brink of death.
Since being summoned here, I'd stumbled blindly, clueless. Even now, facing something, I could only question inwardly.
"Sigh, sorry about that. Starving that frail body of yours—it's no surprise."
The hero scratched his head roughly, mumbling like he was forcing it out. Glancing around the hospital room, his words hit so suddenly I whipped my head toward him. Our eyes met; his face showed genuine remorse.
Sudden as it was, I didn't know how to react. Best to just accept it neutrally. No need for expressions.
I glanced at him, stayed silent, turned away, and leaned against the wall.
Pathetic—after all that abuse, one apology brings tears. But it didn't erase the past. No reason to forgive. Disgusting bastard. Exhaustion brought only hollow laughs now. He flinched at the sound, but I had no energy to respond.
How much time passed? The hero broke the silence.
"...Guess departure's delayed."
I flicked my eyes at him, then closed them gently. Pushing aside the echoing "give it back," the hunger, I let all tension drain.
Abused physically, cornered mentally, now told to vacate by the body's owner—I questioned my existence. Was I just a temporary buffer for this body's pain? Knowing suffering awaited, did she use me as an escape? If that's all I am, how do I accept it? Like living without questioning my purpose, then being told, "You're an extra—get lost."
My lips twisted. Emotions churning, brows furrowed. Unable to process, I swallowed sobs and sighed.
"I asked the nurse for soup. Eat it."
"......"
Again. This hypocritical, repulsive hero. Brutal when tormenting me, now pretending kindness. Even if I exposed it as a demon slave, they'd just shrug.
I meant to refuse. Reject his "kindness." Revolting. But recalling how I'd been driven to near-death, body and mind collapsing... Realizing we were in a hospital because of that, my breath caught.
Right. I was dying—that's when I met Lobelia. Scary to meet her again.
Lost in thoughts, the hero frowned, slapping a hand on the bed. One bed, two people? "Eek." I recoiled instinctively, whimpering in fear. He sighed sharply.
"Eat when it's brought. They said you nearly died. I brought you here to use you, at least."
His words yanked my pale mind back to reality. Staring blankly, relief washed over me unexpectedly. Yeah, that's him. He needed info on the Demon King, possibly inside me—not my body itself.
I wanted to confess: The Demon King's consciousness sleeps within me. But fear of facing Lobelia Yuris again made me accept the repulsive soup.
"Th-thank you. I'll... eat it well."
Starving into a coma—that's when I'd face Lobelia... I shoved the thought away. Even waking, her voice demanding the seal's release echoed vividly. Clutching the blanket, tears fell.
Sorry. Can I... just live as Lobelia Yuris? I don't want to die again...