A Letter from a Hundred Years Ago (1)
“We prove it.”
Yang Myeonghyun's hands held… nothing at all.
The calluses-free palms suggested he hadn't done any grueling labor before coming here.
He showed me his empty hands, tossing the words out with a careless flick of his voice.
Was it because I was suspicious of him? Regardless of what he said, something about his movements felt contrived, theatrical.
Then again, tools can be hidden away too.
Much like how I'd tucked away a dagger into my Leaflet that I couldn't even use right now.
…Though at this point, I'd really wrung that dagger for all it was worth, so I might as well toss it.
“I honestly can't understand why you'd go out of your way to reveal your Perk.”
“Why is that?”
“…Because this place demands that we hide things from each other.”
“Because I'm simply incapable of hiding even a single thing.”
I was certain of it. He was my grateful benefactor who'd healed me, but that was undoubtedly a lie.
He carried a clean, composed adult's air that sat ill with awkwardness or naivety.
And adults, as a rule, always have at least one thing they keep buried in the dark.
“It may sound absurd, but I find I'm better suited to saving people than to killing them.”
“That's a hard claim to believe in this museum.”
“And yet, Jisan-ssi, I can see the traces of how hard you've tried to avoid handling other people's lives cruelly.”
“…….”
When Yang Myeonghyun pointed at the scar on my ear, I ran out of words.
He'd immediately caught on that I'd won by sacrificing my own flesh.
“I thought it didn't make sense for someone like me—who climbed this tower by trampling over others—to go around trying to help people.”
He knew, all right.
“But it comforts me that there's someone out there as foolish as I am. That's why I told you.”
“…I'm not as pure and kind as you are.”
“No, my mistake. Jisan-ssi is clever.”
Was he a wastrel or a scholar? He was polite and perceptive, yet possessed a strange, unshakable ease about him.
Relaxed composure hardly earns you anything in a survival game like this.
Well, it's not like I'm in any position to worry about someone else.
“How long was I asleep?”
“There's no clock in here, so I couldn't say—but I was exhausted myself, and it seems I slept quite a long while too.”
The wooden floor creaked beneath every step we took.
The space hadn't changed, and there was no guidance whatsoever about the floor or its task.
“Why isn't there any explanation at all? Could it be that we still have some trial left to complete…?”
“Hard to say. I have no idea. I only arrived shortly before you entered this room.”
I see. Well, my strength had recovered. I moved briskly around the room, searching for anything out of the ordinary.
Yang Myeonghyun, who had been watching my restless bustling intently, made a sly proposal.
“If this floor's task turns out to be a group challenge, how about we form an alliance?”
“An alliance, you say…?”
“We find a way to survive together, and we move as one.”
Perhaps because of what had happened to me before, I couldn't bring myself to answer positively right away.
I'll admit Yang Myeonghyun seemed less suspicious than the man I'd met on Floor 3.
“If you find me untrustworthy, then even just for this floor would do.”
“It's not that I find you untrustworthy. Hmm…”
After a man on Floor 3 tried to take my life, it's hard to just up and trust someone.
If this were a space as vast as the Dragon Palace on Floor 3, alliance or not, I would have kept my distance from Yang Myeonghyun.
But this is a narrow room.
With just the two of us locked in here, showing too much hostility was also dangerous.
On balance, I decided it wouldn't hurt to keep my suspicions private while forming an alliance on the surface.
Right—if this floor's quest turns out to be a group mission, having anyone beside me beats going it alone.
“All right then, let's do it together.”
“Ah. What a relief.”
When I nodded, Yang Myeonghyun's expression brightened considerably.
Though even at his most cheerful, his was too somber a face to ever look exactly fresh.
“But haven't you considered the possibility that I might betray you, or that I might simply be a lunatic?”
“I suppose that's possible. But I like your recklessness, Jisan-ssi. I believe it will prove a great help in this place.”
“Cutting off my own ear was… insane, yes. Even I think it was reckless.”
“It was. Extremely reckless.”
“…….”
The man shook his head from side to side as if beholding some marvel. The attitude of a sage who'd seen it all.
“By the way, I'm curious about something.”
“Ask away. I'll answer anything.”
