Retire 515

515 The Magician’s Child (5)

Even now, and in the future, Hong Seok-young would never admit it.

Some might say that the horrific experiences at Mont-Saint-Michel in the past must have left their mark on Noah Michelle. Hong Seok-young did not deny that point.

But that alone did not make him understand Michelle. What was pitiable remained pitiable, and what was different, remained different.

Perhaps, someday, Hong Seok-young would look back on this day, on what happened in this dungeon, with a certain caution. Perhaps he would wonder if he had judged Michelle too harshly. Perhaps he would wonder if he had been cruel to her.

Yet at the same time, even if time were to repeat itself, Hong Seok-young would have made the same choice. He had made the best decision he could at the time.

He could shake Noah Michelle, cleanly tie up loose ends, and, in addition, extract information about how to alter the dungeon terrain as Kim Chae-min desired.

Hong Seok-young did not regret it.

There was simply too much at stake to allow for regret.

Noah Michelle was not the only child living with painful memories.

Woo Hee-jae was lucky. He survived the lab and was rescued.

Kang Tae-woo was lucky. Unlike the other children who were discarded, he graduated whole and managed to survive.

Kang So-hee was lucky. She caught the attention of Gamble and Hope, and was able to leave a false corpse behind and live in safety.

Woo I-rok was lucky. At least he was classified as a major asset and could stay in a safe care facility.

And Hong Seok-young had seen the unlucky ones.

The reason Lee Mi-seon never stopped working, even as she grumbled about the relentless pace, was because of those children.

The kidnapped children. The ones forgotten before they were even born.

The people who died for those children. Yoo-hwa. The junior who slept in a remote dungeon. The countless unnamed people whose names were never known.

He had never met them in person, but it was not hard to read the gaps in the records that remained. Even within the research facility, there had been those who tried to help the children escape. Whether it was a researcher who was their parent, a cultist who had realized the truth, or nameless children raised within the facility.

Hong Seok-young would never admit that his way of dealing with Michelle was too harsh. If merely stirring up a few childhood memories was to be called cruel, then what about those who lost their lives under Michelle’s cold, calculated management?

When it came to matters involving children, Hong Seok-young did not joke.

But when all this was over, when enough time had passed for him to look back with a cooler head, perhaps one day he would be able to say it calmly.

That Michelle, too, had once been an ordinary child.

But not now.

“Hmm? Was that doll your mother? Or your father?”

That must have been the last of Michelle’s patience.

The doll, its thread severed, lay clattering on the floor. It resembled the other dolls he had seen in the dungeon, though its features were more human.

Hong Seok-young wondered whether he should provoke Michelle further, or stop trying to talk and move on to the next stage.

But the deliberation was brief. Fleeting, even.

Magic approached without a sound.

“…….”

The dungeon’s terrain changed again.

This time, the entire environment did not flip as before. But, just as when Alex had torn space at the stairs and a starless darkness had crept in from the edges, so too did the darkness now begin to eat away at the periphery.

The reason Hong Seok-young did not move even after seeing this was because there was something distinctly different from before.

The library, fully restored from magical damage, now turned to dust, starting from the highest point, as the darkness approached.

Had this shown any more aggressive intent, Hong Seok-young would not have remained still. As he had steeled himself, if his opponent were a monster, it would be another matter, but since it was a human magician, curiosity was inevitable. What, indeed, would she do?

‘So the excuse of preventing recurrence wasn’t just that—an excuse.’

Darkness and dust.

The dust reformed within the darkness.

Not red, but ashen dust sparkled as it met the darkness. Sometimes it looked golden, like Michelle’s magic or a fairy’s eyes; sometimes it was pure, colorless white. Or it would briefly flash red, as when Alex was pursued, and then shimmer gray, like the books still scattering around Hong Seok-young.

That shimmer gathered and gathered, forming shapes. The delicate patterns on the floor glimmered in a faint gray. The massive bookshelves, grand in scale, were white. The books filling the shelves were red. The walls and pillars were gray. The decorations on the shelves were a mix of red and white. And then. And then…

A cluster of golden light became a person.

Of all the dolls Hong Seok-young had seen in this dungeon, this one looked most like a real person.

Disheveled hair. Furrows carved into the forehead. A well-groomed mustache. Stubbornly set lips. A strong jaw. A wrinkled jacket. The first button of the shirt undone. Wrinkled trousers.

Loosened curls. A soft jawline. Lips pursed in embarrassment. A blouse adorned with lace. A thick cardigan. A long skirt reaching the ankles.

A middle-aged man and woman. Their ages clear, their clothing rendered in detail, and yet there was one thing missing.

Eyes.

The places where eyes should be were not empty. The eyes were there. But compared to the rest of their features, the eyes were jarringly crude.

The man and woman faced each other, speaking. Their gestures were tense, their faces stiff.

