"That red worm is incomplete, but the danger here is whole."
Hearing Jenkins's surprise, the bell ringer replied. He was far more amiable than any other Mysterious Realm host Jenkins had ever encountered.
Although the bell ringer's explanation was sowhat cryptic, Jenkins grasped its aning. A Calamity Beast might be the most terrifying of monsters, but this wasn't the Scarlet Ephera itself, escaped from its seal on the red moon. The danger lurking in this Mysterious Realm was greater than that of a re fragnt of the creature.
"What exactly is here? A descendant of a Calamity Beast? So other strange, malevolent entity? Or so unknown Cursed Item?"
Jenkins had encountered such terrifying things before. The material world, and even the void beyond, was far from the safe place ordinary people believed it to be. Monsters, known and unknown, from the present and the past, were a constant presence in every age.
A Calamity Beast was certainly the most terrifying of foes, but a fragnt of one wasn't necessarily more formidable than other monstrosities.
"I think I understand now."
Jenkins nodded again, signaling his acceptance of the task.
"I just want to leave this place. I'm not interested in the town's secrets. I have no wish to disturb the peace here; I'm just passing through."
"That would be for the best, Savior. I can offer you so tips."
"Tips?"
"Yes."
The bell ringer slowly leaned back against the wall of the bell tower.
"First, while there's no explicit ti limit, the faster you leave, the better. This is not a pleasant place, and if you linger too long, I cannot guarantee what might happen to this town. Second, the residents here are extrely hostile toward outsiders like you. The town itself despises them. Therefore, do not trust a word any of the townspeople say. Do nothing more than what is necessary to help them in exchange for dice."
Though Jenkins didn't fully understand, he thanked the bell ringer for the warning. He clutched the dice in his hand and surveyed his surroundings, trying to choose one of the five roads to take.
"Let just confirm—as long as I leave the town, I'll see the gate to leave, correct?"
"You'll see it as soon as you approach the edge of town."
"Very well. I'll keep a low profile and won't do anything extra."
With that, he tossed the die in his hand. It clattered to the ground, landing on the number fifteen.
"Good roll. I'll take this path, then."
He bid farewell to the bell ringer at the base of the tower and chose the sa road he had arrived on. The die he had thrown dissolved into a pool of blood that seeped into the street, spreading forward to cover fifteen large flagstones. As Jenkins lifted his foot to step forward, his movent seed to trigger sothing. The dilapidated street before him looked the sa, but the very air seed to change, growing subtly denser. In the faint glow of the moss on the ground and the gri on the walls, Jenkins spotted faint, shadowy figures drifting through the empty street. They were sparse, and without careful observation, they were all but invisible to the naked eye.
These weren't undead or anything of the sort; they were more like phantoms, completely intangible.
"None of my concern."
He muttered to himself and paid them no mind, instead stepping across the large flagstones. When he stopped, he found himself directly to the left of a door.
It was a low, single-story stone building. The windows were sealed with wooden slats, paste, paper, and bits of rubble. A few dried corncobs and so bones—definitely not human—hung from the windowsill. The mont Jenkins stopped, the faint glimr of candlelight spilled through the cracks.
The occupant had noticed soone at their door.
Out of courtesy, Jenkins refrained from peeking through the cracks in the window. Instead, he gave a very light knock on the door, which looked so rickety it might collapse at a touch. He had only ant to test for a reaction, but to his surprise, the door imdiately creaked open a sliver, and an old woman wearing a grimy, brown headscarf poked her head out.
Her face was a landscape of deep wrinkles, and her eyes were narrowed to re slits. Since only her head was visible, he couldn't see her build, but her head was higher than the top of his own. Unless she was standing on a stool, or the floor inside was raised significantly above the street, the old woman had to be over two ters tall.
"I wonder if the townspeople speak the common tongue."
Just as Jenkins was thinking this and about to strike up a conversation, the old woman spoke, cursing at him in fluent Elvish:
"Despicable outsider!"
Then she slamd the door right in his face.
"This corresponds to [The Stranger]."
As this thought crossed his mind, he subconsciously took two steps back. It wasn't that he was frightened, but he was genuinely concerned the flimsy door might collapse from the force of her slam and fall on him.
The door held, but it kicked up so much dust that Jenkins had to wait a mont before he dared to approach again. This was his first stop after rolling the die, and he didn't want to waste a chance to request more.
After a mont's thought, he pulled the [Blasphemy Seed] he'd acquired from his pocket and slipped it through the crack under the door. It was an easy task—the gap was wide enough for a large rat, or even his cat, Chocolate, to slip through.
He only pushed the Sin Coin halfway through, but the mont he let go, it was snatched from the other side. Jenkins straightened up and waited. A mont later, just as he'd expected, the door opened again.
One of Jenkins's favorite rules in any Mysterious Realm was that whoever accepted a Sin Coin was bound to the transaction. There was no risk of soone taking the paynt and running.
With that, Jenkins was down to his last Sin Coin: the [Jade of Ages]. He had acquired this coin, which represented ti, in Black Town, and now it was all he had left.
"What do you want?"
The old woman poked her head out again, her voice still laced with suspicion. She likely hadn't washed her hair in a very long ti; despite the headscarf, the heavy, greasy sll from her matted, greyish-white hair was unmistakable.
Though the stench made him want to gag, Jenkins leaned closer to speak.
"Do you have a task for ? I need more of these dice."
Jenkins added, shaking the small cloth bag.
"Let draw so of your blood, and I'll give you dice."
"Oh, no. I can't do that. Besides, you took my coin. Is this the only task you have to offer?"
Jenkins had no intention of giving his blood to a creature in a Mysterious Realm. That would be an act of utter madness.
"Yes, I took your coin."
The look she gave Jenkins was still filled with loathing, but she didn't slam the door this ti.
"Inject this into yourself, then tell what you see. If you can answer my question, then between that and the coin you gave , I can give you twelve dice."
As she spoke, a rusty, brass-colored syringe, slightly longer than his palm, appeared on the ground in the sliver of open doorway. Its tal needle was the only part free of rust. The old woman must have kicked it out, determined to avoid any physical contact with him.
Reviews
All reviews (0)