Chapter 106

The moment I opened my eyes, a fit of coughing tore through me. I jerked up from the sofa, keeping only my head tilted over the floor as I hacked up everything rising from inside. It was violent enough to make my whole body shake.

Every time I coughed, blood surged up my throat and splattered down to the floor.

Fuck.

Just as the coughing finally subsided, a stabbing pain spread through my ribs, like they’d been broken. Or maybe it was some organ inside. I reflexively wrapped my arms around my chest and quickly checked the state of my bones—thankfully, nothing was broken.

'They said I had internal injuries, but... no way.'

A throbbing ache radiated from my lungs, making it hard to breathe. The instant I leaned my head back, blood poured from my nose. I hurriedly bent forward again and pinched it shut.

'This is a whole circus of bullshit.'

The pain was so bad it was enough to twist my personality in real time.

“Jehyun.”

Im Haekyung grabbed me, lifting my head. Calm as ever, he pulled out a potion.

“Open your mouth.”

The moment I parted my lips, the potion slid straight down my throat. Im Haekyung held my jaw, controlling the timing so I swallowed naturally.

“Swallow.”

I obediently followed his words, gulping down the potion, only to open my mouth again as more was poured in. After repeating the process several times, the pain that felt like my body was being crushed finally eased.

Once the potion was drained, Im Haekyung tilted my head, turning it side to side as he examined my face. Since the pain hadn’t vanished, I couldn’t put up much resistance.

“The bleeding’s worse than I thought... You can hear me, right?”

Instead of answering, I nodded. Im Haekyung let go of my chin and pushed my shoulder back so I could lean against the sofa.

As I endured the penalty, fighting off dizziness, his voice reached me.

“Does it hurt badly?”

“Enough to... manage.”

My voice cracked and scraped as I spoke. Im Haekyung didn’t say anything else for a while after that. Which was a relief—time was exactly what I needed to just grit my teeth through the pain.

After some time, I regained myself enough to face him. That was when he finally asked about my condition.

“Feeling better now?”

“Yes.”

He stepped away briefly, returning with a towel that he handed to me.

“Wipe off the blood. Your face... and here, on your chin.”

I scrubbed my face without protest. Dark red smeared thickly across the bright towel.

'I must look like shit.'

And this bastard Im Haekyung... what was it he said again? That “a bit of pain helps”?

'This is what you call a bit?'

Of course, it wasn’t really his fault. I tossed the bloodied towel onto the coffee table.

“How long was I out?”

“About an hour.”

Only an hour? It had felt like at least three. My brow furrowed on reflex. Im Haekyung picked up on it immediately.

“Felt like you were unconscious longer?”

“...Yeah. I thought I’d been out for a few hours.”

“Mm...”

He trailed off vaguely and then smiled.

'He’s smiling?'

Smiling in front of a man covered in blood—what kind of psychopath shit was that? I was mentally chewing him out when he suddenly decided he’d waited long enough and cut straight to the point.

“I’ve figured out a few things.”

“...What?”

His words froze me in place. Figured something out? I’d been unconscious this whole time—what the hell could he have learned?

Reading my suspicion, he explained easily.

“I can use my skill on people even when they’re unconscious. You’ve seen it before.”

That brought back the memory of him controlling an unconscious person to make them use their skills inside a Gate. Which meant he had used Mental Domination on me while I was out.

'Is this fucker insane?'

When it was other people, I hadn’t thought much of it, but now that it was me? I couldn’t stop cursing. Haekyung didn’t care—he just kept smiling faintly, waiting for my response.

“...So, what did you find out?”

“First, there are signs that part of your memory has been deleted.”

“......”

“And there’s a restriction in place. When you try to bring up the deleted memory, it manifests as a physical reaction. Passing out, or the pain you just felt—it’s not just from your body being weak. Of course, I won’t deny that being low-rank contributes to it.”

It was an astonishingly precise deduction.

'Deleted memory? Could it be the deleted rounds?'

And from what he said, I also learned something new.

'When I try to bring up a deleted memory, my body reacts.'

A penalty, clear as day. Until now, I’d thought “disrupting plausibility” only meant talking about the “original story.” But maybe not.

