Chapter 128
Chapter 128
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 128
Chapter Title: The Third
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What is memory? Why do humans live burdened with something as flawed as memory?
Some say it's for survival. They claim it's to remember one's condition, let the brain recognize a state of 'health,' distinguish when that's not the case, and respond accordingly. Beyond that, the connection between survival and memory runs incredibly deep.
Others say memory is everything that makes a person. They argue that the values, ethics, and traces of life one must have as a human slowly accumulate from childhood, all melting into memory. That's what they say.
Neither claim was wrong.
Forgetting the dangerous from the safe raises the risk of death, and losing all memories is essentially losing oneself. Both arguments were perfectly reasonable. There was no need to debate which was more correct.
In this way, memory has always been humanity's excellent weapon and means of survival, a shield protecting the self. Over more than thousands of years, memory has etched trust into humans.
And that became the root of the problem.
"……."
People don't doubt their own memories by nature.
Memory is something acquired, realized, and experienced firsthand. Doubting it is no different from doubting oneself.
It's quite distant from self-reflection. Reflection is ultimately just a process conducted through memory. People don't easily consider the memory itself faulty.
So, while forgetting something is possible, fabricating events that never happened and treating them as real is utterly impossible without mental illness.
Because humans instinctively learn only through real memories. There's nothing to learn from lies except more lies. Imagining killing someone doesn't make you a murderer; humans can only form their current selves through memories of reality.
Ian was the same. Born an orphan, he lived a typical school life. As soon as he became an adult, he hustled to make money—a life anyone could find ordinary. Picking up the grimoire had upended everything, but the life he knew was still that.
But now, impurities had infiltrated those memories.
-Ian! Eat breakfast before you go! And fix your tie properly!
The nagging every morning from a being whose face he couldn't recall, recognized only as 'mother.'
-Ah, oppa! Lend me some clothes! I'll wash them and give them back!
The whiny complaints from a nonexistent little sister.
-Have a good day.
-Woof!
The voice of a 'father' who vaguely resembled him in perception, and the bark of the dog they raised.
All memories he hadn't actually experienced and never would—impurities stirring up his mind.
The family dinner at a restaurant for Mother's birthday.
The day Father's business boomed and they moved.
The little sister's beaming face as she held the puppy they'd just brought home for the first time.
Memories so intricate and detailed he could recall them one by one right now filled his head.
As said, memory forms the foundational basis of a person. Its real-time contamination was no good sign.
'Mental attack? No, not that. If it were a mental attack, I wouldn't have fallen for it.'
First period class.
A man identical to the corpse Lee Seo-ah had bought stood at the lectern, teaching math. Ian glared at him while calmly sorting his thoughts. Beside him, Lee Seo-ah stared down at her desk, mumbling continuously.
"……My parents died when I was young. Drunk driving, crashed into a pole, just like that. Grandma raised me, but she forced me to become a shaman, so I ran away. There's no way my parents are still alive."
Recalling memories.
Distinguishing truth from lies in his head to protect himself. Strengthening the barrier so memory wouldn't be tainted by the anomaly.
Not easy. Memories have no boundaries, and the past is an abstract thing one can only revisit, not observe anew. Separating true from false among the memories creeping in was incredibly difficult.
Seeing Lee Seo-ah break into a cold sweat suggested she was on the verge of mental breakdown. For ordinary people, distinguishing would be nearly impossible.
But Lee Seo-ah managed it.
Thanks to her far stronger mental barriers than most, her mage status, exceptional memory, and—coincidentally—being an orphan without parents.
Obviously, orphans have no parents. So both Ian and Lee Seo-ah could catch memory errors just by filtering out ones featuring parents.
Any other dubious memories involving parents could be boldly discarded.
'Lucky to be an orphan.'
Ian crossed his arms, staring at the drooling teacher.
'The forced memory injection will worsen over time.'
Ironically, the current intrusion wasn't mental-based. It was closer to one-sided implantation.
Not driving people mad, just confusing them. That's why mental barriers weren't fully effective.
He hadn't expected an anomaly attacking this way. It pissed him off. He needed to find and kill the source to feel at ease.
To escape here, he'd have to kill it anyway. Or wait until dismissal—might not be bad. If it's spatial, there'd be escape rules eventually.
'……For now, assume everyone except me and Lee Seo-ah is a monster.'
Ian loosened his choking tie slightly, eyeing the corpse teacher.
All organs extracted, abdomen wide open—the corpse naturally lacked any vitality.
Skin pale, eye sockets holding only deep voids. Yet no one showed fear or doubt toward it.
Some students tapped pens on lips, focusing on class.
Others pranked each other; some snuck phones under desks.
An utterly ordinary classroom. That made it all the more alien.
If blood splattered everywhere and corpses piled up, he'd feel more at ease.
Disconnection.
The disconnect from something utterly non-daily in a daily setting wrapped his whole body.
"Alright, how about Ian solves this one?"
As he scratched his neck in frustration, the teacher suddenly called Ian's name.
Its voice was gloomily corpse-like but heavy enough to crush the room. Ian's movements halted abruptly; Lee Seo-ah, deep-breathing calmly, turned to him.
"……Pardon?"
Ian replied politely. Just that showed his impressive patience.
The corpse grinned regardless.
Maggots and flies crawled from its mouth.
"Sigh, not paying attention? Come solve this. Quickly. This should be easy for the top student, right?"
"……."
"Come on."
The corpse wagged the chalk in its hand. Ian glanced at Lee Seo-ah, exhaled, and stood. The chair scraped back with a screech.
He walked to the blackboard. Freshly changed slippers dragged on the floor; he grabbed a piece of chalk and solved the problem.
Not hard at all. He did it mentally, writing numbers slowly. Pretending to ponder, he scanned around.
Out the window.
