The aftermath was handled swiftly. Backup personnel who had been waiting outside the art museum hurried to collect the wounded, and team leader-level agents directed the squad members. Those with severe injuries were immediately loaded into ambulances and transported to the Management Bureau building.
Kim Iseo was no exception. She had been pretending to be fine up until now, but no matter what, she couldn't remain unscathed after taking a shotgun blast at close range. Her burst hand and ragged stump were so grotesquely mangled that it was enough to turn one's stomach; she was in urgent need of treatment.
“At least it's recoverable. I hope your hand is still attached next time I see you.”
Ian spoke to her as she lay there. Kim Iseo fiddled with her pink hair, sticky with blood, and let out a terse laugh. Her face was drenched in an exhaustion that couldn't be hidden.
“Thank you. I'll let you know about the additional compensation separately by text, so please wait for it.”
“Good. I hope it doesn't take too long.”
“It'll probably be processed within a week. More importantly, will you be alright without receiving separate treatment, Mr. Sin Ian? I understand your internal injuries are quite severe.”
Vroom.
The ambulance Kim Iseo boarded started its engine. Ian stared at the vibrating vehicle and took a step back.
“I can get treated separately, so it's fine. I have no intention of owing the Management Bureau anything.”
“I see. Understood. I won't press you either.”
Letting out a small groan, Kim Iseo raised her upper body and bowed her head slightly.
“Thank you for your cooperation. Then, I'll see you again next time.”
“Sure.”
Ian waved and turned around. A moment later, the ambulance began driving quietly toward the Management Bureau building.
With this, all the wounded had been transported. Ian rubbed his aching stomach and glanced at Namgung Minhyeok, who was leaning against a tree.
Having regained consciousness only minutes ago, he had remained here instead of receiving treatment from the Management Bureau, saying he would get help from his wife.
He had heard that his wife was a medical ability user, but even so, she was only about as skilled as a good doctor, so Ian hadn't been particularly interested. After telling the Management Bureau agents, who were preparing to return, that he would make his own way back, he slowly approached the museum entrance.
“…….”
The snow-white museum. The interior of the closed museum relied solely on the sunlight streaming through the windows to illuminate itself. The lights were all silent. Dust particles revealed by the sun drifted lazily through the air, swimming leisurely in the empty space.
That was all. The unique red aura and refined interior of the art museum could no longer be found anywhere.
It had been annihilated.
The Five Senses Museum, which had been slowly devouring the concept of “museum,” had been cleanly erased from the world as of today.
Since it wasn't a mystery born from an urban legend, there was no chance it would ever appear again.
*If the mage were still alive, perhaps. But since even the grimoire has passed on, it's safe to say that possibility is nonexistent,* Ian thought.
Ian loosened his stiff wrist and carefully opened the museum door to step inside.
The transition that had occurred when he first stepped into the art museum did not happen again. He stood for a moment in the central hall of the abandoned, derelict museum, then came back outside with a faint smile on his face. Perhaps because he had gone through quite an ordeal, he felt a certain sense of satisfaction.
“Whew…….”
He stretched his stiff body and looked up at the sky. As he did, Kim Yul sidled up to him and linked her arm through his.
“It's all over now? Good work, newbie. You saved my life.”
“I won't deny it. Honestly, it's because of me.”
Ian smirked and tried to pull his arm free from Kim Yul's.
He tried. But Kim Yul held on tight, and he couldn't shake her off at all. If his body had been intact, maybe, but in his half-broken state, overcoming the strength of this damn filly of a woman was impossible…….
“What are you going to do now? Want to get something to eat together as a wrap-up? How about it?”
She asked nonchalantly, her arm, which she was exerting force with, trembling slightly. Ian stared at her with an incredulous expression, then let out a deep sigh and shook his head.
“……No, I don't want to do anything else today. I'm just going to go home and rest.”
“Ah, really? That's too bad…… Well, call me if you're bored. I'll come hang out.”
“I'll think about it.”
Ian felt the vibrations of the shaking grimoires in his bag and smiled to himself.
It was time to go home now.
*
Having taken a taxi home for the first time in a while, Ian immediately ordered a hamburger set, then took off his clothes and quickly showered. The clothes dirtied with blood, dust, rock powder, and the like were thrown into the washing machine without hesitation.
The magical power imbued in his coat would weaken the moment he used a machine rather than hand-washing, but even so, hand-washing this was a bit too much to ask.
Well, it was magic anyway; he could just cast it again, so it wasn't a big problem. He set the washing machine to maximum intensity, then flung himself onto the bed and let out a long breath.
“I'm damn tired…….”
Truthfully, the time spent clearing the art museum hadn't been that long.
It had only been a few hours at most. Not even a full day, let alone half a day.
But the density of that time had been too high. He had met a specter that once possessed an Outer God's grimoire, met the current owner of a grimoire, and even summoned a creature second only to the Lord of the Outer Sea in strength.
