HACKED 128

“I shall explain!”

The Clown raised his hand high.

“The time was once upon a certain month and a certain day, on a day when the heavens were clear.”

‘That just means you don’t know the date.’

The retort rose to the tip of my throat, but I barely managed to suppress it.

“In the 2nd floor, something called the ‘Research Wing district’ suddenly appeared. For a district that didn’t exist to appear overnight—is that not truly a world-shaking occurrence! But lo and behold. From then on, that fellow, <The Royal Tomb’s Sole Guardian Beast>, insisted on guarding this front and settled down right here!”

I feel like… my ears are going to bleed….

“Let’s say that explains the Jinmyosu. Then what about you?”

“It is the instinct of a clown to take apart and examine every nook and cranny of anything interesting or marvelous! The destiny of one born as an entertainer! I was searching for a way to open that door!”

“That door can never be opened unless it is through my authority, though?”

“Aha! Such a critical flaw!”

Exactly how many exclamation points come out every time he speaks? He’s like an exclamation point murderer. I’m at a point where I’m confused whether that fellow is Gasan Ogwangdae or Pagliacci.

“Bwahahaha, you are really funny! Do more, more.”

In the meantime, Dokkaebi must have found the humor to his taste, as he burst into a roar of laughter.

“It is also the instinct of a clown to want to dance more fiercely when people cheer and clap! Well done, well done!”

The Clown grew excited and began to chatter even louder. Fine, at least it’s a relief that you guys are enjoying yourselves.

I walked past them and placed my hand on the entrance panel. The entry procedure for the Research Wing district was identical to when entering a district that had belonged to another Compiler’s Pantheon. A blue light swirled on the panel, and the lock was released.

The moment I tried to take a step forward.

“I told you that you must not enter!”

A sound close to a screeching ‘Kyaak!’ occurred, like a beast rasping its throat. The Jinmyosu, with eyes flashing, blocked me with his small body.

The fellow’s movements were strangely sluggish. To be precise, he was limping slightly on one leg. There didn’t seem to be any visible external trauma. Did he injure a bone?

“What’s wrong with your leg? Are you hurt?”

“I am not hurt; I have been like this since birth, Compiler! Within my one leg, there is a story darker than twilight and redder than flowing blood.”

“And what is that story?”

“Within my leg…”

The Jinmyosu lowered his voice and paused with an incredibly serious expression. In spite of myself, I even held my breath and waited for his next words.

“A Dark Flame Dragon is dwelling.”

“Ah, is that so.”

I’m the fool for listening to that kind of nonsense seriously for even a moment.

I shook my head from side to side and stepped past the door. The other Incarnations also followed me without a word. Seeing that, the Jinmyosu huffed and puffed, but eventually, he entered as well. The door closed behind us.

…The door ‘closed’?

‘Did the doors close automatically when I went to other districts?’

In the original Pantheon, the Library District, and the Kowloon Walled City District, the doors opened when I placed my hand on the panel. And they did not close automatically until I used my authority to close them.

“Don’t tell me.”

I hurriedly turned around.

There was no separate panel on the inside of the Research Wing district. Just like everywhere else in the Pantheon, there were no handles or grooves on the door. Once the door closed completely, it became a form no different from a mere wall.

‘Don’t tell me, don’t tell me, don’t tell me…’

An ominous foreboding crept up on me.

Thump.

I struck the top of the door with my fist. Of course, there was no way the door would open through such a primitive method.

By this point, the other Incarnations also noticed the strangeness.

“What is it? Why did the door suddenly close… it won’t open?”

Hwarang ground his teeth and kicked the door hard with one leg. Talk about a temper.

Bang!

A loud noise echoed. However, the door didn’t budge. If the Pantheon’s doors were this easy to break in the first place, San Gun wouldn’t have been trapped in the central command room for all those years. I wouldn’t have been able to keep Gumiho in self-quarantine either.

By now, I had no choice but to admit it. I muttered blankly in front of the door where Hwarang’s footprint was clearly engraved.

“It seems… we are trapped.”

Trapped in my own Pantheon? Even though all the Incarnations are fine and I have my terminal with the battery fully charged?

‘Man, I was working for the sake of the Pantheon, this is driving me crazy.’

The Jinmyosu snorted at the sight of me.

“That is why I told you. That you must not enter.”

