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Dx : Zot 118
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- Han Kain
At the very least, this wasn’t a Mission Room.
There had been no notification about a “First Mission”, and the final sentence in the Hotel’s announcent had served as a clear indicator that the current room was a Cursed Room.
Normally, upon entering a Cursed Room, my focus would be entirely on its scenario—but this ti, my mind kept circling back to the events leading to entering.
Sothing felt unnatural.
Not just because it was difficult or dangerous—but because it was wrong.
This level of irrationality was sothing I hadn’t experienced since my arrival at the Hotel.
I tried to analyze exactly what felt off.
First, the notification that appeared at dawn.
Even when the Hotel had important announcents, it always delivered them in the morning or evening—so why did the delivery alert specifically co at dawn, waking us all up?
The answer was simple—if it had co in the morning, my eyes would have already healed by then.
In other words, the notification was deliberately tid to ss with us.
That much, I could accept. But the real issue ca next.
Second, those “Idiotic” Patrons
Patrons were supposed to know how the Hotel operated—what was hidden, what each Cursed Room entailed.
If they didn’t, then how could the Owl give accurate advice?
How could we gather hints when eting them in the Sanctum?
Which was why—
This whole situation was absurd.
If this entire scenario was pre-planned, if the package was a trap—
Is the Owl an idiot?
Why would it risk getting locked in a cage just to push us toward the package?
The sa applied to Fortune’s Patron.
If our Blessings were bound to malfunction, then why did it give Seungyub a powerful enhancent right before this?
…
As I wandered through the tent, I ca to two conclusions.
First, this scenario was not orchestrated by our Patrons. The Owl had interfered unnaturally. Fortune’s Patron had expended his power to grant Seungyub a stronger Blessing. Their intended path was probably for us to use the hourglass properly, while Seungyub endured 203 with his new ability.
This ant that sothing else had intervened. Soone—perhaps the one who caged the Owl—had ddled.
Second, the hourglass was not a trap. If it were, then why would the Owl risk so much to get it to us? There had to be a proper way to use it.
Thinking about it, all our Inheritance carried huge risks. The Grimoire could drive insane if read without the Status Window’s protection. The Star could self-destruct if summoned recklessly. Ominous Imagination was unusable without Calmness and Tranquility.
The Hourglass was probably the sa—it had a correct way to be used. I needed to check it. Hadn’t soone ntioned numbers on the bottom?
- Clatter!
“Divine One… Are you alright?”
“I’m fine. Did you need sothing? Your na was…”
“I am known as ‘Old Wolf Claw.’
“Alright, Old Wolf Claw. Do you have sothing to say?”
Enough thinking.
It’s ti to focus on this room’s scenario.
I still didn’t know which room this was.
I didn’t even know its na or objective—but what was clear was that this situation was already shaping up to be a pain in the ass.
Old Wolf Claw began gesturing passionately, tears in his eyes, explaining just how dire the situation of their tribe had beco.
He knew my condition wasn’t normal, but if I didn’t move around and prove that I was still alive and strong, the entire tribe would fall into despair.
So he wanted to step outside.
It was starting to give a headache, so I waved him off and grabbed a fur cloak from the tent wall before stepping outside.
The fur cloak was heavy and reeked of sothing unpleasant.
Even in the Middle Ages, people probably wouldn’t have worn sothing like this.
But as I walked through the tribe’s encampnt, I realized sothing.
Compared to what everyone else was wearing, this fur cloak was basically an imperial robe.
At the very least, it was relatively clean.
The level of civilization here was pathetically low—probably Stone Age at best.
These people weren’t half-naked just because of poverty—they simply didn’t have the ans to create proper clothing.
As I walked, breathing in the fresh air, a half-dressed woman suddenly ran up to , carrying a small child on her back.
“Please, my child hasn’t slept since yesterday, and his skin is burning up! I beg of you—“
I had no idea what to do.
Would patting the child’s head help?
“Step aside at once!”
Before I could react, a hunched old man scuttled forward on all fours, glowering at the woman, and drove her away.
I hurried to tell him that wasn’t necessary, but the old man spoke urgently, “It is dangerous to approach the sick! If the Divine One falls ill again, we will all perish!”
I hesitated—
But… he had a point.
Even in this Stone Age, they at least knew not to approach the sick.
And yet, a 21st-century modern man like had almost made that foolish mistake.
Then, a younger man approached —
Soone called “Blue Wolf Claw.”
From what I could tell, “Wolf Claw” was a title given to the strongest warriors of the tribe.
Old Wolf Claw must have been the previous champion.
“Congratulations on your awakening.”
