No Dark Secrets In This Book

Episode 130

The location where Ryuseong was located was right outside Scheherazade’s room. Ryuseong, who had no intention of falling for Cassice’s mischievous magic and had been paying attention to Cassice, unlike Shin Myohan who said he would go look around other places, ended up quietly settling down near that noisy place.

It wasn’t a place he knew before the regression. But he roughly knew about Alea. So even after seeing the sudden concept of telling scary stories, he could roughly guess its meaning. And when the goblin said to talk about the ‘story that made you despair’, his heart sank even though he thought his prediction was correct.

The scariest, most terrifying, and saddest story in life. A miserable, desperate event that left trauma in life and makes you unable to stop lamenting.

‘They dared to try to break you…’

It was heartbreaking that an event with such weight had to be told in this way.

***

‘If they’re going to make you not remember it here anyway, why did they impose a penalty! You crazy professors!’

Ah, my blood pressure suddenly began to rise. I did that to hear Logan’s weakness, but at this rate, wouldn’t I just be losing out after removing the gag?

The following words drove a wedge into me who was about to go crazy.

“It won’t remain in anyone’s memory. Not in the person next to you, not in the professors. I’m a book made of bamboo from the bamboo grove! I brushed past your fate to become your bamboo grove.”

While saying that, the goblin grew bigger and bigger, becoming an adult figure. Its five-colored jacket began to turn black, becoming the neatly tied hem of a robe and a black hat.

Although its appearance gave the feeling of a grim reaper, it didn’t feel ominous or dark.

‘Rather, if it’s an affection so deep that it’s heartbreaking….’

Anyway, it didn’t seem like the professors planned this event because they were sadists who enjoyed tormenting the students. The goblin, with an even more handsome face, floated in the air, looking down at all of us and said,

“I will remember your stories. I will remember the wounds you hold in your hearts. You are those with power. Do not neglect your wounds until your minds become vulnerable. Spill it out. Shake it off and throw it away. I listen to your stories on the condition that my existence disappears the moment I divulge them.”

Just when I was wondering how well the challenger specialized therapy session would do, the goblin declared firmly and solemnly. As if embracing such lovely children…

“So I’ll say it again. None of your stories can be taken out of this world by anyone, so please feel free to spill them out with confidence. No one in this room will be able to take the stories outside.”

So I realized what I had to do.

“Anyone can start. Make it fun. Unconditionally fun. The poignant tragedy of your life.”

Soon after, the goblin declared the start of the story.

But after a while…

“Are there only cowards here?”

The goblin ended up losing its affection for humanity. That was because Capone, who volunteered as the next speaker, also mumbled nonsense and ruined the story with a ghost popping out development. Well, I understand, but…

‘I wouldn’t want to talk either unless I was certain the memory would be erased.’

It was then, when everyone entered the mode of playing it safe.

“Okay, let me introduce a special rule for your motivation! It’s simple. I’ll give a prize to whoever tells the scariest story!”

For the first time, everyone began to look at the goblin with an interested expression. The goblin continued with an even more exaggerated tone.

“Receiving benefits in the mission? It’s possible. I can let you use teleportation limited to the field, all kinds of privileges like that are all possible. If it’s in here, I’ll even let you use rising martial arts! Anything is possible!”

Oh… this is it, right?

I deliberately asked as if it was no big deal.

“Is it also possible to remove the penalty?”

The goblin raised one eyebrow. It remembered that I saved Logan and received a penalty. It certainly looked amused.

“Oho? If the story you hold is that scary, it’s possible. But can you do that?”

“Is it also possible to receive 100 million won in mission allowance?”

“Likewise, if it’s the scariest?”

“Then remove the penalty and give me 100 million.”

“I never said I’d give you both.”

I knew it. I chuckled slightly as if suppressing a sneer that was about to come out.

“You say anything is possible, but you don’t seem confident?”

“…You’re making me expect a lot. Don’t betray that expectation and make me resentful.”

In the end, since the other party was a goblin, it fell for the provocation properly.

I pretended to sneer at it even more.

“Since you say that, I’ll have to show you my true skills.”

“You’re quite confident. Then try starting!”

“No, no.”

Me as the first speaker? No way. Even professional writers look at what they wrote once and fix it, right? I made the story, but I needed more time to make it scarier. As stories always are, even if the average is guaranteed, don’t you need this and that to be excellent? To summarize, it was a trick to act stubborn until the end and then present it in the most polished form, but I boasted.

“Shouldn’t you eat the most delicious thing at the very end?”

“…Your spirit is quite good!”

The goblin seemed to like what I said. I, who was granted the last turn, watched the remaining members draw lots.

‘Good. Mission accomplished in ripping off the mission allowance I lost because of Logan.’

It’s better than ripping off a person, isn’t it?

While I was admiring my ethics and goodness, Lee Hyang was selected as the first storyteller.

“What I’m going to talk about is a story of a secret group ritual in Korea.”

Hmm, is it a story about a cult or a pseudo-religion? It’s a story you can sufficiently experience in life if you’re unlucky. Lee Hyang carefully continued,

“You guys will know about this ritual too. No, you can’t not know.”

I don’t know though. In the midst of everyone’s confusion, the story continued anyway.

“It’s a ritual where blood relatives honor the dead for generations. They gather together at the time the moon rises. Among blood relatives. There are various rules. For example, in strict places, no matter how hot it is, you can’t even turn on a fan during the ritual. But the most famous and common thing is that there is a forbidden fruit. In this ritual, there should be no hesitation on the path the dead come and go, and the door must be wide open to welcome them.”

While the Koreans quickly bowed their heads, Lee Hyang calmly continued,

“There is a special rule of inheritance of blood. So usually the elder goes to greet them first, but the first son of the first son who inherited the blood may also step forward. The offerings are prepared by the women of the family gathered together. When the dead arrive at the offerings, the descendants gather and bow twice….”

While the foreigners listened with a serious expression, I bit my lip hard.

This is…

‘It’s ancestral rites.’

I resented Lee Hyang. He seemed to think it would somehow work since there were many foreigners here…

“After finishing the offerings, they now bestow ‘something’ upon their descendants. It could be a blessing or a curse. The offerings dedicated to the dead in that way become the meal of the living after the ritual is over.”

Please, I’m dying because of Lee Hyang. Although my body is Cassice Demillang, my soul was once Korean. Lee Hyang ended his speech in an eerie tone.

“…It’s a story that actually happens somewhere even now.”

Then Hae Yuna chimed in with a choked voice. To others, it probably sounded like she was feeling helpless and heartbroken.

“That’s right, that’s right. Even now…”

All the while, the goblin was looking at us with an expression that it would die of laughter. Especially to some groups who were shocked to learn for the first time about some sacrificial ritual being carried out in Korea. The goblin said,

“Good. Most of you seemed scared. Whether to call it clever or cunning to pass off a story like that… Well, how was it, everyone?”

Then each person’s expression, for example, those who tried their hardest to pretend to be scared or those who were really creeped out, all changed to a startled one. Capone muttered,

“What story did we hear…?”

Dietrich also looked puzzled and confused.

“I remember it was creepy and eerie, but…”

Others also chimed in.

“I don’t remember at all!”

“I think I listened to it rather enjoyably.”

“What was it? Did you really tell a story?”

Only after confirming that everyone had lost their memory did they seem to feel at ease. They seemed to be reassured that they could really tell a deep story.

Except for me, who remembered everything.

Uh… didn’t they say that everyone in this room would lose their memory? But my memory is vivid. What’s the problem this time?

‘Ah, am I not human again?’