Chapter 84
Chapter 84
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter Title: Shattered Illusions
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A cramped room without a single window.
More like a shabby warehouse than a room.
The fishy smell of blood was followed by the scent of dust. A familiar smell that tickled old memories and stirred up nostalgia.
This was just like the room I lived in as a child.
Outside, my father would tilt his glass.
The glass mug clinked against the soju bottle, and liquor gurgled as it filled the mug. The child listened to it all from inside the room.
Left alone in the narrow space with no real furniture, the little kid coughed from inhaling all the dust but never stepped outside. All they could do was hope their father wouldn't come in.
But the drunken father always barged in and beat the child anyway, sending the thick dust swirling back into the air each time.
Just like back then, this place reeked of dust too. A scent that made everything feel desolate and parched.
"………."
"That bitch Yeriel is something else. It's normally impossible, but she actually tracked you down."
Kahtel shrugged his shoulders.
Feeling a tightness in my throat, I replayed what he'd said.
Magic beasts.
[I'm going to kill them all.]
Me, a magic beast.
[Magic beasts, demons—everything.]
―Tick.
Dust smell.
My nose itched. The stinging brought tears to my eyes.
I stared blankly at the dust floating in the air.
If Kahtel summoned this body and Yeriel possessed me with it, then who was sending those novel updates to my phone nonstop? Yeriel?
"So the one sending me the novel was Yeriel too?"
My voice cracked. My throat ached from all the dust I'd inhaled.
"Hm? A novel?"
"It kept saying this was a novel world... sending chapters to my phone..."
"Hahahahaha!!"
Kahtel tilted his head, then burst out laughing.
"A world inside a novel... That's hilarious. Absolutely hilarious. Do you read a lot of novels usually? To put it bluntly..."
"This isn't a novel world. It's reality."
―Tick.
Dust smell again. Clock tick again.
No way?
Then...
[This world is inside the novel 'Acamedy Academy.']
What the hell is that, then?
"I can see it on your face—you don't get it. Or maybe you just don't want to."
Kahtel smirked, clearly amused by the situation, and continued.
"I was pretty shocked when I first found you. Surprised she managed to find a matching soul and settle it in, sure. But even more shocked that Yeriel hadn't turned you into a puppet yet. Why not? Why hadn't she erased you...? It didn't take long to figure it out."
Kahtel took a step forward. Dust piled on the floor billowed up.
"You'd lost all your power. No matter the connection, a body and soul don't mesh perfectly unless it's the original owner. The possession worked, but since it wasn't the body's native soul, dissonance was inevitable."
The dry wooden floor creaked under his weight, twisting with age. Dust particles grazed my eyes, splintering into the dryness.
"Yeriel probably wanted you to regain your power. Otherwise, possessing you makes no sense. My guess is, the method she'd choose to restore your strength..."
"Injecting demonic energy to force it back. That's the only option."
―Tick.
"Humans addicted to demonic energy often hallucinate from the side effects and go mad."
Kahtel's lips curled up, still looking delighted.
"Ever suffered from hallucinations or auditory ones?"
"………."
I couldn't answer. He stepped closer; I stepped back.
"Looks like you have."
Kahtel muttered softly. Then he stroked his chin, amused, peering down at me.
As if curious what reaction I'd show.
We faced each other in brief silence. The dust rising toward the ceiling lost momentum and settled again—a momentary hush, neither instant nor eternity.
Then Kahtel's mouth opened.
"Anis Harper. Every novel you saw was just a hallucination."
――Tick.
The second hand scattered over the dust.
There was no clock in the room.
#
"No..."
"No what?"
I denied it.
No.
Not a hallucination.
I repeated it to myself.
I wasn't blindly denying it with eyes and ears shut.
I'd even doubted it myself once—whether the novel updating on my phone was all in my head.
A faint suspicion.
But my conclusion after doubting was 'No.'
When I first arrived in this world, the novel gave me basic info about it.
The existence of angels, how they fell and became demons, and the magic beasts those demons summoned.
The first update detailed a worldview I knew nothing about.
And not just that. The next day's update had info on Han U-sol I didn't know.
So I didn't doubt it. I believed this was a novel world.
The first two pieces of info matched perfectly—no way it was all hallucinations.
Sure, later updates were worthless, but I figured it was just some prank from whoever sent me here.
-Rustle.
My long, ebony hair swayed, blocking my view. I realized I'd bowed my head.
Kahtel looked down at me slowly before speaking.
"Come to think of it, when I severed Yeriel's authority earlier, I spotted a few compulsions engraved on your soul. She must've hesitated to stamp a full brand—risk of shattering the soul—so weak compulsions were her safest bet. You could tell she'd been careful."
My head sank lower. My vision was now fully curtained in black.
"The first was basic info about this world. No idea why she bothered. Yeriel's little act of kindness?"
That info engraved on my soul had converted into novel form for me, a webnovel fan, Kahtel explained.
"The second was info on Han U-sol. I get why on this one. Yeriel wanted him to awaken her authority ASAP if possible. So she kept you—dosed with demonic energy—close to him. Angelic power reacts to it, after all. Sure enough, there's a weak compulsion to stick near him with the info."
Han U-sol's info turned into novel hallucination too. What did I think when I first saw it?
Right—I needed to get close to him.
――Stick to the protagonist for now!
"...No. That was..."
That was my will. My own thought, my conclusion.
I slumped to the floor, hands pressed against it.
I definitely...
"That wasn't your will. It was Yeriel's induced compulsion."
――Tick.
Dust. And the clock.
"The last one's the easiest to understand. Someone juiced on demonic energy might snap and start killing people, so she needed a safety net. Let me see... what was it again?"
