The Imperial Hunter

Chapter 3: Triangle Flight (3)

Chapter 3: Triangle Flight (3)

Dreams of revisiting the past were always the same nightmares.

“Come out!”

The roaring of my master was not in the form of a human.

“Where are you hiding?”

The pitch-black tentacles snaked through the narrow alley, filling it tightly. As I ran frantically, my eyes were filled with panic, and my master’s outstretched hand looked like a rushing torrent of black tar. Concrete bricks with cement-coated walls collapsed on both sides, and fragments of slate roofs soared from the ruined buildings.

The small house where my childhood memories were embedded was destroyed like that.

“Come… out…!”

The thunderous anger of my master echoed. Although I knew it was a dream, I couldn’t stop running. In this dream, my consciousness was trapped inside my past self. Inside my skull, the sound of a heartbeat filled the space. Even as I ran desperately, I couldn’t feel the wind. The heavy air clung like damp mucous membranes. It felt like wandering through the belly of a monster.

The maze-like landscape, where similar intersections repeated, suddenly skipped several seasons. This place was my past mental world. It was an abstract space where various memories I had at that time were connected infinitely, randomly, and like patchwork.

The boundaries between different memories looked like curtains made of shattered mirror fragments that reflected different times. I could vaguely see beyond it, but my master, who wasn’t the owner of the memory, seemed unable to. That difference was the power that made this close escape possible.

Rumble—

When I turned around, my childhood home which I had barely escaped from was collapsing like an earthquake. It was crumbling behind the billowing dust clouds. The form of the furious Master was towering over it. It was a shadow much larger than reality. However, this place was originally an area where the distinction between substance and shadow was unclear.

I stumbled and screamed as I crossed the boundaries of new memories.

“There you are.”

My master spread darkness and turned it into wings. With several thunderous flaps, he crossed the clouds and descended like a predator overstepping boundaries. His lightning-fast claws tore through the entire surrounding landscape. Unconscious chaos seethed between the cracked rifts.

I fell into the sewers under the crumbling road. Gasping for breath, I swallowed sewage several times, got up on all fours, coughed, and started running again.

Haa, haa, haa.

As I tumbled into the hole, the liquefied Master flowed in after me. He expanded and contracted until he took on the shape of a snake covered in black scales. Two yellow eyes rose like suns penetrating the pumpkin-like darkness. The snake became a horizontal waterfall and smashed through the iron bars, colliding with the wall. Gold appeared on the ceiling, and concrete dust rained down.

At that time, I was just an ignorant child, but I instinctively realized that getting caught would be the end.

That was a snake that devoured souls.

Fortunately, in my state of misery, I didn’t know that the randomness of the maze created in the mental world was actually influenced by my desperate mind.

There was only one thing in my mind. Survive, escaping from my master.

The sewage drain led to a side passage, which served as a drainage tunnel to remove rainwater. It was even more twisted and winding than reality, but somehow it didn’t feel unfamiliar to me. At the end of the tunnel, once again, the boundary’s shimmering curtain was in place. The shadow of the black snake flickered under the pale streetlight, and a gust of wind-like breath shook my hair. At the moment when the pursuer’s speed offset the complexity of the maze, I escaped the tunnel with a single fleeting step.

As soon as I crossed the boundary of memory, gravity reversed.

Aaargh!

Once again, an uncontrollable scream from my present self. I fell from the sky above my feet to the sky overhead. Following me, the snake that had crossed the boundary turned its body in mid-air. Right after I saw that, rushing water struck my entire body. Abnormally strong currents swept me downstream. The open jaws of the snake head came through the surface with a roar, tearing into the space where I was.

In a futile protest, Master, infuriated, tried to transform himself to adapt to the new environment. He had no choice. In this world, most of the spells that affected physical reality didn’t work.

I swam frantically to the shore just before my master could complete his transformation. Then what I saw was the view of the orphanage compound where I had been picked up. At this time, surreal rain poured sporadically from the crimson-stained sky. My master was caught in the swollen current and descended towards an unfamiliar boundary. The curtain of shattered mirror pieces swallowed the rushing stream. The distorted snake shape faded into the distant memories.

The 14 buildings of the orphanage were arranged according to a certain pattern. Connecting the buildings created a heptagonal shape with seven lines. At the intersections and corners where the lines crossed, the accommodations were located. Compared to the number of buildings, the site was relatively small.

In the first building, there was one dead child.

In the second building, there were eight dead children.

In the third building, there were twelve dead children.

In the fourth building, there were nine dead children.

Thus, in the four small dormitories forming a heptagon, the total number of dead boys and girls was 30.

Furthermore, from the fourth building to the seventh building, along the way, the total number of corpses found was 30. From the seventh building, turning towards the tenth building, the total number of dead children was again 30. After that, the number of corpses found along a single line was always the same, 30.

This was, in essence, a magic square where the sum of each side was 30.

Unlike me back then, who was ignorant, I now understand the meaning of these numbers.

A heptagon with all sides totaling 30 was completed when a ritualist drew seven lines to add up to 31 at the center of a star. In numerology, 31 symbolizes the name of God, “El,” and also means navigation. In other words, it became a journey toward the divine. (+)^[1]TLN: First, numerology is a belief system that assigns symbolic meanings to numbers. It’s often associated with spiritual or mystical interpretations of numbers, where each number is thought to have its own unique significance. In numerology, each letter of the alphabet is assigned a numerical value. In certain interpretations, the number 31 can be seen as representing “El” because the numerical values of the letters ‘E’ and ‘L’ in some systems add up to 31.

On the other hand, the 7 of the heptagon represented eternity and life, and the magic square represented inner balance and closed integrity.

