Rise of the OtherGod Apostle: Not a Cult Leader, but a Serf?!

#109Reader Mode

#109

I double-checked my status window, just to be sure, and there it was—a brand new trait. One I’d definitely never seen before.

Unique Traits: [Miracle of the Silver Tongue], [The Whole World Is Beneath One’s Self], [???], [System User], [I Record, Therefore I Exist.]

“…Since when did that get there?” I mumbled, my eyes drawn to the word ‘record’. It had to be linked to the God of Records somehow. Curiosity got the best of me, so I pulled up the trait’s description.

「 : I am not an error.

I am not an error.

I am not an err…. 」

What the…?

Was the system lagging or something?

I tried closing and reopening the window, hoping that would fix the issue.

「: A record of non-existence, written by the non-existent.

* You can create and read records in the ‘Notebook.’

* Tap on the ink to view the list of entries.

*This record is entirely fictional. Please don’t mistake it for reality.」

…Alright, seriously, what’s going on here?

The sudden change in the trait’s description left me feeling uneasy.

Had someone hacked the system?

[What did you just do to me? There’s something on the back of my hand now!]

[…My blessing? When did you receive that?]

How am I supposed to know if you don’t?

[I don’t want it. Take it back.]

[Hm… Really?]

What’s that supposed to mean? Why are you hesitating?

[I said take it back. Now.]

[Sorry. That’s not possible.]

……? What do you mean “not possible”?

[You just said this was your blessing.]

[Yes. It most certainly is my blessing. However, the power emanating from it suggests it was bestowed by another version of myself, one on a lower level. I don’t have the authority to remove it.]

I could feel my eyebrows knitting together in frustration.

[But how? I’ve never even met another ‘you’ from the lower levels!]

[I’m not sure either. It’s a mystery.]

[So what am I supposed to do now? Go further down to get rid of this thing?]

[I wish I could help more, but all I can say is that I don’t have the authority to remove it. I’m sorry.]

Well, this bastard is absolutely f*cking useless.

He tells me not to go deeper, then admits he can’t help me get rid of it while I’m up here.

Isn’t that basically forcing me to go down anyway?

I glared at the mark on the back of my hand, a surge of annoyance and helplessness rising up inside me.

I was going to keep going down…

…But then I thought better of it.

What if the “Records” down there can interfere with the system? It would be insane to walk right into that, especially if it’s not friendly. What if it’s some asshole trying to use my weaknesses against me?

I’d rather find Casimir and bawl my eyes out, begging her to understand that I never wanted a ‘blessing’ like this.

…So, what now?

After a minute of mulling it over, I decided to check out the “Notebook” first.

If there’s anything in there that can mess with my head, my trait should be able to block it.

I tapped the inkblot symbol, and the black ink spread across the back of my hand, shifting and changing until it formed a single line of text.

[0. I’m f*cked.]

…What?

I blinked, incredulous. Seriously? That’s the heading of this record?

Another tap, and the inky words rearranged themselves into a new message, somehow even more unsettling than the last:

[I’m thoroughly f*cked. And guess what? So are you.]

This wasn’t the kind of language I’d expect from the God of Records. It was too casual, too… human.

…Could this be a record left by another player?

[First, a warning.

All names, individuals, and events portrayed in this book are fictional. Any resemblance to actual persons, places, buildings, or commodities is purely coincidental.

In other words, I made all this up.]

A disclaimer? Seriously?

Why would anyone put that in a book?

This had to be from another player. There was simply no other logical explanation.

The text on my hand shifted again, like someone was flipping a page in an invisible book.

[1. You are currently on basement level 18, looking into a book.]

…Huh?

Basement level 18.

That’s exactly where I was.

Is this thing updating in real-time?

A cold dread snaked up my spine. Just to be safe, I went up one floor before tapping the heading again.

[1. You are currently on basement level 18, looking into a book.]

It didn’t change to level 17…

Despite this, unease prickled my skin. I tapped the symbol again.

