By Zephyria 
The genre of this world is a ridiculously childish romance simulation with collapsed balance, not a sudden horror thriller. But what? A ghost? I stared blankly at Nicole as if to say, “What kind of nonsense are you talking?” Nicole, looking quite wronged, drooped the ends of his eyebrows and deliberately raised his voice.
“Ah, it’s true! They say the people who’ve seen it aren’t just one or two!”
“Did you see it with your own eyes?”
“W-well, not that, but…”
As the doubtful look in my eyes showed no sign of fading, Nicole, perhaps feeling deflated, grumbled and reduced his voice volume again but never yielded his opinion. He tended to believe such stories quite easily, like when he got scared and clung to me before, saying the Grand Duke Graham eats people or something when we went to the north. Is it because he’s still young? In real age, we’re only separated by three or four years, but since Nicole is the only one around me who acts this fluffy and cute, I kept wanting to tease him.
“But, it’s true…, ah, I said it’s true…”
Since I intended to tease him this time too, I also laughed ‘pfft’ around then and pressed for more details about the rumors circulating among the servants.
?What?Big snake?What is it?Gorin
‘What is it?s-’i aepdeuh
‘St□□□□□□□□
Meanwhile, one corner of my vision was still quietly glowing. It had been like that ever since I unexpectedly escaped from the Spirit’s cave where I had been trapped for days. Judging by the fact that the ‘Communication protocol blocked’ message I saw before wasn’t appearing, it didn’t seem like the communication route was completely blocked. Even though the System must know that I don’t understand the phrases it’s conveying at all, it tirelessly, incessantly, tried to convey something to me without resting for a single moment, often streaming phrases one after another.
“Alright, tell me. What exactly are they saying?”
“So, Young Master. The people who go in to replace the Magic Stone installed by Young Master Allen’s bedside…!Is ‘Sʏ□□e□’ a right to be granted??Let’s combine.
But it didn’t matter. After realizing the System was that damned god of this world, it was no longer even an object of love-hate for me. The System was merely my enemy, something I had to shatter somehow. The sense of betrayal grew even deeper with the thought that it had been blurring my perception all this time so I couldn’t realize its obvious true identity. It made me curious, though. Why did that esteemed god choose me and throw me into such a terrible cycle of suffering? Why does it hover around me so pitifully despite having Allen, whom it loves endlessly? Just what… is it saying?
“So lately, everyone hates going near Young Master Allen’s room, so deciding the rotation for Magic Stone replacement has become a big hassle, you see. They roughly decided to go in pairs, but, I mean, even today during broad daylight, two people went and they still, still, still said they saw it!”
“Uh-huh, I see. So Nicole was very scared.”
While vaguely nodding my head, I inwardly laughed mercilessly at the one up there.
The Allen I know was the one who tenaciously monopolized this world’s, the god’s love.
The one who gathered all sorts of luck, love, and fate for him, cherishing him so, was surely that ‘young god blinded by greed’ the Spirit spoke of, the one that was the ‘System’ to me.
During the past few days when the System seemed to have fallen into some difficult-to-resolve error. During that exact same period, Allen had not even opened his eyes once, fallen into a deep sleep, and bizarre rumors started circulating that a ghost had been seen near his room.
Isn’t the timing excessively coincidental? There must be a connection. That conviction strongly washed over me.
“Ugh, what should we do? Everyone’s making a fuss, saying that Young Master Allen can’t wake up because he’s possessed by a ghost or something…, that we should call a priest right away…”
“Don’t worry. It shouldn’t be a ghost possession.”
“Really?”
“Of course. Really.”
I patted the trembling young Nicole’s shoulder and flashed him a grin. How could it possibly compare to a mere ghost? The one holding Allen back from waking up must be none other than that guy, the god of this world.
***
Is anyone there?
Whoosh.
“…”
The other side?
Whoosh.
