Aren't You Going to Hold My Hand?
Having finished checking the Hero's Heart boon, Ian set the book down for a moment and stared at it.
The setting was so utterly twisted... Thinking about what lay ahead made his head throb faintly.
It wasn't some story where [If you're not the protagonist, the world ends!]—but he couldn't just brush it off either. Depending on how far the protagonists had progressed, the dangers Ian would face could change dramatically.
If they'd already unlocked a ton of stuff, this world might wear a completely different face from the game he knew.
And the fact that there were two of them nagged at him.
"It's really just those two, right?"
This only listed people registered at the temple. There could be more out there with the boon who hadn't bothered.
"Ha... Can't go around asking everyone..."
Still, there was one silver lining. If two people had already gotten it—there was still a chance for Ian to snag Hero's Heart too.
"Phew..."
Ian let out a short breath, closed the book, and scanned the other shelves.
There were still a few essential boons left for tackling the Labyrinth.
But before that, he needed to check something else first.
His own boon.
Queen's Toy.
He had to see if it was registered anywhere. If it was, maybe he'd learn some hidden abilities.
Ian murmured the name to himself and slowly walked deeper into the shelves.
How long had he wandered the library? No matter how hard he looked, there was no trace of the Queen's Toy boon.
"Figured as much."
Just like Arcia had said, it must be an unregistered engraving—no records left behind.
Ian ventured deeper into the library, flipping through a few more books.
And after searching for a good while...
"...What the hell is that?"
Ian's steps halted.
Between the shelves not far away, something black-red was moving slowly.
At first, he thought it was a shadow from the lanterns.
But no.
It definitely had a form.
Yet strangely, it wouldn't come into focus. Like someone had slapped a mosaic filter over it—the outlines were smeared and blurry.
He could see it, but not really see it.
"Some kind of... bug?"
Ian lowered his voice without realizing.
This place was the mental world created by the boons' shelves—a space for reading records, not bumping into things.
But that was clearly there.
The black-red thing slithered slowly between the shelves like a gliding shadow. No way to tell if it even had feet, but it made no sound on the floor.
Gulp.
Ian swallowed unconsciously.
He took one step forward, very cautiously.
The black-red thing still had its back to him—or whatever passed for a back. Front and back were impossible to distinguish amid the twisted shape.
Then suddenly.
It stopped.
The sounds around him seemed to stop too.
Cold sweat trickled down Ian's spine.
Slowly. Very slowly.
It turned toward him.
"......"
Ian held his breath.
The part that should have been a face was mosaicked too—completely unrecognizable.
Yet it was watching.
Definitely. Precisely.
Watching him.
No eyes, no mouth, no nose—yet that gaze felt unnaturally sharp.
Like someone peering out from an empty void, straight into him. Under his skin. Through his thoughts.
"Ha@#@$"
It seemed to open its mouth.
Noisy static leaked out—half like a human voice, half like wringing wet meat.
Ian grimaced.
"...What?"
Again.
"Who@#%#@$..."
Still gibberish.
But somehow, he could feel it straining to communicate. That much was crystal clear.
Kki-gee-gik.
The black-red thing slowly tilted its head.
The motion was so sluggish it was even creepier. Like a curious human... or a broken doll's neck being forced to turn.
Ian's instincts screamed—back away.
He took one step back.
Ominous. Too ominous.
It froze. As if it understood his reaction.
After standing still for a moment, its surface writhed.
The black-and-red tangled body rippled like waves.
The black-red thing looked like it was laughing.
On that indistinct face, what might have been a mouth tore open wide.
In that instant, it lunged at Ian.
"Gah!"
Too fast.
The sluggish movements from before were a lie—it closed the distance in a blink.
Ian had no time to dodge. It slammed right into him.
A cold something crawled over his skin, sensation flooding his whole body.
"W-What the fuck are you!"
Ian shuddered and tried to shove it off, but his hands grasped nothing.
It clung tight, yet slipped away untouchable. Solid form, but sliding through his fingers like liquid.
Like living fluid, it flowed over his body—wrapping his shoulders, coiling his waist, gripping his arms.
Then slowly, obsessively, it began groping every inch of him.
"Stop...!"
Gooseflesh erupted. Every cold, slick crawl over his skin made his body quake involuntarily.
Ian gritted his teeth and thrashed.
But he couldn't shake it.
It burrowed deeper instead.
Suddenly, something seized his jaw and forced it open.
"Mmph...!"
Something slithered into his mouth. Cold, bizarre, alive.
It slid down his throat.
"Guhk!"
Air choked off.
Ian's eyes widened in panic.
In that moment.
The world shook violently once more.
Shelves warped with creaks; the library fractured like cracked glass. Ceiling, floor, endless shelves—all split with fissures.
Bit by bit, the world crumbled.
And then.
The noisy voice cleared suddenly.
"Ian..."
The black-red thing called his name, almost regretfully.
"Hah... hah..."
Ian was back in the temple before he knew it.
Wondering what the hell that thing had done, he checked his body. One hand felt a bit damp, but nothing else seemed off.
"What is this? Sweat?"
A nagging unease lingered in his chest.
At the end, it had definitely said his name.
"Are you alright?"
Riel, still beside him, tilted her head slightly.
Ian glanced at her, then nodded.
"...Yeah. I'm fine."
Her cheeks were faintly flushed.
"Did you finish checking the Boons' Ledger?"
Riel smiled softly, as if nothing had happened.
Ian thought for a moment, eyeing the altar where the book had been.
"Yeah. I... checked everything."
More like he'd seen more than he bargained for.
But he'd confirmed what he needed, more or less.
No way was he diving back in there, though.
"That's a relief."
Riel spoke to him, but her gaze lingered on his hand.
"So, heading out now?"
She sounded a touch wistful.
"Yeah, got preparations to make."
Ian planned to re-enter the Labyrinth tomorrow.
"What a shame, then..."
She trailed off, extending her hand.
A farewell gesture, maybe...?
Ian eyed her hand, hesitating.
She'd been oddly fixated on hands since earlier.
As he wavered—
Knock knock.
A knock at the door.
Riel's eyes flickered with brief regret.
But she withdrew her hand smoothly, like nothing happened.
"Come in."
The door opened, and a young nun peeked in.
"Sister Riel, service is starting soon."
"Yes, just a moment, please."
After replying to the girl, Riel turned back to Ian.
The strange tension from before vanished like a dream; she smiled gently again.
"...What a shame, Ian. Hope we meet again soon."
Even in farewell, her eyes stayed on his hand.
She left with the young nun.
The brief storm passed, and Ian exited the temple.
What that thing in the library was, why Riel obsessed over hands—no answers yet.
But now wasn't the time to dwell.
Tomorrow was the Labyrinth's last open day.
Once he went in, he wouldn't come out for a while.
Ian hit the markets, buying essentials.
A short spear.
A small shield for emergencies.
Emergency rations for days.
A few other necessities.
"This should do it."
Preparations complete, Ian adjusted his bag.
One thing left.
Find a new party member.
"Wish I could solo it..."
But no dice.
To last days in the Labyrinth, combat was tough, but he needed someone to watch his back while sleeping.
Ian already had someone in mind.
He'd meet her tomorrow.
The thought made Arcia's absence ache all the more.
That night, for the first time since arriving in this world, Ian fell asleep properly—without passing out.