Don't Feed the Professor! - Chapter 82

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

Mallo corrected my posture from behind, bending at the waist to straighten my stance.
When his large, cool hand gripped my arm lightly, the thick knit texture brushed softly against the bare skin exposed beneath my short sleeves.
I caught a glimpse of his profile and our eyes met. Mallo spoke silently, shaping the words with his lips.
‘Straighten your back.’
I obeyed, straightening my spine. I tried to relax my shoulders, which kept tensing of their own accord.
With the ambient noise cut off by the ear protection, I felt oddly more on edge.
‘He said knowing how to use something and actually firing it are different things.’
Still, learning wouldn’t hurt. At least I had a weapon now.
Despite his peculiarities, Mallo was a good teacher.
When he first crammed the Memory Technique into my head, I was startled, but he’d never rushed or forced me since.
So this time should be fine too.
But Mallo quietly stepped back. I turned around, bewildered.
Instead of directly injecting knowledge into my mind, he simply watched me with a faint smile.
‘Really? Just like this?’
I turned toward the target. The wind whispered, and the forest beyond the range shimmered.
I carefully positioned my finger on the trigger. I’d started out boldly enough, but standing here at the Shooting Range, I hesitated.
‘Even if I’d caught up to Kang Woo-jin back then, what could I have actually done?’
I steeled myself. I might have to shoot someone someday. I didn’t want to falter before a mere target.
Bang—the recoil was heavier than expected, and a shell casing flew free.
‘Where did I hit……?’
I removed my Ear Protection and Safety Goggles. Just then, a sudden gust swept past me.
My gaze caught on the rippling forest.
‘I feel like I’ve seen this before.’
As far as I could remember, I’d never ventured this deep into the woods. So what was this déjà vu?
It was as if I’d seen this same view with someone before…….
—What’s a date?
“……?”
I spun around. Mallo stood a step behind me, watching quietly.
“What did you just say?”
“Nothing.”
“But I’m sure I heard your voice just now…….”
—I told you. Here, remembering your name is more important than anything else.
My head spun. The world tilted.
“Professor, I…….”
—Stand up straight. Don’t ever run away again.
‘Mother?’
Goosebumps rose across my skin.
That was unmistakably Mother’s voice.
But why? Why would Mother say such a thing to me…….
“Human memory is composed of various layers.”
“……What?”
Mallo turned me back around. With one hand he cradled my elbow, and with the other he supported my wrist from behind, positioning me to aim squarely at the target.
He spoke.
“Memory isn’t a single block. The sensations, physical responses, and emotions of that moment are each stored in the cerebral cortex, prefrontal lobe, and so on—when recalled, they’re reconstructed anew, much like an edited version.”
“I’m……not sure I follow.”
“What I’m saying is that ‘erasing’ memory the way people commonly imagine is nearly impossible. The most practical way to minimize brain damage is simply to block access—but that’s only a temporary measure anyway.”
The words made no sense to me. Yet my chest stirred with ominous unease.
Still holding my hands in position to aim at the target, Mallo continued.
“Each region is connected directly or indirectly to the others, and the human brain is always finding workarounds. A slip of paper, a familiar landscape, a voice you know—any of these can trigger a Flashback.”
Click—his long fingers overlapped mine on the trigger. Then bang—the gun fired.
I stared blankly at the target, pierced clean through. Mallo asked.
“How does it feel?”
Only then did I realize his left hand was covering my ear.
“I…….”
How did it feel? I looked back and forth between the trembling forest and the smoke rising from the gun barrel.
There was only one thing I could say.
“……I’m scared.”
Mallo looked down at my face.
“You’re pale.”
Perhaps.
I raised my hand and touched my face. My fingertips were cold.
‘What’s wrong with me?’
An ominous feeling crept over me. But why? I didn’t want to think about it.
I didn’t want to look too deeply.
I grabbed Mallo’s sleeve.
“Should we go do something else?”
“…….”
“Let’s go get ice cream, okay?”
Mallo smiled faintly.
“Let’s do that.”
Yet my trembling didn’t stop. He regarded me for a long moment, then asked.
“Should I hold you?”
“…….”
“……Can I hold you?”
I nodded slightly.
He drew me close gently. As the cool fabric of his sleeve brushed against my cheek, my trembling gradually subsided.
I gripped his sleeve with both hands. The sound of the forest reached me distantly.
For a moment, time seemed to stop.
* * *
Sitting in the passenger seat, I scraped at the Seatbelt with my fingernail as I spoke.
“Earlier……you said erasing memory is impossible.”
“Strictly speaking, it’s not impossible.”
Mallo kept his eyes on the road as he answered.
“It’s just difficult. In some cases, you’d need to restructure the entire brain.”
“……Restructure?”
“Human identity is organically linked to memory, habit, and behavioral pattern. Even a single lost memory can shake the foundations of existence.”
I turned his words over in my mind.
“So if someone lost a specific memory—no matter how small—they’d be a different person from who they were before the loss?”
“What’s your real question?”
“The Candy you gave me the day we first met.”
I recalled the snake den I’d seen in a dream.
‘But was that really just a dream?’
What I saw after eating that Candy felt like an actual memory of mine. It was as if I’d regressed to my younger self and was observing my experience at that time.
“That Candy……did it help me recover my memories?”
“In a manner of speaking, yes.”
His matter-of-fact answer left me dumbfounded.
“Then why didn’t you say so from the beginning?”
“Because it’s your choice to make.”
“But I didn’t even know I had a choice. How was I supposed to——”
“Did you really not know? Or did you just not want to?”
“……I don’t understand.”
Mallo shook his head slightly.
“Rest for now. We still have time.”
“…….”
I obediently leaned my head against the headrest and closed my eyes.
Was the voice I heard at the Shooting Range truly Mother’s? If so, where in my memory had it been sleeping all this time?
Dwelling on questions without answers would only make me anxious. Besides, there was no reason to think I’d have any good memories from that time.
So it was better not to think about it.
Better not to remember.
“……Would you play some music?”
Mallo glanced at me. Soon an unfamiliar string melody flowed through the car. A man with a rough voice sang in English, but I couldn’t understand the lyrics.
“What’s the title?”
“Iris.”
“It sounds like an old song.”
“Older than you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Looking at the landscape beyond the car window—now familiar—I felt deeply unsettled.
* * *
Lee Chae-eun always felt the shadow of her predecessor lingering at her back.
Perhaps it was only natural. Though years had passed since that person’s retirement, she was still referred to as “A” and remained the standard by which the Research Institute was measured.
Yet now, of all times, a mysterious email from that A had arrived. How was she supposed to process this?
“Director, you wanted to see me?”
A researcher poked their head in after knocking.
“Ah, yes, come in for a moment.”
Lee Chae-eun checked the hallway and closed the door.
As director of The Agency’s only Research Institute, her office wasn’t particularly spacious.
Due to the nature of the work, the location couldn’t be changed freely; they’d used the same building for decades.
Most of the furniture still bore her predecessor’s marks for the same reason.
“You visited Headquarters last week, didn’t you?”
“Ah, yes, Director. I should have mentioned it in advance. If there was anything you needed to relay…….”
“No, it’s not that. It’s just…….”
Lee Chae-eun sighed.
The email’s contents weren’t the kind that could be deciphered. It looked like a string of meaningless data, or perhaps just a simple error message.
Yet Lee Chae-eun felt a powerful sense of déjà vu.
Her predecessor had once sent her warnings in much the same way.
It wasn’t that some hidden message was buried within that data—the data itself was the message.
Something was profoundly wrong.

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