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Chapter 395

### Chapter 395 – A Midsummer Night’s Dream (11)

– 7 Days Ago, Kim Sanghyun

“Let’s see… is this the place Kain mentioned?”

At the bottom of the elevator control panel, there was a red button.

“It’s so obvious, it’s hard to be suspicious, right?”

Upon pressing the button, a part of the elevator wall flipped, revealing a keypad.

Next to it, small text read:

< Escape Route 1, Do Not Inform Others >

“Is this something the hotel wrote for internal use?”

If so, then this really shows thorough interior design in a bad way.

I entered the password 87439124.

— Whee! Whee!

「Emergency Escape Activated! Emergency Escape Activated!」

Suddenly, the inside of the elevator darkened, and a loud noise filled the space before it started spinning wildly!

“Ahhhh! What is this, a spaceship?!”

I couldn’t gather my wits.

It felt like I was a small creature trapped inside a washing machine on spin cycle.

The elevator door clanked and then flung open.

Outside, the only fitting word was hell.

The world was filled with lava and flames, and countless voices echoed with endless screams.

At least one thing was clear: I understood why a protective suit was necessary for escaping via the elevator.

Lava and flames were bursting through the inside of the elevator like crazy.

A flimsy fire-retardant suit wouldn’t just fail to help; at this point, I’d be dead already.

The elevator flew endlessly through the blazing inferno.

*

“Hey, are you okay?”

“…”

“How about going to the hospital?”

“… Ah.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m fine. I was just deep in thought; you really don’t need to worry.”

I found myself standing dazed in the warm sunlight.

A passing student asked if I was alright, which made me realize I had been standing still for quite a while.

As I looked around, I made two realizations.

First, I had woken up in the outskirts of Austin, Texas, one of the busiest areas in America.

Having graduated high school in Austin, I was actually quite familiar with it.

Second, this world didn’t seem like my hometown.

— Thud!

“Hey! Can’t you see? Why are you just standing there?!”

“… Sorry.”

The deer that had been staring at me suddenly turned red.

A police officer patrolling the area nonchalantly fired his shotgun, turning the deer into a heap of meat.

This is the kind of world we’re in.

*

Based on my experience, some Koreans have strange biases about public safety in the U.S.

The belief that shootings happen frequently among criminals and police is pretty common.

But let me tell you, that’s more of an issue in some slum areas with very low living standards.

In a state like Texas, which is a key part of the economic development in the South, that’s not the case.

At least, that’s how America used to be for me.

But this place? It seemed different.

As I walked a little further, I saw soldiers equipped with fully armored bulletproof vests.

They were openly carrying shotguns and assault rifles, while around them, the citizens accepted it as normal.

It wouldn’t be surprising to see a deer trying to hypnotize me or “predator-type” pigeons flying about in a world like this.

“… Definitely not my hometown.”

I wasn’t surprised; there were countless possibilities for this to happen.

Haven’t I felt that during conversations with my comrades repeatedly?

The reality we remember is very different.

Kain thought of the Administration Bureau as some secret organization that rarely shows itself, and monsters were something he occasionally saw on global news.

On the other hand, Songyi assumed that every house was equipped with laser turrets and tactical drones.

I guess I’m somewhere in between.

I didn’t mind seeing monster-related news often, but it wasn’t as scary as it is now, where you don’t even want to turn your head.

That’s when I realized I was holding a stiff piece of paper in my hand.

“An entry ticket.”

As is customary with the hotel’s stuff, I automatically understood its identity and usage.

The entry ticket had been created from the protective suit, and if I tore it, I could return to the hotel.

But one worry nagged at me.

Could it be that I’d lose my protective suit for good?

If that’s the case, I’d really mess things up….

Since I’d acted in a stupor, my comrades wouldn’t blame me for this issue.

But regardless of whose fault it was, losing the protective suit would sting quite a bit.

“Johnny! Did you seriously just embarrass James by staring blankly on the street?!”

“…”

“Why are you just standing here? If you’re back in Austin, you should’ve contacted me first!”

“… Mama.”

