MBOMEN 44

Chapter 44. Secret Game (13)
—Wake up.

No. Layla thought. I’m too tired, my legs hurt. And my head too.

—Wake up, if you stay here, you’ll die.

I’m as good as dead anyway.

—Wake up!

At the piercing shout, Layla jolted awake.

“Where…?”

She could feel her voice bouncing off something very close. She quickly raised her hand and felt rough, damp wood scrape against the back of it.

“Hey!”

Clenching her fists, Layla banged on the walls around her. The space was so tight she couldn’t even swing her arms freely… Then it hit her—she was trapped inside a wardrobe.

“Open this right now! You said you’d follow the rules! You said it yourself!”

She screamed, but there was no response from outside.

The darkness! The suffocating darkness made it hard for Layla to breathe. She felt a chill wind brushing against her legs, and as she cautiously moved her feet, she sensed the brittle crunch of dry dirt breaking apart.

“I can’t get out alone.”

The voice came right in front of her, and Layla’s head jerked back.

Her skull slammed against the wardrobe wall with a thud!

It felt like her eyes were about to pop out, her mind spinning from the pain—but that wasn’t the real problem. Staring at the child’s face before her, Layla let out a strangled gasp, as if someone was choking her.

“You…”

The child shrugged her small shoulders. In this pitch-black space where even her own hands weren’t visible, the child’s figure stood out strangely clear.

Layla realized the child was entirely translucent—but even without that, it was obvious this wasn’t a human.

Besides, if the child had a physical body, they couldn’t possibly be standing face to face in this cramped wardrobe. There wasn’t even enough room for Layla to move her arms properly.

“You’re the one from the picture frame.”

Layla said, clutching her now-cold hands tightly.

“I can tell by your hair. The one who appeared before me earlier… That one called Smulkin—she’s not you, right?”

“My name is Lillin,” the child replied. Then, with an unreadable expression—somewhere between a smile and a glare—she added, “And that thing isn’t a child. It’s not human either. I told you before. You just didn’t listen.”

Layla almost snapped back—It’s not that I didn’t listen, it’s that you didn’t explain it properly—but instead, she sighed. Ghost or not, she had no desire to argue on the level of a child who barely looked ten.

“Your name is Lillin?”

When Layla repeated the name, the translucent face shimmered strangely, like rippling water. Layla was curious about the cause of that reaction. She had seen many ghosts before, but never one that responded like this.

Then again, she hadn’t been talking to ghosts for very long. Layla thought and gave a faint chuckle. Laughing at a time like this—was she going mad?

Suddenly, she thought of Yustar. Where was he? Was he safe? Or had he been dragged off to some unknown place too…?

“He’s fine. He’s outside.”

Layla’s lips parted in surprise. Lillin was twirling a lock of her long hair around her finger as she glanced at Layla and continued.

“Anyway, yes, my name is Lillin.”

“It’s a pretty name.”

“Don’t you think it sounds like yours?”

Maybe. Layla thought. She could have answered aloud, but for some reason, the words wouldn’t come. Perhaps it was because the very idea of peacefully chatting with something that wasn’t human defied her understanding.

“I have a favor to ask you.”

Lillin said, her voice solemn—far too serious for a child.

“You’re a medium, aren’t you?”

Layla stared at the small, translucent face and replied, “Yes.” Then she looked around and added, “I must be, if I’m having a conversation with you here, Lillin.”

Lillin’s lips curled into a soundless laugh. It didn’t feel malicious, but it was an eerie sound Layla never wanted to hear again. Like a wildcat biting into a fat rat’s neck.

“Then I have a request. If you do me this favor, Layla, I’ll grant one for you in return.”

Layla replied, showing with every part of her body how little she believed it.

“Once fooled is enough. First, I believed your whole ‘follow the rules’ nonsense and searched through a hundred pointless rooms. Then, just when I thought I found something, I got trapped in here. And now I’ll die standing, won’t I?”

“That’s why I told you. That thing’s not human.”

“Maybe you could’ve told me sooner?”

Layla sneered, her eyebrows pulling together. Lillin’s face had gone blank.

She didn’t seem angry. It would’ve been better if the wardrobe had shaken and the wood splintered in fury.

But this strange little girl—whose two pigtails were uneven, who would never grow another inch of hair—just looked… hurt. Regretful.

Regretful about what, Layla couldn’t say.