Therefore, the horrifying ritual that sacrificed 105 boys and girls had the purpose of a seeker of eternal life reaching out to the divine through a navigation ritual.

So, what were the consequences?

Christianity’s concept of sanctity includes resurrection. It involved consuming the soul with the soul and seizing the flesh to enjoy new youth. The ritualist repeated this ritual every time life was nearing its end, with the hope of reaching eternity. This was the first practical application of the aged imperialist, a design that took a long time to plan.

Upon reaching the center of the heptagon, I discovered the apparition of myself, bound, and my master who stood before me. It was the situation right before the nightmare began.

Rumble—

The ground shook. Master’s spiritual form had returned from beyond the boundary of memory. The rough tremors indirectly conveyed an even greater rage.

The me from the past wiped away tears with dirty hands. The place where a wall with fresh plaster should have been was undulating with the new boundary of memory. It was time to resume the escape with no guarantee of success. As I threw myself at the boundary, my vision was engulfed in darkness.

…

…

Zzing. Zzing.

“…Damn it.”

What woke me from the nightmare was the vibrating alarm of a smartphone placed by my head. Due to the high probability of dreaming whenever I slept, I developed a habit of setting alarms at every hour, and this time, it paid off.

This was already the third nightmare tonight. I rubbed my forehead with one hand and let out a long sigh. I couldn’t even remember what it felt like to get deep sleep anymore. The inside of my eyelids felt hot.

As I closed my eyes for a moment, the alarm, which had become silent after I cried alone, started ringing again. The smartphone screen, lit up by the incoming light, showed the time as 4:05 AM. I pushed the button to silence the alarm and, while trying to deactivate the other alarms, I noticed that a text message had arrived.

“[Singapore Airlines] We regret to inform you that the scheduled departure time of your flight (SQ602) has been changed from 12/23 14:30 (SGT) to 12/23 15:23 (SGT) due to airline circumstances. We apologize for any inconvenience caused. If you have any inquiries, please contact the following number. (+65) 0800-124-8888. Available call hours…”

Sometimes, it happened. I wished I had woken up when the text arrived.

Though the inside of my eyelids was hot, I felt even more tired today. I might be able to get a couple of hours of sleep on the plane. After finishing a shower with cold water, I ordered a cafe latte through room service. Even if it wasn’t on the room service menu, they would somehow accommodate orders from the deluxe rooms.

The coffee arrived in just 15 minutes. I handed the staff a $100 tip.

I stirred the coffee with a cinnamon stick and took a sip while waiting for the aroma. I took out my tablet from my bag. I was planning to read a book until it got brighter outside.

The book I pulled up at random was a general education book on modern world history. I turned the pages as slow as a tortoise. My mind was somewhat distracted by the lingering effects of the nightmare, and the shallow depth and lack of insight in the Western-centric historical view made it seem pitiful.

After wasting over an hour, I finally closed the book and considered reading an academic journal. But just then, my phone vibrated, signaling a new message on my messenger app.

[Have you woken up?]

A message from Suyeon. The time on the phone read 6:01 AM.

[Is something wrong?]

[I thought you wouldn’t sleep for long. If it’s okay with you, I’ll come over.]

I had no idea what her business was at this early hour, but I also had something to say to someone in an empty place. Perhaps Suyeon was also anticipating that and making a preemptive move. I replied:

[Take your time.]

About ten minutes later, I heard a knocking sound on the door. Knock, knock, knock. I had locked the chain but unlocked it to see Suyeon already dressed in a suit. I stepped aside to let her in. She entered the room, glanced at the coffee cup on the floor, and expressed mild regret.

“You must be tired.”

“I just woke up a bit earlier than usual. Have a seat.”

I waited for her to take a seat before asking my question.

“What’s going on?”

Suyeon, who had been gathering her thoughts and hesitating, asked a direct question.

“Hyungnim, will I still be of use to you in the future?”

“In the future?”

“If, eventually, we have to fight against that ‘London.'”

“….”

I tilted my chin slightly and replied.

“You’ll be useful. The opportunity for awakening is open to you, and if need be, I can personally open or calibrate your circuits.”

“Really?”

“You won’t become as sophisticated as me. But in terms of a primitive magic user, you’ll become exceptional. That should be enough. Even a mage can die if they take a bullet to the head. You might need more firepower, though.”

Primitive magic had a high likelihood of starting with aspects related to basic bodily functions. In other words, the direction could be diverse, but typically, strengthening physical abilities was what was expected. This eventually led to an increase in portable firepower. In a thoroughly prepared fight, even a true mage could be a threat.

However…

“The issue isn’t about whether you’re useful or not.”

“….”

“Suyeon, you don’t owe me anything.”

The moment I said this, Suyeon’s expression showed a mix of hurt, anxiety, and loss, swirling in an emotion.

• 1. TLN: First, numerology is a belief system that assigns symbolic meanings to numbers. It’s often associated with spiritual or mystical interpretations of numbers, where each number is thought to have its own unique significance. In numerology, each letter of the alphabet is assigned a numerical value. In certain interpretations, the number 31 can be seen as representing “El” because the numerical values of the letters ‘E’ and ‘L’ in some systems add up to 31.

Disclaimer:

This novel is a work of fiction! While it may incorporate elements inspired by our "real" historical world, including historical events, settings, and cultures, it is important to note that the story and characters are entirely products of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to real persons, living or deceased, or actual events is purely coincidental. This work should be enjoyed and interpreted as a work of fiction and not as a representation of historical facts or reality.

Also, if you find some error in translation please do let me know by tagging me (@_dawn24) in our Discord server. Since this series is kinda hard to translate. But I'll try my best to make it at least readable :)

Enjoy reading~!