Episode 93: The Fan Death Myth
There's this thing called the Fan Death myth. The creepy tale goes that if you fall asleep with a fan running in a sealed room, you'll wake up dead—or rather, never wake up at all. It was once such a big deal in Korea that it even made the 9 o'clock news. Parents with young kids lost their minds over reports that sleeping with a fan on could kill you.
"Aigoo! How are we supposed to live like this—it's terrifying!"
"No fans at night! Turn it on and you'll die!!!"
Scared to death of losing their kids, they banned fans even in the sweltering summer heat. The whole nation took the fan death myth seriously. Kids would even lock themselves in their rooms after fights with their parents and crank up the fan.
"Don't come in! I'm turning on the fan and dying for real!"
Sealed windows tight, waiting for death in front of the whirring blades... well, as everyone guessed, they all woke up fine the next morning.
That's right. Fan death is just an urban legend. Logically, a fan can't create the kind of environmental change that kills a person. But because it was on the news, Korean adults believed in Fan Death hook, line, and sinker.
Can't you just test it? Sure, but what if it's true? You'd end up a corpse after the experiment. That's why the myth lingered. Urban legends are comedy from the outside, tragedy from within.
The Tomato Death Myth spreading through the northern Holy Empire was just like that. A priest ate tomatoes imported from the south and dropped dead for some reason. The exact cause was unknown, but the priests around him pinned it on the tomatoes.
"He ate tomatoes and died, right?!"
"We must educate the people about this!"
The priests rushed to teach farmers that tomatoes were a "crop that kills if eaten." If some brave farmer had tested it, the lie would've been exposed. But no farmer wanted to risk their life verifying a priest's word.
Curiosity has always equaled a one-way ticket to heaven—meeting the Lord up close.
"So, eating this kills you?"
"Yes! It's dangerous—don't even go near it!"
Tomatoes were a hot crop down south in the Coral Sea that no one could get enough of. Swordmaster Salvador, a southerner, would've laughed his ass off at the absurdity. Why mass-produce a crop that kills eaters? But northerners believed the Tomato Death Myth dead seriously.
...Which is how assassins ended up buying tomatoes for hits.
"Heh heh... Off to hell with you, blabbermouth Takarion!"
And that was why Takarion's assassins were brewing tomato soup.
Finally eating under a roof again, but Ian felt no particular thrill. He'd long since grown numb to medieval grub. Probably another salt-grilled whatever. Grill it, steam it, boil it. Sprinkle salt. Boom—gourmet medieval feast! Easy, right?
This barbaric style was straight out of modern Europe too. Bread, meat, some veggies—grill, steam, boil... eat. Steak's the poster child: grilled to artistry, but basically buttered meat. Toss on asparagus and done. Even monks prized simple meals as virtue. Sister Miionia's free-spirited vibe suggested otherwise, but could it top noble feasts?
Ian had been crashing at Drbosi Castle not long ago—a prosperous spot where they'd even dusted meals with pepper.
This dinner was at a merchant's house, where Sister Miionia was bunking.
"Not much, but eat up!"
The host groveled, serving the food. The monks buzzed in shock.
"What kind of dish is this?"
"Broth red as blood... how bizarre."
Not just hype—the merchant's dish was weird. Soup with blood-red broth!
"Smells fine, though."
Not even Belenca or Kira knew what the red soup was. Only the merchant, Sister Miionia, and Ian did.
...Tomato?
Ian sipped a bit. Sour tang hit his tongue.
Whoa...!
Tomato soup, no doubt. After nearly twenty years, that fresh, tangy coolness nearly brought tears. Tomatoes! Essential for burgers, their umami punch pairs perfectly with meat. After endless gamey slop, this eye-opener hit different.
Yes! You medieval folks—meat alone ain't it. Pair it with real veggies!
Just seeing the soup had Ian hyped for the main. Merchants know their stuff—fancy ingredients for clergy guests!
That's when—
Thud!
Someone shoved back their chair. Sister Miionia.
"What's wrong, Sister?"
The merchant smiled at her. Miionia was horrified.
That's... tomato soup?! Trying to kill everyone here?!
Shoulders shaking, she glared stone-faced at the merchant.
"What... the hell is this?"
"Pardon?"
"Serving this to everyone here? You think... that's right?!"
The monks tilted heads at her outburst. The merchant stayed cool.
"Gotta serve all, right? Special treatment for one looks suspicious."
"...I see."
Miionia's voice sank. Betrayed by the assassins. Sure, the abbess blackmailed her into this, but she wouldn't stand for massacre.
This was a massacre! Tomato soup for all?! Horrific!
Takarion chuckled awkwardly.
"Sister, why the sudden—"
Then Miionia flipped Takarion's bowl.
"Gah!"
"S-Sister?!"
"Everyone, stop eating! That soup's poisoned!"
"What?!"
"Poison?!"
Ptooey!
Ian spat frantically. Poison? Shit, he tasted it. Okay?
"Foolish."
The merchant gestured. Armed thugs swarmed in.
"Miionia. Wasn't 'no betrayal' that hard?"
"Following a mass murderer like you is ten times harder!"
The merchant smirked, advancing. Swords pinned the monks still.
"Heh heh... No choice. I'll send you to the Lord first."
"You... vile scum!"
The merchant offered her something. Ian blinked.
"Coral Sea deadly nightshade. Eat."
"Guh...!"
Deadly nightshade? Didn't look it. It was... a tomato.
"Come on, eat!"
"The Lord sees your sins!"
"Hahaha! Eat, Miionia!"
Miionia shook her head desperately. Looked like a picky kid to Ian...
Shit tangled again.
Ian calmed, assessing. Invited to dinner by the nun, but this was an assassin den. Only one target: Takarion.
