TMBIPYMEN Chapter 3

Despite Layla's questions pouring down like a rainstorm, the man showed his open palms with a leisurely attitude. It meant to take it one at a time.

When he smiled with a grin, Layla felt one corner of her chest begin to pound eerily for no reason whatsoever.

"One at a time, I suppose. First, my name is Yustar. As for where I came from... well. I wandered here and there looking for you before arriving, so it's a bit difficult to say exactly where I came from."

"I've never seen you before. You haven't either."

Layla countered in a voice full of wariness. The man—Yustar—nodded slowly and propped his chin, as if it were obvious.

"Of course this is our first meeting. But to be precise, I've been watching over you for a long time."

Suddenly she felt goosebumps. Watching?

"What does that mean?"

"Exactly what I said. Ah, when I say watching, I don't mean I was watching your every move, so don't worry. Just your... yes, let's call it life force. Your life force as a witch, and your power. That's what I was watching."

He seemed to be trying quite earnestly to explain, but Layla's mind only grew more complicated.

So what did he watch, and how did he watch it? Not a single question had been resolved. However, Yustar seemed rather puzzled that Layla still wore a bewildered expression.

"Don't you understand?"

"Do you think I would?"

Yustar's eyes blinked a couple of times. In his clear light green eyes reminiscent of a young barley field, Layla's image was reflected strangely vividly.

Ominous and eerie black hair, red eyes like dripped blood drops. Layla subtly turned her gaze away from these things that fully proved she wasn't of human blood.

"It's a magical artifact. You know what magical artifacts are, right?"

"I know that. But the only magical artifact I know is one that tells you tomorrow's weather at best."

"That's quite..."

Yustar trailed off and laughed shortly.

"You're different from the witch I imagined. Then what was that about drying out my tongue earlier?"

"That's something I can do with a tincture, not a magical artifact. I'd just need to put exactly one drop in the tea I serve you."

"More terrifying than a magical artifact."

Though Yustar spoke as if joking, Layla ignored it.

"Anyway, I don't know what kind of witch you imagined, but at least my mother didn't leave me any magical artifacts. In the first place, aren't magical artifacts things that mages use, not something witches like us would have?"

"That depends on how you think about it. Anyway, I was able to find you thanks to this."

After saying that, Yustar took something round from his bag.

It was a red orb about the size of two grapes put together. With fine white lines like cracks or stains branching out here and there like blood vessels...

The moment Layla reached toward it, the orb resting on Yustar's palm spun. At the same time, the surface split open like grape skin peeling, and from inside, an eye with a black iris was revealed, staring directly at Layla.

"This...!"

Unable to properly scream, Layla jumped up and kicked her chair backward as she stumbled away. Seeing Layla's face turn pale, Yustar casually squeezed the orb and put it back in his bag.

Layla, whose bloodless lips were trembling, said.

"Just now... what was that? Is that a magical artifact?"

"That's right. Mages call it 'Lanninglore,' but we just call it 'eyeball.'"

"We?"

Yustar shrugged and casually changed the subject.

"That chain you saw earlier is also a type of magical artifact. But it's a bit different from what mages use. It's consecrated... used to exorcise souls or demons, things like that."

"You're a demon hunter?"

"No, I'm not. I don't just catch demons."

Yustar trailed off with a thoughtful expression and tapped on the table. Tap, tap. He seemed to be pondering something, or perhaps looking for an excuse after making a mistake.

"Layla, you know what a 'Sink' is, right?"

Layla answered.

"You mean the black holes?"

"Is that what they call them here?"

"Mostly. Anyway, are you talking about that? The ones ghosts pour out from?"

Yustar tilted his head slightly and grinned. The weak sunlight streaming through the window scattered over his bright, long hair and flowed down like sparkling sand. Layla stared at him like someone entranced for a moment, then shook her head.

"I don't believe in such things."

"You don't believe in ghosts with eyes like those? That's interesting."

"That's not what I mean. I don't believe in the black holes themselves. You're saying the ground suddenly caves in, and ghosts burst out from inside? No, that's not how it is. Since you keep mentioning my eyes, let me tell you—ghosts aren't things that crawl out from underground. They... they..."