“Why do you call me 'Jisan-ssi'…? How old are you, exactly?”
“Ah, I'm twenty-three this year.”
What—he's just a kid.
It was more than a little absurd for a kid five years my junior to go around calling me “Jisan-ssi.”
Maybe I should tell him to drop that weird title and just call me hyung.
“I'm five years older than you. You should change how you address me.”
“Ah, you're my elder! Then, may I call you Jisan-hyung?”
“…Sure, go ahead.”
Maybe I should have just kept being called “Jisan-ssi,” strange as it sounded.
Even though only the title had changed, it felt like the distance between us had suddenly closed, and it put me on edge.
We were, after all, a temporary alliance between two people who might point weapons at each other at any moment.
But then—
Knock knock knock—
Someone outside the room knocked on the door.
“Who is it?”
“I don't know.”
Even Yang Myeonghyun, who'd been awake this whole time, seemed to be encountering this for the first time.
We both approached the door, but neither of us could bring ourselves to open it.
As we traded glances, the knocking kept echoing through the room.
Knock knock knock—
Knock knock knock—
Knock knock knock—
“…….”
Unable to bear the repeated sound any longer, I opened the door.
A man in a wide-brimmed hat stumbled breathlessly into the room.
A white man with reddish-brown beard and hair.
“Hyung! Why did it take you so long to open the door?! I thought something had happened to you—”
The man caught sight of Yang Myeonghyun and me already inside the room and staggered back a step.
“Who might you two be?”
“Uh—”
That would be my line.
The moment “hyung” had been mentioned, I had a rough idea, but still.
The man tilted his head, then clapped his hands together as if suddenly realizing something.
“Could you be members of the painters' community my brother said he would build…? Of course. A pleasure to meet you!”
?
Yang Myeonghyun, apparently not yet placing who this man was, arched an eyebrow.
The man extended a hand toward us with a bright, open smile.
“I am Theo van Gogh.”
…!
Just as I'd suspected.
After Vincent van Gogh, now I get to meet Theo, the younger brother who was his greatest supporter.
Perhaps because I'd only just woken up, I hadn't properly taken in the room until now.
Countless paintings hanging on the walls, blue-toned wallpaper and yellow wooden furniture.
The faded colors bore the traces of long years.
This was the house Van Gogh had prepared to live in alongside his painter friends.
The room in Arles, the French city, where Van Gogh had lived.
The Bedroom in Arles.
So Floor 10 unfolds around Van Gogh's story too.
The room had been realized exactly as it appeared in the painting where Van Gogh depicted his own bedroom.
Too busy guarding against Yang Myeonghyun, I hadn't managed to appreciate the beauty of these colors.
To think I've stepped inside one of Van Gogh's works twice now. Even if it's a fake, it's moving.
Not that it changes the cruelty of the tower, of course.
“We would be honored if you would help my brother and me make beautiful art blossom here.”
“We're not painters.”
Gah.
Out of nowhere, Yang Myeonghyun blurted out the plain truth without any coordination whatsoever.
When I stared at him in shock, Theo, sensing something off, blinked wide-eyed.
“…Then under whose authority are you inside my brother's house?”
“Well, we each have our own professions, but… in any case, we're visitors climbing the museum.”
“Visitors? You mean you've come to see my brother's paintings?”
Good grief—how did someone that guileless make it all the way to Floor 10?
Yang Myeonghyun's claim that he'd treated my ear before I woke now rang completely true.
It turned out the man didn't have a single flexible bone in his body.
I shot Yang Myeonghyun a sidelong glance, then promptly equipped my most innocent smile and leaned in toward Theo.
“We're friends of Vincent's.”
“I knew it!”
Unlike the Vincent van Gogh I'd met earlier, Theo was a simple NPC who had no idea this world was fake.
He was a system that existed for the sake of the quest, so a plausible enough story would carry us on to the next stage.
So read the room and play along, will you.
I'd thought him a worthwhile ally because I liked his earnest, giving nature.
But being this oblivious is a problem.
Still, when I widened my eyes at him, Yang Myeonghyun belatedly caught on and nodded.
“I'm Kim Jisan. A pleasure.”
“I'm Yang Myeonghyun.”