Around them, other figures gradually appeared. Unlike Michelle’s own doll or the broken one, these had no clear form. They were made only of grains of light. Rather than dolls, it would be more accurate to call them holograms. Like the way magicians sometimes used magic to map out terrain or draw diagrams.

The people who appeared afterward were not as detailed as the first man and woman. Still, from their varied hairstyles and clothing, it was clear that someone had used real people as references. Otherwise, how could so many figures be so unique? Height, gender, body shape—everything was different.

Their only commonality was that none of their eyes were complete.

The endless darkness removed the limits of space. He could not tell how large it truly was, but it was likely smaller than the universe-like expanse he’d seen upon first entering the dungeon. Only the endlessly stretching bookshelves were majestic. Hong Seok-young thought of the old library that had now vanished. This must be the scene most similar to the library of Mont-Saint-Michel.

Of course, the library was gone, but Michelle’s fallen doll remained. Even the broken doll. The eyeball had vanished. Hong Seok-young considered tearing space again, but decided to wait a moment.

The first two figures, the man and the woman, stopped their conversation and looked at Hong Seok-young.

Despite their uncannily lifelike movements, their eyes alone declared that all this was false. Even without that, nothing about this could be mistaken for real.

The eyes blurred, then reformed. Their shapes shifted, but none fit.

Because of the uncanny eyes, it took him a moment to realize—the man and woman were not looking at him. Their gaze was lower. Much lower.

The woman reached out her hand. Her lips moved. A short word. He could read it easily.

Noah.

And for the first time, sound rang out.

[No-ah]

Though the woman’s lips moved, the voice was a man’s. Faint and weary, as if it might vanish at any moment.

[I…]

The woman’s lips stopped after the brief name, but the voice continued a little further, then faded. He could not make out the words, but he could tell it was French.

The voice continued, independent of the hologram’s movements.

[No-ah]

[Noah]

[No]

[Ah]

[Noah]

First in the man’s voice, then as if the woman were speaking. There was the awkward pronunciation of a child, and voices that broke off as if speech itself were unnatural.

Every voice called Michelle’s name.

The woman reached out. As her hand brushed Hong Seok-young’s knee, a child darted out. The woman kissed the child’s forehead and naturally gathered her into her arms.

Unlike the meticulously rendered man and woman, the child was clearly a doll. But unlike the other dolls he had seen, this one moved with the softness of a real child, and had golden hair that floated like a cloud.

“…What were you thinking?”

Hong Seok-young was not startled by the presence at his back.

“Just doing what Mr. Kim asked me to do.”

“Provoking Michelle without a plan?”

“That was a bonus.”

Woo Hee-jae glared at Hong Seok-young, clearly displeased, but said nothing more.

After all, everyone had wanted to learn what drove Michelle. Especially after entering the dungeon, it was clear that whatever had happened at Mont-Saint-Michel in the past might be even worse than what was known.

Worse than having only one survivor?

A grim prospect.

“Have you been here the whole time?”

Hong Seok-young asked Woo Hee-jae.

Woo Hee-jae shook his head.

“It was a similar space, but not the same. At first, it was just pitch black…”

“Hmm. Looks like everyone was dropped into similar places. Same for me. Though I tore my way out right away.”

“I figured as much. I hesitated, but I found something that looked like traces of Michelle’s magic. I followed it and watched. It looked like Michelle’s memories…”

“Like that?”

Hong Seok-young pointed at the dolls—or holograms. It felt like watching a silent film. The woman and man holding the child were conversing with others. Their frustration was obvious, as if the conversation was not going as they wished.

“There was only the child. She kept reading a book… I found an opening there. I was about to leave when—”

“So that was you, Hee-jae.”

“You noticed?”

“If I couldn’t, I shouldn’t be a hunter.”

Ignoring Woo Hee-jae’s exasperation, Hong Seok-young studied the dolls. Among the dozens of people between the shelves, discord was spreading.

The young Noah Michelle doll, perhaps bored by the adults’ quarrel, squirmed. The woman tightened her hold, but eventually gave in and set her down. The man seemed to follow the child as she wandered, then turned back to the conversation at the sound of a voice.

“Where do you think Michelle is?”

“Hmm…”

Hong Seok-young recalled the space he’d glimpsed just before facing Michelle’s doll. A cozy place, filled with warm sunlight.

Perhaps that place was…

“…Did you see that just now?”

“Her magic is wavering.”

“Her magic? Or her spell?”

“Both.”

Hong Seok-young and Woo Hee-jae stood side by side, arms crossed.

It was as if the dolls were being copied. The overall light dimmed, as though it were being divided.

A newly appeared group of dolls began to move. While the original group continued their dissatisfied conversation, the new group walked in formation between the shelves.

“…Something’s off.”

Even in this situation, Hong Seok-young could not help but correct his son.

“Nothing but strange things have happened since we came to America.”

It was a belated remark.