Chapter 27

Hels kept his promise and made an exception for him. When the staff explained it to Horne, their gaze was extremely odd, but their tone was much more polite. They said Horne had triggered a game easter egg and could obtain an extra wish opportunity.

“You’re sure it’s two?” Horne didn’t fully understand the staff’s explanation after hearing it. He didn’t know which easter egg he had triggered, but when he saw the staff earnestly asking about his wish, he hesitated for a long time before saying, “I want a psychologist and a neurosurgeon.”

He wanted to try restoring his memories through physical means.

Horne sat in the waiting area and contacted Ains, originally planning to tell her about transferring the wish, but Ains’s terminal showed no response.

It was eight o’clock. Was she resting so early?

In the end, Horne only left a message on her terminal. After sending it, he suddenly remembered something and turned back into the game hall once more.

Entry was normally prohibited outside the unified game opening hours.

“Hey…” The staff had just opened their mouth when they swallowed the words again.

Horne made his way familiarly to the game pod where he had parted from Hels earlier. No one was there anymore.

He looked around and checked each game pod one by one, confirming Hels wasn’t there. Then he turned and asked the staff, “Excuse me, where is the other exit from the game room?”

The staff gave him a strange look and formally said, “Sir, the game room has no other exit. This is the only one.”

Horne felt he hadn’t expressed himself clearly and repeated, “I mean, other passages or internal channels—any other way to leave.”

The staff found it even stranger. “Sir, I said, this is the only entrance and exit. There are no other passages. The game room is soundproofed and sealed.”

Horne opened his mouth, but it took him a long time to ask, “What about Hels?”

“Mr. Hels can only enter and exit from here too.”

Horne went back in and checked once more, this time inspecting each one: empty game pods, or those still in use with people lying inside.

After he had come out earlier, he had never stepped out of the waiting area even once. Even while contacting Ains, his attention had stayed on the present.

He confirmed Hels hadn’t come out.

But Hels had disappeared.

He had vanished completely from this sealed game hall.

Horne had wanted to at least say thanks to him, but now, he could only face the pitch-black, oppressive game hall in silence.

Fourteen hours.

Horne returned to his room, ordered food from the Red Light District, and scheduled a few hours of rest for himself.

He stood by the window, gazing into the distance at the Tower District. Recon drones frequently flew past everyone below, people brushing past each other without a word.

He drew the curtains, and the woody scent spread in the darkness.

At the same time, in another dimly lit room, cyan light shone on green walls. The room wasn’t large, with two chairs in the middle. One had a person hogtied to it, while the other had someone with only their wrists simply bound—and even those ropes were loosely tied. If she wanted, Wen Yu could easily break free, but she chose to remain still.

Han Ya tried cutting the ropes again and failed. Gritting his teeth in frustration, he said wolfishly, “I’m done with this! Is he just bored? Checking the entire game where Horne was on purpose?”

Wen Yu sighed, somewhat helpless. “I told you there were risks. I said to use an alias, but you didn’t, and changing the trigger point to the city gate was risky to begin with.”

The holographic game’s original code hadn’t been like that; it only became the Loch City gate after data modification.

Han Ya struggled hard, but the bindings didn’t budge. Enraged, he cursed loudly.

The noise gave her a headache, so Wen Yu frowned and said, “Stop yelling. It won’t help.”

Han Ya took deep breaths to calm himself. “I really want to rush out and fight him.”

Wen Yu: “Don’t be too impulsive. Watch and wait.”

As they spoke, the room door opened, and a figure walked in. He went straight to the chair opposite them and sat down.

A hint of playfulness was on his face as he silently watched the two bound people.

“Hels, I’m gonna… Ah!” Han Ya had just started cursing when the chair electrocuted him, making him yell in pain.

“Tsk,” Hels chuckled lightly, swinging his leg casually. He seemed in a good mood as he looked at Han Ya’s pained expression and said offhandedly, “She’s always been smarter than you.”

His gaze shifted to Wen Yu’s face. She was much calmer, meeting Hels’s stare steadily.

“It was you who added the new game concept, right?” Hels said with a smile. He tilted his head slightly, propping his chin with his hand, his words laced with amusement. “Passing through the city gate, seeking memories—a nice hint.”

Wen Yu looked at him calmly without speaking.

Hels continued on his own. “I figured as much. After all, Han Ya doesn’t have the brains for it.”

“Who’re you calling brainless?” Han Ya’s nostrils flared in extreme displeasure, his bound legs stomping up and down.

Hels wasn’t annoyed. He just crossed his legs the other way, finding a more comfortable position, his expression still smiling. Under the cyan light, it looked somewhat eerie.

“From what I know, neither of you could pull off that level of hacking. Let me guess—who’s your third accomplice?” Hels’s voice was light and teasing, growing a bit annoyed as he went on. “It’s not that guy who was yelling about winning first, right? Gao Qie?”

Hels observed their expressions. Han Ya’s face was full of hatred and anger, while Wen Yu showed nothing.

“Oh, wrong guess,” Hels said, as if talking to himself. “Or maybe that woman who didn’t finish the game?”

Their expressions stayed the same.

“Oh dear, wrong again. Who is it, then? Did he even join the game?” Hels spoke very slowly, frowning in feigned distress, deliberately stringing them along. “Who is it? Can you tell me? If not, I’ll have to invite everyone from that game back… Though the guy who drew the Limb Cutter probably can’t be invited.”

Han Ya couldn’t take it anymore. “Your game’s full of bugs, and you blame others?”

Hels suddenly stood up. He walked slowly to Han Ya’s side and leaned down slightly without speaking.

Gazed down at from above, Han Ya felt a chill in his heart. He found this Hels creepy right now and didn’t like it.

Tick.

Tick.

It advanced another step.

After the long silence came Hels’s helpless light laugh. He slouched lazily, half-bent at the waist, a mix of annoyance and amusement. “I never knew before, but you hate me that much. What can I do? The one he holds to sleep is me. The one who hears his lullabies is me. And the one who’ll accompany him to death is me.” By the end, his smile vanished, replaced by hatred, his tone turning venomous.

“And you, Han Ya, Wen Yu—you military people—where were you back then? He sent so many distress signals—where were you?!” By the end, it was almost a guttural roar.

The room fell into dead silence, echoes lingering.

That was their most painful memory from the past—raw and bleeding at the mere mention.

Han Ya’s face paled, and he suddenly fell quiet. Wen Yu tilted her head up, eyes slightly red. She hesitated before saying, “The situation back then…”

She stopped midway and closed her mouth.

“Never mind,” Hels said. “Let’s say that when I was busy, you were there to keep him company in games.”

Han Ya scoffed, deliberately provoking. “Like watching replays? The person you like so much was all tangled up with a dead kid in the game. Want to check that out?”

Hels shrugged. “As long as Horne doesn’t mind, I don’t care.”

Han Ya was stunned for a moment, then feigned shock. “Hahaha, no way, Hels. You’re pathetic—stooping that low? Horne doesn’t like groveling, lowly types. He’ll never like you. Once he remembers, even less so. You can’t imprison him forever or build him an Eden. But I have ways to make him remember. Let me tell you something else.”

Tick.

Tick-tock.

Eight hours.