“Good…”
No one’s here. As planned. A late hour closer to dawn than night. I carefully lifted my eyelids that kept trying to droop and cautiously stepped into the corridor, one foot at a time. I wanted to take a look earlier, but to avoid people’s attention, there really was no opportunity other than now. The mere thirty-minute gap past midnight when even the large puppy relentlessly scratching at my door until then had tired and gone back on its own, and when the night shift and dawn shift duties changed, leaving not a single servant present.
I came out barefoot to reduce the sound even a little, and perhaps because of that, a chilling cold seeped eerily from the soles of my feet. Ugh, it’s cold. The endlessly dark corridor was not only silent but also somehow creepy. Yet I advanced forward without hesitation. I’ve been through too much, endured and struggled for too long, to hesitate out of fear for something as ridiculous as a ghost. The sleepiness gradually vanished from the cold rising from the floor. Where Allen was staying was just one floor above my room. Having to move stealthily by eye alone without even a candlestick was quite inconvenient.
Tap, tap, taptap, tap.
As I gradually, gradually approached Allen’s room, the faint sound coming from somewhere grew louder. At first, I thought it was the sound of my footsteps, but it wasn’t. It was a strange sound, like something reduced to embers burning away, or like a newly kindled spark catching fire. What was certain was that the sound evoked a very instinctive revulsion in people. With an irregular rhythm—tap, taptap, thud, tap—echoing through the corridor, it displayed its presence, small yet certain, as if thin fingernails were tapping on my eardrums.
□□□□□□□!!
WAR□□□□!!
What is it so desperately trying to hide from me? As the mysterious sound grew closer, one corner of my vision turned entirely crimson. It was the warning message the System was sending. Even looking back through all past iterations, this was the first time I’d seen such an urgent and, simultaneously, such a pathetic warning alert. It was even more so as a restriction on my actions rather than an external threat. Until now, the System had rather than bothering to stop me, when it judged it really needed to stop me, it simply and very easily sliced away my unconsciousness. There had been times, many times. Its manipulation was so clever and perfect. Only much later would I wonder why I had acted that way before, barely noticing its manipulation. Even such wonderings could only remain in my memory under the System’s permission, so there were probably countless times it had arbitrarily scrambled my consciousness without me knowing.
Which means…
W□RNI□□!!
This crude warning window, busy blaring now, is nothing less than proof that the coercive interference it had been wielding over me is now powerless.
Now that it’s come to this, I must somehow get to the bottom of it. Maybe even Allen’s mysterious power, which had interfered with me time and again, was all given by the System. Perhaps the reason Allen’s demeanor changed in this iteration is also because the domain the System permitted him has grown larger.
It was only after the goal consciousness of wanting to have all the love interests in my grasp, or the subtle hostility and competitive spirit toward Allen, had all faded into black obscurity. The only thing moving my two legs now was the sole desire to clearly uncover the relationship between the System and Allen.
Not even the headache-inducing, clamorous warning sounds and flashy alert windows could block my steps, swept up in this strange fervor. Finally, I crossed the threshold without a sound.
“…!”
And there. Allen was lying.
Taptaptap, thud, tap, taptaptap, tap. Tap, taaaaap.
Over a face whose form was completely distorted, scratching and scraping at something indiscernible.
An intangible hand tried to gather the dust-like particles scattering in the air, attempting to piece together Allen’s face. But no matter how many times it scraped and collected, Allen’s face would invariably crumble and scatter, like a sandcastle collapsing in the waves.
Before I knew it, the frantically blaring alarms and notification windows had all disappeared. I walked forward hesitantly, goosebumps erupting all over my body. The closer I got, the more horrifying the face, which had seemed merely blurred from afar, revealed itself.
Allen’s beautiful face, so like my own, was split into hundreds, thousands of fragments… constantly flickering, barely holding together before scattering again.
This isn’t a person. This, it can’t possibly be a living person…!
Thud.
The unidentifiable mass that could no longer be called Allen grabbed my wrist tightly. And then.
Noah.
It whispered my name. Despite not even having lips to move, it was so affectionate and gentle.