The next sentence appeared almost immediately.

[…Just to be safe, you went up one floor before continuing.]

Holy shit!

What the hell is happening?

Seriously, what is going on?

Is someone watching me?

[You’re thinking: ‘Is this thing writing itself as I go? It feels like it’s predicting my every move…’ But that’s impossible. This book is already complete. It can’t change.]

Really?

[It’s just that the author knows you very well. And why wouldn’t he?]

[2. The person who wrote this book is none other than….]

My heart hammered in my chest. I tapped the symbol to see what came next.

[…You. To be precise, it’s you from basement level 24, writing this for the you who’ll find yourself on level 18, or rather, now on level 17.]

…Myself from level 24?

I scoffed. What kind of nonsense is this?

The idea of existing on multiple floors at the same time was just ridiculous. I wasn’t like Records. And more importantly, I had zero memory of writing any of this.

Oblivion wasn’t something that affected me, so it wasn’t like I’d simply forgotten. Unless…

Unless this book somehow transcended time.

But that was impossible, right? Records couldn’t time travel. If they could send messages to the past, why would they be stuck in this fractured, useless state?

I took a deep breath and forced myself to reread the earlier entries.

…Okay, maybe it wasn’t completely impossible.

What if there was some device on basement level 18 that ‘blessed’ you the second you stepped there? Like a messed-up welcome mat. Wouldn’t that essentially make you the “you” of that specific level?

And wouldn’t it make sense for someone cautious to check the floor above before reading a strange Notebook? The time it took to go back up would be a dead giveaway if they were naturally cautious or more impulsive.

Someone could easily set a trap using that knowledge.

But the big question still remained… why?

What was this unknown player hoping to accomplish?

Were they just some bored creep who got off on freaking people out?

The thought of some bastard getting their kicks this way makes my blood boil. I hate people like that…

[3. You have a question: ‘Why would I send something like this to myself in the first place?’]

Yeah. My thoughts exactly.

Burdening myself with Records’ blessing? No way. And if I had something important to say, I would have just said it! Not buried it in this cryptic, time-wasting message.

[The you on level 24 knows that suddenly receiving this “book” would be a giant headache and very confusing for you.

But there was something that absolutely had to be said.

No matter what it took to get the message through…]

Alright, fine. But how exactly did you manage to send this back in time?

This was the make-or-break question. Without a solid explanation, this whole thing would just crumble into a steaming mess of nonsense. Honestly, it wouldn’t even be worth the time to finish reading.

Just as that thought crossed my mind, a new heading appeared on my hand:

[4. ‘But how exactly did you manage to send this back in time’]

“……”

Word for word, it matched my exact thought. I couldn’t help feeling a little resentful.

It was like I was a rat in a maze, being led by the nose through some pre-planned route by the bastard who wrote this. Manipulated into doing exactly what they wanted.

…the chooser of paths can never outwit the creator of them.

Still, I couldn’t stop myself from tapping the heading. I had to know the truth behind this time-travel nonsense.

[How did this book make its way from the 24th floor to the 18th floor? Here’s the explanation. First, write the book…

And then…]

And then what?

[5. Further details of the explanation have been omitted.]

“……”

Are you f*cking kidding me? Is this some kind of sick joke?

[You know what? On second thought, the details don’t matter. Why burden your mind with unnecessary information? Ignorance is bliss, really.]

My fists clenched tight, itching to throttle the bastard behind this.

Wow, he’s got a real talent for pissing people off, doesn’t he?

[The important thing is that someone is on their way to find you.

You absolutely must finish reading this and then destroy the book before you run into anyone else.]

…Someone’s looking for me?

Athanas’ face immediately popped into my head.

No, no, it’s gotta be a coincidence. I sucked in a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves.

It’s only natural to be on edge when you’re about to meet with a traitor. Being told someone’s looking for you in that situation is bound to make you paranoid.

It sounded like a manipulative tactic to me… like they were trying to get me to make a mistake.