“Was I unconscious for long?”
“You were asleep for almost a week.”
Perfect. I’ll just go with the amnesia excuse.
“Alright, Blue Wolf Claw—I have so questions.”
“Ask anything, Divine One.”
“Are there others… like ? More ‘Divine Ones’?”
“There should be eight of you.”
I needed to figure out where my comrades were.
Blue Wolf Claw hesitated for a mont before answering, “The leaders of the plains tribes are all descended from a great lineage. I do not know their exact numbers.”
A great lineage…?
It seed my comrades had also awakened—each of them placed in different tribes.
After that, I asked various questions about the tribe’s situation.
Since their civilization was at a Stone Age level, their society was extrely simple, so it didn’t take long to grasp the general picture.
The “tribe” was essentially a massive refugee camp, numbering over 2,000 people.
I seed to be so kind of chieftain, regarded as a descendant of the god they worshiped.
Their biggest concerns were the climate and the monsters.
The weather had been getting colder lately.
Their previous settlent had been devastated by the attacks of sothing called “The Writhing Fangs.”
As a direct result of this devastation, their food supply was running scarce, and the fear of nightly monster attacks was overwhelming the tribe.
Of course, no one could give a clear explanation of what these “Writhing Fangs” actually were.
It seed they expected , the supposed descendant of a god, to protect them from the monsters and lead them to a safer land.
But how?
There was no map, no clear destination—where was I supposed to take them?
As I was lost in thought, a bowl of what they called food was brought before .
The unpleasant stench of rotten fat mixed with an oddly sweet scent of tree fruit and the fishy tang of seawater.
I could say with confidence that even Songee’s pets wouldn’t eat sothing like this.
But seeing the tribe’s strongest warrior licking his lips while staring at the bowl, I just ate it.
***
After roughly assessing the tribe’s condition and gathering geographical information from the elders, the sky had already turned a deep shade of crimson.
It was getting late, and outside my tent, I could hear loud murmuring.
“What’s going on?”
“You may have noticed in the past few days—”
“I told you, I don’t rember past events.”
“My apologies. The tribe has been gathering near your tent every night for so ti now.”
I imdiately understood why.
After being chased from their ho by the Writhing Fangs, these people lived in fear.
Every night, the monsters attacked, and people died.
So by nightfall, they would naturally gather near my tent, believing it to be the safest place.
“Let’s go check.”
“…Excuse ?”
“I wish to lay eyes on these “Writhing Fangs”.”
I expected resistance, but there was none.
The warriors and elders who had been conversing with lit up with excitent and followed imdiately.
It made sense.
The people closest to in the tribe weren’t ordinary villagers but warriors and seasoned fighters.
They were the type to die fighting rather than cower in fear.
That realization made feel a little more at ease.
Outside my tent, dozens of people huddled together, looking more like frightened animals than humans.
Their bodies were thin, and their spirits even weaker.
Just looking at them, I felt a strange frustration welling inside .
I needed to show them sothing different.
I raised my hand toward the sky and summoned the Grimoire.
A sinister aura surged from the pages as the book materialized in midair.
A dark, chaotic world where fate only led to destruction.
In a place like this, where only ruin awaited, power—no matter how ominous or cursed—was the only thing people could rely on.
Before proceeding, I opened the book slightly to confirm sothing.
As expected, my Status Window’s ntal protection was significantly weakened.
It wasn’t completely gone, but it had deteriorated severely.
The Hotel’s earlier notification had warned that Blessings wouldn’t function properly, but unlike in Room 107, it hadn’t stated outright that they were unusable.
Looking back, even before entering this room, Jinchul-hyung had been weakened, but he was still able to fight monsters directly.
The Chat Window wasn’t completely disabled either—it could still send distorted signals.
This ant our Blessings hadn’t vanished.
They had simply beco severely weakened and malfunctioning.
With my ntal protection this fragile, using the Grimoire would be dangerous.
I needed to end this quickly.
Dragging the fight out would be risky.
- Grrrrr!
A chilling, guttural growl echoed from the western horizon.
The Writhing Fangs had arrived.
Hearing the monstrous cries, a new question arose in my mind.
What exactly is the “curse” of this room?
Is it so force that is destroying the world?
But from what I can see, the world here is already ruined.
Looking at the people of this already ruined world, I noticed sothing unexpected.
Hope.
Normally, the mont the monsters howled, they would have collapsed in fear and huddled near my tent. But now, there was expectation in their eyes.
They actually believed—
That I could fix everything.
I didn’t even think before speaking.
“Tonight, we hunt.”
***
sko-fi/genesisforsaken
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