'I don’t know the exact boundaries, but I’ve got at least a rough guideline now.'

If I tell someone else about deleted memories, a penalty strikes.

If I substitute “deleted memories” with “deleted rounds”... that means I’m being blocked from revealing the deleted rounds to anyone.

'Hmm...'

But what exactly is a deleted round? At first I thought it referred to rounds that had been erased from my memory. But too many things didn’t add up.

Even the phrase itself was weird. Why call it a “round”? The Status Window had always referred # Nоvеlight # to Kwon Taehan’s lives as 1st round, 2nd round, 3rd round, and so on. Why specifically use “deleted round”?

'So it wasn’t just memory that was erased?'

Just as my thoughts began to spiral, Haekyung cut through them with a question.

“Do you know what happened?”

“No.”

“I figured.”

He figured? I narrowed my eyes at him, but he just smiled brightly and spoke in a fresh, cheerful voice.

“Well then... since you cleared up my doubts, I should give something back, don’t you think?”

“...?”

Still smiling, he made a soft offer.

“I’ll remove the restriction on you.”

“...What?”

That suggestion was so outlandish it wiped away all the tangled thoughts in an instant.

“You can do that?”

“Of course. It’ll take some time, but it’s entirely possible. Though to be precise, it’s less ‘removing’ and more ‘restoring it to normal.’”

“......”

My penalty was a clear external imposition. A force strong enough to interact with the Status Window itself.

And he was saying he could erase that?

'Bullshit.'

Even for an S-rank mental-type, this was claiming power above the gods.

But Haekyung, still smiling like it was nothing, added,

“Ah, of course this is only if you want it.”

“......”

“So? Want me to remove it?”

'This bastard’s bluffing, isn’t he?'

Probably couldn’t actually do it—just saying he could. Entirely plausible.

Still... if by some chance he really could get rid of my penalty...

I thought seriously about it.

The penalty was an ever-present thorn in my side. But it also served as a guideline, giving me direction. If it disappeared, could I afford that?

The answer came quickly. I never planned to follow the original plot anyway. I was going to shatter it piece by piece until I met the gods themselves.

At first I’d considered keeping the penalty as a guideline, and as a shield against Haekyung’s Mental Domination. But things had changed.

Right now, the downsides outweighed the benefits.

My hesitation didn’t last.

“Yes. Remove it.”

He looked into my eyes for a long moment, then nodded, sighing theatrically.

“Ah.”

“...What?”

“Before that, aren’t you curious who placed such a restriction on you? You said you don’t remember.”

What fresh bullshit was this?

Haekyung erased his smile and sat on the coffee table across from me, locking eyes. His voice was serious this time.

“If we can identify who set the restriction while removing it, what about tracking them down? We need to know the cause.”

“Tracking?”

“Yes.”

In other words, he wanted to track down the one who made my penalty.

'As if that’s possible.'

If anything, that was veering into occult territory. Honestly, using a Ouija board would probably be more realistic than chasing them with psychic powers.

But there was no need to burst his bubble. So I just nodded.

“Yes.”

Never thought I’d end up negotiating with Im Haekyung over my own body. Well... more the mind than the body, but still.

***

After that, I spent a long while lying on the sofa, letting my condition stabilize.

An hour later, Haekyung handed me one of his shirts and told me to wash up.

In the bathroom mirror, my face was a sight. I figured I’d have blood around my nose or mouth, but it had streaked across my cheeks and clothes, too. At best, I looked like someone who’d just walked away from a paint job. Realistically? Like I’d just killed someone.

Some personal healer this was—what a mess. Then again, if I went home like this, my “personal healer” would probably scream if not kill me outright.

As I scrubbed the blood off, I thought for a moment.

'Why the hell did I tell Kwon Taehan about my family shit?'

It wasn’t like I had a reason for it.

But since I’d already blurted out that useless crap, the memory kept surfacing no matter how much I wanted to forget it.

By rights, the thing burned into me should’ve been my death.

Yet compared to that fucked-up family background, I almost looked like I’d grown up fine. Couldn’t help but admire myself. Proof that character really is innate.

I turned off the faucet, ending that train of thought. All the blood had been washed clean.