“Mr. Kim Jisan, Mr. Yang Myeonghyun—welcome to Arles! Haha, I wonder if my brother would have said the same?”
It felt strange indeed to hear our names from Theo's mouth.
Just as with the Curator's speech, Theo's words registered as Korean in my ears.
“Our names come from entirely different countries, and yet he doesn't bat an eye.”
“Either way, it's just a system within the tower.”
I carried on whispering openly with Yang Myeonghyun right in front of Theo.
And yet Theo only kept smiling, hardly listening to our exchange.
“Ah. On your way to Arles, did you happen to see my brother?”
“I did. We even spoke briefly.”
“Ohh, Mr. Yang Myeonghyun! What did you talk about?”
“It was about his paintings.”
So Yang Myeonghyun had met Vincent van Gogh on the way to Floor 10 as well.
He wouldn't have received the bonus Perk of having an artist's spirit possess him, the way I did.
The quests proceed identically for all visitors, after all.
“Vincent van Gogh struck me as tremendously self-centered, and yet a man who yearns for the hearts of others.”
“…That's presumptuous of you, but I can't say you're wrong, Mr. Yang Myeonghyun. Even in the briefest time, my brother is transparent enough to lay his whole soul bare. Isn't that so?”
It could have sounded offensive, but Theo accepted Yang Myeonghyun's words with perfect grace.
Compared to Vincent, Theo was indeed still in a far less emotionally turbulent state.
Perhaps he had kept himself deliberately stable in order to become his brother's supporter.
His brother's supporter, huh…. Right, so that kind of relationship exists too.
“Did you speak with my brother as well, Mr. Kim Jisan?”
“Yes. He asked me… whether I wouldn't like to live here with him forever.”
For some reason, just for this moment, I found myself wanting to pour out my experience with Vincent honestly to Theo, the dependable younger brother.
There was also the matter of checking whether Yang Myeonghyun had received the same offer.
Seems Yang Myeonghyun wasn't asked.
Judging by the expression Yang Myeonghyun wore as he looked at me, it seemed I might be the only one Vincent had approached.
“Oh! If you stay here with my brother, Mr. Kim Jisan, then I have nothing to worry about. Won't you settle in for good?”
“No. Unfortunately.”
“Ah, I see. It would have been wonderful if you and my brother could become a source of inspiration to each other.”
Good grief. This NPC is saying the most preposterous things.
“I couldn't possibly inspire Vincent van Gogh anyway.”
Let alone a genius who could inspire Vincent van Gogh—I wasn't even remotely talented, so companionship was out of the question.
However sweet Vincent's offer may have been, objectively speaking, the inspiration talk was pure nonsense.
I knew exactly how wretched my own skill and talent were.
“That's a real shame. But I believe even a fleeting bond can shine in memory like something eternal.”
“Yes.”
“Then—would you find the letter for me?”
Out of nowhere?
The conversation cut off abruptly and veered into new territory, and it definitely smelled like a quest.
“The letter?”
“Yes. My brother is always losing his letters. But that one letter will be somewhere in this room. It is a very precious letter, you see.”
Having finished his explanation, Theo looked toward the window and straightened his clothes.
“I must be going now. My train leaves soon.”
Hey. You're supposed to give us more hints. That's not nearly enough.
Impatient, I grabbed the hem of Theo's coat as he made to leave.
“Heh heh, Mr. Kim Jisan. That's a rather forceful attitude you have there?”
“About that letter—was it one you sent to Vincent, Mr. Theo?”
“No. It was not one I sent.”
“Then who sent it?”
Theo briskly turned his body and freed his coat from my hand.
Then he lifted his hat politely and offered us a parting greeting.
Theo opened the door and moved to leave the room.
“Well then, I must be off. Good luck to you. Do find that letter.”
“Wait, just a moment! At least tell us roughly when it was sent—the date, anything!”
When I thrust out my hand desperately and pressed him to the last, Theo gave an awkward, embarrassed laugh.
At my persistence, he took a step toward the door and threw out his final words.
“Perhaps… a letter sent roughly a hundred years ago. Do write a reply. You can slip it under the door.”
Thud—
Theo left, and the door to the bedroom closed behind him.