Salvation Through Delusion C12

Chapter 12

“The carriage carrying Adeye Lantua happened to pass near the Eye of Hell when the accident occurred. Because of that, even without an antenna, I ended up in this body. Miraculously, there were skilled healers and mages nearby as well. It was… an impossible chain of luck.”

Her explanation was brief, just a few lines, yet the weight of it sank heavy through the quiet. The weariness in her expression made it easy to imagine the confusion, the pain, and the sheer struggle she must have endured.

“I survived by a miracle, but for several years, I couldn’t act freely for various reasons. I should have closed the Eye of Hell the very moment I arrived, but…” Her tone hardened. “The Eye of Hell was created here, in Tuvine.”

Her gray eyes burned with restrained fury.

“When the Eye first opened, the visions that people saw weren’t illusions.”

Visions. I hadn’t seen them myself, but she was right—countless witnesses described it when the rift first appeared. The sky split apart, a searing white light swallowing the horizon.

And within that light—barren wastelands without a single blade of grass. Dozens of people stood before a massive stone altar. A figure clad in armor stepped forward, and from her back radiated a brilliant golden aura.

The glow grew blindingly bright before exploding outward—and in that instant, the Eye of Hell was born in the sky.

Then came the monsters—surging from a black valley beyond, only to be swallowed by the Eye as if the world itself had inhaled.

Because of that vision, people believed another world existed beyond the Eye—and that they were the ones who had created it. They’d spent years trying to send someone across.

And the woman before me… she was living proof that they had succeeded.

“I tried to find a way to send word about what I learned in Tuvine, but there was no method that wouldn’t expose me. So once I gained some influence, I used divine relics to shield scrolls and sent them through. I didn’t think it would work. But you’re telling me… you actually received my data?”

Her voice trembled, thick with emotion. I waited for her to steady herself before continuing.

“At first, we didn’t even realize it came from one of our own. There was no information about you at all.”

“I didn’t include anything about myself. If anyone on this side discovered the scroll, it would have meant my death.”

“Yes, I heard that anyone who approaches the Eye—regardless of their rank or status—is executed.”

“That’s right.”

She smiled faintly, though it carried no joy. “Especially the temple. They revere the Eye of Hell as a sacred phenomenon.”

She noticed my puzzled expression and waved it off. “Don’t frown like that. It’s because the Eye was born from the sacrifice of a divine beast. But enough about that—tell me, how’s the situation on your side?”

Her voice softened, but her gaze was heavy with worry.

“It’s already been ten years since I left. The Eye has opened several more times since then. But we have advanced technology—surely, you’ve managed to hold out?”

I smiled weakly. “We’re surviving. One way or another, those who remain always do.”

Her eyes searched mine in silence. Then she asked, barely above a whisper, “It’s bad, isn’t it?”

I hesitated. There was no gentle way to say it.

“Whatever you’re imagining… it’s worse.”

“…”

“Dr. Kim.”

“I’m fine,” she said, raising a hand to silence me. She brought the respirator tube to her lips and took several deep breaths before drinking from a small glass vial on the desk. She did it so fluidly that I realized this must have been part of her daily routine.

“Just… give me a moment,” she murmured.

Her gaze dropped, and her voice turned quiet. “I’ve gained considerable influence here. The Eye of Hell was opened using the power of a divine beast. To close it, another divine beast is required. Fortunately, it doesn’t need to die in the process, so I can convince its clan to help. Three years—no, just one more year, and I can make it happen.”

“How will you do that?”

“With money.”

“…Excuse me?”

“Money,” she repeated, her tone flat. “I’ll buy their cooperation. Just hold on a little longer.”

Her voice shook like that of someone confessing a sin.

I could barely fathom how she’d endured all these years in a foreign body, in a world that wasn’t hers—all to save the world she came from. Ten years of struggle, sickness, isolation—and yet she’d never abandoned her mission.

How could I tell her what she’d find if she ever went back? That there was barely anything to go back to?

She took another breath through the respirator, then removed it again. Watching her fight for each breath, I blurted out the first question that came to mind.

“Dr. Kim, how have you even survived… in that body?”

She met my eyes and said simply, “Money.”

