The knocking continued. Here, in this Mysterious Realm, ordinary divination was useless. Not that it mattered; even if it worked, Jenkins had little faith in his own divinatory abilities. He wanted to ask the professor for his opinion, but the man had fainted again, leaving Jenkins to shout out on his own:
"Who's there?"
But there was no response.
After a long mont of deliberation, the knocking grew faint, as if the visitor was about to leave. Jenkins glanced at the wardrobe in the corner, then at the alarm clock with its nauseating expression. Finally, he ascended the basent steps, took a deep breath, and pulled the door open just a crack.
The scene outside was horrific. Just half an hour ago, it had been an ordinary apartnt, but now the walls and floor were covered in a thick, pink, fleshy mbrane. Black tentacles sprouted from every surface, writhing in the air.
A black spiritual aura perated every corner, and even the person who had been knocking emanated the sa dark glow. He was a portly, middle-aged man dressed like a rchant, but it was the hat on his head—a hat with a human face on it—that spoke, not the expressionless man beneath it.
"Hello. I'm a rchant who buys water. Are you interested in a trade?"
The voice had such a thick accent that Jenkins had to strain to understand what it was saying.
"What kind of water are you looking for?"
If it was just ordinary water, Jenkins could use his [Psychography] ability to create a large amount of it.
"I only deal in water with extraordinary power, or the blood of the living."
A long, slender tongue shot out from the mouth on the hat's face, as if to lick Jenkins, but a burst of fla from his pores halted its advance.
"So, how about it? Your blood, or your companion's, will do."
The hat spoke, its tone shifting to one of temptation as it added:
"Any amount will do. You can give just enough to leave you with your strength for battle. And no matter how much blood you trade, that alarm clock will reduce the ti..."
"You know what we're doing?"
Jenkins cut in abruptly.
"Of course."
The hat's tone grew strangely animated.
"I want to know what's really going on in this Mysterious Realm."
The sense of strangeness intensified. Sothing was definitely wrong with this Mysterious Realm.
"I can tell you, but you must trade with ."
Jenkins was stunned that the hat didn't refuse.
He hesitated for a mont, then took out the fountain pen he had brought down from the second floor. Unscrewing the back, he gestured for the hat to look at the ink reservoir.
"Does this liquid satisfy your requirents?"
The pen's spiritual aura ca from the ink. Jenkins had originally planned to try and rge it with his [Creation Pencil] if he made it out of here, but that seed impossible now.
"Hmph."
The hat on the man's head wore an expression of disdain; this was clearly not what it had been expecting. But still, every little bit counted. After a mont's thought, the hat controlled the body's arm, pulling a hand from its pocket to take the pen.
It wasn't a hand at all, but sothing more like a claw.
Perhaps he had kept the door open too long, because Jenkins noticed the fleshy mbrane outside was now trying to creep into the basent. Flas spread from the candle in his hand, enveloping the doorfra. It should be enough to incinerate any flesh that tried to cross the threshold, at least for a while.
Just staring at the scene outside for so long brought back the sa wave of nausea and revulsion. He wanted to finish this transaction quickly, and it seed the man outside felt the sa.
"You're quite the miser. Very well."
The hat seed to lose all interest in Jenkins. "This is the end of the world..."
"I know that. But is this a fictional apocalypse, or is it sothing that actually happened in the past?"
Even knowing that Mysterious Realms were just fragnted worlds, this one was beyond anything he'd expected. Jenkins was certain this so-called "end of the world" wasn't so simple. For one thing, he had never encountered a Mysterious Realm this complex.
"An interesting question. A pity I cannot answer it for you."
The figure outside shook his head regretfully, but to Jenkins, the fact that it couldn't answer was an answer in itself. It strongly suggested this Mysterious Realm was, in fact, a fragnt of the past.
"But how could the world of a powerful being preserve a complete fragnt of the past?"
As he mulled this over, the man, who had yet to leave, spoke again:
"But since I've taken your paynt, I suppose I should offer a hint... If you truly wish to peer into the truth of this realm, you should consider what it is that's guiding you..."
With that, he turned to leave. A few of the tentacles on the pink mbrane, seemingly not knowing any better, tried to reach for the hatted man, only to be instantly severed by an unseen blade.
"Guiding ..."
As he struggled to shut the door, he heard the alarm clock announce another reduction in ti. It was then that Jenkins realized what had been guiding them all since entering the Mysterious Realm: the clock.
"The clock... ti... Could this Mysterious Realm have been created by so powerful being who governs the domain of ti?"
It wasn't impossible. In fact, that would perfectly explain the origin of this particular fragnt.
"A world where ti is twisted could certainly preserve fragnts of the past. This Mysterious Realm is a piece of so great past disaster, but whether it was an ordinary calamity during an Epoch or a cataclysm at the very end of one, I can't be sure."
Though he had no proof, Jenkins was already convinced of his theory. He sniffled, scooped up the cat that was guarding the miner's lamp, and prepared to face the next trial.
In truth, this Mysterious Realm was a little less difficult than Jenkins had anticipated, especially since he and the cat had brought down a great number of items from the second floor. In the ti that followed, Jenkins discovered that each item was the key to solving a specific event. As long as he had the right object on hand, the danger was manageable.
The male corpse in the corner cabinet, for instance, required the small statuette of the armless woman—a connection Jenkins only made after discovering an eye peering through a hole in the wall and promptly blinding it with a fire poker.
Once he adopted this way of thinking, the subsequent events beca much easier to handle. Even when he and the cat hadn't brought down the necessary item from upstairs, his own strength was usually enough to resolve any incidents he couldn't otherwise manage.
Three hours passed in the blink of an eye. Thanks to the repeated ti reductions, only half an hour remained before they could leave the Mysterious Realm.
Lying on the floor and panting heavily, a belated fear washed over him. If not for that extra black chess piece he had used to cheat, how would he ever have dealt with the chess-playing fiend that had crawled out of the sewer?
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