The Summoner of ■■ (38)
I advanced through a space that held nothing at all.
After walking for what felt like forever, I arrived in a world drained of every color, painted entirely in ash-gray no matter where I looked.
I stood beneath that world. It was the very sight I had grown so sick of, the one I never wanted to see again.
"This again..."
The moment my eyes confirmed it, I knew this was a dream. Had Lee Se-rin pulled another one of her stunts? Even while sleeping, exhaustion crashed over me, and I frowned without thinking.
Squeeze.
"...?"
I tried to lift a hand to press against my throbbing head, only to realize someone was holding it.
When I opened my eyes and looked down, I saw a tiny child whose head barely reached my waist. She was standing on tiptoe, straining with everything she had so she wouldn't lose her grip on my hand.
"Ugh... uuu..."
I simply watched her struggle. The little girl looked up at me with a teary face.
Reaching that high must have been exhausting. Her pure, almost painfully endearing expression stirred a protective instinct I couldn't suppress, and my hand dropped on its own.
"Hehe..."
Now able to hold it properly, the child beamed and wrapped her maple-leaf-small hand tightly around mine, as if swearing she would never let go. I sighed.
"What's the concept this time?"
"...?"
She tilted her head with perfect innocence. My brow furrowed. They say a promising sprout shows itself from the first leaf—no matter how young she looked, I could still see Lee Se-rin in her.
More precisely, Lee Se-rin tailored to my tastes.
First of all, there was no way I would dream of that woman, and no way a fabricated form would include her childhood self. All of this had to be her handiwork.
Irritation surged, but I didn't let go. When she threw this kind of open tantrum, it was almost always after something had happened.
Is it because of the blocked line of sight...?
From what I'd tested, the space Haze created was closer to the gap between spaces than anything else.
It wasn't completely cut off from this world, yet it wasn't fully connected either—which meant I had slipped outside Lee Se-rin's view of the world.
In other words, I now had a way to evade the eyes of that monster I once thought impossible to escape.
That was an achievement beyond words. At the same time, it was my blunder.
I planted unnecessary wariness in her.
I hadn't meant to, but from a certain angle it looked like I had deceived the contract.
She might start wondering whether I would keep using these little tricks to slip out of her sight forever. Whether maintaining the contract was still the right call.
I had forced those doubts and suspicions into her mind.
From her perspective, tearing up the contract or demanding a new one wouldn't be strange at all.
Thanks to that I had protected the secrets of the Book of Summoning and the Book of Combination, but the result was that the protection which had kept me safe in this damned world—and given me so many conveniences—might vanish.
I had already planned to talk it through properly once I woke up. And now this.
My plans were already going off the rails, and a sigh escaped me. The oppressive surroundings only made the fatigue feel twice as heavy.
This was exactly why I couldn't stand Transcendents and gods.
Couldn't they just play among themselves at their own level? I genuinely couldn't understand why they enjoyed watching the little people below them.
"..."
"...Tch."
My expression must have looked thoroughly rotten, because the child's face visibly darkened. She started fidgeting, glancing at me as if she had done something wrong.
I considered shaking her hand off, but didn't. I simply didn't care. If she wanted to follow, fine. Having sworn myself to indifference and non-interference, I started walking.
Watching her take so many extra steps just to match my stride, a memory from my previous life flickered past.
The world had ended, yet humans—true to the saying that they are animals of adaptation—still shared love amid the madness.
Some treated people like tools just to vent piled-up lust. Some sold their bodies to survive. Others, precisely because the situation was so dangerous, followed their survival instincts and left offspring behind.
Irresponsible bastards playing with emotions without a thought for the aftermath tossed those pitiful children one by one into a ruined world where even tomorrow was uncertain.
Surviving hell only turns you into a demon in the end.
That was why her behavior disgusted me even more. The children I had seen in my previous world were never this innocent.
The pure and kind ones had already been swept away by the first storm and become cold corpses long ago. All that remained was pure evil.
Deceiving, betraying, killing, stealing... surviving in such ugliness and filth, then leaving that legacy behind—what exactly had they wanted to see?
I never received an answer to that question. I didn't want to know, and midway through I stopped trying. I simply prayed with all my heart that the nightmare would end even a little sooner.
Children are the future itself. So what, then, were the children born into a world already doomed to destruction?
Forced to become adults too soon, they only grew more vicious, until they were nothing but demons wearing children's skins.
It was chaos itself. The only thing you could trust was yourself. Show weakness and you got torn apart. In a world of starving carnivores, the first to be eaten were the weakened fools.
