Chapter 203: Ch 203: Together
Home.
Destination.
The reason I’m striving for a Wish Ticket.
I had shortened my strong desire to escape from this world and return to my
original home into that single phrase.
’I want to go back home.’
...But only internally!
Yet now, this private matter that I never openly spoke about suddenly
emerged during interrogation.
’Where is my home?’
I deliberately forced my hands to relax so as not to grip the chair.
I mustn’t lie.
"Why are you suddenly asking about that?"
"...I was told you value your home greatly."
Who told him that? Wait...
...
I remembered.
Agent Choi must have told him.
I recalled that hellish night when we encountered Director Ho in the taxi.
And the conversation with Agent Choi that followed.
"..."
Home.
Had that been judged as unrelated to me being a spy and just personal talk?
’But even then, why even bother bringing that up in this place?’
Wasn’t it too dangerous?
And knowing this didn’t change anything for Agent Bronze.
I changed the subject.
"Should I just tell you where I commute from?"
"No. That’s not your home, is it?"
...!
Agent Bronze watched me silently.
"I know you’re living in a motel."
"..."
– So what’s the wish you’re trying to fulfill? – I just want to go home.
"I’ve also confirmed that your room has almost no personal belongings, let
alone furniture you could call your own. ...All you have is a few sets of
clothes."
It felt like the things I’d kept hidden deep inside myself were being
exposed.
"A place like that can’t possibly be called home. Or rather, you’ve
intentionally left it as such a place. You haven’t even applied for the bureau-
provided dormitory for agents either... Why is that?"
A question I couldn’t answer.
"Agent Grapes."
"..."
"You don’t need to answer what I’m about to ask you next. However, please
understand this."
Agent Bronze spoke without hesitation from beyond the glass wall.
"This conversation is just between you and me."
"..."
"It’s neither recorded nor documented. I’m the only one who will hear it."
I raised my head.
Our eyes met. Agent Bronze nodded slightly, lowered the documents he was
holding, and spoke.
"I’ve never had a home from the very beginning."
"...!"
"My parents divorced when I was young, and after my mother passed away,
I grew up in an orphanage."
Wait a second.
"Even though I ate and slept there, I never really thought of it as home.
Rather, whenever I thought of home, I recalled the apartment where I lived
with my mother. Even though it’s more a feeling than an actual memory."
Someone’s personal history poured into my ears. The past of a person not
recorded in the wiki.
No, rather...
’Agent Bronze.’
...the story of someone I knew.
"Then, while heading to school one day, I encountered a supernatural
disaster for the first time and learned about the Disaster Management
Bureau. When I asked how I could work there, they smiled."
After hearing his circumstances, the bureau introduced him to a safe,
student-appropriate job.
A strange bookstore affiliated with them.
"I worked there and attended night classes. Immediately after finishing
university, I took the exam... and passed."
Agent Bronze looked at me.
"And now, I’m here."
"..."
"Now, when I hear the word ’home’, I think of the waiting room of Black-
Tortoise Team 1. I think of my room in the bureau dormitory, and I see
people’s faces."
Ah.
"That’s why I want to ask you this."
Agent Bronze asked quietly.
"...Agent Grapes. Is your home... no longer in this world?"
"...!"
"Did you originally have one, but lost it?"
I could almost hear the unspoken words that followed.
’Like me.’
"..."
Unlike my previous interrogations, I wasn’t bound.
I could freely evade his question.
However...
"Yes."
"...!"
"It’s gone."
A spark lit in Agent Bronze’s eyes.
"Is the reason you worked at Daydream. Is it because you wanted to get that
home back?"
"It’s a bit different."
I slowly shaped my words.
"I want to return to my home."
"..."
Agent Bronze was silent, seemingly chewing over the meaning of what I
had said.
But soon.
"Agent Grapes."
A firm statement came back.
"You cannot return to a place that no longer exists."
"..."
