It Was a Monster

Inside the castle, in the hall directly opposite the entrance, stood an absurdly large oval table covered with a thick purple tablecloth. Both sides of it were now filled with all sorts of people—or, rather, monsters.

At that moment, they were all turning to look toward the entrance, each wearing a smile.

The children's eyes were glazed over. They could no longer react to this bizarre and shocking scene. Han Su, among the crowd, was just as numb.

He had been "welcomed" by these monsters many times already, and he had long since grown desensitized to it. Instead, as he walked toward the castle with the crowd, he simply made a habit of observing every little detail around him.

First, he looked toward the rose-covered wall in the northwest corner. Behind the weeds, he saw many boards nailed across it in every direction.

There had been a hole there, just big enough for a small child to squeeze through.

That had been the route he took the first time he escaped. But after he was kidnapped back from the future for the second time, the hole had been patched up.

Similar repairs had happened many times. Originally, this rundown bunker had been full of gaps left by time or some other force, places where children could squeeze in and out.

He had escaped through these loopholes more than once. But every time he was kidnapped back, the gap he had used to escape the previous time would usually be sealed. It was as if some invisible force kept fixing the bugs in this castle.

And yet, the monsters here seemed not to know that he had escaped countless times. They didn't remember his escapes.

As Han Su pondered this, he entered the castle hall with the children, whose eyes were still glazed over. The monsters seated around the oval table slowly turned their heads toward them.

Han Su had counted them countless times, and had secretly studied them just as often.

They were all different shapes, and somewhat resembled the sketches Song Chushi had made back then. But the uncanny, terrifying sense of life they gave off was far beyond anything a sketchbook could capture.

There were seven of them, scattered around the oval table, with many empty seats nearby. Place settings and chairs had been laid out in front of every empty seat, and some even had half a glass of wine poured. That puzzled Han Su. Were there other monsters who hadn't come yet?

Unfortunately, in all his many attempts to escape, he had never seen any other monsters.

His gaze shifted to the corner by the stairs, where a lonely candlestick stood. It was made of brass, over a meter tall, and covered in intricate patterns. But there was no candle on it, only a spike.

Just like the rose bushes, the candle that had once been there had been taken away.

His gaze then fell on the pale, bloated monster in a tight suit beside the long table. At its waist, he spotted a brass key.

His spirits lifted a little. Good. The key is still with the Pale Giant.

That means the door is on its floor too. In other words, I just need to retrace as much of my previous route as possible, and I can escape...

"Clap, clap."

The butler clapped twice, lightly. The sound was crisp and elegant.

Just as his clapping had made all the children's eyes glaze over and silenced their fussing, this time the claps seemed to flip a switch back on. All the children suddenly came to their senses.

They lifted their heads and looked around, their faces gradually filling with fear.

One of them spotted the monk at the table, dressed in a black cassock and crawling with insects from head to toe. He let out a wail and burst into tears.

"These are the lucky children chosen by our great emperor..."

The pale-faced butler smiled. His two white-gloved hands were clasped together as he looked around at the monsters by the table. "I hope they'll be to your liking."

"Hiss, hiss!"

As soon as the butler spoke—or perhaps as soon as the children came to their senses and showed the fear of the living—the monsters around the table all began to smile. They whispered to one another, their gazes sweeping back and forth over the children.

Their voices were strange, unlike any language Han Su had ever heard in the real world. They sounded like the language of another species, mysterious and uncanny.

Before, Han Su had paid no attention to these sounds. But now, as he listened, he felt a flicker of recognition.

The language sounds a little like Fishing Horn...

The voices played in the Disaster Management Bureau were definitely one of these monsters' languages, too. They just weren't as clear as this.

The recording played in the Disaster Management Bureau sounded much older. It had the monsters' language mixed with a lot of static... as if their speech had been captured by accident.

*...*

Instinctively, he tried to listen closely and memorize their language.

But soon, he realized how difficult it was. When he listened to Fishing Horn on the voice recorder, it was easy to remember and repeat precisely.

But facing these monsters, he couldn't manage it so easily. Their speech was a blur, and he couldn't retain any of it.

"Uncle..."

In the eerie, oppressive atmosphere, a child in a little blue suit suddenly raised his hand, gathering his courage.

He looked up at the butler beside him and asked bravely, "Is this... is this the science museum?"

The butler turned to look at him. He didn't answer, only smiled at him.

His expression was kind and gentle, but stiff. He held the same smile, its curve never changing. Though he stood perfectly still, his smiling face seemed to grow larger in the children's view.

It felt as if it were about to press against their faces.

The child who had asked the question began to tremble. He lowered his hand and looked away, his whole body shaking uncontrollably.

Just then, one of the monsters slowly rose from the table.

Everyone's attention was drawn to him. It was the monk in the black cassock.

Even when seated, twisted worms had kept crawling in and out of his collar, cuffs, and trouser hems.

But his expression was calm and rigid. He slowly walked away from the table, the sleeves of his cassock hanging down, his face solemn. He looked like a compassionate monk from the last century, walking through the ruins of the world.

He walked straight toward a little boy in the crowd.

The boy was chubby, with gleaming leather shoes and hair slicked tightly against his scalp with pomade. He watched in terror as the monk came closer.

The children around him grew frightened and shrank away from his side.

Suddenly, the boy panicked. He squeezed his eyes shut, his legs shook, and a large wet patch began spreading across his white trousers.

The moment the smell of urine spread through the air, the black-clad monk stopped in his tracks. The worms crawling in and out of every hole in his body seemed to recoil in disgust.

After a moment, the monk changed direction slightly.

He looked straight at a girl in the crowd and slowly held out his palm to her.

The palm was riddled with holes in its rotting flesh, with worms crawling in and out. A powerful stench emanated from it.

The little girl in the crowd had already been standing there with her lips tightly pressed together in fear. When the monk reached out to her, she finally started to cry. But she didn't make a sound, and she didn't dare move. She just stood there, dazed.

The monk took her hand. His rotten palm moved gently as he slowly led her toward the spiral staircase. Worms kept crawling out from his arm and wrist, traveling up the little girl's arm and burrowing into her sleeves and collar.

Terrified, the little girl could only follow him in a daze.

"Let her go..."

All the children were terrified. They could only watch, sympathetic and bewildered, as the monk led the girl away.

But just then, a braided ponytail girl suddenly darted out of the crowd. She grabbed the stiff girl's hand and shouted.

She looked a head taller than the other children, as if she were older. In truth, she was the same age. As she grabbed the little girl with one hand, she snatched up the candlestick by the stairs with the other.

"She's scared. She doesn't want to go with you..."

She shouted at the monk covered in worms, and at the other monsters, too. "We... we have to go back to school. We..."

"The police will come looking for us! The police will come looking for us..."

"..."

The other children were so startled by the braided ponytail girl's actions that they even forgot to cry.

In the crowd, Han Su felt his heart slowly sink.

No wonder Song Chushi had given up his comfortable life and wandered the world searching for her for a full ten years.

Every time, this girl was the first to step forward.

She always protected the weaker children.

Even his first chance to escape had been thanks to her.

Back then, there had still been a thick tallow candle on the candlestick she picked up. When she swung it around, she set the carpet on fire and drew the monsters' attention. He seized the chance to run out through the door before it closed and squeeze through the rose bushes.

Unfortunately, the chances and loopholes that could let him escape had grown fewer and fewer. Without that door, it was already very difficult for him to get away.

The only unknown was whether the Spell he had brought this time would work.