But drawing swords means they planned to off us too.
Proof: the tomato soup before him.
...
Ian scooped more, focusing. Recalled his chat with herbalist Mani.
'You'll forage greens in the woods—here's a spell to detect plant poisons.'
'Oh, magic?'
Veteran Mani taught him plant poison detection. Useless till now, but perfect here.
...As expected.
No poison in the soup. Just tasty tomato brew. Maybe some unknown toxin, but tomatoes were safe.
Ian glanced around. Belenca pinned by blades. Kira less watched—could wreak havoc if he created an opening.
"Fine, Miionia. Eat the poison yourself, and the rest live."
"R-Really?!"
The assassin grinned sleazily.
"Of course."
Lie. Just a cheap trick to make her suicide. No choice for the desperate.
"...Okay. I'll eat."
Miionia sighed. Better this way. Blackmailed or not, she'd dirtied her holy hands. Atoning with her life? Fine. She served the Lord, after all.
She gripped the "poison" (tomato). Hands trembled. Belenca tensed to lunge. Ian messaged quick.
[Wait.]
"...?"
Belenca didn't get it—she was illiterate. But she sensed Ian's plan.
Ian breathed deep, opening his mouth. Time for Mage Mode.
"Can't listen to this nonsense anymore."
His voice filled the room. Assassins, Miionia—all froze, staring.
"What're you?"
They had no clue who Ian was—or his crew. Figured noble kids tagging along on pilgrimage.
So when Ian stood, no biggie.
"Sit down now or—"
"Lower the sword."
Ian locked eyes with the swordsman. Mage voices carry iron will—peerless persuasion.
"Wh-What?!"
"Lower it. Gonna stab someone? Murderer?"
"..."
The thug met Ian's gaze and zoned out. Frequent mystery contact made Ian's eyes gleam with indescribable madness. Weak souls quaked just looking.
"N-No, sir..."
Honorifics slipped out. Ian's mystic aura, that intangible pressure, demanded it.
Ian brushed him aside, facing the assassin.
"Some noble brat, huh? Still bleeds the same. Shut up and sit if you wanna live."
Ian stayed chill. Farmer's son, after all.
"You said poison for their lives? Then I'll eat it."
"!!!"
"!!!"
Monks gasped.
"No, Lord Ian! What are you saying?!"
"Absolutely not!!!"
"Let me! I'll take it!"
Stunned by his outburst, deeply moved. Sacrificing for others... holy martyrdom!
But Ian? No sacrifice in mind. Just tomatoes. Goal: distract, disrupt focus. Classic mage showmanship.
"Uh, uhh..."
Takarion fidgeted like he needed the john. Wanted to "sacrifice" cool-like, but tongue-tied.
"No! What nonsense!"
Miionia panicked at Ian stepping up. Noble pilgrim kid sacrificing himself?! (Nope.)
Ian placated her with BS.
"It's a believer's duty to step up for the faithful."
"Ah...!"
Miionia's eyes welled. Lip-service faithful everywhere, but real action? Rare. Such pure devotion... Her inner darkness lifted a bit.
"But...!"
"If you pray for me, Sister, maybe a miracle saves me."
"..."
"Please, pray for me."
Ian smiled. Miionia burst into tears.
Sacrifice ain't easy to shout. With Ian volunteering, she couldn't insist on dying. She'd pray instead.
"I... I'll... sob! Yes! I'll pray!"
"Brother Ian!"
"Sniff! Me too! For you, brother!"
Monks wept in unison.
...Ian got awkward. Anyone'd think he was off to die. But nah—he wasn't.
Just needed to pull aggro.
"You'll take the poison?"
"Yeah."
"Hahaha. Never seen a bigger fool. Fine, eat if you want."
Assassin allowed it easy. Planned to kill everyone anyway—Takarion included. One less sin? Bonus. And offing such a pious guy felt iffy.
Ian stood before him. Assassin eyed eagerly. Fun showtime. Proof of tomato lethality up close.
"Heh heh. No regrets? Can still back out."
Ian grinned, grabbing a tomato. Bit hard.
"...!"
"...!"
Miionia clapped hand over mouth. Frail monks sniffled.
"For us... the sacrifice...!"
"Oh Ian... are you truly a saint...!"
Whatever. Ian chomped away. Damn good grower—whoever it was.
Pure nectar.
Grabbed another.
"Gasp!"
"Two... two of them...!"
"Stop! You'll really die!"
Monks wailed. Ian's selflessness? Heart-wrenching. Room became a sob-fest again.
Assassin smirked at the idiocy.
Heh. So eager to die. Smart not to touch him!
Die already, moron!
Ian ignored, popping the third.
Still tasty.
Assassins sensed off vibes.
...Huh?
Why ain't he dead???
Three death plants down???
Ian smirked.
Tomatoes don't kill.
"Wondering why I'm still kicking?"
Nods. They gawked, mesmerized. Rare spectacle—priceless even for pay. Even Belenca/Kira's guards stared!
Now!
Snap!
"It's all thanks to Kira's fireworks!"
Assassins blinked. Fireworks? What?
Kira got it. Showtime!
"[O Flames!]"
⟨ Fireworks ⟩
Lightning shout—Kira launched. Guards, soul-snatched by Ian's act, too slow.
BOOM! Fireworks erupted fountain-like. Thugs flinched back, hearts pounding.
But harmless sparkles—no lethality.
Guards retreated... Black Knight drew!
Silver flash—head sailed through air.
Belenca with longsword.
Assassin gaped at headless minions. Unreal chain: fairy prank?
"What... are you?!"
Ian melted into shadows.
"A mage. Ian."
But no fairy trick—mage illusion.