The Nonexistent Hardcover Book

In a pitch-dark little room.

A dozen or so children slept on a large shared bed.

They were all boys, around twelve or thirteen years old.

Each was curled up, sleeping uneasily, not even daring to stick a hand out from under the covers.

"Pfft!"

The Candle Lamp on the left wall suddenly lit up.

The boy sleeping at the far left was dazzled by the candlelight. He curled deeper under the covers and kicked the boy to his right.

The boy who was kicked sleepily kicked the boy to his right.

One after another, they passed the kick along until the boy at the far right was kicked into the wall.

"Mm..."

Thor groaned softly, rubbed his aching knee, then climbed to his feet in a daze. He stood there for a moment, trying to wake himself up.

"Go... If you're late, the Wizard Lord will turn you into fertilizer," the boy beside him reminded him, sounding half-asleep.

Thor pressed a hand to the old wound on his forehead. The faint sting cleared his head, and at last he began to move briskly.

He quickly climbed out of bed, put on the servant's uniform hanging on the wall, pushed open the door, and stepped outside.

Beyond the door stretched a long, curved corridor. Every few meters, a door stood on either side. A lit candle sconce hung beside each door, doing its best to dispel the corridor's chill with a weak, yellow glow.

By the candlelight, Thor glanced at his left shoulder.

A Hardcover Book, no bigger than his palm, floated there.

"It still hasn't disappeared? Maybe it isn't a hallucination."

Ever since he had transmigrated here a few days ago, the book had floated above his left shoulder.

He could see it but not touch it, and no one else could see it.

Thor had called out for a system and begged for a chip, but nothing had answered. In the end, he could only chalk it up to a hallucination caused by his head injury.

But a hallucination shouldn't have lasted so many days without disappearing.

Whether or not it was a hallucination, Thor had things to do. He didn't have time to keep studying it.

The place where he lived was a Wizard Tower.

Since transmigrating, Thor had never once left the tower.

And as a servant here, he had to get up at around four every morning and mop the floors of the corridors on the eleventh through thirteenth floors. There couldn't be any obvious stains or garbage left behind. Otherwise, he'd be chopped up and used as fertilizer.

The corridors had to be cleaned before the candlelight changed from a dim yellow to a bright white flame. Otherwise, he might run into a Wizard Apprentice heading out and get dragged off for an experiment.

Those Wizard Apprentices all looked strange, and they were extremely short-tempered and impatient, as if Death were chasing them every day.

Thor's predecessor had been killed by a book thrown by a Wizard Apprentice. His body had been dumped in the storage room and nearly thrown out with the trash.

When he'd crawled out of the storage room with blood all over his face, even the Butler had almost thought he was a ghost.

After confirming he wasn't dead, the Butler had immediately assigned him work. Thor hadn't even had time to recover from his injuries before he was sent off to work.

That had been his life ever since.

Once his memories came to an end, Thor went to the storage room beside the dormitory to get a mop, a bucket, and a trash can. He loaded them onto a small handcart and pushed it along.

They said the wheels had been inscribed with a silencing spell to avoid disturbing the Wizard Apprentices, whose nerves were extremely fragile.

Thor had studied the patterns on them closely over the past two days. Aside from a slight dizziness, he'd gotten nothing out of it.

He yawned and began another day's work in the chilly morning air.

The corridor was, to be exact, a semicircle. A door stood every few meters on both sides.

Room numbers were written on the plaques hanging on the doors.

The body Thor had transmigrated into could read. After a few days of exploring, he'd also recovered some basic knowledge from his fragmented memories.

While cleaning the eleventh floor, Thor heard sobbing behind one of the doors.

Whenever the crying began, the candle flames on either side of the door would flicker gently. The shifting light and shadows were terrifying.

Thor tugged his collar tighter. The cold chased away every trace of sleepiness.

He quickly pretended he knew nothing and had heard nothing, and hurriedly mopped the floor there.