"There will only be those who try to use you by deceiving you into
believing you can return. ...Don’t let yourself be used in that way. You are
stronger than that."
No.
I know that’s not true.
The Wish Ticket is real.
I understand what you’re trying to say, but that doesn’t apply to my
situation...
"You can create a new home, can’t you?"
"...!"
"Just as I did."
I looked at him with a stunned expression, as if I’d just been struck.
"If you go out from here, meet good people, find a place that feels right to
you... and create a place where you can rest comfortably and sleep with
peace of mind."
Agent Bronze declared,
"That will become your home."
Just as he thinks of the Disaster Management Bureau’s main building—its
cozy waiting room, like a clubroom—as his own home.
The advice from someone with experience came across refreshingly clear.
And so.
"I’m not saying you have to be completely convinced of this, Agent Grapes.
But... I do hope you’ll at least consider it."
"..."
"Can you do that?"
Very slowly, I nodded my head.
And the glass wall reflected nothing at all.
Truth.
A faint smile of relief spread over Agent Bronze’s face.
"Very good. That concludes today’s interrogation."
"..."
"I hope you’ll get some real rest tonight."
I can hardly believe myself.
What did I just say I’d consider?
But the atmosphere was surprisingly gentle, and my heart felt calmer than
expected.
As if I hadn’t made a bad choice.
And Agent Bronze didn’t press me for further details about my situation.
"And please make sure to eat and sleep well. For the next week, I’ll be
assigned as your interrogator, so there won’t be any harsh interrogations.
Please don’t worry and think of this as a time to rest."
He added that he could provide anything I needed, as long as it wasn’t a
prohibited or dangerous item.
There was no sign of falsehood in those words.
It didn’t look like I’d be thrown into the Labyrinth of Nightmares anytime
soon...
’...Huu.’
Up to now, I’d only eaten the safest foods and barely slept, keeping myself
in a state of desperate alertness to avoid falling into any traps during the
interrogations. But now, that tension almost melted away in an instant.
Just as a wave of fatigue threatened to overtake me—
"And, this is... a personal question."
A slightly hesitant voice.
"Do you, by any chance, resent Agent Choi?"
"...!!"
"I would understand if you did. As soon as your binding was lifted, you
were abruptly transferred to this prison. ...And with no discussion with
anyone, at that."
A trace of anger flickered in Agent Bronze’s voice, only to be firmly
suppressed.
’Sounds like there was a fight.’
But not wanting to show it, Agent Bronze changed the subject.
"Over the past week, it’s not that Agent Choi put you here and then
deliberately neglected you."
He went on to explain that Agent Choi had repeatedly applied to serve as
my interrogator in order to talk to me.
However...
"Since he was the one who had you transferred you here, and because he
didn’t meet the objectivity requirement when he first applied to be your
interrogator, he was blocked."
"...!"
"Fortunately, I passed, so today... I was thinking about what to say."
Agent Bronze bowed his head slightly.
"Thank you for giving me your answer. I feel somewhat relieved."
"..."
"I’ll see you tomorrow, then."
After reminding me again to take care of my health and get some rest,
Agent Bronze disappeared back into the mist beyond the glass wall.
I was once again left alone in the Glass Prison with only the dokkaebi
flame.
But instead of the alertness and tension I’d felt before, my mind was now
engulfed in a dazed blankness, as if I’d been struck.
And I turned the recent conversation over and over in my mind.
’Live here, in this world?’
Give up on going home...?
He was suggesting I make a new home and settle down here.
As an agent of the Disaster Management Bureau.
’...Is this just interrogation bait?’
But given Agent Bronze’s nature, it didn’t seem likely he would cooperate
with such a deceitful approach.
If so, then it must be genuine.
There’s a prerequisite there, of course.
The Disaster Management Bureau has not deemed me a malefactor.
And... It seemed like they want me to keep working for them.
"..."
My god.
