episode_0350

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4. Leave behind ■◇◇■. – Do not leave. – Hold onto your memories.

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Squeak…

The thick iron door opened.

Having walked through the oil-stenched hallway on the seventh underground floor—Han Eunha pulled the door handle, frowning at the strangely light weight.

‘Why is the door so light? Is it made of styrofoam?’

Due to her [Self-Recovery] skill, her physical strength barely grew. Without mana-enhanced ‘body reinforcement,’ she couldn’t even open a can of beer.

Yet, despite that, the massive iron door—clearly requiring way more than a child’s strength to budge—swung open smoothly.

Squeak…

As if pulling open a styrofoam door.

Or as if someone inside pushed it open alongside her.

Squeaaaaak…

The slightly ajar door.

Eunha peered inside through the dark gap.

……The interior of the iron door was spacious.

A room that, while suitable for one person, felt far too large for a child trapped inside.

“You’re here?”

And there, she saw them.

『……Is that you, Byeol-nim?』

“Yeah, it’s me.”

The orphans she once lived with.

No longer alive—yet unable to become ghosts or aberrations, stuck as ‘in-between things’.

Huddled together in a corner like frightened rabbits, their eyes met Eunha’s through the crack in the door.

『…….』

Among them was the ‘young Eunha’ who had been sitting at the table earlier.

‘I thought she’d be lonely alone, but she seems to get along well with the kids… Somehow, that relieves me.’

Squeeze…

The children, clustered together like scared rabbits.

Eunha, gripping a wire saw, staring at them through the gap.

Somehow, she felt like the bad guy here, but she didn’t care.

When she grinned to reassure them, the already tightly packed kids flinched and huddled even closer.

At least their limbs were still intact.

Eunha checked their condition before speaking.

“Hey, have you seen the ‘Director’? I thought she’d be here, so I came.”

The room wasn’t that dark.

Enough to see the terrified faces of the kids merged into one in the corner.

Flick. Flick.

A single bulb—identical to the one seen at the dining table—hung from the pitch-black ceiling, swinging side to side like a child on a swing.

She hadn’t stepped inside yet.

Eunha scanned the interior through the gap, wary of her surroundings.

『…….』

Then, at her question about the Director’s whereabouts…

The children fell silent.

『…….』 『…….』

As if by some agreement.

All at once, they clamped their mouths shut and closed their eyes.

An instinct born of fear.

Had they been warned not to reveal the Director’s location?

‘No… Not that. They suddenly froze in terror.’

Eunha, standing before the iron door, watched them through the gap.

Flick. Flick.

A single bulb illuminating the interior.

The children gathered in the corner.

The invisible ‘Director’.

…And,

Blind spots on either side—

Unseen from the door’s gap.

“……Is the Director inside?”

Jolt.

The ‘young Eunha’ buried among the children trembled.

A face unscarred but filled with misfortune.

The child slowly cracked open one eye.

『……Ah.』

Her gaze was fixed—

Above Eunha’s head.

『…….』

She saw it.

Eunha watching them through the slightly open door.

And,

Above Eunha’s head,

Stuck to the ceiling,

Mirroring her—

Peering down at the kids through the same gap,

The upside-down face of the ‘Director’.

“Huuh…!”

The door had been light because someone else was opening it alongside her.

Following the ‘young Eunha’s’ gaze above her, a startled Eunha looked up.

Whoosh!

Since entering the orphanage, the ‘Director’ had clung to the ceiling, crawling above Eunha’s head.

In that instant, the ‘Director’ snapped out a long arm—grabbing Eunha’s head—

And slammed it full-force into the edge of the iron door.

Crunch!

The sound of an eggshell cracking.

The fingers gripping the wire saw twitched violently before going limp, hanging loosely.

Clatter…

The wire saw slipped from her grasp, clattering to the floor.

After crushing Eunha’s head against the door, the Director—still smiling warmly—hurled her into the room.