In a world where taking someone else's things was easier than creating anything, there could be no future.
In that sense, I—who had survived to the very end—could fairly be called the ultimate gu-poison: every malice in the jar called the world boiled down into one concentrated toxin.
Perhaps reflecting that mental image of mine, the scenery around us became a frenzied festival of slaughter. Unidentifiable roars—screams or battle cries—echoed. Mocking it all, they wet their mouths with blood instead of wine and lusted after meat.
Just looking at it made curses rise in my throat. It was nauseating, then downright foul. So I loaded the pistol in my pocket and put holes in their heads. That should air things out a little.
It was only a dream. A pointless act. Still, I did it. Just as my previous self had always done—cleaning up filth with the same mindset as picking up trash on the roadside.
No reason. No grand cause. I simply wanted to. And that world allowed it.
One by one I cleared the filth away. Whether lucky or unlucky, my body had been steeped in bizarre experiments until I could no longer die no matter how many times I was killed. I felt no pain, not even sensation. The cause was unknown.
I could only sense, instinctively, that I was forcibly drawing on my future lifespan.
Lucky to have survived?
Yeah. That was right. I had been lucky.
In a world where a normal person like me shouldn't have survived, I had managed—though far from intact—to keep my mind and last until the end. There was no other way to explain it except pure luck.
In that sense, perhaps what the god of that world had wanted was pure malice—material to make the saint named Ban Taewung stand out.
What actually emerged was a mutant slightly less insane than the rest of the lunatics: an irregular through and through.
In a world where only taking, lusting, killing, and violating remained, the thing that got boiled down was this pathetic specimen. Even the god who opened the lid must have been speechless.
But fuck, what did that have to do with me?
As a rational person who had lived in the 21st century, I would rather bite my tongue and die than be lumped together with those filthy things that had discarded all dignity and humanity and become no different from beasts.
No—before that, wouldn't I have simply slaughtered every last one of those bastards who looked at me and thought "kin"?
Because if I accepted them as my kind, it would be an insult to those who had maintained their humanity and served as models of virtue.
That, above all, I could never tolerate.
After deciding I had cleaned up every filthy thing in sight, the next thing I did was kill myself. Because in their eyes I was clearly a madman.
Someone who treated human lives as lightly as insects couldn't possibly be normal. At best I could only mimic a sane person.
This was all that remained after surviving on their lives. How shameful.
So I willingly chose to fall into hell. I said goodbye with a promise to drink our fill if we met again after death, but unfortunately I couldn't keep that promise.
Those who had gladly given their lives for others would never fall into the same hell as me.
Even if an afterlife existed and we somehow met, I wouldn't have the courage to look them in the eye—I would be too ashamed.
Suicide is unfilial, so even if my actions weren't judged pure evil, I would surely end up in hell.
With the world in that state, only the most primitive methods remained, but time was all I had left, so I carried them out steadily.
All I wanted was peace. After suffering and suffering until I finally died, they reincarnated me without even asking my opinion.
Just thinking about it again made my blood boil.
If they ordered the wrong thing they should have requested a recall or a refund. Forcing someone who didn't want it to bow his head was exactly why I was thrashing around like this.
Thud.
I lay down in a suitable spot, following the traces of the past.
The thick layer of ash behind me was soft enough that my back didn't hurt. How much had piled up?
The little girl hesitated, then lay down beside me. My already sticky clothes clung even tighter.
Sweat from moving around was part of it, but finding a spot on my body without blood was faster, so the iron stench was overwhelming.
The oppressiveness grew worse. I had already taken off my mask, so why was breathing still so hard?
"This should be enough."
"...Really?"
For the first time the child spoke. Her voice was hoarse, as if she hadn't used it in a long time—or as if she had just woken up and was forcing her vocal cords to work.
Even so, it was unmistakably childlike, giving the impression of a sleepy tantrum.
"Is this really enough?"
"It's already over. What more do you want me to do?"
"It's a dream, so wishing for something a little happy should be fine."
I snorted at that. A happy dream? What even was happiness? Falling asleep without a single thought or worry—wasn't that happiness?
At the very least I could declare that exhausting myself mentally with this kind of bullshit was nowhere near happiness.
"...Did you hate it?"
"Shooting a gun after so long wasn't particularly good or bad, but right now it feels like shit."
The blood smell was secondary. This inexplicable oppressiveness and stuffiness were what I couldn't stand. If it hurt enough to kill me I could at least accept that someone was trying to murder me, but the subtle suffocation only raised my discomfort and irritation.
