Bailonz Street 13
Chapter 97: Dead man walking (7)

The instant I saw that message, a shiver ran down my spine. Why would it start mimicking a game now, after making everything feel so real? And what did “Run” mean? Usually, it would tell me which button to press to run.

I heard the sound of bells. Not the Western kind, but the sort that shamans in my country might use. The sound was getting closer.

I started to run. I just ran, trying to ignore the creepy feeling closing in on me from behind! It felt like I absolutely shouldn’t look back. If I did, I would die. My instincts told me so.

＊ ＊ ＊

I arrived at what seemed like a naturally formed cave. In the center was a massive stone altar, supported by countless carvings. The surrounding floor was gouged, as if it had been violently slashed.

There was a door at the end of the room. Light was streaming in through a small gap above, indicating the exit was close. Even if it wasn’t the exit, I was definitely closer to the surface.

I was about to run towards the light.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

Until I heard that voice.

I knew who the voice belonged to. I had been deliberately ignoring it, convincing myself that they wouldn’t betray me, that they wouldn’t put me in this situation. I wanted to believe it was all a misunderstanding, that I was imagining things.

But…

“Why did you do it?”

I asked because I couldn’t fathom why they would give me that drug. We had parted with smiles, so how could they have done such a thing in the meantime?

“Clara, why did you give me opium tincture?”

“You noticed.”

“Of course. There aren’t many things that can knock out an adult like that.”

I turned to face her. Clara stood there, looking exactly as she did when we last parted, wearing a soft smile.

“My dear Jane, you’re becoming more like your detective.”

I didn’t understand why everyone around me kept saying that. I took two steps back, and Clara advanced as much, smiling dreamily.

“Was introducing me to your lover an excuse too?”

“Lover? Ah, that man. Yes, it was. I needed a surefire way to bring you out. Your detective protected you so fiercely that I had to meet you outside that house.”

“To bring me here?”

“I like how quick you catch on.”

I was truly caught.

No, but it didn’t make sense.

Clara squinted, seemingly bothered by the faint light filtering in. She raised one hand to shield her eyes and spread the other wide.

“This place was made for you, Jane Osmond.”

“For me? Since when?”

“You…”

No, Clara chuckled, cutting herself off.

“No need to tell you. You’ll replace out soon enough.”

Clara extended her hand. I stepped back, feeling the cold stone altar against my legs. Before I knew it, I was being pushed toward the center of the cave. Clara continued to smile with the face I knew so well.

“I need you, Jane.”

Her words were hard to accept. She continued.

“Your existence is essential. We never realized how well you blended in. No, it’s a pity we didn’t recognize it was you. Since when? Since birth?”

I didn’t fully grasp what Clara was saying, but one thing was clear. She was talking about the “game.” She and the entities she referred to as “we” had become aware of my existence.

“No need to waste time on futile experiments with useless expendables. You’re right here, perfectly made. They told me. They ordered me to use you. This place was arranged solely for you!”

“Do you follow some religion? A cult?”

Clara laughed heartily. Her body bent back in laughter, then snapped upright in a grotesque manner. She whispered to me.

“Don’t you hear the stars singing?”

“Stars…”

“They were there too, with your detective. Jane, we’ve met more often than you realize. You just never recognized me.”

It felt like I’d been hit over the head. I muttered in a daze.

“Old Paradise Gardens.”

“Exactly! The Brothers of Turc! Who do you think covered up that case?”

It was chilling. I had an inkling of what Clara meant by “experiment.”

The events I’d experienced since starting the game were all interconnected, serving a single purpose. Though I didn’t know their ultimate goal, it was clear it wasn’t anything good.

The foggy landscape of the first day. That strange London street was likely similar to the dimensional space on the train. The scenes I saw from the carriage were the same.

The Brothers of Turc.

Their objectives seemed similar to what’s happening now. Clara appeared to be deeply connected with them.

The realization that everything we’d been chasing was part of someone’s plan was profoundly unsettling.

“Be thankful, Jane. Thanks to your detective, you evaded our notice for a while. Deceiving Meridian was quite a challenge. You have no idea of your value.”

Me.

There are several words that represent “me.” For instance, the game’s player, an outsider who doesn’t belong here, or a stranger.

Hence, I was afraid.

They had identified me. The game’s NPCs.

The phrase “you don’t know your value” nagged at me. Why was I, the player, valuable to them?

What kind of plans did they have that required me? Why?

But even if I asked why, I wouldn’t get an answer. I knew that. This woman wouldn’t reveal anything to me. If she did, I wouldn’t know what I might have to give in return.

I remembered Plurititas’ words. He said there were creatures hiding under human skins. Clara Barnum was definitely a “hunter.” And I was the prey, caught in her hands, waiting to be dissected.

‘I have to escape.’

Clara still looked at me with that amused expression. Her finger pressed down on my chest, her nail pricking my skin.

“They’ve hidden you from everything in this world. They created many secrets. Be thankful, Jane. The more you uncover, the more noticeable you’ll become.”

“Noticeable?”

“To us. To the hungry ones. Oh dear, now that you’ve been discovered, you can’t hide. You won’t be able to escape in any way. Your eyes will be bloodshot, and you’ll become uncontrollable.”

My hands were grabbed. There was no escape. All I could do was struggle, trying to free my wrists.

Right now, I had no warning ring, no protective necklace. Even the gun from my thigh was gone. They must have thoroughly searched me. If I had those, I could have defended myself.

My futile resistance weakened. I knew it. In my pajamas, with nothing but my bare hands, I could do nothing.

As my strength faded, heavy chains wrapped around my wrists. Thick shackles, attached to a chain embedded in the altar, like those used for prisoners. My hands were bound. I realized it too late.

Clara’s hand pressed me against the altar. Before I could clear my confusion, I felt the cold stone against my cheek. I tried to break free from Clara, but her strength was inhuman.

“Let go, Clara. Whatever’s going on, I can’t help you.”

I panted, feeling suffocated. The stone felt deathly cold through my thin pajamas. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was in the grip of death.

When I finally caught my breath, I saw Clara’s expression. She muttered as if she were looking at a test subject, as if seeing a talking animal.

“You really speak like ‘Jane.'”

“I am… Jane.”

“No, you’re the hope we’ve been searching for.”

Excuse me, but does your religion treat hope like this? I swallowed the rebellion rising in my throat.

I felt Clara’s hands rummaging through my clothes. She seemed certain I had something. I could guess her objective.

‘But that makes no sense.’

Clara pulled my notebook from my pocket, smiling that kind and gentle smile I knew. But her eyes were devoid of warmth.

Clara asked, but it felt more like she was confirming something she already knew.

“The last page, right?”