[Your approval rating decreases.]

[Currently, 62% of the beastfolk belonging to District 13 support you.]

Honestly, it seemed unlikely that the party would be able to clear the scenario on their own.

There were two reasons.

First, if I left this scenario, Bihyung would most likely stop cooperating.

If that happened, we wouldn’t be able to display the ‘tale’ we had altered outside the Recycling Center.

Second, even if Bihyung did cooperate, without my ‘Faceless Mask’—which allowed me to change into other animals—there were many tales that could not be reenacted.

If Stageification of tales became impossible, the party would no longer be able to raise approval rating through ‘tale repair’.

The conclusion was obvious. For the party, I absolutely had to remain here.

It was then that Killer King spoke.

“Go, Kim Dokja. This place is enough with just me.”

His voice sounded oddly resentful. His tightly clenched fist trembled faintly.

“Go first. Go and wait for me.”

“Killer King-ssi is right.”

Gyeong Sein added a word.

“You can go ahead. The great danger has passed already. The bears also seem to have given up. And did you see earlier? We even have a tale now!”

“It’s not as if we won’t meet again.”

Uncle Dansoo also joined in.

Standing beside me, Cha Yerin nodded.

“You can trust us.”

The only one who didn’t say anything was Ye Hyeonwoo. For some reason, he glanced at me, then silently lowered his head deeply.

Looking at Ye Hyeonwoo like that, I slowly closed my eyes.

Trusting the party was certainly one possible solution. With their current state, they really might somehow manage it.

And even if they failed, I could become the representative of the ‘Tiger Who Eats Rice Cakes’, successfully complete the next scenario, and then come back to find them.

But if I did that, what would happen to the story we had built here?

The story we had raised through 「Three Little Pigs」, 「The Fox and the Crane」, 「The Goose That Laid the Golden Eggs」.

The time we had slowly accumulated to stand against <Twelve Zodiac>: starring a panda and a wolf, gathering in a small brick house to plan the next “tale.”

“Dokja-ssi?”

By any measure, following the ‘Tiger Who Eats Rice Cakes’ was the enticing choice.

Having a powerful patron at my back, competing rapidly on a larger stage, earning rewards—this was the kind of story constellations desired.

Yet the reason I hesitated—

“Tiger Who Eats Rice Cakes.”

—was because these people called me ‘Kim Dokja’.

“What I promised was ‘attending the Twelve Zodiac Martial Ball’. Not becoming your ‘representative’.”

Kim Dokja, who hated having a backer constellation so much that he became a constellation himself.

For Kim Dokja—who tried to solve everything solely by building tales with his own strength—this was not a matter of choice.

“I’m sorry, but I will decline your offer. I will attend the ‘Twelve Zodiac Martial Ball’ with my party, using our own strength.”

“Wait, Dokja-ssi!”

“And according to our contract, it seems the timing of my attendance at the ‘Twelve Zodiac Martial Ball’ is up to me.”

I finished firmly, without avoiding the Tiger’s gaze.

Even if the ‘Tiger Who Eats Rice Cakes’ had a personality different from what I had imagined, after saying this much, I believed he would understand.

Because—

「The ‘Tiger Who Eats Rice Cakes’ is certainly a ‘reader’.」

There was no other possibility.

If the ‘Rat Who Eats Nails’ was a reader, then the ‘Tiger Who Eats Rice Cakes’ had to be one as well.

He was the one who had watched us the whole time together with the Rat. If he wasn’t part of the Reader’s Alliance but was indeed a reader, I believed he would understand my words.

[NoNoNoNoNoNoNo.]

The rat hiding behind my back trembled as it spoke.

[Runrunrunrunrunrun.]

Violently shaking its head, the rat tugged at my sleeve. With trembling fingers, it pointed at the fallen bears.

A realization came to me belatedly.

「Which <Twelve Zodiac> member lured the bears here?」

I turned my head and looked up at the ‘Tiger Who Eats Rice Cakes’.

A chill rose slowly from my toes.

[Your exclusive attribute becomes extremely activated!]

The tale I had been unable to read for a moment, overwhelmed by the presence of a constellation.

The ‘tale fragment’ that urged on the bears’ desire and spurred them forward.

[Tale fragment, ‘Fanning’, has paused its story.]

I could now clearly see where that ‘tale fragment’ had originated.

“Tiger Who Eats Rice Cakes. Were you the one who sent the bears here?”

I didn’t want to believe it.

The indirect messages he had sent me rose one by one in my mind.

[Constellation, ‘Tiger Who Eats Rice Cakes’, agrees with incarnation Jeong Heewon’s will.]

He had understood Jeong Heewon’s wish to protect what was precious.

[Constellation, ‘Tiger Who Eats Rice Cakes’, says you only need to attend the ‘Twelve Zodiac Martial Ball’ once later.]

He had sacrificed massive plausibility just to give me the ‘demon-species core’.

I didn’t want to believe that such a constellation would do something like this—that he would endanger fellow readers.

“Why—”

Even if I didn’t want to believe it, I had no choice but to hear the answer.

[Tale fragment, ‘Fanning’, fumbles through its story.]

His tale was speaking for him.

The ‘Tiger Who Eats Rice Cakes’ had sent the bears as scouts to observe Lycaon’s movements. And he had sacrificed them without hesitation.

The tiger’s mouth opened as if spitting out spoiled rice cake.

[Are you truly asking for a reason? Do you think something so small requires plausibility?]

Was this really a ‘reader’ who had read the same story as our party?

[Little rice-cake slice, it is something your tiny head cannot understand. Do not think. Just grab the rope I am offering.]

Perhaps it had been my delusion from the start.

The ancient tales surrounding him spoke in his stead.