“I wanted to tell you,” Lillin said. “I mean it. I didn’t want you to come in here. It did.”

Layla let out a short, defiant breath.

“This ‘it’ you keep talking about—what is it? You mean that pigtailed girl? She said her name was Smulkin. Did you know that?”

Lillin looked at her with pity and finally answered.

“Of course I knew. No one knows better than me what that is. It’s not a human, or a ghost, or even a monster. It’s a demon. I summoned it, and Sink raised it. Smulkin came because of me. And she forced me into this ‘hide-and-seek’—even after I died.”

Meanwhile…

After the squad tossed the monster’s heart into the Sink, Yustar quickly ordered the defense line to be set up.

“Remember. We must not let whatever comes out of the Sink escape into the village.”

“Yes, Sir Yustar!”

The team, including Robsker, responded in unison.

Then one of the soldiers asked nervously, “Um… but the Sink… doesn’t it have no bottom?”

Yustar nodded, eyes still fixed on the Sink.

“That’s right, Henry.”

“Then where does the heart we threw in even go?”

The end of the soldier’s question quivered slightly. His voice held the unease just before overwhelming terror—the kind felt in the face of the unknown.

“No one knows where it goes.”

Yustar gave a short reply, then added:

“But one thing is certain. The Sink will definitely devour it.”

“Devour…?”

Before the words were even finished, Yustar felt a thin flash pass right in front of his nose.

He didn’t even have time to think—his body reacted first. He jumped back and shouted a moment later:

“Fall back!”

At the same time, psshk!—a sound rang out. Some soldiers reacted instantly, perhaps even before hearing him. The rest froze in shock.

“Sir Yustar—!”

“Henry!”

Yustar reached out to grab the soldier next to him, but couldn’t reach in time. The man’s shoulder collapsed, and he slumped.

Yustar saw veins bulge in the man’s neck—pulsing, throbbing like they’d burst at any second. He could almost hear the heartbeat: thump, thump, thump…

Then, pop! Blood gushed—scarlet and bright—erupting from multiple places like fountains.

“Sir Yustar! We can’t hold the line!”

Robsker. Yustar felt a flash of relief—at least she was alive. He didn’t know how many others had died. Three? Four? Maybe only Robsker and himself remained. Whatever emerged from the Sink… it wasn’t a monster.

—How dare you humans walk on two feet and try to offer me something. You should’ve brought something fresher.

Every remaining sentinel, including Yustar, instinctively looked upward.

The voice echoed ominously from above—dark, ringing like funeral bells, shaking their very souls.

“Sir Yustar! What… what is that?!”

Robsker cried. She was horrified. A little girl—no older than seven—was floating in midair.

It wasn’t a ghost. It certainly wasn’t a monster, and it wasn’t human either. Even Robsker, a non-medium, could feel it. That girl—with pigtails—radiated pure, wicked malice.

The girl looked down and giggled at the decapitated heads rolling on the ground.

—Ah, I see! You must be the prince of Searow! You’re famous! That curse placed on you is so well-known!

Yustar clenched his sword and glared.

“Robsker.”

“Yes, Sir Yustar?”

“Pull the team back. If you have any weapons or magical tools blessed by Marnak, bring them all.”

“But, sir—”

“Just do it, Robsker! Or we’ll be annihilated. That’s not a ghost from the Sink. It’s not a monster either! That’s…”

Yustar looked up again, breathing heavily.

“That’s a demon. The Sink wasn’t controlling it—it was being controlled by it. The Sink’s power source was actually being manipulated by that thing.”

Robsker didn’t fully understand, but she stopped asking. She ordered the remaining soldiers to fall back and formed a new line around Yustar.

She had faced countless monsters and escaped death many times, but nothing had ever terrified her like this.

Even fighting a massive dragon that could dry out dozens of trees with every breath hadn’t been this hopeless.

That thing is a demon.

Yustar’s words echoed in Robsker’s mind, drowning out all else.

The pigtail girl—the one Yustar called a demon—was cackling wildly as she spun in the air. Her neck, shoulders, and waist twisted unnaturally, her legs flopping around.

She spun once, twice, three times—until her body curled like a snake eating its own tail. Any human would’ve died long ago.

But the girl just screamed and laughed louder.

—You threw in Echenais’ heart to find that witch girl? Blood-stained child of Searow, your kind has always been so stupid—generation after generation!