Chapter 198
Chapter 198
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 197
Chapter Title: The Ecosystem of the Dream Demon House
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I knew the reward for discovering a rule would be no ordinary thing.
Recalling that the Black Necromancer hadn't shared it lightly, I figured it had to be something so valuable that getting ambushed for it wouldn't be surprising.
But this...
"This is better than I imagined."
I infused a bit of mana, and Remegaton resonated with me, emitting a faint black glow.
Having used one for a while, I was certain.
This was the real deal—a true Spirit Stone.
Yet that left me with a question. Could they really produce something of this caliber so casually?
'No matter what, they couldn't be mass-producing them like cheap knockoffs.'
Still, the feel and effect gripping my hand confirmed it was genuine Remegaton.
"How curious."
This mansion—
The Dream Demon House, even though I'd only been here briefly, was undeniably bizarre.
Figures from the past roamed freely, with no restrictions on sharing future knowledge.
Yet items like Remegaton were handed out as if they were trivial rewards.
There were too many ambiguities to count, so I pondered for a moment.
Then—
KABOOM!
A massive impact echoed from outside.
The walls vibrated instantly, as if something had crashed into them.
THUD! THUD! THUD!
The impacts didn't stop there, continuing relentlessly. A woman's scream tore through the air.
I flung open the door and stepped into the corridor. A hulking man with a massive build was snorting heavily, pinning a woman against the wall and raining down punches.
"Again! Say it one more time!"
THUD! THUD! THUD!
He looked like another guest, with tanned skin. His face was unfamiliar, but I recognized the woman he was beating.
She was the one who'd sewn her own hand back when I first arrived.
She hadn't even screamed after the first hit, just taking blow after blow.
Her body was grotesquely twisted now, and she seemed to have lost consciousness after that initial cry.
I wondered if I should intervene, but others who poked their heads out or stepped into the hall just watched stoically.
From elderly folks to young children—it surprised me a bit, but anyway.
"Say it again! What? What's wrong with my bones? What did you say you'd do with my skin?"
It seemed the woman had appraised the man's body just like she had with me earlier, speaking her mind.
CRACK!
The sharp sound of bones shattering finally proved she was no longer of this world.
The man panted, lowering his fist. The woman slid limply to the floor.
"Hoo! Filthy bitch."
He shook out his hand contentedly, then noticed us watching and bared his teeth in warning.
"What're you staring at? You want the same? Get lost."
A kid who'd poked his head out scurried back to his room at the man's growl, but the rest didn't budge.
Among them, a young man with a ponytail smiled, hands behind his back.
"That tan skin— you're a hero from the Jerman Kingdom, I take it?"
"Hah? Yeah, I'm Jortu from the Jerman Kingdom."
The brute introduced himself as Jortu. The ponytail guy smiled back.
"I'm Han So of the Han Empire."
"Han So? The War God Han So?"
I knew Han So too. He was mentioned in the game, but more precisely, I'd once helped his soul find repose.
'One of the victims at Magan's banquet.'
Han So had been part of the Han Empire delegation. By the time I intervened, he'd already been defeated and killed by Magan.
He'd been a wrinkled old man back then, so this youthful version was likely Han So at his peak.
Jortu stroked his chin, eyeing Han So with a strange expression.
"The Han So I know is a middle-aged geezer."
"You still haven't grasped what this place is."
Han So chuckled deeply, uncharacteristically for his young face. Jortu flew into a rage and swung his fist.
But—
WHAM!
Han So's punch struck Jortu's solar plexus at a speed too fast to follow, pulling back just as quick.
Kneeling, Jortu made the outcome clear in an anticlimactic fashion. I turned my head slightly.
Truth be told, more than those two, my eyes had been drawn to the woman's mangled form.
'Not much blood.'
She should've drenched the floor by now, yet barely any blood leaked from her.
As I checked her out, she was already crawling away toward room 108—hers.
Creak.
Thud.
She slipped inside without a groan, despite looking unmistakably dead.
I'd suspected as much earlier. Now I knew what she was.
'A Corpse Sorcerer.'
Whether that was her real body or just a corpse she piloted like a puppet, I couldn't say for sure.
Either way, it meant her life wasn't in much danger compared to Jortu's efforts.
"Cough! Gah!"
Meanwhile, Jortu huddled, screaming after more blows from Han So.