[Tale, ‘Aged and Sick Guardian’, mocks your faith.]

[Tale, ‘Evil Beast’, laughs at you.]

[Tale, ‘One Who Summons Chang-gwi’, roars.]

[Tale, ‘Monster Who Eats Humans’, stares at you.]

[Tale, ‘Owner of the Rotten Rope’, gleams its eyes.]

…….

Within those tales—so old I couldn’t even guess their age—the soul of the ‘Tiger Who Eats Rice Cakes’ could not be seen. Through the cracks of thickly layered tales, his faint soul appeared only as—

[It is time to leave.]

—a tiny, tiny rice-cake crumb.

“Dokja-ssi!”

The voices of my party calling me grew distant for an instant.

The thing that looked like the ‘Tiger Who Eats Rice Cakes’ stretched a hand toward me.

As the irresistible force of the contract began pulling my body toward him, something repelled his power.

A warm, gentle wind.

There was no need to ask who it was.

“Lycaon.”

【Step back, Hoju.】

I tried to speak.

You must not interfere.

That is our contract.

And in this <Star Stream>, contracts are the most sacred form of plausibility.

【It is fine.】

District 13 began to shake entirely.

[<Star Stream> detects an unexpected action by the ‘Lost Guide’.]

[The Administration Bureau is attempting to control the unexpected situation.]

The ‘Tiger Who Eats Rice Cakes’ was smiling.

[Caught you, foolish Otherworldly aberration.]

As Lycaon’s rank overflowed, a message flew through the air.

[<Star Stream> adjusts the Scales of Plausibility.]

The Tiger’s power grew in proportion to Lycaon’s.

Chchchchchck.

Even if the opponent was a great-personage constellation, Lycaon was revealing his rank here without any contract or scenario.

And the Tiger’s rank was far stronger than expected.

[Constellation, ‘Tiger Who Eats Rice Cakes’, roars!]

A strike from the Tiger flew toward Lycaon’s trembling incarnation body.

[Disappear, aberration of the Otherworld―!]

A giant rope clenched in the Tiger’s jaws whipped like a lash. His head spun like a spinning top, swinging the rope and unleashing a massive shockwave.

【Hoju.】

Lycaon threw his entire body to block the attack. As though he were guarding the only path allowed to him.

【There is little ground permitted to me. I am not the protagonist of this world. So I will speak briefly.】

Instinctively, I understood. Lycaon was about to tell me something he should not say.

But why—

【The one you seek is in the ‘■■■ Abyss’.】

“Lycaon, wait! What does that—”

【Find the other recorders. Gather the vanishings of the world, and—】

Lycaon’s body was disintegrating. His wind was fading. I reached out toward him.

【Become the ‘Kim Dokja’ you desire.】

Lycaon’s voice scattered into the wind. His firm shoulders, his brilliant mane, were disappearing.

In his final moment, a faint smile flickered across Lycaon’s face.

【Thank you for telling me your stories. So I will tell you one last story in return.】

Lycaon’s incarnation turned to ash.

Through the rising blue smoke, the ‘Tiger Who Eats Rice Cakes’ was smiling.

I stared blankly at the place where Lycaon had vanished. Something glittered there.

「SVRP. PW 041.
Report on anomalous entity.
Entity ■■■ already has [Wind’s Path] recorded.」

It was the record left behind by the Recorder of Terror—by Lycaon.

「Direction for complete restoration of entity. What matters is ‘rereading’.」

Rereading.

Before, I would not have understood what that meant. I would have said that I had already read that sentence, that I had read it again and again, countless times.

That I was the one who had written that sentence. That no one knew it better than me.

But in that moment, I understood.

「In your left hand, the gale」

To ‘reread’ something did not mean reading what you already knew one more time.

「In your right hand, the storm」

It was akin to ‘transcendence’.

Just as Yu Joonghyuk ascended to transcendent seats with new realizations each time—

「Where straight lines and curves meet」

—I, too, had to understand the sentence in a new way every time.

「The Wind’s Path will open.」

But how?

“Lycaon.”

Smiling bitterly, I spoke to Lycaon—who could no longer hear.

“I still don’t know what it means.”

The only thing I could understand was the time Lycaon and Kim Dokja had spent together.

In the deep night when even the Dokkaebi King would «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» have slept.

Whenever he woke from his slumber, Lycaon taught me [Wind’s Path], and when no answer appeared, we shared old stories.

【Hoju, back then in the Dark Castle…】

【Hoju, in the Holy Demon Great War…】

【Hoju, when the archangel closed the gate on the Ark…】

Those were the stories of the previous Kim Dokja.

Lycaon mostly asked about Kim Dokja’s feelings, so most questions were ones I couldn’t answer.

I answered as though I had become Kim Dokja. I imagined the responses only Kim Dokja could give.

And strangely, as I continued to answer—

【I see. So that is what you felt.】

—it really felt as though Kim Dokja was inside me.

【Thank you, Hoju.】

I recalled the last question Lycaon had asked as we looked at the moon glowing above District 13.

【By the way, Hoju. Did you… also perhaps want to return home?】

The wolf’s finger pointing at the great moon. Seeing the moon reflected in Lycaon’s eyes, I thought about him for the first time.

Lycaon before the scenarios began. The wolves of Kronos running across the plains. The wolf prince roaring toward the wind at the head of the pack.

Only then did I understand ‘rereading’.

What mattered was not the sentence itself.

To read something meant reading the years layered onto that sentence. Imagining the time built between the lines as one wrote, read, and remembered it.

To understand the time of the wolf running through a dying world, and to respond to that time.

“Yeah. I wanted to go home too.”

The sentence didn’t change—the one reading it changed.

[You have understood ‘Wind’s Path’.]

A path opened.