Every single one of them had been a major ordeal. If he had merely dragged things out slowly, he wouldn't have been this exhausted.
Still, the gains had been considerable, so he didn't particularly regret it. Ian stared blankly at the ceiling, blinking his eyes, then opened the bag he had carelessly thrown aside and took out the sealed grimoire.
The grimoire wrapped in blue cloth and chains.
The seal had grown considerably looser than before, but leaving it alone for the time being wouldn't cause any major problems.
That said, it was true that if the Submersion of R'lyeh completely fused with the sealing magic, it would become quite a headache.
“…….”
It was still at the hypothesis stage, but it seemed that the grimoires of the Outer Gods had no particular means to prevent each other from using magic on one another.
Put simply, the concept of cancellation didn't exist. A grimoire's magic could only be applied to another grimoire in its entirety; it was impossible to defend against. It was easiest to imagine them stabbing each other with spears that unconditionally pierced through anything.
That was why the sealing magic through the Tome of Contracts had worked, and why the Submersion of R'lyeh had begun assimilating into that magic. Honestly, there was no other way to explain it.
*If this hypothesis is correct, then in a fight between grimoires, the Abyssal Records would be the weakest. There's no way to apply summoning magic to another grimoire.*
Of course, there was practically no chance of a grimoire declaring “I'll kill you” and charging at another grimoire, so it didn't really matter.
[Uuung……!]
[Uung. Uuuung.]
…Probably. Ian made a bitter expression as he watched the Abyssal Records and the Touch of Re-creation bickering with each other, then turned his focus back to the Submersion of R'lyeh.
Anyway, under the assumption that the Outer God's grimoires fought by using magic on each other, the Abyssal Records was indeed the weakest. The story would change somewhat if a mage possessing a grimoire joined the fight, but there was no need to consider such extraneous factors.
And under the same conditions, the strongest was, without a doubt, the Touch of Re-creation.
[Uung.]
Slide.
The Touch of Re-creation responded to Ian's will and settled into his grip. The Abyssal Records, which had been bumping and fighting with it, flopped onto the floor with a thud, trembling roughly and shaking side to side as if indignant.
Ian gently stroked her to calm her down, then slowly released the seal on the Submersion of R'lyeh.
With a clattering sound of chains unraveling, the blue cover was revealed in full. The unsealed grimoire vibrated and swayed left and right as if fawning over Ian.
He ignored it. Without even opening the grimoire, Ian placed his hand directly on the cover and chanted an incantation.
“Be born anew.”
Crack!
The magic of re-creation activated upon the grimoire. As if proving Ian's hypothesis correct, the grimoire could not resist in the slightest and crumbled, transforming into a small card.
There was no time to feel malice, no time to flee.
Having lost even its identity as a grimoire, it perished. In the literal, dictionary sense of the word.
“…….”
For the final moments of an Outer God's grimoire, it was absurdly pathetic, but Ian felt no particular attachment.
Rather than keeping a grimoire with a filthy personality that transformed its master into a monster, disposing of it was far better. In the first place, shoveling down spoiled food just because you're hungry would only give you a stomachache.
“With this, the Submersion of R'lyeh will never appear on Earth again…….”
Ian let out a long breath and rummaged through the drawer, putting one of the remaining Clock Tower cigarettes in his mouth. When he lit it, a sweet lemon candy fragrance wafted up.
He bore no ill will or petty grudge toward the Submersion of R'lyeh. But that didn't mean he could just leave alone a piece of trash that came running at him saying “hug me.” Since he'd sealed it in an envelope, all that remained was incineration.
*Well, it's not like it was a well-regarded grimoire like the Lemegeton or the Grimoire of Pope Honorius. I don't feel any guilt over killing it.*
Ian smirked, went out to the yard, and burned through a cigarette.
A short while later, while eating the delivered hamburger set, Ian examined the remains of the grimoire that had transformed into a card.
Its appearance was ordinary.
A blue card. At a glance, it looked somewhat like a credit card, but there were no patterns or letters on it. It was simply colored a solid blue. It was also considerably larger than a credit card.
About the size of a notebook, perhaps?
“Hmm.”
Ian dipped a french fry in ketchup and rolled the card between his fingers.
At that moment, the Touch of Re-creation, which had been placed nearby, turned its pages on its own and showed Ian the alchemy section.
“……?”
He tilted his head and skimmed over the contents written in the grimoire. Then he slightly furrowed his brow.
“This is…….”
The page shown by the Touch of Re-creation.
There, on a page detailing elaborate alchemical crafting methods, only items with exceptionally high crafting difficulties were listed in a row—none of them ordinary alchemical objects.
And every single one of them required one common ingredient.
[Flesh of the Great One].
The name of an ingredient Ian couldn't even begin to fathom glowed brightly, scattering light all around.