Don't Feed the Professor! - Chapter 32

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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[Footnote 78: All doors in the Fortress do not possess the structure of ordinary architectural elements, but rather exist as a type of activation device.
The two points connected by a door are not actually adjacent in physical space; they are forcibly linked when the user activates the door.
To prevent the coordinates input into a door from becoming distorted and causing unintended displacement to an unexpected location, you must always operate the door in a single, continuous motion.
In particular, if the user’s height is 160 centimeters or less; if the user’s body contains corrective devices, artificial prosthetics, or other human implants; if the user is between sixteen and thirty-two years of age; if portions of the user’s memory have been altered due to head trauma, drugs, or other unknown factors; or if the user has any history of being subjected to human sacrifice, the probability of the input coordinates malfunctioning and becoming misaligned increases by a factor of 1.5 or greater.
Exercise particular caution, as accident risk surges dramatically when the body and mind are in a deteriorated state, or during nighttime hours according to Fortress time.]
* * *
I turned slowly to survey my surroundings.
Sleep had fled long ago. My fists were clammy with sweat.
Only then did I realize what I had done.
In my drowsy confusion, I’d mistaken myself for still being in my studio apartment. In the middle of the night, in nothing but pajamas, I’d opened a door leading to the dormitory corridor.
And furthermore…
I swallowed hard and looked around. No matter how I examined it, this was not the dormitory corridor.
A warehouse—or should I say a freezer? Judging by the massive work tables and the hooks hanging from the ceiling, it appeared to be a place where large livestock were disassembled, hung, and stored.
The only saving grace was that the refrigeration unit was shut off. Had it been running, I would never have survived in such thin clothing.
I moved forward, relying on a pale blue light seeping in from somewhere, but no door to the outside was visible anywhere.
Creak. I lowered my gaze. On the metal-plated floor, rust or blood—some reddish residue—had left its mark.
‘…Stay calm.’
What was fortunate was that I retained a vague recollection of guidelines for precisely this sort of situation.
If I could find a thread to pull and reach my long-term memories, I would certainly be able to recall a way to respond.
I took a short, deep breath and closed my eyes. I imagined that there existed an index organizing my memories like a filing system in my mind.
The primary category was the Fortress, and within that, the Manual. Soon, an image of the book I had seen in a loan shark’s warehouse materialized before my eyes as if it were video footage.
‘Hm…’
I stood bewildered for a moment at the vividness with which I could almost touch it, then quickly gathered my wits and flipped through the pages in my mind.
Rustle, rustle.
…Found it.
In the final pages of my memory, in a corner at the bottom—Footnote 78.
Though written in unnecessarily complicated language, I grasped the gist of it.
The fact that doors exist as activation devices essentially means that my room and the dormitory corridor are not actually connected.
Like stepping on a portal in a game where the screen goes black for a moment before advancing to the next stage—two locations that appear adjacent are in reality physically separated.
‘Nothing has changed. If I could enter through it, I can leave through it too.’
In other words, the door I had passed through—a kind of ‘portal’—must exist somewhere in this place, invisible though it may be. If I could only make contact with it somehow…
—Creak.
I turned my head at the sudden sound.
“…?”
In the dim light, something was standing there. Between the swaying hooks, something was.
‘A shadow…?’
The shadow I had seen in the second-floor corridor.
—Creak.
I lowered my gaze.
It was not a shadow. A shadow does not wear boots of that shape.
—Creak.
A shadow does not move like that. It does not walk on two legs toward me.
—Creak.
It was too tall to be a person.
I was barely managing to shift my trembling legs backward when—
—Creak-eek.
It knelt down. Its wet garments folded. It lowered two long, dark arms to the floor.
Slowly, carefully.
As if saying it meant no harm.
“Who… who are you?”
It raised its head and looked at me. Gradually, I could make out its form.
It wore a grimy knit cap, long hair hanging down across its face. A wet black raincoat clung to its entire body, glistening.
Slowly, as if it were a caterpillar, it pointed at itself with long, spindly fingers. Specifically at its abdomen.
The fingers creaked as they opened and closed, and I soon understood.
“You’re… hungry?”
It gave a small nod.
“Um…”
I found myself searching my pockets.
“I’m sorry, I don’t have anything on me right now…”
It showed me its palm. As if to say it was all right. It slowly raised its torso again and, like a gentle beast, gave a careful nod of its head.
I turned my gaze in the direction it was looking.
The faint outline of a door came into view.
‘Did it help me?’
I hesitated for a moment, then reached out my arm. I felt an invisible doorknob touch my hand.
“Well…”
When I turned back, it was watching me too. It raised an arm, this time bringing it to its mouth.
I heard a faint, soft shushing sound.
“You want me to keep it secret…?”
Nod, nod.
“…”
I turned the doorknob.
And click—I was standing in a dark corridor.
“Ha… what on earth…”
“Amelie?”
At the sudden sound, I looked up. Momo stood there holding a large Boston bag, her expression as startled as mine.
“What are you doing here? Do you have sleepwalking or something?”
I looked down at myself. Standing barefoot in the corridor in thin pajamas was certainly enough to invite such a misunderstanding.
“Oh, no, just… but what are you doing here?”
Momo silently pointed to the door behind me. My next-door neighbor’s room.
“This is your room? But there was never any sign of anyone…”
“It’s been break time. I was working in the city.”
“Ah.”
True enough. I had only arrived here a week ago, but for the students who live here, it has been a continuous break all this time.
Momo yawned, looking tired.
“Could we finish our conversation tomorrow? Lights out is coming up soon anyway, and I’m exhausted.”
It was already that late. I stepped aside to let Momo enter her room.
“Actually, Momo, could I ask you one thing?”
“Yeah?”
“That shadow in the second-floor corridor. The really tall one…”
“Oh, the Scarecrow?”
“The Scarecrow?”
Momo answered in a matter-of-fact tone.
“That’s what we call it. It’s always standing like that, you know. My hometown has a similar urban legend…”
“An urban legend?”
“Well… but do we really have to talk about urban legends standing in a dark corridor like this?”
That was… true.
“Sorry for holding you up. You must be tired. Go get some rest.”
“Anyway, don’t worry about it too much. It’s creepy, sure, but there’s no one yet who’s had anything bad happen to them because of it.”
“Yeah, thanks.”
“Don’t mention it. Well then, sleep well, Amelie.”
Momo yawned again and returned to her room. I said good night back, though whether I could fall asleep again remained a question.
“…”
I stared quietly at my door’s knob. Was what lay behind this door really my room—Amelie’s room?
But I couldn’t keep standing in this corridor forever either.
I took a deep breath and opened the door. Click—thankfully, a room that looked as it always did was waiting for me.
Sigh. Relief and exhaustion drained all the strength from my body. It had been far too long a day. How many times had I come close to death today? How many more times would I have to in the days ahead?
“Ugh…”
I quickly lifted my head and took a deep breath. I had almost let tears spill out.
Once I started crying, there would be no end to it, and I needed sleep for tomorrow.
I finally calmed my mind, returned to bed, and pulled the blanket over myself. My nose still felt tender, but it would be fine soon.
I was alone, but I was strong.
I always had been.
Always.
Ding.
“…?”
I poked my head out from under the blanket.
The phone on my nightstand was glowing. A text message.
[Hungry?]
Ding.
[Watch your step.]
“Maro…?”
I furrowed my brow and lifted my head. Pale yellow light was seeping in faintly through the window.
I carefully drew back the curtains and opened the frosted window.
There were stairs.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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