Chapter 135
Chapter 135
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 135
Chapter Title: Epilogue
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A few days had passed since wrapping up business in Busan.
Mid-March. The streets of Seoul were fully blanketed in spring weather. Cherry blossoms were in full bloom, and flowers of every color dotted the surroundings. The sun's gentle rays, not too hot, poured down from the sky.
But spring wasn't without its downsides. Pollen drifted thickly amid the scattering petals, and fine dust hazed the air. It might be tolerable in the provinces, but Seoul took the full brunt of the yellow dust too—no way to keep the windows open.
Of course, it barely affected Ian. Ever since acquiring the grimoire that day, he'd been holed up in his workshop every day. Even if air came in, the workshop's air purifier ran at max, filtering out impurities. The environment was always kept in optimal condition.
The same held true now.
In the workshop's living room, where cool air circulated smoothly.
Ian sat in a chair, adjusting his rimless glasses. They clinked and shifted with the motion.
"Hmm."
In his hand was the [Blue Shackles and Book of Contracts]. The blue grimoire, chained with clinking iron links, vibrated as if thrilled by his touch.
The Blue Shackles and Book of Contracts had slightly shorter intervals between vibrations than other grimoires. The duration of each vibration was about the same, though. The issue was the stuttering tremble each time it buzzed—aside from that, conversation time was roughly equivalent to other grimoires.
Not a big deal anyway. It just meant things were peaceful enough to notice such minute differences between grimoires.
"Contract magic, huh..."
Ian leaned back against the chair, scanning the contract spells inscribed in the grimoire. The content was incredibly complex, but boiled down to this:
First, the contract target didn't distinguish between organic and inorganic matter.
He could grab any passerby human and contract them, or even a plain old pencil. The base cost for casting magic was naturally higher for intelligent lifeforms, but the key was that contracts with inanimates were possible.
Second, the contracted target's memories were altered.
It was the ability commonly called perception alteration. The degraded version was a hypnosis app.
The target Ian contracted would undergo simple memory rewriting as he desired. Implant affection, and they'd remember dating for days; instill hatred, and they'd recall the target as their parents' murderer—forcing it straight into their brain.
Truth or falsehood didn't matter. The magic manipulation burrowed into the psyche at impossible speeds, reshaping the personality itself.
That alone sounded absurdly overpowered—and it was—but memory alteration had clear limits. Implanting complex memories was impossible, as was stacking two or more.
If that were feasible, puppeteering people at will wouldn't be hard.
Regrettable, but satisfying enough. If the power were greater, humans couldn't wield it anyway. Like the Hand of Recreation, this probably imposed self-limits.
'Unseal the restrictions, and I could rewrite every memory like at the school.'
What was there to hide?
That instinctive chill he'd first felt at school was all this grimoire's doing. The school ghost stories had little to do with it. It just provided a convenient setting and backdrop for memory tampering—the rest was the Blue Shackles and Book of Contracts rampaging solo.
He didn't dwell on it. People entering got their memories messed with and became part of the ghost stories?
Could happen.
That was how Outer God grimoires worked. Being brand-new left room for leniency.
After all, what did a newborn know?
"Hm."
Ian shook the grimoire's clinking chains side to side, skimming the final contract details.
The maximum number of simultaneous contracts was two. To exceed that, he'd have to dispose of an existing contractor or unilaterally terminate. Termination dumped all the burden on the other party.
Hecate's death at the end stemmed from that backlash. She'd built power over a long contract, so the rebound was massive. Cancel right after contracting, and it'd probably just cost a limb.
"An incredibly strong spell."
Ian removed his glasses, tossing them onto the desk as he muttered.
"No risk to me at all, and no liability after termination... It's a straight-up unfair contract."
Of course, the usage conditions were pretty stringent.
The target had to be bleeding, in physical contact, and unconscious... Unlike the straightforward Hand of Recreation or Deep Sea Chronicles, there were plenty of hoops—and even sacrifices required.
Exceptions were beings summoned via the grimoire: recorded spirits, demons, certain anomalies dwelling in space, etc. Those could be contracted freely within 10 minutes, no conditions.
In other words, past 10 minutes, it was force or bust—contracts be damned. Summoning carried its own risks, unlike the contract spell.
'Balance patch, basically.'
Ian closed the grimoire and exhaled deeply, staring into space.
Faint aquarium light filtered into the dim workshop interior. Fish lazily swam around the surface, stirring tiny currents.
"..."
He glanced at his phone for the time.
7 PM. Late if late, early if early.
Any later, and dinner would get awkward. He threw on a coat and headed out to grab something quick.
The officetel area had a decent commercial strip—plenty of eateries and convenience stores. Ian pondered options before ducking into a convenience store for a triangle kimbap and ramen.
No need to eat like this with the money he had, but good was good. Not like it tasted bad anyway.
"Checkout."
"Yes. 3,000 won. Oh, cigarettes too? You buy them every time."
As the part-timer scanned and bagged, Ian shook his head firmly.
"Nah. Quitting."
"Ah, got it. Shame. You were our top sales driver..."
The clerk winked and tossed in a chocolate milk for free. Ian gave a wry smile, thanked them, and left—remembering to grab hot water for the ramen.
Scrape.
He tore open the kimbap at a convenience store table chair. Biting in, the signature sticky, mushy texture hit. He'd worried after all the fancy eats lately, but his taste held steady.
Spring nights were chillier than days. No breath fog, but the breeze snuck through his coat, carrying a slight bite.
Bearable cold. Ian waited for the ramen to cook, then stirred with chopsticks. Solo-living skills didn't fade—water amount and noodle doneness were spot-on. He nodded in satisfaction, pulling out his phone to hunt videos.
Then he recalled that Mika mage from the bureau was a VTuber and searched her name.
Live stream on. Viewer count around 3,000. Not sure if big or small, but solid numbers—probably decent for the scene. He was an outsider.
Mika was playing a horror game—pretty gory and creepy, enough to spook normals. But she was a mage.
Pro at fear. That reaction was pure acting. No way a mage from Japan feared ghosts.
'No one trustworthy.'
Ian shook his head, setting the phone on the table.
He finished eating amid Mika's fake screams.
Dumped the trash, then logged into the community right there.
Could head back anytime, but since he was out, might as well breathe fresh air. Dusty and pollen-laden, sure—not ideal, but better than roombound stagnation for brain rotation.
Pop.
Opened the free chocolate milk, stuck in a straw, and browsed posts. Days inactive, and intriguing topics abounded.
The post was over a week old. Too late to reply, so Ian scrolled past.
Ian read through the familiar nicknames' posts.
Dropped some comments, then stood to head back.
That was when.
A new post hit the no-updates board. Ian glanced indifferently at the title—then his eyes widened.
"Real newbie...!"
Ian muttered unconsciously, lips twitching upward.