Then—
SHUNK!
A black blade erupted from his spine, shattering it.
The smirking Han So recoiled in shock.
Jortu spewed blood from his back and mouth, eyes closing. Behind him came the cold click of heels— an 18-year-old Black Necromancer.
"Shut up."
Her chilling warning sent all the other guests back into their rooms, save Han So.
Necromantic energy rippled from her shadow, spreading ominously.
"Even villains don't get to take lives so lightly."
Han So, the only one who didn't retreat, furrowed his brow in warning. The Black Necromancer didn't flinch.
"No one treats life more casually than Necromancers."
"If you value your own life that little, fine by me."
"Twisting your neck and a chicken's would be the same to me."
The two glared without yielding. As I watched silently, Jortu's pooling blood rose into the air, forming letters.
-22. A deceased guest leaves behind any rules they know.
-23. A deceased guest's possessions remain in the mansion without an owner.
-24. Upon a guest's death, their room unlocks. Until then, entry is forbidden, even with the owner's permission.
"There's a method like this too?"
The Black Necromancer stroked her chin, intrigued by the blood-written words floating in the air.
They soon fell back, soaking Jortu even more pathetically.
Han So and the Black Necromancer eyed the rules, then each other.
"If you plan to kill another for rules, don't."
Her sneer widened at his stern warning.
"Looks like this guy just caused a ruckus to learn and use the other rules himself."
"......"
I agreed.
It made sense that Jortu had realized killing a guest yielded rules and rewards, biding his time for an opportunity.
Han So clamped his mouth shut, unable to deny it.
"Seems like if someone's already found a rule, there's no separate reward."
The Black Necromancer mused, disappointed yet having learned something.
I noted again how different she was from the Black Necromancer I knew. She even warned me, casually standing behind Han So.
"I helped you earlier since you're a fellow Necromancer. But if you annoy me, you're next. Don't expect special treatment."
Her bristling, porcupine-like demeanor showed just how dangerous she was now.
But I didn't mind.
It was mostly bravado.
She was warning that recklessly attacking now, after I'd uncovered a deadly rule, wouldn't end well.
Ignoring her thorny words, I glanced at Jortu. Offended, she added,
"What? Expecting a ghost? Guys like him usually do whatever they want—no lingering regrets strong enough to become evil spirits."
As a Black Necromancer who saw only evil spirits with deep grudges, she said it dismissively.
But with my Spirit Eyes, I saw all souls.
'No soul in sight.'
Unclear if the freshly dead Jortu had no soul to begin with, or if it was absorbed somewhere before I noticed.
Like Ophelia's lover, who also lacked one.
"Hah, boring."
Unfazed, she headed upstairs to the second floor.
I'd noticed she descended from there upon her first appearance—worth checking out.
Then maids appeared from somewhere.
Prim in antique maid outfits, their pale skin almost ghostly under heavy makeup, they bowed deeply to me and Han So.
"We'll clean up the body."
"Sorry for the inconvenience."
As they mopped the blood and carted off Jortu's corpse, Han So sidled up to me.
"You're alright? Room 110—the farthest number."
"Just arrived."
"Hmm. Might I have your name?"
His polite request felt odd, knowing his fate.
"Deus Verdi. From Northsweden."
"Northsweden—Griffin Kingdom? Sorry, my knowledge is limited. I don't know you."
Of course not.
At Han So's current age, Deus hadn't even been born.
He knew that, giving me a chance to introduce myself.
But my eyes kept drifting to Jortu's body.
Something told me I couldn't look away.
"Hm? Something wrong?"
Ignoring Han So's chatter, I watched the gurney carry out the corpse.
Where would they take it?
Then—
Drip, drip.
His blood drops on the floor began to move, forming letters.
-28. There are no servants in the Dream Demon House.
Swoosh!
The maid's mop erased it instantly.
I traced my gaze up her filthy rag to her round eyes, staring blankly at me.
Wide open like they'd pop out if tapped, unblinking like a doll.
Gauging if I'd seen the message.
Stone-faced impassivity is my specialty. Staring back as if questioning her instead, she tried mopping again.
ZZZT!
Space rippled before me, a golden staff materializing.
Reward for the rule.
"Mangcheonmubong?!"
Han So gasped, recognizing it.
But the maids' chilling stares were already fixed on me.
"You saw it."