Chapter 153
Chapter 153
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 153
Chapter Title: Bursting with Grief
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The information I'd heard from the man hooked on that meat hook was extremely valuable.
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>The guy I'd killed hadn't come here on a jeweler's commission.
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>He was just a thief who'd snuck in to steal from the mansion.
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>On top of that, he wasn't even an Earthling like us, and his target hadn't been the seal ring—it was some soul extractor hidden somewhere in the mansion.
At any rate, he'd shared details about the different time periods tangled up in this place.
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>From what he'd pieced together, the mansion was a chaotic mix of four distinct eras.
'Let's see... In chronological order: the patriarch era, where I expect we'll get the ring; the cannibal era, where we need the clock winder; the modern era, which seems to have an exit; and the future era, overrun with those bipedal freaks.'
Judging by appearances, the time period our group had landed in was after the doll-puppeteer patriarch had died in some incident.
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>That meant it was the era when the cannibal family had claimed the now-empty mansion and started subjecting visitors to all sorts of atrocities.
'He also told me to find the grandfather clock hidden somewhere in the mansion if I wanted to move freely between its time periods.'
According to the man, activating the grandfather clock would let you randomly jump to one of the other three time periods—the ones you weren't currently in.
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>So, our first priority was tracking down that clock somewhere in the mansion.
The problem was that to operate the grandfather clock, we'd need the winder handle from this cannibal-infested era.
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>If I'd cluelessly activated the pocket watch and jumped to the modern era, the whole sequence would have gotten screwed up, leaving us with nothing to do but escape.
'Most of those who entered on the jeweler's quest probably ended up in this time period.
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>And anyone like me who'd extracted info through some method is probably hunting for the winder handle right now.'
Of course, there had to be other ways to escape this era besides the grandfather clock, but the man I'd talked to only knew about using the clock.
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>I couldn't afford to waste time experimenting with risky alternatives—not when the clock was a sure thing.
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>So, I decided to stick to that plan.
'And then there are the immortal cannibals...
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>Those monster-like bastards who just won't stay dead.'
There were five of them in total: the family patriarch, his wife, and their three kids.
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>They were probably patrolling in real-time, hunting for mansion intruders, so the best strategy was to find the clock without running into them.
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>Killing them wouldn't stick—they'd just come back. Enshrining them might finish them off for good, but that wasn't an option right now.
'Looks like we need to imprint a phase on the grandfather clock itself, not designate an exit.'
I hadn't realized hunting down the clock winder would turn into a daily grind. Without proper tools or a chance to talk to other humans trapped in the mansion, I figured most people wouldn't make it out alive.
"First, let's find a way out of this room. Baiyu, keep checking the walls. Nick, inspect the ceiling. I'll handle the floor."
"Got it."
"Tch..."
I instructed Baiyu and Nick to search for an exit. I didn't breathe a word about the grandfather clock or any other details. If I wanted to exploit these lunatics as much as possible, I had to keep my knowledge close to the chest.
'Finally, some peace and quiet.'
It was refreshing to see them both keeping their mouths shut for once.
Baiyu, having realized they fought every time they opened their mouths, had zipped his lips like his life depended on it. Nick stuck to exaggerated gestures without raising his voice.
'No more Chinese grumbling... No more endless chatter from Nick... No stress buildup.'
The slaughterhouse was massive, and checking every inch would take time—especially without proper lighting. My eyes were starting to strain in the gloom when Baiyu, who'd been silent up to that point, finally started griping.
"No flashlight? What, you got a dick for one?"
"You didn't even pack that, China-man?"
Baiyu grumbled and fished a tiny lighter from his pocket as Nick and I scolded him in unison. The guy was practically a beggar. Unlike me with my full kit or Nick with his well-prepared essentials, all Baiyu had was some shriveled jerky and a few daggers.
I had zero intention of lending that bum my flashlight—he'd just pocket it. But kind-hearted Nick pulled one from his bag and handed it over.
"Use this at least. Stop whining about your eyes hurting."
"Heh... Acting all generous now."
"Hey, hey. Baiyu, you're the problem here. I told you to quit picking on Nick."
"Hmph."
Baiyu snorted and turned back to his task. Nick shot him an incredulous look before resuming his ceiling search.
'In my eyes, Baiyu ain't no hero...'
His actions, his grubby appearance—nothing about him screamed rival worthy of me. He just seemed... lacking, somehow.
Nick felt more like the hero type, if anything.
'If Nick really is the 777 hero, with luck stats giving him that much correction... he'd probably already know a Cultist—his destined rival—had entered this mansion. Hell, he might even suspect one of his teammates is the Cultist.'
Assuming Nick was the hero and had intel on my level... the guy must be freaking out right now. Probably tearing his hair out wondering if it was me or Baiyu.
'He might even peg Baiyu—the constant shit-talker—as the Cultist... Of course, that's all under the assumption Nick's the real 777 hero.'
Of course, maybe that hobo Baiyu was the hero in disguise, or perhaps some completely unrelated third wheel would pop up out of nowhere.
"Hey. There's a weird groove in the ceiling here."
Nick called out to us, craning his neck like Michelangelo painting the Sistine Chapel.
"What is it? Can you open it?"
"Hold on... If I pull hard... it might open. Someone give me a boost—doesn't matter who."
Even at over 180 cm, taller than me, Nick couldn't quite reach. He asked for a piggyback. Baiyu and I immediately tried shoving the job onto each other.
