Chapter 58: In the dark
The rest of the walk home felt unusually quiet.
Normally, after spending an entire day with Ryan and the others, their conversations would still linger in my head. Ryan’s ridiculous comments, Marcus’s dry responses, Daniel’s laughter—they usually followed me all the way back to my apartment.
Tonight, they were drowned out by six handwritten lines folded neatly inside my jacket pocket.
The letter wasn’t threatening.
It wasn’t demanding anything.
If anything, it was strangely polite.
That was exactly what made it unsettling.
People who wanted something usually asked for it.
Lucien hadn’t.
They had simply appeared, confirmed my existence, and disappeared again as though meeting me had completed some task.
I reached my apartment building just as the streetlights flickered on. The lobby was empty except for the elderly caretaker sitting behind the reception desk, reading a newspaper.
He looked up as I entered.
"Long day?"
I smiled politely.
"The academy exhibition."
"Ah."
He nodded knowingly.
"My granddaughter mentioned that."
"She said there were all kinds of interesting clubs."
"I hope yours was popular."
"It went better than we expected."
"That’s good."
He returned to his newspaper, and I headed upstairs.
The familiar click of my apartment door closing behind me brought an immediate sense of relief.
For the first time all day, I was completely alone.
I placed my backpack beside the sofa before taking the letter out again.
This time, instead of reading it immediately, I placed it flat on the coffee table.
"...System."
No response.
"I know you’re listening."
Several seconds passed before a blue window quietly appeared.
______
[Response]
Confirmed.
______
I sat down opposite the letter.
"Who is Lucien?"
The window remained still.
Then another line appeared.
______
[Response]
Insufficient authority.
______
"...You’re refusing to answer."
______
[Response]
Information unavailable.
______
I frowned.
There was a difference.
When the System wanted to avoid a question, it usually said I lacked permission or that revealing the information would interfere with the story.
This time...
It claimed not to know.
That was new.
"You don’t know?"
______
[Response]
Current data incomplete.
______
"...You’re serious."
No reply came.
I leaned back against the sofa.
That bothered me more than I wanted to admit.
The System had always felt... omnipresent. It knew things before they happened, tracked changes to the story, monitored my actions, and even evaluated my emotional state.
Yet Lucien had somehow appeared without it possessing complete information.
Either Lucien existed outside its expectations...
Or something had changed.
I unfolded the letter once more, this time examining every detail instead of just reading the words.
The paper was smooth.
High quality.
The handwriting never wavered.
Each line was evenly spaced.
There wasn’t a single correction or hesitation.
Whoever wrote it had done so with complete confidence.
My eyes stopped on the final sentence again.
Try not to die.
"...Why those words?"
I wasn’t expecting an answer.
To my surprise, the System responded.
______
[Response]
Unknown.
______
A knock echoed through the apartment.
Three sharp knocks.
I froze.
It was nearly eight in the evening.
Nobody visited me.
Another knock followed.
I slipped the letter back into its envelope before walking toward the door.
Looking through the peephole, I relaxed slightly.
Ryan.
Of course it was Ryan.
I opened the door.
He stood there holding two paper bags.
"I come bearing food."
I stared at him.
"...How did you find my apartment?"
"You wrote your address on the emergency contact form when we registered the club."
"...You memorized it?"
"You’d be surprised what I remember."
"I really would."
Ryan held up the bags.
"I figured you’d skip dinner after today."
"I wasn’t planning to."
"Great."
"Now you’ve got extra."
Without waiting for permission, he stepped inside.
He stopped after only a few steps.
"...Nice place."
"It’s small."
"It’s clean."
He looked around curiously before placing one of the bags on the table.
Only then did he notice the envelope.
His expression changed.
"...The letter?"
I nodded.
"I’ve been thinking about it."
Ryan pulled out a chair and sat down.
"So have I."
He rubbed the back of his neck.
"I know we all joked earlier..."
"But..."
He searched for the right words.
"...It bothered me."
I looked at him.
"In what way?"
"I can’t explain it."
He shrugged.
"When that person walked into the club..."
"I felt like everyone noticed them."
"They weren’t loud."
"They weren’t trying to stand out."
"But..."
"They stood out anyway."
I slowly nodded.
"I know what you mean."
Ryan looked relieved.
"So it wasn’t just me."
"No."
He glanced toward the envelope again.
"Do you think they’re dangerous?"
"I don’t know."
"...Would you tell us if you did?"
The question caught me off guard.
"What?"
Ryan laughed awkwardly.
"I know."
"I’m not exactly the serious guy in the group."
"But..."
He folded his arms on the table.
"We’re friends now."
"If something’s wrong..."
"You don’t have to handle it by yourself."
For a moment, I didn’t know what to say.
Ryan rarely spoke like this.
Most of the time, he hid behind jokes and exaggerated reactions.
Hearing him speak so plainly felt... strange.
"I’ll keep that in mind."
He studied my face for a second before smiling.
"Good."
Then, almost instantly, his usual expression returned.
"Now."
He opened the food bag.
"I bought enough fried chicken to destroy Marcus’s faith in healthy eating."
I laughed.
"You really never stop thinking about food."
"I contain multitudes."
We spent the next half hour eating dinner while talking about everything except the letter.
Ryan complained about his feet hurting after standing all day.
He insisted the cardboard victim deserved a proper funeral after the exhibition.
He predicted that the Culinary Club would run out of desserts before noon tomorrow.
By the time he finally stood to leave, the apartment felt noticeably less oppressive.
At the doorway, he suddenly turned around.
"Oh."
"I almost forgot."
"What?"
Ryan scratched his cheek.
"When I went to buy food..."
"I think I saw that Lucien person."
Every trace of amusement disappeared from my face.
"...Where?"
"Outside the academy."
"They were talking to an old man."
"I couldn’t hear anything."
"They left before I got close."
"What did the old man look like?"
Ryan frowned as he tried to remember.
"Grey hair."
"Walking stick."
"Maybe in his seventies."
"Wearing a dark coat."
"Didn’t look like a teacher."
"...Anything else?"
Ryan shook his head.
"Sorry."
"It was only for a few seconds."
"That’s fine."
He smiled again.
"See you tomorrow."
"Tomorrow."
After the door closed behind him, I remained standing in the hallway.
An old man.
Another person I didn’t know.
Another thread connecting to Lucien.
The apartment became silent once more.
Almost immediately, the blue notification returned.
______
[Side Objective Updated]
Continue normal daily activities.
Observe all unusual encounters.
Do not actively pursue Lucien.
Reward: Unknown.
Failure: Unknown.
______
I stared at the words for a long time.
"...Don’t pursue them?"
The System had never given me an instruction like that before.
Usually, it encouraged investigation.
Usually, it rewarded curiosity.
Now...
It was telling me to stay away.
Slowly, I looked toward the envelope resting on the coffee table.
Lucien had written almost the same thing.
Please do not concern yourself with finding me.
The System.
And Lucien.
Two completely different sources.
The exact same advice.
A chill ran down my spine.
For the first time since arriving in this world, I wasn’t sure which one worried me more.
Outside, the wind picked up, rattling the apartment windows.
Tomorrow, the exhibition would open for its second and final day.
Students would laugh.
Visitors would solve mysteries.
Ryan would probably eat far too much.
Everything would appear perfectly normal.
Yet beneath that ordinary routine, invisible pieces were already moving into place.
And somehow...
I had the growing feeling that the real mystery had never been inside our club room.
It had been waiting for me from the very beginning.