Layla's shoulders trembled. Yustar knew she was truly afraid.

"...They just exist. In the place they should be, or the place they're obsessed with. They don't dig through the ground like moles to appear. They don't sprout like mushrooms. They just... just turn your head and they're there. When you wake up in the middle of the night, there's a woman with her neck bent sideways standing at my bedside looking down at me. My mother said it was one of my ancestors. Someone who died hanged because she was a witch."

Between Layla's increasingly agitated words, Yustar gently interjected.

"You're right. Ordinary ghosts exist that way. It's just that people who can see them are extremely, extremely rare. But 'Sinks'—Sinks aren't like that. Layla, you seem to think that Sinks... that they're like cracks in the ground during an earthquake, but sinks aren't made that way. They're not that form either."

Layla realized she needed to ask an important question here.

"Even if everything you say is true, why should I know about it? Why did you use that... eyeball or whatever to watch me?"

A smile rose on Yustar's lips. The eye contours and lips that curved softly following his smile, the light green eyes looking straight at Layla were terribly captivating. Enough to mistake him for something other than human for a moment.

'What's been going on since earlier? I feel strange...'

Layla pressed her forehead and sat back down in the chair. The old rocking chair creaked as if even her weight, light as a bare tree, was painful.

Then Yustar said.

"It seems it would be better to show you directly rather than explain in words."

"...Show me, what?"

"Everything. What's happening in this village isn't an epidemic. There's no such thing as a disease that makes only the eyes melt away cleanly. You were thinking that too, weren't you?"

Layla's lips pressed firmly together. Yustar smiled leisurely once more and added.

"Sorry, but would it be all right if I stayed here until tonight? It's much easier to find at night."

Layla clenched her fists while leaning against the worn backrest. At some point she had begun rocking back and forth, and the creak continued in rhythm with it. Mother... just like when her mother had been alive.

Looking intently at Yustar, she said.

"If we wait until night, you can cure this strange disease?"

"It's not a disease to begin with, so 'cure' isn't the right expression, but yes. You could say that. Because I'm going to eliminate the root of the problem."

The root of the problem.

The villagers believed that the children's eyes melting away like soft mud was Layla's fault. When the first two children died, their parents had nearly broken down Layla's front gate.

And that wasn't all. After that, whenever a child died one by one, the villagers bared their teeth like wild beasts and tried to invade Layla's house with sickles and pitchforks.

After more than ten children died, they seemed to have lost even the presence of mind to come blame her...

Layla took a rough breath like someone who had just finished running.

"Fine."

Layla's hand, which had been grinding her lips, gripped tightly the round ornament on the old armrest.

"Fine, I was curious about what that cause is anyway."

Somewhere, music seemed to be playing. Like an old music box turning, rusty metal sounds burst between the melody.

What song was this? Layla thought. She'd definitely heard it somewhere but couldn't remember where.

Her mother had never sung her a lullaby. She was someone who sobbed more often than she sang.

—His face was...and, he...

Someone was singing along to the tune. The old music box sound grew louder, and just as Layla's body seemed to float up—

"Wake up, Layla!"

Pop! There was a sound. Layla's eyes snapped open at the shock, as if a balloon had burst inside her head.

She gasped and looked around. It was pitch dark. Not a single candle was lit. She must have fallen asleep while watching Yustar sitting strangely leisurely, like a breathing statue.

"...Is it night? How long did I sleep?"

"Quite a while. Let's get up. It'll be troublesome if we're any later."

Yustar's tone sounded closer to commanding than what she'd heard during the day. It wasn't a change she particularly liked, but Layla rose calmly.

Just before going outside, Yustar glanced back at Layla's chair and said.

"You'd best refrain from falling asleep in that chair from now on."

Layla's eyebrows furrowed.

"Why?"

But Yustar only grinned and didn't give an answer.

The two who went outside walked along the dark mountain path to somewhere. Layla, who had been walking without much thought, grabbed Yustar's shoulder as if something was strange.

"Wait, this is the path down to the village."