Well, I’m not falling for it.

Actually, this sentence pretty much proves future me didn’t write this book.

Think about it – if Athanas truly was looking for me, and I’d taken the traitor’s so-called “blessing”, none of this adds up. Would Athanas seriously just twiddle his thumbs while I sat there writing this whole rambling message? Not a chance.

Besides, it’s way too vague.

Nothing about this feels like me. Feels like it could be for anyone. If this was really just for me, I would’ve left clues only I could figure out. You know, like, “Hey, that guy who sleeps all the time is looking for you,” or even mentioned those prehistoric animals I use for passwords…

[6. You’re skeptical: ‘Nothing about this feels like me. I would’ve left clues only I could figure out.’]

Come on, there has to be a better explanation than this…

[There’s a reasonable explanation for this.

Prophecies are always a bit vague. The more specific they get, the pricier they become. It’s like the divine version of tax evasion.

By the way, since this is all made up, you don’t have to worry about paying anything. However, I can’t use real names because of copyright issues. If I did, it would be immediately edited by a sharp-eyed observer.]

That sounds like bullshit.

Isn’t that just a convenient excuse?

Where’s the evidence?

[8. You just thought: ‘That sounds like bullshit. Where’s the evidence?.’]

[ If you thought that, go back to the beginning.

This is a work of fiction.

Remember that warning? Read it again.

I made this all up. There’s no evidence because it’s not real.]

Wait a minute… where’s heading number 7? Did they purposely edit it out?

This entire thing reads like a bad Neapolitan ghost story. The author clearly has a thing for them, but their execution falls flat. It’s not scary, funny, or even remotely touching. I even gave it a second read, just in case there was some hidden message I missed, but nothing.

…This is the kind of person who’d give their address in code when calling 911 during a heart attack.

It’s the sort of thing that might mildly entertain you when you’re absolutely bored out of your mind, but not much more than that. Neapolitan ghost stories are supposed to be fun because they keep you guessing, but when it comes to something crucial, it’s just plain irritating. You find yourself wanting to scream, “Just get to the damn point already!”

[9. You feel annoyed: ‘What the hell is the point of this book?’]

[I wrote this for a simple reason.

Even if it’s all made up, you can still learn something from it. Fictional stories can teach valuable lessons that you can apply to your own life.

That’s all I want–for you to take something away from this story, even if it’s not real.]

Alright, so what’s the lesson here? What’s the actual point?

I absentmindedly tapped the back of my hand when the next heading caught my eye.

[10. ???]

…Question marks?

My status window displays a trait Mother God gave me(or so I assume) as [???]. Even when I pull up the trait’s description, it just says ‘Effect unknown.’

And now, of all things, three question marks…

It’s just a coincidence, right? It has to be.

[…When I reached basement level 24, I heard a very important story.

How could I have missed this?

It’s unbelievable.

I have to tell myself this story, no matter what it takes. That’s why I’m writing this.

What I realized is….]

Is? Is what?

[11. Motherly love is great.]

…Motherly love?

Those words sent a shiver straight down my spine.

I’ve got a really bad feeling about this.

My heart had barely settled before it took off beating wildly again.

No, no, it could still be a coincidence…

But before my rational side could make sense of it, anxiety hijacked my mind. I tapped the heading, my hand enveloped in a dense shadow of foreboding text.

[…That Mother loves me!

Isn’t it said that the greatest love in the world is maternal love?

Mother will never give up on me.

She’s desperately searching for me, her lost child.

She’s listening for my voice.

Wherever I am, if I call out, she’ll find me instantly.

Not even death can sever the bond between a mother and her child.

Even if I die, Mother will surely give birth to me again.

Oh, if only I could end it all now, I’d be back in Mother’s embrace!

Just the thought of death makes me dizzy with anticipation.

Nothing can stop us from being reunited….]

“……”

This…

…This must be the description of my hidden Trait, isn’t it?