At first I thought it was the sweat-soaked clothes clinging to me, but once my whole body was soaked in blood I realized that wasn't it.
Yeah. It felt exactly like someone was sitting on top of me, crushing me down.
...Then the answer was simple. I turned my gaze sideways, scooped the child—who looked blissfully happy with her face buried in my neck—into my arms, and pinned her head in place with my hand. That should keep her from moving.
"...?"
She was briefly puzzled by my sudden action, then started squirming urgently when she saw me raise the loaded gun.
Because it was a child's body, no matter how she struggled she couldn't escape my arms. The trigger under my finger clicked as it was pulled.
"Ah..."
Bang!!!
A noise loud enough to burst eardrums, and a head exploded. My vision flipped rapidly and my eyes closed against my will.
Blink.
When I opened them again, the familiar ceiling of my room greeted me. I slowly exhaled and caught the faint, sweet citrus scent.
Looking down, I saw the crown of a head with white-gold hair glittering in the dim blue light of early dawn. And my hand still tightly gripping that crown so it couldn't escape.
I knew it.
I had exercised a privilege, so of course she would come to collect the price—but every time she pulled these not-quite-jokes, my body couldn't take it.
Seeing the exact same posture I had taken in the dream without the slightest difference, I let out a heavy sigh and loosened my grip.
Only then did the white-gold head slowly lift, golden pupils curving beautifully as they met mine.
"...Is this fun for you?"
"Hihihi."
She stuck out her tongue slightly and smiled as if caught in a naughty prank. It was thoroughly infuriating.
From the clothes disheveled by sleep to every single one of those gestures—they were all traps meant to seduce me. A short amusement so she could enjoy whatever reaction I showed.
What the hell did she think human emotions were? I was thoroughly sick of it.
If that damned god had marked Ban Taewung as the game's protagonist, then this woman was basically copying that and using me for her own entertainment.
The scale of the trouble was different, but the way she inconvenienced others for her own sake was exactly the same. No—because she interfered directly, she was far worse.
How could I screw her over? No matter how hard I thought, there was no answer.
So I just stopped thinking. Having overworked my body even in the dream, my head throbbed as if I had a vicious hangover without drinking a drop.
Judging by how she had gone out of her way to come here, she really didn't like that I had overstayed and slipped out of her sight.
I roughly pushed back the bangs stuck to my forehead with cold sweat and completely relaxed my body.
I wanted nothing more than to fall asleep again right then. Odds were high I would have the same dream. Maybe even a worse one. On a weekend, of all times. What a goddamn mess.
"Would you like breakfast first? Or a shower? Or... me?"
"...Isn't that line usually said to someone who's just come home?"
How did she even know that, anyway? It was such a cliché it only got used as joke material these days. Since she could freely manipulate my dreams, had she read my memories after all?
Fucking hell. Next summon I should look for something that can raise mental barriers.
Unintentionally my to-do list had grown again, and the irritation was endless. But even expressing it felt like too much work, so I just kept sighing heavily.
In the middle of finding even dealing with her tiresome, the image of little Se-rin from the dream floated up. I stretched out my arms and pulled her—who had been carefully adjusting so our bodies barely touched—fully into my embrace.
Somehow it ended up looking like I had gone from using her as a pillow to hugging a body pillow.
"Kyaah...!"
Even though she could easily push me away, she deliberately made a nasal sound and snuggled in, openly rubbing her ample chest against me. That cheap act made me want to throw her out of my arms immediately, but I bit my tongue and forced the violent rejection down.
Instead of letting her escape, I hugged her even tighter with the resolve to crush her bones and kill her. Remembering that I had actually died once this way made me shudder for no reason.
It had been a dream then, so waking up ended it. This was reality. Endure. Stuff the killing intent down. What I needed right now was rest.
"Oh my? Have you finally gotten in the mood? Are you lusting after this body I've polished and prepared just for you?"
"...Shut up and just go to sleep."
I buried her chattering mouth against my chest. That should quiet her a little.
Mumble mumble.
It wasn't completely useless—I couldn't hear anything above murmuring. But she started her usual antics: deliberately breathing lukewarm air or sucking on my clothes until they were wet with drool.
Fuck, she's not even a real kid...
Did she think that would make me let go?
I was putting up with the rising nausea just so I could rest a little longer. So for once, do what I want.
Tap, tap.
In that position I quietly patted Se-rin's back. Little by little, slowly, at regular intervals.
