Chapter 25:
The person who placed a hand on my shoulder from behind—
It was…
‘…I almost had a heart attack.’
I whispered resentfully, and Jimmy responded with a quiet chuckle.
‘Did I scare you that much?’
‘Seriously. Why did you follow me all the way here?’
Jimmy shrugged.
‘No matter how I looked at it, I just couldn’t let a lady like you go to a place like this alone. It just didn’t sit right as a man…’
As if. I scoffed internally.
‘Just admit you were worried.’
‘Yes, I was worried. Happy now?’
Thanks to that brief bit of banter, the tension eased for a moment.
Step, step—
…Footsteps echoed from the corridor I had just walked down.
‘…!’
Neither of us said a word.
Jimmy and I instinctively exchanged glances.
We quickly lifted a tapestry hanging on one wall, revealing a recessed alcove behind it.
‘Jimmy, this way.’
The moment we both safely hid behind the tapestry in the wall’s alcove—
Thud, thud.
A massive man entered the room with heavy, thunderous steps.
His head was abnormally large, and his bumpy skin was dark and grayish, like lifeless flesh.
His eyes were unfocused and cloudy.
His arms, as thick as tree trunks, were swollen and bluish, as if blood couldn’t circulate properly.
Like someone under a trance, the gravekeeper moved in a robotic gait toward a coffin.
With a vacant expression, he slowly lifted the lid.
“……”
Jimmy and I held our breath and silently observed.
‘Look at that.’
Jimmy whispered in my ear, having noticed something shiny in the man’s right hand.
‘What is he planning to do with a dissection scalpel?’
The answer came quickly.
…Because the man began slicing open the corpse’s abdomen.
‘…!’
Jimmy recoiled in horror, but I didn’t take my eyes off him.
Soon, the man pulled out something resembling a syringe and injected a blue liquid into the corpse.
He smeared some ground-up substance over the face, and then sprinkled dirt from a sack he’d brought along.
Once the preparation was complete, the man began to chant a prayer of sorts.
“Our Father in heaven… grant this world perfect and utter chaos…”
The words themselves were already disturbing—
But what started in English soon morphed into an unknown, foreign language.
“Sebehy er rut ta desheret…”
The guttural, growling pronunciation sent chills down my spine.
“Iw iyin s n kekw…”
And the body inside the coffin… slowly sat up.
…Just as I’d feared—it was a corpse.
Judging by the bluish hue of its body and the blotched, discolored face, it had been dead for quite some time.
Dirt caked all over its body made it look like it had just clawed its way out of the grave.
“Hrk…”
Beside me, Jimmy let out a choked gasp and whispered:
“That’s… that’s Willy.”
Willy? The friend who’d supposedly gone back to his hometown recently?
Why was he here…?
Jimmy turned pale with shock—or was it fear?
He trembled violently, muttering to himself as though in a trance.
“No wonder… I thought it was weird that he stopped writing…”
And in the next moment—
Before I could stop him, Jimmy darted out from behind the tapestry.
“Jimmy!”
I called out, trying to stop him, but it was too late.
Consumed by rage or madness, Jimmy began pounding on the gravekeeper’s back with his fists.
“You bastard! What the hell did you do to Willy?!”
At that moment—
The gravekeeper’s chanting abruptly stopped.
And whether it was due to that or something else, the corpse that had been standing on its own—
Thud!
Collapsed into the coffin like a puppet whose strings had been cut.
Grrrr— The gravekeeper growled like a beast as he slowly turned around.
Having witnessed his friend’s corpse, Jimmy seemed completely unhinged.
“What did you do to my friend?!”
His eyes were half-rolled back as he charged, but the man didn’t budge, likely due to the size difference.
‘If this keeps up…’
I, hidden in the alcove, reached into my coat for the pistol I kept inside.
Thwack!
—With a sickening sound, a horrible scream followed.
…I looked up.
Jimmy had been stabbed by the gravekeeper’s knife.
“Guh…”
“Jimmy!”
Even as the light rapidly faded from his eyes, Jimmy managed to cry out to me.
“Please, r… run…”
But I had no intention of running.
‘I’ll save you, Jimmy. Just hold on.’
And the next moment—
I burst out from the alcove.
“Jimmy!”