Kahtel stroked his chin.
"Ah, right. This."
[Become a hero and save people.]
[Become a hero and save people.]
All the traces I'd left behind. Stumbling footprints I'd desperately etched into the soft earth.
The pillar I'd clumsily piled up amid pathetic struggles—it all came crashing down. All my desperate efforts to hold on, rendered pointless.
Where did I end and not-I begin?
"Why the long face?"
Everything dissolved into dust.
"This has always been where you belong."
――Tick.
The clock hands pointed to 12.
…………….
Ah.
I'm falling.
The floor is...
Still can't see it.
――Tick.
The hands keep moving, relentless.
Unless the clock shatters and dies.
Of course time marches on.
###
Leaving Anis slumped on the wooden floor behind him, Kahtel stepped outside.
"Will she be okay?"
"What about?"
"You summoned her body, and you've got some stake in her possession. What if she suddenly snaps and attacks you, yelling she's gonna kill you too?"
Camilla said as she greeted Kahtel.
"Hm. Who knows."
"Huh?"
"Everything she thought she did is being denied, everything's suspect now. Think she'll have the bandwidth to worry about that?"
Now that she knew the truth, she had nowhere to go. Even if she wanted to return, she couldn't.
In the end, this was her only place. Would she destroy it with her own hands?
She, who feared loneliness so fiercely.
"...You're right. What if she offs herself suddenly? I'd kill myself."
Kahtel replied to Camilla—who was scratching her ear—as if she'd said something obvious.
"Then we stop her."
###
Hello. This is Anis.
Why the sudden formal speech? Because monologues in polite form are always special.
Even throwaway lines gain a touch of melancholy, making you feel like the tragic heroine in some dramatic film. Perfect for playing pitiful.
Polite speech is a fragile tongue that invites disdain. I guarantee it—I've lived my whole life looked down on.
But it's also a convenient one that easily draws pity.
I'm so miserable. I'm so unhappy. Nothing beats it for begging mercy.
Yes. That's right. I'm playing pitiful right now.
Why? What do you mean why?
Pity me.
Life is comedy from afar, tragedy up close—or so they say. Charlie Chaplin, you're wrong!
Times have changed; the world's upside down. Modern life is 'tragedy from afar, cheap comedy up close that transcends farce.' I thought my life was tragic, but nope—it's a shitty comedy! Fun times!
Stale 19th-century ghosts need to adapt. Charlie Chaplin, learn from the Joker.
...Hey, you. Why are you laughing? Am I funny?
……..
Funny, right? Even I think so—must be hilarious for you.
I thought it was my will. Thought I was scrambling to stand by the light I yearned for.
Even if I couldn't blend in and shine bright, I believed I'd sparkled briefly.
But no. What a comedy.
If getting close to Han U-sol wasn't my will, if it was fake... then were all those peaceful daily emotions fake too? No idea.
If wanting to save people was fake, was the feeling when I saved Rena fake too?
The responsibility I felt fighting for those trapped in the park container?
The odd pride from getting that medal?
The awkward smile and ticklishness from Rockbell patting my shoulder all day, praising me?
The emotions when Rena and Rockbell died?
All fake? No clue.
All I know is, deciding to save people came from a compulsion planted in my soul.
That's it.
Oh, and that this isn't a novel world.
The sensation of Elis's vertebrae snapping under my hands—that flowing in—was real. I know it.
The bald guys who died in the abandoned building were the same.
They weren't typed letters on a white page. They were living people.
…………. Ah.
Kahtel said it: Yeriel possessed me to steal my ego, turn me into a puppet, and fight magic beasts.
Impressive. Such a demonic choice, all for humanity. Oh, how noble.
Some souls get compulsions and crumble like this. Guess that's why she's an angel—no hesitation in her resolve.
For humanity's sake—no choice. How can filthy pebbles like me compare to the mountain of mankind?
All humanity vs. one ordinary human. Anyone picks humanity. Over some dirty, ugly speck.
I get it, angel lady. Oh, I do. I respect your noble, pure choice.
She's the angel...! God's proxy, humanity's guardian. Light's savior illuminating the distant future...!
Of course an angel would save humans suffering from magic beasts.
But then...
Who saves me?
…………….
You there. Having fun?
Yes, you. Standing back, just watching like it's entertaining, intriguing.
The one waiting for me to fall, saying 'hurry up and break, hurry up and collapse.'
That amusing? My despair?
Is that why you ignored my prayers?
Not just ignoring—refusing to hear them?
Why withhold the light?
Don't you pity me at all? Even as I play up how pitiful I am.
Why...
………………. Ah.
Fuck. You listening?
Pity me. And send the light.
If justice lives in this world, you must.
Hurry.
――Tick.
Faster.
――Tick-tick.
"Pity me!!!!!"
Tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick
"Time is passing!!!!!!!!!!"
Scraaaape. Craaaaack.
Nails scraped the floor; old wood splintered, baring thorns.
Sharp wooden spikes dug into my nails. Ripping the cuticles raw, staining the white canvas bloody red, beading crimson.
Craaaaaack. Nails kept gouging anyway. Dull paint oozed from fingertips, messing the floor.
Everything mixed. Hallucinations, echoes, snapping nails.
Even the dry dust slumbering below soaked into the thick paint from my fingertips.
The dark red blood muddied further with dust. Clear tears trailing down cheeks congealed sticky and thick.
Even so.
Scraaape―
It didn't stop.
――Tick.
The clock wouldn't stop.
Mixing and mixing, sinking into deep ocean—
"Anis?"
For the first time ever.
"You okay?"
"………Betty."
God took pity on me.