Forcing my breathing to slow and matching the leisurely rhythm of my heartbeat, I kept repeating it. Hoping she would lose to boredom and fall asleep just like this, I didn't fight the drowsiness gradually closing my eyes and simply accepted it.
Squeeze!
"Guh...?!"
I could have sunk into deep sleep if someone hadn't bitten down hard on my neck. Not once, but twice she had interrupted my rest.
I couldn't take it anymore. I grabbed her throat with enough force to snap it. The impact completely tore open the already wounded flesh, and blood streamed down.
My heart was racing with rage, so it flowed freely. Using the sight of the pure-white sheets turning red as fuel, I tightened my grip further.
But instead of looking pained, the woman pouted her lips and started sulking.
"...That's mean. You suddenly act all gentle and make my heart race, then try to fall back asleep by yourself."
If you only listened to the words, it was nothing more than a lover's complaint. The problem was that we weren't lovers, and whether her heart raced or not was none of my business.
"Fuck, then what the hell do you want me to do!!!!"
Perhaps because I had just dreamed of my previous life, the long-severed rage poured out in full force.
I recklessly drew up mana and strengthened the hand choking her. Not satisfied with that, I pinned her beneath me and crushed her with my entire body weight.
Crunch, snap!
A sound that should never come from a human body rang out. It came from my body, not hers. My body couldn't withstand the mana I had wrung out to the limit, and a muscle tendon tore.
As the strength in my grip began to loosen against my will, I immediately used shadows to compensate.
Even faced with that fierce hostility, the monster wearing a woman's shell smiled. She smiled more lewdly and more heatedly than ever before.
As if the distorted reflection of me in those empty golden eyes was the most adorable thing in the world, she flushed and narrowed her eyes. She reached out and cupped my face.
I bit down hard enough to tear off the thumb that brushed my lips, but she only pushed her finger deeper into my mouth as if she didn't care.
"Aaah, that's it. Clash against me a little more. Pour as much attention into me as I give you."
Ptooey.
Revulsion made my hair stand on end. I roughly slapped away the finger invading my mouth and bound her hands.
"You crazy bitch...! This isn't attention—it's killing intent that wants to murder you!!"
"Ahaha! That doesn't matter. What's important is that right now, this very moment, your head is completely full of me."
She was insane.
There was no other way to put it.
Could she really say something like that even while dying with a knife in her heart? I couldn't tell whether the question came from competitive spirit or from the despair of realizing the gap between us could never be closed.
No matter what I did, she only reacted with detachment, so only I was wasting emotion. I was thoroughly sick of it.
What the hell was I supposed to do? What did I have to do for this woman to hate me? I couldn't stand how badly I wanted to kill the monster in front of me who kept disturbing my peace.
"...Haa."
I was tired. Lethargic. Why, why did I have to suffer because of this abnormal thing? I felt depressed. I released the strength from the hand choking her.
It hurt. Even moving was hard. Of course it was—my muscle had torn. I was lucky the pain stopped at this level.
Should I thank the system for not treating this masochistic act as self-harm and not applying the effects of Sadism and Torture?
"Ha, hahaha..."
The sheer absurdity of even thinking that made laughter spill out. As I lay limp, I felt someone stroking my head. Nausea rose, but I didn't have the strength to push it away.
My face was enveloped in something soft. With every breath the sweet citrus scent sticky-sweetly violated my brain.
My body rejected it so hard goosebumps rose, but my mind, on the contrary, gradually grew hazy and gave up on thinking. Wouldn't it be fine to just accept it like this? That thought boiled up from beneath a thick sense of defeat.
Ssshh.
A soft hand touched my neck. Whether it brushed the wound or not, a stinging heat spread. My mind cleared a little and my head lifted.
When my unfocused eyes finally managed to focus, I saw the monster blissfully licking her blood-stained fingers. Look at that. In the end this monster only saw me as prey.
She would play with me until her interest ran out, then savor the tasty parts while I was still alive. Using my screams and despair as background music for her feast.
"Fufu, frustrating, isn't it? Does the helplessness of being able to do nothing make your teeth grind? Do you want to kill me that badly?"
Was she planning to mock me now, of all times? Ridiculous. Unfazed by my cold stare, Se-rin continued.
"I'll make you one proposal. Ah, in this case should I call it a 'request'?"
Because of the contract, that would be correct. So saying, the monster smiled, her lips stained with my blood making her look even more alluring.
"Hold me."
Until I die of happiness.
With those words the monster smiled, eyes glistening with moisture.