Bailonz Street 13

Chapter 173. Return (2)

My head is spinning. How is this possible?

I definitely played that game. I even received emails about every step of its development process.

But the fact that a game that should exist doesn’t, and that I’m the only one who remembers it, terrified me.

I opened the internet search bar and typed in “Misty London.” I tried it in both Korean and English. But there wasn’t a single record related to the game.

“This can’t be.”

This really can’t be happening. It’s impossible.

I spent a while searching the internet for everything I could remember. William Schofield Moore, Bailonz Street, Blemich Street, even Hisford.

“Nothing.”

It had all vanished as if it had evaporated.

The only thing I could find was an article about the Black King in some online encyclopedia. All I could learn was that the stories of all those monsters and gods I’d encountered were someone’s creation.

Then what were all those memories from the game?

I had never read such a story before. Never encountered it anywhere.

Was it just a vivid nightmare? But could a nightmare exist that was so long, so detailed, with every moment burned into my memory?

I forcefully bit my trembling lips. The stinging pain helped me stay grounded.

“Was it… a dream?”

But even that seems strange. How could a dream be so long, so detailed, so intricate?

None of the articles in the flood of information on the internet could resolve this mystery. Only a dull pain kept circling in my head.

After scrolling countless times, something finally caught my eye. It was a post on some blog.

It was a foreign blog cataloging incidents from 19th century London, and it included an old newspaper article about a massive fog in 1871. The blogger speculated it was smog, arguing that the Industrial Revolution’s prosperity in England came with environmental destruction.

That was true enough. After breathing London’s thick air, my lungs felt like they could finally breathe properly back in Korea.

“The mist of 1871.”

Deep down, I wanted to believe I’d just had a nightmare while playing a game. That I could completely return to how I was before, and with enough time, everything that happened in 19th century London would become nothing…

But that one thing was familiar. This was an incident I knew.

I’m not sure if it had existed before. When you study world history, you learn about the Opium Wars or Winston Churchill, not which years had floods or fog. Still…

Liam Moore’s voice faintly echoed in my ears before fading away.

‘A massive fog lasting several days… that should be enough.’

I unconsciously reached out to touch the monitor screen. The faded newspaper article, and an image that could have been either a photograph or an illustration. Cloud-like fog covering London. The only trace of Liam I could find.

It’s the 21st century. Hundreds of years have passed. Even if Liam Moore had really existed, enough time has passed that he would be dead now.

I should accept it. He’s dead, and I won’t be able to find his family either. Besides, with so much time passed, it’s not strange that place names have changed. It makes sense that Bailonz Street’s name has disappeared.

I sat in front of the computer for a while longer before finally getting up.

My finger still felt the phantom sensation of a ring, but…

I should forget.

Let it become a non-existent memory.

I sealed the world so the Black King couldn’t follow. Therefore, even the slightest possibility shouldn’t exist. I had to put away all memories of Liam Moore.

* * *

Time always flows quickly.

I became a senior like anyone else, living an ordinary life preparing for employment with internships and extracurricular activities like everyone else.

I developed a habit of wearing any random ring on my left ring finger because it felt empty. That was because of Liam Moore.

Having tea or coffee when I wake up, reading the newspaper at the dining table – these were habits I picked up from Liam Moore. Even resting my hand on my chin while deep in thought was his habit.

People around me say I’ve changed.

‘I’m not sure exactly what’s different… but Hee-in, you’ve changed.’

Everyone who meets me says that. Even I partly agree. I’ve become more composed and more… how should I put it? More rational, perhaps.

I can never go back to who I was before I knew Bailonz Street.

Whenever I notice how much influence a man who might not have existed has on me, that’s what I think.

It’s quite funny, really.

* * *

I’d fulfilled all graduation requirements, but I postponed graduating. Instead, I decided to travel. Now that I’d somewhat adjusted to peaceful daily life and accepted a world without murders or monsters… since I was living well. It seemed like a good time to travel.

Whenever people around me couldn’t accept my changes and found me strange, I felt like I’d become a foreigner. I was a foreigner in London, and it wasn’t any different here. I’d returned to my world, so why did I still feel like an outsider?

So I planned to be away for at least three months. Since I’d completed all my credits and didn’t need to attend school anymore, I wanted to take some time until graduation next August. I needed time to find certainty. Maybe if I wandered around different places organizing my thoughts, I could reclaim my life.

“Haah…”

On my way back from exchanging some travel money at the bank, a loud crash echoed from inside an alley. It startled me enough to freeze in place.

I’d passed by this alley several times before. Just passed by – I’d never actually gone through it. It was particularly deserted and sketchy, with no CCTV cameras.

I remembered a friend who lived nearby always insisting, “Never go down that alley!”

‘But what was that sound?’

I slowly rewound my memory. It sounded like… a trash can falling over.

My gaze unconsciously turned toward the alley. And then, I felt something off.

‘With such a loud noise. How could no one notice?’

It seemed like I was the only one who heard it.

No way, I must be imagining things. I was about to turn away when – BANG! Another loud crash echoed. It was loud enough to make my body shake.

It was too clear. Everyone passing by should have reacted. It was impossible not to hear!

‘But why?’

Why did no one notice?

I could see people just walking by, laughing and chatting. It gave me chills. It didn’t take long for my suspicion to turn into certainty.

Light and darkness were divided by a single alley. This side was bright and full of life, but the other side was clearly different.

Normally, I wouldn’t have gone in. It’s reckless. I know that. But… my body kept screaming. I had to check this out.

I hoped it was just a cat knocking over trash cans. With that thought, I stepped into the alley.

Suddenly, it felt like passing through fabric. Similar to the feeling of bumping into freshly washed bedding just hung on a clothesline. The sensation of heavy bedding colliding with me.

It was a sensation I knew too well. But it shouldn’t be here.

“…This is a barrier.”

And then.

“…!”

The smell of blood.

Splash. My shoe stepped in liquid. The sticky sensation I felt when lifting my sole slightly was definitely not a good sign.

Keeping my body low, I carefully peeked into the depths of the alley where the loud noises came from. And I couldn’t believe my eyes.

Ah. That shouldn’t be here.

I definitely crossed between worlds. Therefore, I shouldn’t encounter things like this. This is ‘unreal,’ isn’t it? My reality is something else. It’s not particularly pleasant to have something I left in the past come back to life and chase me. Did it follow me here?

It was a ghoul. I’d become familiar enough with monsters to recognize them at a glance. A dog-like ghoul was attacking someone who had fallen. Several times, magic crackled as if in resistance, but it was useless. When I saw the strength gradually leaving the attacked person’s body, I…

“Hey, you!”

Ah, this is really crazy.

I kicked a stray beer can, hitting the monster’s head. It was pure reflex. I don’t know. I’m not Jane Osmond anymore, I haven’t crossed any boundaries, and I don’t even think my body will remember its previous experiences. My body just moved on its own.

“Over here!”

The person being attacked looked at me with wide eyes.