Swallowing the Cursed Grimoire and the Corridor of Infinite Fear
Let's consult an expert. With that thought, I ate it.
"Urk."
The moment I realized what I'd done, I jammed my fingers down my throat to puke it back up, but it was no use.
I'd definitely swallowed it, yet there was no sense of fullness at all.
It must've already been absorbed into my body.
Thud. My legs gave out, and I collapsed right there.
I stared blankly, alternating between my empty hand and the table where the Magic Book had been.
A bizarre tome that dominated human emotions.
According to the duke's diary, it also granted immense power.
And I'd eaten that thing.
I wanted to believe it was all a hallucination, but the thick, lingering aftertaste in my mouth proved it was harsh reality.
"This is insane."
I'd brainwashed myself so much with I'm starving, absorb it already that I snapped and bit into it without thinking.
But who could've guessed it would actually be chewable?
To be honest, it tasted good.
I unconsciously licked my lips.
The nutty, flavor-packed richness of fat—like the finest foie gras—still lingered on my tongue.
"...Wasn't it supposed to be leather?"
The moment it touched my teeth, it yielded so softly, then melted away in ultimate tenderness.
Digging through my old memories, it felt just like a sous-vide ribeye steak, slow-cooked to perfection.
Maybe it only looked like leather on the outside but was actually meat?
One thing was clear: it wasn't some ancient grimoire from a fantasy world.
"Ugh...."
Thinking about it like that brought the revulsion surging back.
Eating something unknown and weird—what the hell?
I rubbed my face, did a dry wash, and hauled myself up.
Anyway, I'd escaped the Magic Book's threat, right?
Now all that was left was bracing for whatever changes it would wreak on my body.
"No way it's gonna go down easy."
I'm not some chosen hero or anything.
Even a hero wouldn't have immunity to this crap.
"There has to be some side effect."
I imagined that by sunset, I'd be wandering like the duke, hunting for some living thing to devour.
Please, anything but that.
I hurriedly stuffed the diary back in its box and shoved it under the bed where it belonged.
The duke would spot it the second he returned anyway, but I had to clean up.
I leaped back toward the secret passage in the ceiling.
I already knew where to go.
Time to meet the witch.
I had no idea how incredible a witch's powers were in this world.
But one thing was certain: even the duke, wielding immense authority, had clung to her as his last hope amid his mental decay.
Considering his obsession, she had to be either brimming with knowledge about the Magic Book or some legendary wish-granter straight out of fairy tales.
The duke had wandered lost without knowing the corridor's location, but I was different.
I'd witnessed it myself last night.
The long-stretching hallway had seemed like a hallucination in the chaos back then, but now I knew.
That was the corridor the duke sought. The witch was there.
"Gotta get there before it's too late."
Honestly, I was a bit worried about Ariel still at the ballroom.
If Scarlett had been the duke's target, I'd have dropped everything and rushed to her side.
But I had no reason to fret over Ariel yet.
She was the original story's heroine, after all. She'd survive just fine on her own.
My life came first.
Before the Magic Book could do who-knows-what to me, I needed to see the witch ASAP.
Not a second to waste.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Retracing last night's memories, I reached a secluded corner of the mansion.
The dusty west annex, so abandoned even the servants rarely ventured there.
Farther than I'd thought.
It really hit me how frantically I'd fled last night.
Passing the passage, I eyed the hallway—and there it stretched out, an alien vista repeating endlessly.
"Alright, challenge accepted."
I stepped into the corridor.
My body floated for a moment, then nothing changed.
"Huh?"
Glancing around in confusion, I saw the passage I'd just left had become another infinite loop of corridor.
I was in.
Easier than expected.
How had the duke missed this place?
Some condition? Or he'd found it but lost his mind and forgotten?
"No time for useless thoughts."
I shook my head to clear the distractions and walked the corridor.
An unchanging, repeating scene.
Nothing off, but there had to be a rule.
"Not a fan of ghost stories."
I was weak to horror tropes, but I knew the solution to infinite loop puzzles: only one classic.
Time to test it. The most famous rule: advance if it feels normal. Turn back immediately at any anomaly.
A few experiments confirmed it worked.
The perfectly symmetrical corridor made spotting glitches easy.
The door at the end drew closer with each step.
"Almost there."
Success loosened my tension, building confidence.
The seventh corridor. Normal too. Perfect symmetry.
Obsessive-compulsives would be in bliss.
I strode forward without hesitation.
Then, a chill hit my back.
