By Zephyria 
“Why do bad people only work at night?”
“Because it’s less conspicuous.”
“It’s actually pretty conspicuous.”
It was too dark to see clearly, but Joo-oh was likely rolling his eyes.
His eyes could distinguish objects and find paths even in the darkness. He must have clearly identified every single human in this place who was currently on guard due to the appearance of strangers.
“But where are we going?”
“I don’t know yet.”
They’d spot something if they just walked around. Mu-hae answered nonchalantly, carefully omitting any irresponsible phrasing.
Anyway, matters related to the Return flight were always like this. In Sakdal, they had wandered the night streets blindly, and most recently, they had relentlessly poked around a big-shot candidate whose identity was unknown until a clue appeared.
The strange thing was that whenever he stepped out with groundless confidence, he obtained plausible results.
Perhaps that confidence wasn’t a simple delusion, but big data accumulated by the subconscious. Planning and coping were done rationally, but in emergencies, moving according to instinct was Mu-hae’s way of survival.
Well, he had rationalized it at length, but in the end, it just meant he intended to wander aimlessly through the night streets of this high-crime district.
Such an act would be extremely dangerous for ordinary people, but they were a veteran mercenary and a Hungry Ghost Aberration. He believed there would certainly be those who recognized Mu-hae’s face, and as long as they didn’t interfere with his work, no punk would dare pick a fight.
“Look at that. There are no windows.”
Joo-oh pointed to a grimy building. The glass had long since been shattered, leaving only the frames blocked by wooden boards, giving it a desolate look.
It was clearly an illegal drug lab or an unlicensed weapon trade post. Or it could be a place that bought stolen goods, or a pawnshop dumping items smuggled from somewhere.
Maybe there was no need to come at night. The atmosphere was more grim than he had expected.
“Hello.”
“Don’t greet them.”
Joo-oh waved his hand at the pitch-black void. Mu-hae wondered which watching vagrant this crazy guy was talking to.
Mu-hae pushed him from the back and grabbed his collar, dragging him along. While Joo-oh had the specs to be devoid of a sense of crisis, he was simply too fearless.
“Did you find something?”
“No. Do you see anything?”
“A bald guy on the third floor over there is watching us.”
“Not that kind of thing. Look for something that reminds you of the Return flight or the code.”
He really was a guy who only listened to and looked at things that interested him. It was fine. Thanks to dark adaptation, the surroundings were starting to become clear.
Mu-hae looked around and walked until the road ended. By then, the strangers who had suddenly appeared realized they weren’t nuisances, and the gazes that had been making the back of his neck itch disappeared.
As they exited the alley, lights began to appear one by one, reminding him that people actually lived here.
Traces of someone’s life were evident. Clothes hung on a flimsy terrace that looked like it would half-tear if kicked, and “OPEN” signs announcing business were attached to the first floor of every building.
“I don’t think they washed their clothes properly. There are stains left.”
“Stop observing useless things.”
The neon lights glowing in various colors—fluorescent sky blue, pink, vivid lime—didn’t feel glamorous at all, unlike in Sakdal.
The signboards, focused solely on attracting attention, couldn’t shake off a cheap feeling. To make matters worse, a foul stench wafted from somewhere.
It was probably the smell of the sewers. No matter how much of a slum it was, the sewage treatment facilities should be operating properly; it must be the season where the official in charge patrols the outskirts with the machinery.
Joo-oh’s eyes glowed with a strange color under the deep blue neon. His face, reflecting coldly under the artificial light, looked strangely unfamiliar, as if he were a different person.
For a moment, Mu-hae felt as if he might vanish somewhere. Without realizing it, he reached out and grabbed the arm that was swinging loosely as he walked.
“Hehe.”
He heard a happy laugh, though Joo-oh didn’t even seem to know why he was being held. The nonsensical anxiety subsided, and Mu-hae’s mind cleared.
“It’s just a neighborhood. Nothing special.”
“I guess so.”
Just as it had been when he first wandered Sakdal, there were no particularly striking signs.
Still, since he had come all this way, he looked around thoroughly, but the variety of strange items placed in every shop was almost overwhelming.
From inside a building they were passing, the smell of meat broth wafted out. Faint light shone through the gaps of windows blocked with adhesive sheets, and seeing an “OPEN” sign with only the ‘P’ remaining at the entrance, he figured it was a restaurant.
“Ugh.”
At the same time, the arm he was holding was yanked forward, nearly making him lose his footing. Joo-oh was heading toward the place as if possessed.
Gulp. The sound of him swallowing his saliva was so loud it almost sounded like a hallucination in Mu-hae’s ears.
“No.”
“I’m hungry.”
“You don’t even know what they sell, and you’re just trying to shove it in your mouth.”
“I had blood drawn, too.”
Although they had eaten dinner relatively early, he had nonetheless put three servings of bread and soup into that stomach. He had served him so generously that he felt no guilt even while looking at those desperate eyes.