“…Right. Of course.”

“By the way,” she continued after a pause, “your pronunciation of ‘Dr. Kim’ is remarkably accurate. You must be familiar with Korean.”

I gave a small shrug. “Well, yes. I’m Korean too.”

Her eyes widened. Slowly, the same storm of disbelief and emotion returned—the same as last time.

Wait. Oh no. Not again—

“Wha—! A compatriot?!”

Her exclamation ended in a strangled gasp, and before I could react—

Ding-ding-ding-ding!

The bells went off again like mad. The door burst open, healers flooding in for what felt like the hundredth time.

“Dr. Kim!”

“What did you say to her this time?!”

The secretary’s familiar shriek echoed as I backed away, hands raised helplessly.

“I didn’t even say anything weird this time!”

—

Four days later, we met again.

Same office. Same oxygen mask. More medicine.

“So,” she said the moment I entered, “you’re really Korean?”

I bit back a sigh. “Yes. But before that—how are you feeling today?”

“Fantastic. Cough, cough.”

“…”

“Give me a moment.”

She lifted a hand and rang a bell. Within seconds, a maid entered with a tray and set down two cups of pale amber liquid before leaving.

Tea, I assumed. But when I caught her watching me expectantly, I blinked.

“…What?”

“Not going to drink it?”

I didn’t particularly want to—I’d just had breakfast—but if I didn’t, she’d probably glare herself into another fainting spell.

So I obediently lifted the cup and took a sip. Then froze.

“…Su-jeong-gwa?”**

Dr. Kim’s expression twisted, clearly fighting a grin.

“Does it taste like that to you?”

“Yes. Exactly like su-jeong-gwa. You’d only need a few pine nuts on top to make it perfect.”

Her face darkened. Then she muttered under her breath, “Damn it. There aren’t any pine nuts in this godforsaken world.”

I almost laughed. “Still—it’s amazing. I never thought I’d taste su-jeong-gwa here.”

I took another sip. No response.

When I glanced up, she was staring at me with so much intensity it was almost suffocating.

Her gaze brimmed with pure, overwhelming trust—like I’d just become her right-hand man by complimenting her cooking. The chief secretary would probably faint if she saw this.

“How did you even make this?” I asked.

“With money.”

“…Of course.”

“So,” she went on, “where are you from?”

“Incheon.”

She inhaled sharply. “Hhff!”

Her face went pale, her breathing ragged. I jumped to my feet. “Dr. Kim?!”

But she was faster. She pressed a button on her desk, and within a second, two healers rushed in, examined her briefly, treated her, and left as quickly as they came.

What the hell is this routine?

Still stunned, I hovered awkwardly until she motioned for me to sit. Between heavy breaths, she said, “I’m from Incheon too.”

Even as she wheezed, her eyes sparkled.

God help me. If we’d attended the same school, she’d probably dig me a grave right now out of sheer excitement.

“So,” she said, “which kindergarten did you go to?”

…Kindergarten? That’s where she’s starting?

I forced a smile. “Uh, S Kindergarten, I think—”

“Ah!”

She gasped dramatically.

“Dr. Kim! Are you okay?!”

I bolted up again—but she beat me to it, downing a potion in one go before calmly continuing as if nothing happened.

“Near Incheon City Hall?”

My heart was still racing. “Does that detail really matter right now?”

She ignored the question entirely.

“Dr. Kim, maybe we should stop talking about my background for now? You seem a little… overexcited.”

Her lips parted like she might argue, but after a moment, she nodded.

“Sorry. It’s just—what are the odds? After all this time, to meet someone from my home city.” She smiled faintly. “It’s a miracle.”

“I understand. But… I’m not actually part of the Unified Research Institute.”

Her expression froze. “…You’re not?”

 

**Su-jeong-gwa (수정과) is a traditional Korean cinnamon-ginger punch 

It’s a sweet, chilled drink usually made by boiling cinnamon sticks and ginger, then adding brown sugar or honey, and finally topping it with pine nuts when served cold.

It’s got this warm-spicy aroma from the cinnamon but a cooling, refreshing taste — Koreans often drink it after heavy meals or during holidays like Chuseok (Korean Thanksgiving).