There was a strange person on the twelfth floor who liked to throw garbage outside their door.

Hair, shredded paper, chunks of unknown meat...

Thor had gotten used to cleaning it up whenever he passed.

He used the little shovel hanging beside the trash can to collect all the garbage. As he turned to take it away, he heard a faint scraping sound.

He quickly turned around. The door behind him had opened a narrow crack, but beyond it was pitch-black. He couldn't see a thing.

Thor felt every hair on his body stand on end. His hands trembled faintly. He wanted to run, but he was afraid the Wizard Apprentice inside would think he was being disrespectful.

He'd only been in this strange, terrifying place for a few days, but the lesson drilled into him more than any other was to show every Wizard Apprentice the utmost respect and humility.

Thor was just a twelve-year-old boy with no abilities at all, and he was small and thin.

A powerful Wizard Apprentice could crush him with a finger.

As for Wizards—ha. Someone of his status would never even get to meet one.

Thor waited for a while, his heart pounding.

There was no sound from behind the door.

Time was short. Keeping a wary eye on the door, he mopped the floor while staring fixedly at the crack.

At last, he passed it. The curved corridor hid the door from view.

Thor's tense shoulders relaxed a little as he pushed the cart up the slope to the next floor.

The Thirteenth Floor.

As someone who had transmigrated, Thor was sensitive to that number.

Even though he'd once been a materialist, in a strange world filled with Wizards and monsters, it was best to err on the side of caution.

They said the previous servant in charge of cleaning had died on the Thirteenth Floor.

Thor had cleaned here over the past two days, too, and hadn't found anything unusual. Even so, the floor still made him uncomfortable.

Nothing had happened, and yet his hair still stood on end, while his fingers trembled despite himself.

Thor lowered his head and mopped the floor with all his strength, using the physical labor to dispel his unease.

But the thing he feared most still happened.

As he passed the third door, the room to his front right... suddenly began to seep bright red blood from beneath its door.

The blood was vivid and viscous, with a heavy, rank stench.

It was clearly nothing good.

The blood flowed to the middle of the corridor, then finally stopped spreading.

According to the Butler's instructions, Thor had to clean up any obvious mess.

He gripped the mop tightly, gritted his teeth, and braced himself to go clean it.

Just then, the Hardcover Book on his left shoulder suddenly flew in front of his chest and flipped open with a rustle.

Thor froze. It was the first time the Hardcover Book had changed.

His heart lifted. Could his cheat have sensed he was in danger and come out to save him?

Thor kept the blood on the floor in the corner of his eye, but most of his attention was on the book.

The Hardcover Book opened to a blank page. Several lines appeared on it at astonishing speed:

[Shuoyue Calendar, Year 314, May 21,

While cleaning the corridor floor, you saw a pool of blood seeping out from behind a door. Though terrified, you went over to mop it up so you could finish your task and avoid being turned into fertilizer.

But this floor was so hard to clean! Why was there more and more blood the longer you mopped?

You looked down and understood. It was your own body that wouldn't stop bleeding!

The next day, a dried corpse was found in the Wizard Tower's garbage room.]

Thor's legs gave way, and he nearly fell backward into the trash can.

He braced himself with the mop handle and looked at the pool of blood, still shaken.

"So my cheat warns me when I'm in mortal danger. In this creepy, terrifying place, that's pretty useful."

He'd never considered that the Hardcover Book might be lying to him.

What did he have that anyone would want to deceive him for?

Thor carefully pushed the cart, intending to go around the blood. Just then, the Hardcover Book in front of him changed again.

[You feared the unknown pool of blood and decided not to clean this part of the floor.

In the morning, the Butler summoned you because the floor wasn't clean.

The next day, the flower house had some new fertilizer. You were very pleased with your new, stinky form.]

Thor: "..."

Damn it!

Would he die no matter what he chose?

A new writer and a new book. Please add it to your collection and read to the last page. Thank you!