The words that had sounded like the nonsense of a middle-school-syndrome patient earlier were now overflowing with credibility. Is this how an extra in a horror movie feels, dying after ignoring every significant foreshadowing and rushing in headlong?

I nodded gloomily.

“Yes, you were absolutely right.”

The Jinmyosu is a god, and I am a moron.

˙✧˖°🎮 ⋆｡˚

Since the door we entered through was blocked, we had no choice but to move forward. It was based on the thought that a solution would appear if we kept walking somehow, rather than just standing blankly in place and hitting the door.

The Library District had two exits, front and back. So, I held onto the hope that there might be a back door in the Research Wing district as well.

But something was strange.

When checked with the terminal’s map function, the Research Wing district wasn’t that wide. In terms of area alone, it wasn’t even half of the Library District. Maybe about a quarter. However, even after walking for ten minutes, thirty minutes, nearly an hour, the end did not appear.

The interior of the Research Wing district was no different from what I had seen in the game <No Lifer>. It was as if the in-game ‘Abandoned Michuhol-gu Neural Network Transplant Research Building Area C-113’ had been moved directly into reality. Everything was exactly as I remembered, except for the total absence of monsters and items.

A landscape of research facilities turned into ruins as if a storm had swept through. Servers and workstations were overturned, wrapped in wires and covered in dust. Unidentified solutions leaked from broken flasks or beakers, staining the floor.

Objectively, it is not a very beautiful sight. However, compared to other maps in <No Lifer>, this much is on the better side. There are many places that are far more severely gory.

For example, the ‘Bombed Jeongseon-gun Emotion Conversion Power Plant.’ In this map, fragments of corpses of people presumed to be power plant employees are strewn everywhere.

And the ‘Pyoseon-myeon Incompatible Gene Isolation Zone.’ Here, infant test subjects who have taken on horrific forms due to excessive genetic modification experiments crawl around crying. These babies are not the type of monsters that attack first, but it is heart-wrenching that touching them even slightly inflicts continuous damage, so you eventually have to kill them.

Compared to those maps, the extent of broken research equipment rolling around is very decent. The problem is that this scenery is repeating without end.

“That broken stirrer… we saw it earlier too, right?”

At my question, San Gun nodded.

“We did. About thirteen times.”

A sigh escaped me naturally. I ran a hand through my hair and stopped in my place. I was starting to get tired from walking and walking without a destination.

“I shouldn’t have rushed in recklessly. My thinking was shallow. I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about.”

San Gun replied nonchalantly. He glanced around at the other Incarnations and finally fixed his gaze on me.

“Look. No one else besides you knew we’d end up trapped like this. Is there anyone here dissatisfied with your decision? Not a single one.”

Is it not that they aren’t dissatisfied, but rather that they’re afraid of being beaten to a pulp by that crazy tiger the moment they show it?

“Compiler, I told you not to en—!”

“What, brat.”

“…”

The Jinmyosu, who was about to grumble something, shriveled up at San Gun’s single word. Even that middle-school-syndrome patient has manners immediately injected into him in front of San Gun.

“Myeong. Do you understand? It is not your fault.”

“…Yes.”

“Being that soft-hearted, how do you plan to live in this harsh world?”

“Soft-hearted? Me?”

It was absurd. I’ve heard people say I’m too cold and selfish, but I’ve never heard anyone call me soft-hearted, even as a joke.

“Are you only soft-hearted? You are also so incredibly weak.”

I flared up and retorted to his words.

“Please do not ignore the descendant of combat Taekwondo, in which the spirit of the Republic of Korea Army dwells.”

“Combat… what? What Taekwondo?”

“I learned it in the army. I even got a reward vacation for getting my black belt certificate.”

I said it to mean he shouldn’t underestimate the spite of someone who volunteered for the military and completed full service even though an exemption was possible as an orphan. However, San Gun didn’t even pretend to listen.

“If you are my master, huh? Do not apologize so easily. If you bow, all those beneath you end up bowing too. Even if it is your fault, do not admit it right away and just hold out.”

‘Mister San Gun, why don’t you try living while admitting your faults just a little bit?’

San Gun looked into the air, thought about something for a moment, and then grinned.

“The fault lies with the cause that created this goddamn anomaly. We find it and beat the hell out of it.”

Exactly what was he thinking about? The sight of beating someone the hell out, just as he said? No, actually. I don’t really want to know….