Chapter 9
Chapter 9
GT-257 wasn’t a gate Aaren had experienced in his previous life, but mental-type gates generally fell into three broad categories.
One overwhelmed the mind with sheer terror and shattered reason.
Another dug into past trauma or deeply rooted guilt.
And the last tempted victims—offering rewards or pretending to need help.
“Rich… I’m rich now…”
“Looks like he got tempted, right?”
Ran gestured toward the agent clutching a ceramic vase, eyes rolled back.
The object in his arms was likely one of the exhibits inside GT-257. Whether he touched it and got tempted, or was tempted into touching it, didn’t matter.
This gate’s method was clearly one of attraction.
The gate, which had earlier tried mimicking Ran and Aaren’s voices, seemed to realize it wasn’t working. Now, it made no further attempts on them.
“Doesn’t look like he’s fully assimilated. If we take the vase, he should go back to normal.”
“If he were completely taken over, he’d attack the moment we removed it.”
The trembling state he was in suggested otherwise.
“Hmm… so who’s doing it?”
That was the problem—how to take it.
No matter how strong their mental resistance was, touching it barehanded would still have an effect. Destroying it was an option—
“But then the gate would turn aggressive.”
“Yeah, that’s how it usually goes.”
That would mean committing to fully clearing the gate.
For now, it was relatively harmless—just luring people in. Fix the manual and adjust the classification later, and that’d be enough.
“I’ll do it.”
Aaren stepped forward, pulling on white gloves before reaching out. Ran loosened her grip on his hand slightly.
“Left cheek or right cheek?”
“Somewhere it won’t show. Stomach.”
“Huh? Why the stomach?”
“You want people asking questions?”
“You really care about appearances.”
Ignoring her, Aaren smoothly pulled the vase from the agent’s arms.
Easier than expected.
Then—
A sharp sensation.
His vision dimmed.
Gold coins poured endlessly before his eyes.
Congratulations. This artifact has been sold for—#$&%—
Auction noises echoed around him.
Then—
Squeeze.
“Ugh…!”
He snapped back instantly.
The auction vanished. The museum returned.
“You okay?”
“Thanks to you.”
A dull pain throbbed in his abdomen—Ran had pinched him hard.
Thud.
The possessed agent collapsed unconscious.
Aaren slung him over his shoulder.
“Let’s return this and move. Six more left.”
“Got it. What did you see?”
“An auction. Ridiculous price.”
“Ah, that kind of temptation? Pretty weak gate.”
Against reincarnators, it truly was.
They moved through the museum, repeating the same process.
Aaren pinched Ran’s inner arm or thigh.
Ran pinched his stomach.
“My fingers hurt more than anything. Can I just pinch your cheek?”
“Just one more left. Endure it.”
Six agents rescued.
Each had clung to different objects—statues, photos, ceramics.
Only one remained.
“Next one’s your turn. I’m not doing stomach again.”
“Then where?”
Ran grinned.
“…Your nipple?”
“Are you insane?”
Aaren snapped.
Ran burst out laughing.
“Hey, your body’s like steel. That’s probably softer.”
“Say something that makes sense.”
Aaren strode ahead, pretending not to hear.
Ran quickly caught up.
“You’re shy? We’ve already seen everything.”
“That was survival. This isn’t.”
“You pinched me too.”
“…That was necessary.”
They continued restoring exhibits.
“…My money…”
“…Don’t take it…”
The rescued agents groaned faintly, lingering effects still present.
“This place is huge. Been over an hour.”
“Too big for F-rank.”
“Bet it was popular in the previous life.”
“Didn’t even know it existed.”
Which meant—no major incidents.
“Must’ve been tightly controlled when opened.”
“Or the researchers messed it up this time.”
“Wouldn’t be surprising.”
They walked deeper.
Then—
“Hey. That’s a research coat.”
“…What did he touch?”
They found him.
A rookie researcher.
Except—
“Uh… can we even take him out like this?”
“Try first.”
He wasn’t just metaphorically frozen.
He had turned into a marble statue.
“…Maybe it wasn’t safe back then either.”
“Meaning?”
“They became exhibits.”
“…That actually makes sense.”
Statues eerily similar to humans filled the museum.
If those were all people—
This wasn’t F-rank.
“Take that frame first.”
Aaren pointed at the empty frame in the statue’s hand.
He reached out.
Then—
A deafening hum.
Welcome to our &$#% museum. You seem to have finished your tour. Now, become one with art—
A voice filled his head.
His body felt heavy.
The urge to stay… to become art… crept in.
Ah, a resistant guest. No worries. Once you become art—
‘At least D-rank.’
Then—
Pain.
He snapped back.
“…You.”
Ran avoided his gaze.
“I tried your stomach first. Didn’t work.”
“…I didn’t feel anything.”
“Too much muscle.”
“……”
“Did it hurt? Want me to blow on it?”
“…Let’s go.”
Ignoring her teasing, Aaren carried the statue out.
They exited the gate.
Light returned.
“Ran-nim!”
“Are you both alright?!”
Seven agents rescued.
No visible mental damage.
And—
“Hey, are you sulking? Want a bandage?”
Ran poked Aaren’s side playfully.
The onlookers were stunned.
“…How…?”
This didn’t look like a mission return.
It looked casual.
“R-Ran-nim and Gate Management Team 3 agent Aaren have returned safely.”
“Ah.”
“Ah…”
Only then did they realize everyone was watching.
They froze.
Then—
“Ran.”
A heavy presence cut through the air.
She slowly turned.
“…Dad?”
Standing there was the chairman of Zenith—
Taechun.
“I hear you ignored procedure and acted independently.”
His gaze was cold.
“Explain everything. What happened inside.”
Then his eyes shifted to Aaren.
Sharper. Colder.
“Especially your relationship with that agent.”
Not exactly how you’d describe a “secret friend.”
Sweat trickled down both their backs.