*

“Didn’t you say you got into med school ages ago in New York?”

“…”

“But why— no, wait.”

“…”

“Life has its ups and downs. Have you eaten?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Good to hear. Just relax on the couch.”

Mama Sherry.

She’s an African American woman who lost her husband and child years ago in an accident and has a fair amount of wealth.

To overcome the grief of losing her family, she has been involved in charity work for a long time.

In the process, she has taken in many impoverished children in the neighborhood, providing them with food and schooling, which has earned her respect as a godmother figure in the area.

As a side note, I’m one of the people she helped.

So far, so good.

It’s nice to meet someone who helped me as a child and to feel grateful.

But what’s really going on here?

I can’t be the dim-witted type.

This place isn’t the world I’ve lived in.

It’s strange to see someone I know, and even weirder that she recognized me.

Could it be that this is a kind of parallel world and Mama Sherry recognizes a ‘parallel version of me’?

“Seeing you on the couch reminds me of the past! When you were a sophomore at Westwood High—”

“Is Westwood High here?”

“Huh? Of course, it’s in Austin, Anderson Mill—”

At that moment, Mama’s brow furrowed for a brief second.

“… The school on Anderson Mill is Aster Lake, right?”

“That’s right. I saw it earlier.”

“Uh… um?”

“Mama, I graduated from Aster Lake.”

“Really? I must have mixed it up. You need to understand; when you get older, you tend to forget things a bit. My memory sometimes goes haywire.”

“That could be true.”

No, it can’t be.

Mama Sherry’s memory is spot on, and I graduated from Westwood High.

And there’s no such school in this world.

The place where my alma mater used to be now has a school called Aster Lake that I’ve never heard of.

Just a moment ago, Mama Sherry accurately recalled a high school that doesn’t even exist in this world, and she directly remembered “me.”

The situation became harder to grasp.

There was another bizarre detail about the age difference between Mama and me.

When I was in my mid-teens, Mama was already in her late 40s.

Now, even excluding the time I spent in the hotel, I’m over 40.

If that’s the case, then Mama should be over 70, close to 80, but she looks to be in her 60s at most.

With all this confusing information, I strangely felt a sense of calm.

The experiences I gathered from the hotel told me what to do.

If you can’t understand something, just accept it and stop thinking further.

*

Fortunately, Mama didn’t seem to realize the inconsistencies in her memories.

For example, she chalked up the non-existent school to simple confusion.

She took the age issue lightly as well.

“Johnny, what a hard time you must have had in New York?”

“Yeah, right.”

It seemed she thought I had aged since I looked like I had suffered greatly.

“What could have happened to a smart kid like you?”

“Yeah, who knows?”

I had no clue what had happened to me either.

“Just stay here for a few days; it’s a big house for just me anyway.”

*

Late at night.

— Creeeak!

I jumped awake from the sound coming from the window.

Outside in the dark, I could faintly see a mysterious glowing presence.

Not wanting to be caught off guard, I got up and grabbed a golf club that was lying next to the bed.

At that moment, a hushed voice came through.

“Johnny, Johnny!”

“… Mama?”

“Just stay put. If you remain still, it will pass soon.”

This could be a scene out of a horror movie, but the calm demeanor of the old lady suggested a lot.

It meant she was used to this kind of thing.

“What is that?”

“I don’t know either.”

“Have you reported it to the Administration Bureau?”

“I did, but, you know? They tend to be busy!”

“…”

— Creeeak!

A chilling sound echoed again.

“Do you have a gun?”

“Johnny, just wait—”

“Sorry, but I know more about these issues than you do.”

“…”

She wasn’t suggesting we wait due to her knowledge of the creature.

She was quaking in fear because they felt powerless, knowing the Administration Bureau wouldn’t respond to their call.

This kind of helplessness is something the ‘protected’ would feel, not the ‘protectors.’

“Do you have a gun?”

“… I have one shotgun, double-barreled.”

“May I have it?”

“I-I don’t manage it well—”

“That’s fine.”

Seems like it’s going to be a mighty long night.

Strangely, I didn’t feel bad about it.


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