No sun outside; four seasons coexisted. He hadn't noticed before, but from up high, it was clear. Some school trees bloomed cherry blossoms; others were lush summer green or autumn leaves; some snowed like flowers.
Ever-shifting seasons symbolized time differently. This space's time was deeply abnormal.
Windows.
Corridor windows covered in handprints. Above them, heads dangled.
All eyes gouged, tongues lolling—strangled corpses.
Curses endlessly spilled from their mouths. Things he hadn't seen entering the classroom.
This confirmed the classroom as some ghost story. Maybe those strangled bodies were tied to it.
"……."
Locker.
Nothing odd. Next.
Blackboard.
No writing, yet creepy scraping sounds like it scratched itself. Some students yelled at Ian to stop, but he ignored. It wasn't him anyway.
Finally, his seat.
On the now-empty chair he'd left, a black shape brazenly sat.
It shifted constantly, donning a uniform, assembling a face. Suddenly, it looked just like Ian.
But just before perfect transformation, something invisible grabbed its head; it jerked to a halt, black blood gushing from its neck as it vanished. Closer look: Lee Seo-ah's guardian spirit had decapitated it.
'Doppelganger too.'
Ian clicked his tongue at the sight.
Well, doppelgangers were common in ghost stories. Especially handy for chaos in a confined school. Good it was dealt with quickly.
'Killing doesn't trigger reaction. Exorcism-like acts are fine, then.'
Ian finished the problem thinking that.
"Correct. Go back and sit."
"Yes."
A bow.
He greeted the corpse and returned to his seat.
If the doppelganger had lived, eye contact upon return would've stopped his heart.
Thinking that made his pulse race. Any lapse, and his head would wave goodbye from his neck.
'Difficulty like the hospital…… No, tampering with memories makes it worse.'
Ian sighed deeply, sat, and turned to Lee Seo-ah.
"Feeling calmer?"
"Yeah. Don't like it, but self-harm weakens the mental attack. Easier to filter memories."
She nodded, tongue slightly out. A drop of blood beaded on the wet tip.
"……Good, but why the tongue?"
"Quick fix. Next time, knife."
She pulled a bone knife from her bag.
Blade ground from nonhuman bone, magically treated—no worry of anomaly taint. Ian nodded; they waited for class end.
Thirty minutes later, the bell rang over speakers. The corpse, zealously teaching formulas, froze, then left through the front door without a word.
"……Rude. Calling that a teacher."
"Not a teacher. A corpse."
"Right. Pisses me off, damn it……."
Lee Seo-ah muttered, ruffling her hair.
Then the back door burst open. A black-haired girl entered the class, scanned, spotted Ian, and ran straight to him.
"Sunbae!"
Whoosh!
She leaped into his arms like a dive. Ian caught her instinctively.
"Heehee. Sunbaeee…… Came during break……."
"……."
"Uung…… Love sunbae…… Your scent, sniff sniff……."
"……Who are you?"
Lee Seo-ah squinted, voice laced with irritation.
"Sunbae's girlfriend!"
■■■ answered herself. Chin on Ian's shoulder, she beamed at Lee Seo-ah.
"Hi, sunbae's friend. Don't know your name! No plans to memorize it either!"
"……Psycho bitch? Hey, I'm your sunbae too. Show respect."
"Uung? I only have one sunbae. The rest…… Ahaha. Sorry, you don't look human."
"……Hah, this fucking—"
"Lee Seo-ah."
Ian cut her off.
"Calm down."
"……No, Ian. This bitch started—"
"You're too emotional now. Or rather, assimilating into 'high school you' memories. Don't get worked up. You'll get overtaken."
"……Ah."
Rationality returned to Lee Seo-ah's eyes. Ian pried off the humming ■■■ from his lap and continued.
"Keep recalling your memories. I get it's tough, but you must. Or survival's hard."
"……Yeah, thanks."
Ian nodded to her, then glared down at ■■■, muttering low.
"And you, don't act rude to Lee Seo-ah. She's my friend too."
"……Sunbae."
"If you don't like it, break up."
His serious tone made ■■■ stare, then giggle.
"As expected, playing along?"
"……What?"
"I'll play your game. You're playing mine, after all. But sunbae? I can't allow other females. Your life should have only me as woman. Our kids expect that too."
"……."
"My heart's deep as the cosmic sea, but not wide. Just enough to drown you alone."
Hands behind back, she pecked his cheek. Red lipstick mark lingered.
"Really. Love you so much I wanna eat you right now."
■■■ leaned for his lips.
Then—
Screeech!
Front door slammed open. ■■■'s head snapped toward it; a suited teacher in heels clicked in. Her snow-white hair swayed lightly.
Thick hyacinth scent wafted, filling the room—not overpowering, not faint.
"Hmm."
She eyed ■■■ blankly.
"First-year. Back to your classroom."
"……Ahaha, damn bitch arrived?"
"Flower scent beats fishy stink."
Her name tag read "Leah." She set her textbook on the desk.
"And acting all 'hoobae' despite your age? Disgusting. That desperate?"
"……Watch your mouth, whitey. Before I tell my husband your true nature."
"You think you're better? I'd take myself over a monster shoving everything visible into her gut."
"Wanna try me?"
"Hm. Your head's still attached 'cause I'm merciful. So shut up and leave. Annoying him, then sneaking back at chances—what's wrong with you? Tentacles instead of a brain?"
"Ahaha, freak with eight arms talks big, teach. First kiss still later than mine. What you bragging? Sunbae's ears rotting. Heeing."
■■■ covered Ian's ears, smirking.
Leah's eyes narrowed five degrees.
"Remove that hand."
"No."
"……."
Gulp.
Ian clamped his mouth shut, silent.
For some reason, the whole school seemed to tremble in fear.