episode_0097

After becoming aware of my current situation, everything progressed as swiftly as a flowing river.

The crosswalk light turned on at just the right moment for me to cross, the bus I needed to take arrived precisely at the stop, and there wasn’t a single person waiting in line to claim the prize money.

As I received confirmation of the payout and took each step back home, I felt something inside me gradually fading away, being whittled down.

Even if it had been a strange delusion, it had been a remarkably realistic fantasy, so it was only natural. But the more those feelings disappeared, the lighter my heart became.

It was almost refreshing. So much so that if I had to choose between the joy of claiming the lottery prize and this lingering euphoria, I might have hesitated.

“He’s trapped in the perfect world he envisioned—just like countless others caught in my illusions.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. But… but Eric definitely wouldn’t fall for something like your illusions…”

“Ah… Haha. You aren’t wrong about that. My power alone wouldn’t be enough to confine him. My ability is merely to create the perfect, idealized world a person desires. Anyone with strong enough convictions would quickly realize something is off about it. Ah, though even ‘strong enough’ people like you two wouldn’t stand a chance, so don’t worry.”

“……”

“Unfortunately, I knew far more about him than he ever imagined. That’s why I could craft the perfect illusion tailored just for him.”

“What kind of world is it?”

“Hm?”

“The world he’s seeing—what’s it like?”

“…Chris?”

“Sorry, sis. I know it’s bad timing, but I have to ask. After hearing that, I can’t just stay silent. It’s impossible for me.”

Christine had listened to Fairchild’s words and understood.

An ideal world? Even she wouldn’t be able to resist it. That’s precisely why she wanted to know more.

That world—the one that ensnared even Eric, the one he swore he could escape. She knew it was too late to walk the same path as him now, but because of that, she couldn’t bear the thought of losing even the chance to trace his footsteps.

Especially since she was the only one who knew Eric’s secret. And to this, Fairchild answered casually, as though it were nothing.

“Boring. So boring it makes you yawn.”

“Don’t joke around.”

“I’m not kidding. Don’t you get it? What he desires isn’t some grand life—it’s just an utterly ordinary existence, free from any special calling. There’s none of that ‘everything going his way’ nonsense. Sometimes, he’d get chewed out by others. Sometimes, things wouldn’t go as planned. Maybe he’d even have plans fall apart right before heading out. But none of it would shake his daily life—it’d just become another trivial memory in the monotony of his days. No Demon King, no continent, no need to care for people’s futures—just a dull, tiny peace.”

“…That’s the world Eric wants?”

“Exactly. I’ve seen plenty of people since I was created. Surprisingly, those kinds exist now and then—people whose dreams and abilities are so grand that they themselves become almost indifferent, even ascetic. The kind who work harder than anyone, sacrificing and devoting themselves, yet desire nothing in return. Pitiful, wouldn’t you say? Doesn’t that sound familiar?”

Christine and Cecilia couldn’t respond. Because the image Fairchild described was unmistakably the Eric Grave they had always known.

“To others, it might seem like a dull, lifeless illusion no different from reality. But to him, that is the perfect world.”

“Eric will definitely break free! You just said it yourself—he’s trapped in an ordinary, boring world. Surely he’d realize how unnatural that is.”

“That’s impossible. Have you ever doubted whether the world you’re standing in is real? The world Eric Grave is trapped in is nearly identical to the one you’re breathing and living in right now. Even so, do you really think he’d notice?”

“Eric would. If you’ve mimicked his appearance, you should already know—he’d never forget his duty.”

“Hmm. Do you really believe that?”

Fairchild looked at Cecilia, who spoke with such conviction, as though amused.

“You mentioned ‘duty’ just now, didn’t you? Then let me ask you this—now that he’s free from all those obligations, do you really think he has any reason to return to this hell?”

“Huh?”

“If he’s as sharp as you claim, he’d instinctively sense it—that this world he’s living in is off somehow. No matter how close to reality it is, people with intense purpose and conviction can never be satisfied until their goals are fulfilled. But.”

Fairchild kicked a relic lying on the ground as though annoyed.

“But that doesn’t necessarily mean he’d return to this reality. Out of all the prophets I’ve observed and mimicked, Eric Grave is a rather special case. A prophet unrecognized by anyone, unable to voice even a single prophecy. It’s like something out of a myth or legend.”

“Ugh!”

At that precise description, Cecilia and Christine instinctively took a step back. The person before them was Fairchild, but his memories and mannerisms were unmistakably Eric’s.

That’s why they fought so hard to deny his words—why they clung to their belief in him.

“He’d know on some level. Even if he miraculously escaped the illusion, he’d realize the place he’s returning to is this world. A world that forces nothing but sacrifice and devotion, never rewarding him in return. Compared to that, wouldn’t an irrational but structured world where effort is rewarded—even just somewhat—seem infinitely more beautiful?”

“No! We never meant to burden Eric alone!”

“If thoughts alone justified actions, the world would be a much nicer place. You wouldn’t need relics like me. ‘We didn’t mean to,’ ‘Please understand our sincerity!’ Nothing changes with just words.”

“What do you know about us…?!”

“Who was it that clung to me desperate for information about Eric Grave, the person you wanted so badly? And what do I know? Please—you know better than anyone. Or could it be that the bond between Christine Grave and Eric Grave is something unknowable even to me, who’s taken his form?”

Fairchild clapped exaggeratedly. To anyone watching, it was unmistakably mockery—but Cecilia and Christine had neither the reasoning nor the stubbornness left to fight back.

“How impressive. All you did was demand sacrifices, yet now, even with a second chance, you can’t do anything without him.”

“……”

“Humans always choose silence over excuses when they’re at a disadvantage. Especially when they’re overwhelmingly outmatched. Maybe it’s a way to console themselves—‘I didn’t say anything, so I didn’t fully concede.’ Is that it?”

“Ugh, nothing good on. Nothing at all.”

The TV screen, which I hadn’t paid attention to in ages, flickered before me, but I kept changing channels impatiently. Movies that should have been thrilling and intense felt bland, and the passionate confessions of lovers rang hollow.

I had money most people could never earn in a lifetime—a life of luxury many could only dream of. And yet, whether it was the remnants of that fantasy gaslighting me or just the unbearable tedium of this idle lifestyle, the giddiness of being wealthy had long since vanished.

Instead, I just felt listless.

I’d scoffed at myself a few times, wondering if I was the type to crave excitement—but the lethargy lingered. Thinking work might help, I tried taking on jobs, but nothing changed.

I laughed with others sometimes, faced conflicts at times—but none of it stirred my life in any meaningful way. I just existed, hollowed out, as though I’d lost the goals and purpose that made me me.

And just like every twist of fate I’d experienced so far, it happened suddenly.

Thud.

A book without a title—one I’d never seen before—fell from the shelf, landing facedown. As if telling me to open it right there.