However, it seemed Joo-oh was not satisfied. He fidgeted with his hands, looking once at the spot where he stopped, once at Mu-hae, and once more at the loosely closed restaurant door.
“…Do you really have to eat at a place like this? We can just go back and eat something more.”
“It doesn’t smell weird. It’s edible.”
“That’s only because you’re the kind of guy who eats station hot dogs and says they’re delicious.”
“Why? They are delicious.”
Since they didn’t have a clear destination anyway, it would be better to stop by the restaurant and observe the atmosphere.
After some deliberation, Mu-hae slowly opened the door and stepped inside. Ding-dong! As soon as he entered, a grating chime, from who-knows-where, rang out with a static buzz.
“….”
“….”
A man cooking behind a wall checked the new customer through a small window. His face immediately recognized them as strangers.
Joo-oh tapped his arm and pointed to a menu on one side of the wall. Seeing that there was nothing on the tables, it seemed to be a system where customers referred to the menu and ordered on their own.
[Smoked Noodles]
[Smoked Rice Soup]
[Smoked Stir-fry]
[Smoked Fried Rice]
[Smoked Stir-fried Noodles]
‘What on earth are smoked noodles?’
The menu, which didn’t even have photos, was untrustworthy. While Mu-hae was feeling uneasy about whether he should actually put such things in his mouth, Joo-oh rushed to the small window and knocked.
“Give me one of everything.”
He knew he’d do that. It was his own fault for not preempting him.
It was a relief that he only ordered one of each, suggesting he hadn’t completely lost his reason. Mu-hae suppressed a sigh and examined the tables crowded together in the narrow space.
‘The tables are square.’
However, he didn’t see any circular or triangular shapes. Come to think of it, square tables weren’t rare, but because of that damn Sigil of Return, he had become mindful of everything.
Well, there was no law saying the clues found in this district had to be marked with a familiar sigil. Beside him, the man who had become half-paranoid, Joo-oh wore an excited smile.
…At least it was a relief that this guy was excited. Since there was no fixed schedule for the next day, he could just plan to sleep in and wander around until they found something.
Clack.
‘It’s just noodles.’
The question about the strange menu name was resolved more simply than expected. Mu-hae poked the smoked meat—of an unknown creature—with the tip of his chopsticks.
No matter how dilapidated the place was, they wouldn’t serve something inedible, so it was likely just Beast Meat classified as edible.
The ingredients for Gam-na’s jerky that he had seen in the production district flickered before his eyes. Perhaps sensing an ominous feeling that his food might be taken, Joo-oh hurriedly stuffed the fried rice into his mouth.
“You’re only quick-witted at times like this.”
“It’s delicious.”
As he said, the taste wasn’t bad. Except for the excessive amount of spices used to hide the characteristic gamey smell of cheap Beast Meat, it wasn’t much different from what was sold in the Jaegang District.
Watching his companion empty the bowls one by one without even making a chewing sound, Mu-hae recalled the sequence of events remaining for him.
Since the clues to the Starpath were in the work he had jumped into after pushing aside the Return flight, he felt that once he encountered the big shot, the final remaining key would fit into place on its own.
Then, whether the person liked it or not, Mu-hae would witness the possibility of the Return flight. Thinking that far, his stomach began to feel quite uncomfortable.
Not because he feared the suddenly intervening big shot would do something reckless, but because he feared that person might be interested in something similar to the goal of the Return flight, as he suspected.
That he might not be able to stop when he wanted to. That he might not be able to give up on returning the way he came.
“Jin Mu-hae, eat too.”
“You just eat.”
He still didn’t know how an Aberrant could become like a human.
Whether a human became an Aberrant, or an Aberrant became a human, was actually uncertain.
Mu-hae was simply worried about what effect the Starpath would have on this guy of ambiguous identity.
Even though a future liberated from Aberrants and Comfort zones was this close, his hesitation only grew in the face of such an overwhelming achievement.
Mu-hae stared blankly at Joo-oh, who was munching with puffed-out cheeks. He seemed to have no inkling of such anxiety, savoring each piece of food and remembering its taste and shape.
Then, he blurted out something that didn’t even connect to the previous conversation.
“Jin Mu-hae, do what you want to do.”
“…What?”
“Because that’s the Jin Mu-hae I liked.”
“What are you talking about?”
Despite being the one to bring it up, he didn’t answer until the end and immersed himself in the meal again.
The sight of a fist-sized clump of noodles being picked up in one go was almost like something out of a chronicle of eccentric people, but such things no longer caught his eye.
“I’m done eating. Now let’s go eat dessert.”
“What do you mean, dessert?”
The face of the one making the request so naturally was quite blank.
The strange sharpness that had been visible for a brief moment had vanished as quickly as dew in the sun.
230 – I Became an Anomaly in a Dead Game