“Keugh…! No, this is cheating—”

Eunha, collapsed on the floor, clutched her head and tried to rise.

Trembling fingers pressed against her caved-in forehead, trying to stem the flow of—

Squelch.

She grabbed her head, but it felt mushy.

Like gripping a melting ice cream cone.

『Byeol-nim.』 『It’s Byeol-nim.』 『Byeol-nim’s here.』

Bzzzzzt—

The deafening tinnitus made her head spin.

Yet amidst the noise, she could hear the terrified breaths of the huddled children—helping her regain some clarity.

‘She attacks? Without breaking any ‘rules’?’

Had she been too careless?

As Eunha writhed in pain, the ‘Director’—delighted by the blood on her hands—turned her gaze elsewhere.

Toward the children bunched in the corner.

The ‘in-between things’ shrank in fear.

“……Everyone but Eunha, leave. This is Eunha’s room now.”

The ‘Director’ swung the iron door wide open.

Still smiling warmly, she gestured for the children to step out.

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4. Leave behind ■◇◇■. – Do not leave. – Hold onto your memories.

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She intended to shut the door.

Just like at the orphanage.

If she locked Eunha inside, escape without breaking the ‘rules’ would be impossible.

‘Does that mean force is allowed? Is she sane?’

The ‘Director’ was unnaturally fixated on Eunha—enough to attack regardless of ‘rules.’

As long as she trapped Eunha here, nothing else mattered—rules be damned.

Uncharacteristic of an aberration.

『…….』

Her shattered skull slowly regenerated. But standing was still difficult.

The ‘children,’ who had been silently watching, now rose at the ‘Director’s’ urging—

Edging forward in a tight pack.

“Come out. This is Eunha’s room now.”

They walked. Toward the wide-open iron door.

Past the ‘Director,’ who stepped aside to let them pass quickly.

『…….』

And then, the children—

Stumbled past Eunha as she staggered to her feet—

Only to halt…

And block the ‘Director’s’ path.

“……What are you doing?”

『Byeol-nim.』

The ‘in-between things.’

Children standing firmly before the open door.

Just like when Do Jong-ha and the ‘Mouse’ escaped the orphanage basement long ago—blocking the Director’s way.

“Leave.”

『You told us the food came from Byeol-nim.』

“Go. This room is only for Eunha.”

『We were grateful to Byeol-nim.』

“Go!”

『We lived, always missing Byeol-nim.』

A petty grudge.

Not reaching the heavens, yet woven from pure white resentment.

SLAM!

The ‘Director’s’ warm smile twisted as she shoved the blocking child.

The fallen child dusted itself off and stood in her way again.

“…….”

Why.

For what reason?

Still clutching her shattered head, Eunha braced against the wall and stood.

The ‘Director,’ descended from the ceiling, flailed her grotesquely elongated limbs—raging.

“GO!!”

Contrary to the rule ‘Do not leave,’ this aberration screamed for them to leave.

Selfish. Was she even a proper aberration?

If so, then the ‘Do not leave’ rule might not be absolute either.

‘Do not leave… What defines “leaving”? If it’s written as a rule in the [Black Book], there must be criteria.’

She stared at the open door.

The ‘Director’ shouting at the children to leave.

…Do not leave.

Could the rule mean ‘do not escape a sealed place’?

No breaking doors, no breaking walls—

No exiting an enclosed space.

Then, if someone else opened the door from the outside—wouldn’t that permit escape?

After all, it was the ‘Co-Habitation Guide.’

『LEAVE!!!』

The sight of the ‘Director’ holding the door open from the outside—yelling for the trapped children to leave—

Gave Eunha the answer.

“Co-habitation my ass… Needing someone else to open the door—how does that make it a ‘Co-Habitation Guide’?”

She couldn’t even make proper rules.

Eunha lightly tapped her mostly healed head and moved.