Like icy fingers trailing my spine.
A goosebump-inducing breeze on my nape, as if someone breathed down it.
Anomaly!
Warning bells screamed in my head.
Should I turn? What if something's back there?
Freeze, advance, or look?
Couldn't decide.
The chill crept closer, slowly freezing my body solid.
If I don't wanna die...
Run.
I bolted forward, fleeing the cold.
And of course...
The door receded.
"No. Shit..."
This wasn't it.
Stick some unknown horror on my back, and if I don't look, reset? Just creepy and cold, and I'd have turned.
But that terror when it touched me? No illusion.
Instinctual dread: look and die.
Setting that up as an "anomaly" was some sick joke.
"Really don't wanna grant wishes, huh?"
I grumbled at the trap-setting witch.
But now I got it.
Fear was the obstacle?
Next time, I'd grit through it.
I walked again.
Eighth corridor.
Chill again.
Still creepy, but different now.
"Nah, not falling for it."
This time, eyes squeezed shut, I spun and ran back.
Fear ruled my mind, but unseen, it was bearable.
Ten steps later, eyes open: familiar corridor.
Door still close.
"Phew... success."
Good. Psychological tricks, huh?
The Magic Book, now this corridor.
Why toy with the mind so much?
Still, one-trick pony suited me fine.
Fear was learnable. Overcome once, it fades.
Endless loops brought varied anomalies.
Attempts to imprint terror.
Back to corridor one repeatedly, memorizing them.
Once known, not scary.
Patterns emerged.
Creator's imagination lacking? Not many varieties.
Black shadow on stairs, shield morphing grotesquely, target door opening/closing alone, armor missing shoes.
Déjà vu...
That thought triggered unforeseen horrors.
Vicious traps squeezing complacency.
Lost count of loops.
Endless tension dulled senses, mind fogging.
Urge to quit this hellish hallway dominated.
How badly do you not wanna grant wishes?
Curiosity alone, I'd quit. But death loomed otherwise.
No running from fear.
After countless loops and fails...
The target door neared for real.
Last corridor.
What anomaly awaited? I scanned tensely.
"...Nothing."
Spotless.
Perfectly symmetrical, utterly mundane.
Hence, more unnerving.
Key lesson from loops: these were the worst.
"Come on, whatever it is."
Standing still, heart pounded.
Maybe already started.
Step forward—breath quickened, vision tunneled dark.
Eerie laughter in ears, then silence.
Forced another step—scorching heat engulfed me like a furnace.
Eyes barely open.
Shut tight, crimson eyes glared from the dark silhouette.
Impulse to flee overwhelmed.
But illusions.
Anomaly? Turn back.
Tempting whisper from inner coward.
Corridor normal; my senses warped.
All brain fakes.
Retreat, and done.
Must advance.
"Bull...shit."
Trying to control emotions again.
I shoved foreign thoughts aside, steadying my mind.
Emotion domination? Been there.
Fear clouded judgment still.
Sorry, but compared to the Magic Book, your skills suck.
Teeth gritted, instincts crushed, I turned forward.
Heart seized, pain like bursting.
Stepped again.
Ears rang deafeningly; vision blood-red.
Stumbled back instinctively.
Cold sweat poured.
Quit?
Feels like death.
Unknown terror crashed over me.
Die stubborn here? Pointless. Seeking easy life.
But I didn't stop.
One step, one step.
Chanting advance only.
Kill the fear.
Kept walking.
Maybe wrong choice.
Mind muddled.
Invisible leeches sucking vitality.
Reach end, collapse dead.
Rule never changed.
Barrier wasn't anomalies.
My raging inner fear.
Kill it, you wild boar.
Mysterious line from duke's diary.
Now I understood.
He'd been here.
A spark of strength.
Through eternal agony...
Hand on doorknob at corridor's end.
Illusions, tinnitus, emotional storm—gone like lies.
Only silence.
"Hoo."
Sighing a lot today.
But made it.
Infinite corridor cleared.
Glanced back: pristine, no anomalies. No more loops.
"Cleared."
Right? Signal if something broke.
Torment to death, then anticlimax.
Resentment boiled toward the trial-setting witch.
Fine, let's see your face.
Full of gripe, I yanked the door open.
Creeeak.
Beyond: warm room with fireplace glow, unlike the dry hall.
Room center, antique style.
A mysterious woman of indeterminate age knitted in a plush armchair, speaking indifferently without looking.
"Get out, you filthy thing."
Wow. What an attitude.