’This... actually seems better than I expected.’
If Agent Bronze is the interrogator, maybe I could just confess to being a
spy at an appropriate point and bring things to a close. Maybe, I could walk
out of the Glass Prison with all my most difficult secrets still kept safe.
And, and...
Maybe I could just work here.
"..."
To keep living as an agent of the Disaster Management Bureau.
To keep working with Black-Tortoise Team 1 as I am now, spending time
with good people and doing good work.
And if things ever get too hard, maybe if I just admit I’m too much of a
coward, they’d even transfer me to a different team.
In that way, even in this world of ghost stories, I could build a relatively
safe and peaceful daily life with good people.
’There’s nothing bad about that... is there?’
No, it actually feels pretty decent.
Building a new home...
’No.’
I slapped my thigh hard enough to make a sound.
I can’t make a mistake and let my exhaustion, physical and mental, make
me judge things just for my own comfort.
’Agent Bronze only made that suggestion because he assumes I lost my
home in an accident or disaster.’
I can’t let myself be confused.
’My home is still there, perfectly fine.’
It’s just that the way back is difficult. It’s not like I’m denying reality or
obsessing over something impossible!
I can do this. I can do this...
...Besides,
The truth is, I know.
Truly deciding to live in this world is not
actually a wise choice.
...Remember? The whole name of that wiki.
That’s right.
’I can’t stay here long.’
Because this world, from the start...
– Oh dear.
A polite and cheerful male voice.
– You seem troubled, Friend.
"...!!"
I jerked upright.
’A hallucination?’
– Hallucination? Is there such a thing as a hallucination this vivid? Oh, of
course, I can certainly understand if you mistook it for one out of missing
this Braun so much. Oh, absolutely...
That smooth, flowing speech was far too clear to be just my imagination. I
hurriedly reached into my coat pocket and pulled it out.
A small rabbit plushie.
’...’
A cold chill crawled down my spine.
’How is it even talking?’
Inside this Glass Prison, all abnormal supernatural phenomena were
supposed to be blocked...
Ah.
’But supernatural entities... are still allowed to exist here.’
Just like the dokkaebi-flame clinging to the wall, trembling.
So... the ’Good Friend’, as a being present through this vessel, isn’t just a
talking plushie, but is recognized as a sentient being, as an existence here?
– That’s right. Haven’t we often chatted even in your everyday life? One
can’t just write off a close conversation between friends as mere trickery.
Oh, Mr. Roe Deer, how hurtful!
The host’s cheerful tone falters for a moment at the end.
As if realizing something.
– Yes... it is a little sad.
...
– Friend, it seems you’re not happy to see me. Even though it’s been a
week since we talked.
– I... thought you’d be as happy as a child, Friend, awaiting his favorite
show that only comes on once a week, finally able to watch it at last...
"..."
Then.
This plush doll must have chosen to remain silent for a whole week, as if by
some miracle...
– There you go again. Calling me a ’plush doll’.
A shiver ran down the back of my neck.
– Hmm. No matter. The host of a great talk show, a showman, must be
willing to accept any and all nicknames or insults. If that’s what the
audience chooses. And especially if it’s what my very dear friend chooses!
The host’s voice rings brightly inside the glass orb.
It even echoes, as if through a microphone...
– Very well. My friend, who’s had such a rough and exhausting week,
deserves a great show.
– Surprise! Look up, Friend!
I stiffly raised my head.
Right there, on the glass wall where Agent Bronze had been standing...
– Let me introduce it... ’How to Escape the Glass Prison’!
A video began to play.
As if on a screen.
"...!"
– Isn’t this much more admirable than the children’s cartoon we promised
to watch together? Haha, goodness! Friend, look at you, so flustered.
Everything’s fine. Oh? You say it’s supernatural? What’s so supernatural
about watching TV? It’s the most natural, everyday thing there is! Now
then...
– Let’s watch together.