『……Byeol-nim.』

Children were being grabbed by the ‘Director’s’ elongated arms and hurled outside.

The thrown children clung desperately to her black nun’s habit.

Pitiful grudges, powerless as they were tossed aside.

And the last remaining grudge—the young ‘Eunha’ blocking the ‘Director’s’ path stood defiant.

『You…! Why did you—!』

The orphanage basement.

A wounded Eunha and the younger self standing between her and the ‘Director.’

Whose grudge did that girl belong to?

No way to know.

Just that someone’s lingering resentment toward the ‘Director’—

Like a lost puzzle piece—remained here.

『Please… kill me.』 『If only you’d never left…!』

Had the ‘Director’ hesitated to throw that child outside?

Her elongated limbs flailing, face contorted with rage—until her gaze landed on—

The ‘wire saw’ on the floor.

『If you hadn’t left… If only you lost the legs to run…!』

She reached out.

Toward the wire saw.

Snap—!

But faster than her—

Someone else grabbed it first.

『……You—m…』 『Do not resolve grudges outside the rules.』

A woman drenched in blood.

Her dress, saturated in dark crimson, bore no trace of its original color.

Expressionless, droplets of blood streaked down her face.

Splat. Splat.

Smeared head to toe in gore,

A woman of pure red.

“…Eunhong.”

Only her eyes—

Black as the night sky—

Locked onto Eunha like crescent moons curling into a smile.

『Rules must be kept. Even the ‘rules for breaking the rules.’』 『You…! You always…!』

The ‘Director’ who crushed Eunha’s skull against the door—

SLICE.

Lost an arm to the [Crimson Woman]’s wire saw—before being grabbed by the hair and smashed forehead-first into the same iron door edge.

CRASH!

The now blood-soaked ‘Director’ tumbled inside the room.

“…….”

The ‘young Eunha,’ still blocking the doorway.

Outside—the orphanage children and the [Crimson Woman].

And inside the room—

Eunha and the Director.

“…Eunhong.”

『Love you.』

“I just called your name.”

『I know.』

“Tch. I’ll handle the rest—just close the door for me.”

Eunha’s request.

Had she guessed what came next?

The [Crimson Woman] wordlessly tossed the ‘wire saw’ back to her.

『Wow. Lucky thing.』

Then, spotting the ‘young Eunha’ still blocking the door—

She dashed over, scooped her up, and bolted outside.

The obstruction was gone.

As the ‘Director’ wanted.

And as Eunha planned.

『See you later.』

CLANG—!

With the ‘young Eunha’ in her arms, the [Crimson Woman] slammed the door shut.

The lone bulb swaying like a swing, casting uneven light.

『Y-You…! You always…!』

“Shame. You wanted me trapped here alone—but now you’re stuck too, huh?”

Creak.

Her head wound had healed.

Wire saw in hand, Eunha wore her usual smile.

…Maybe because the [Crimson Woman] had held the handle?

The grip felt faintly warm.

『If only… you hadn’t left…!』

“I’m not leaving now.”

Do not leave.

So all she had to do was torment the ‘Director’ until—

She broke the rules and crawled out herself.

Eunha decided to do what she did best.

She healed fast.

“You’re trapped here with me.”

Squelch!

Same smiling face.

She lunged at the ‘Director,’ wire saw poised.

……. …….

In this world, there are two kinds of people you should never mess with.

One is those with nothing to lose.

The other? Those with nothing behind their eyes.

“Hm. What were we doing again?”

“Looking for Eunha Doryeo.”

[Facility] Underground.

Kim Hayang and Kim Sarang—along with ‘Flounder,’ whom they met here—walked down a white hallway.

‘Flounder’s’ hand held the [Black Book] Eunha had lent them.

Kim Hayang’s pockets—filled with test data from the [Facility].

And in Kim Sarang’s grasp—

Discovered while exploring with the fluffy Jjong-i—development notes for the [Galaxy Potion].