Calling out his name on purpose, I drew the gravekeeper’s attention.
He immediately pulled the knife from Jimmy’s body and charged at me.
“There was another one!”
I had no means of protecting myself—
Thwack—
The blade pierced straight through my chest.
‘Good. That’s exactly where I needed it—to the heart.’
The pain might be complete, but at least…
It would end quickly.
“Ugh…”
As he pulled the knife from my chest, blood gushed out.
But I aimed the pistol I had prepared directly at the sneering man’s face.
‘Even if he comes back to life—’
Click.
I finished loading it.
“Wh-What the hell?!”
Fear filled the man’s eyes.
‘He’s not immune to pain, after all.’
…So why should I be the only one to suffer?
He tried to step back—but I was faster.
Bang!
“Gahhh!”
A sharp scream rang out with the smell of gunpowder.
Thud—the gravekeeper collapsed to the floor.
As I felt the warmth drain from my body, dizziness overwhelmed me.
And then, moments later, I heard the voice I always heard.
—O unfaithful apostle, Emily.
—I shall personally turn back your time…
‘Unfaithful apostle, huh.’
The strange phrasing nearly made me laugh.
But from the perspective of the Yellow King…
It made sense.
When an ‘apostle’ dies, the ‘King’s Blessing’ activates—a loop of infinite return.
But there’s one absolute, inviolable rule:
No matter the circumstance—
You must never take your own life.
“Ugh…”
A dreadful sensation like someone forcibly digging into my brain.
I groaned, writhing, and Helena turned toward me.
“What’s wrong?”
“No, it’s… nothing…”
I tried to dismiss it, but the rising pain kept me from finishing the sentence.
“Are you hurt?”
“Ugh… my head…”
The pain was far worse than usual. Helena helped me to the bed.
I lay down, trying to catch my breath.
‘Surely I’m not being punished for attempting suicide… right?’
Helena looked at me with concern.
“Did something happen? Something bothering you…?”
“Hoo… It’s nothing…”
I barely managed to speak.
Helena said nothing more, simply gazing at me.
Her dark eyes shimmered briefly with an unreadable emotion.
“Just rest for now, Emily. You may have overdone it.”
As she stood up, I asked:
“Helena, what’s today’s date?”
“You’re asking that out of nowhere…”
She sighed but told me the date.
And I realized—I had returned to the day I received the invitation from Baron Moriarty.
That could only mean one thing.
‘I need to accept the invitation and cooperate with him!’
I sighed in frustration and tucked the letter back into my coat pocket.
Thankfully—or maybe not—no new memories had surfaced this time.
…Though perhaps some memories had been erased.
“By the way, Helena.”
I decided to finally ask the question I’d kept buried in my heart.
“Hmm?”
“You once told me that, about three months before Randolph disappeared, my husband and I started fighting often.”
“Oh, that. Well, I only heard it from Randolph, so I can’t say for sure.”
Helena nodded, recalling.
According to Randolph, I had started wandering outside barefoot like a sleepwalker.
I’d go out silently, even spend nights away—and act afterward like nothing had happened.
“At first, I didn’t believe Randolph. I thought, ‘No way Emily would do that.’ But then…”
Helena sighed deeply.
“There was a time I dropped by your house unexpectedly.”
Randolph had asked her to do so, since he had to leave on a business trip.
“He was worried about leaving you alone.”
“Ha. Treating me like a child.”
I clicked my tongue, annoyed, but Helena shook her head.
“No, listen. I thought so too at first. That Randolph was being overprotective. But when I went to your house…”
She saw something unexpected.
…I had been talking with someone in the parlor. Someone completely unimaginable.
When she said who it was, my eyes widened.
“No way.”
“I swear it’s true. You were meeting with Professor Enoch Bowen. He’s actually—”
I cut her off, lifting my head.
“…The founder of the heretical cult ‘Wisdom of the Stars,’ and the prime suspect in the ‘Providence Mass Disappearance’ case. An American.”
Helena stared at me for a moment before replying.
“So you knew who he really was.”
“Yes, but… I don’t understand. Why would I ever meet with him?”
I’d only ever heard his name.
There had never been any connection between us.
“I wondered that too. So right after he left, I tried questioning you about it…”
And my response had been consistent.
“…I said I didn’t remember anything, didn’t I?”