"What're you doing? Give him a boost already, Baiyu."
"Nah, you do it—you haven't done shit."
"What? I've been searching for a way out."
"You just skimmed the floor and slacked off!"
Damn, busted. That sharp-eyed chink had been watching me on the sly... Creepy as hell.
"So? What of it."
"You fucking shit-eating bastard..."
"What? Say that again. Shit-eater? You little punk..."
"Forget it! I'll do it. You're filthy anyway..."
Baiyu, figuring he couldn't win against me with my info advantage, turned his aggression on Nick instead.
"Hey, you flat-nosed prick. You get down there—I'll take the boost."
"Heh... Fine, whatever."
Nick, indifferent to the drama, knelt and let Baiyu climb on.
"Ngh... This thing... won't fucking budge..."
"Can't do it? What's your strength stat?"
"Fuck... Get down and boost Nick instead. This is frustrating as hell."
"W-wait... It's... about to—huh?"
Baiyu was straining to pull at the ceiling groove when...
Clunk.
The ceiling panel started to shift.
Baiyu got yanked upward for a split second before dropping back. That's right—the entrance didn't pull open. It pushed. Baiyu had been yanking like an idiot, which was why it wouldn't give.
"Sh-shit... We're fucked...! What's trying to come through?!"
"Hold it! Keep pulling—don't let it in!"
"I can't!!! Too strong!!!"
Baiyu's face twisted in panic as he jumped down from Nick's shoulders—he couldn't hold it anymore.
Clang!!! Rumble!!
The entrance flew wide open. No— it got ripped clean off.
"Gahhhh!!! What the hell is that thing?!"
How hard had whatever was up there pulled? Before I could dwell on it, a hulking brute leaped down from the gaping hole—a pig-headed monster straight out of a nightmare.
"Tch...!"
Nick instantly drew one of the three swords from his belt. A soft glow enveloped the blade, flaring brighter by the second. He unleashed a beam of light straight at the pig-headed brute.
It looked just like... a hero wielding a holy sword. And the moment he invoked that power, I felt an unsettling vibe. Yeah, it was that same dissonance you get facing someone with a divine stigma—the mark of a being chosen by the gods...!
'Y-yeah...! It's him...!'
I was on the verge of confirming Nick as the 777 hero when Baiyu, who'd backed off, clasped his hands in prayer and chanted a spell, activating a skill. Another ominous aura washed over me—what the hell?
"Die!!!"
As I reeled in shock, Baiyu's body erupted in light. He charged the brute headfirst. The pig-man took the body slam full-force and tumbled across the floor. Nick rushed in, joining the fray and hacking the monster to pieces.
I stood there, jaw half-dropped, watching the two sync up perfectly. Somehow, both radiated divine stigma energy. The silver lining? Botamilli's blessing concealed my own stigma—the evil gods' mark—from them. As long as it was active, they couldn't even detect I had one. What a relief.
"Kill it!!!"
"Beat its ass!!!"
"Greeeeh!!!"
My mind raced amid the chaos as the maniacs took turns pummeling the brute. I could only gawk dumbly as they turned it into ground meat. Getting cocky and painted as public enemy number one would be a headache...
Yeah, one wrong skill in this mess... If they sniffed out I was a Cultist... No, even just realizing I was from the All-Demons Realm would be game over. Total catastrophe. They might even try to kill me, accounts be damned.
"Hah... hah... Finally got it..."
"Tough son of a bitch..."
"Definitely... Weird-looking thing. Feels like an All-Demons Realm critter. Hey, you looked freaked—you okay?"
Nick grinned and checked on me politely.
'No shit, asshole. You two being Holy Pantheon champs has me panicking like crazy.'
I couldn't say that, so I clapped awkwardly and forced a smile.
"Uh... Yeah, I'm fine. Good work, both of you."
We're screwed.
No matter how I sliced it, this was hopeless. The absolute worst teammates imaginable.
"No big deal. Hey, Baiyu."
"What."
"You too...? Chosen by the holy gods?"
"Me? Yeah... something like that. You?"
"Of course. Champions of the great holy gods. Guess we're on the same side after all."
"Tch... Don't like Americans, but... whatever..."
Nick offered a handshake; Baiyu, feigning nonchalance by rubbing his nose, took it...
'Fuck...'
I felt like I was on pins and needles, no clue what to do. I just scowled at their buddy-buddy vibe...
"So... What's your affiliation? Or none?"
"To make it this far, you can't be some basic class. Gotta be All-Gods Pantheon... or All-Demons Realm..."
Nick and Baiyu grilled me like interrogators. I scrambled for an excuse.
"Uh... Myriad Ghost Realm."
"Oh? The... ancient gods' faction?"
"Y-yeah?"
"Huh... Right."
Nick eyed me suspiciously; Baiyu tilted his head in disbelief. I hurriedly pulled out the potions Hellas had given me and showed them off.
"See? I'm... uh... yeah. An alchemist. Potion-maker type. Combat's not my strong suit."
"Oh... Makes sense. No wonder those weird items looked unfamiliar."
"Hm... Figures. You brewed that communication potion yourself, then."
"Yeah... Pretty much."
"Myriad Ghost Realm's not hostile to us. Let's get along, yeah?"
I shook Nick's hand and nodded. Figures—nothing ever goes my way.
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