Even someone as empty-headed as Kim Hayang knew of the [Galaxy Potion].

Wasn’t it the potion the Alchemy Lab once developed?

A miracle elixir that instantly healed most injuries—except for lost limbs or lifespan issues.

Discontinued due to ‘material supply’ issues, fading into obscurity.

But now, the crucial facts were:

First, the [Galaxy Potion]’s data was found here, in the [Facility].

And second…

“[Galaxy Potion]’s ingredient… is Miss Eunha’s blood?”

Crack.

Guild Leader Kim Hayang gritted her teeth, fists clenched.

The Alchemy Lab had always hidden the potion’s production and ingredients.

Even the [Ever-Star Swordsmiths] had tried everything to uncover its secrets… or so she recalled.

Though it couldn’t fix her eyes, it could revive the dying.

No matter how many high-recovery monsters they ground up, nothing came close to the [Galaxy Potion]…

Yet it turned out to be made from one hunter’s blood?

“…So that’s why. The reason Eunha stormed this place, even staging a kidnapping.”

Aberrations, the Alchemy Lab…

How had Eunha survived all this?

It defied comprehension.

Tap.

Determined, Kim Hayang quickened her search.

They’d been chasing the missing ‘Director,’ but—

With enough evidence gathered, all that remained was finding Eunha and escaping.

“Mother dearest! Careful—no running allowed.”

“Hm.”

But strange rules hindered them.

No running in hallways.

Kim Hayang paced briskly, scanning the surroundings.

“Mother dearest! I found suspicious masks in that room! Since we’re technically kidnappers, shouldn’t we wear them?”

“Sarang.”

Kim Sarang handed over a black mask she’d rummaged from an office.

Tucking it away, she quickened her steps.

No sign of Eunha.

Yet the rules forbade sprinting.

Frustration.

Kim Hayang—usually thoughtless—desperately racked her brain this once.

“The rule bans running. There must be criteria.”

“Criteria, you say?”

“So not running is the issue, right?”

Mind hurried, thoughts rushed.

Find Eunha.

Hug her tight, make her all soft and warm.

Kim Hayang was more brawn than brain—or perhaps just body without brain.

Fwump!

She suddenly halted, dropping flat onto the floor.

Then, arms spreading like a swimmer’s—

Shwoosh! CRASH!

In seconds, she glided down the hallway, slamming into the far wall.

“……Hm. Works fine, Sarang.”

From the other end, she waved casually—leaving ‘Flounder’ burying her face in secondhand embarrassment.

What was that?

That’s not human.

“Guild Leader Kim Hayang… looks like a flounder.”

“But fast. Efficient.”

Then, shortly after—

“Oh.”

Eyes sparkling, Kim Sarang—

Praised for her cleverness—copied the move, belly-flopping and gliding.

‘Flounder,’ unable to watch, covered her eyes and turned away.

She understood their urgency—but why must she bear the embarrassment?

“Oooogh…”

Beside her, the fluffy Jjong-i patted her shoe sympathetically.

……. …….

Time passed.

The long day neared its end.

『No ru—Woah, what the—?』

Aberrations in the [Facility] hid silently upon spotting the human ‘swimming’ past.

Soon, the beastly mother-daughter pair returned to the entrance after combing the underground labs.

“No luck. She’s not here.”

“Maybe there’s a hidden space?”

Eunha remained unseen.

The underground lab—inescapable.

How suffocating it must have been.

Squeak…!

Right then—the tightly sealed iron doors opened.

Research staff rushed inside.

“Head Alchemist! You can’t just—”

“Hurry! There’s a monster kid out there! Why is that thing lurking near the [Facility]?!”

The staff—likely from the Alchemy Lab—poured through the entrance, their white coats bloodied as if fleeing combat outside.

“…….” “…….”

The mother-daughter duo silently observed.

……Fwoop.

Without a word, Kim Hayang donned the mask Kim Sarang had given her.