MTL
Home.
My destination.
The reason I want to use the wish ticket.
A strong yearning to escape this world and return to the place I once belonged to, commonly referred to simply as: 'I want to go home.' ...Only in my head!
Something I'd never openly discussed before had suddenly been drawn out
during the interrogation.
'Where's my home?'
I forced myself to loosen my grip on the chair.
I must not lie.
"Why are you suddenly asking about that?"
"...I heard you value your home."
From whom? No...
...I remembered.
So, what wish are you hoping to fulfill?
To go home.
Agent Choi must have told him.
I recalled the hellish night I met Director Ho in the taxi, and the subsequent conversation with Agent Choi.
"..."
Home.
Up until that point, it was assumed to be a personal conversation unrelated to suspicions of espionage.
'Still, why did he mention it openly?'
Isn't it dangerous?
Even if Agent Bronze knows, nothing changes.
I changed the subject.
"Can I tell you where I commute to and from work?" "No. That's not your home." ...!
Agent Bronze silently looked at me.
"I know you're staying at a motel."
"..."
"I've already confirmed your room has almost nothing personal, let alone furniture—just a few sets of clothes."
It felt like something private I'd been keeping secret was exposed. "You can't call that home. No, you've deliberately kept it that way. You didn't even apply for the Disaster Management Bureau's staff dormitory. ... Why is that?"
An unanswerable question.
"Agent Grapes."
"..."
"You don't have to answer any of my questions. Just know this."
Beyond the glass wall, Agent Bronze spoke clearly: "This conversation is strictly for my personal use."
"..."
"No recordings or separate records will be made. Only I will hear this." I raised my head.
Agent Bronze, meeting my gaze, nodded slightly, placed down his documents, and spoke...
"I never had a home in the first place."
"...!"
"My parents divorced when I was young. After my mother died, I grew up
in an orphanage."
Wait.
"Even though I lived, ate, and slept there, I never considered it home. Instead, I thought of the villa I had lived in with my mother. Even though I hardly remembered it, I felt it strongly."
Personal stories poured into my ears—stories of a past not recorded on the wiki.
No, not stories from anyone...
'Agent Bronze.'
An acquaintance's personal history.
"Then, while commuting to school, I encountered a supernatural disaster. That was my first meeting with the Disaster Management Bureau. When I asked how to work there, they just laughed."
After hearing his story, the Bureau introduced him to a safe, student-friendly job.
It was a strange bookstore managed by the Bureau.
"I went to night school while working there. As soon as I finished college, I passed the Bureau's exam immediately." Agent Bronze looked directly at me.
"That's why I'm here now."
"..."
"Now, when I hear 'home,' I think of the waiting room at Black Tortoise Team 1, the dormitory at the Bureau, and the faces of people around me."
Ah.
"So, I'd like to ask you this question."
Agent Bronze quietly asked:
"...Agent Grapes. Is your home no longer in this world?" "...!"
"It existed originally, but you've lost it?"
I thought I heard words left unsaid: 'Like me.'
"..."
Unlike during previous interrogations, I wasn't restrained.
I could have avoided answering.
But...
"Yes."
"...!"
"It doesn't exist here."
A glimmer appeared in Agent Bronze's eyes.
"Did you work at Daydream because you wanted that home back?" "It's slightly different."
I carefully formed my response.
"I want to return home."
"..."
Agent Bronze was briefly silent, pondering my meaning.
But then—
"Agent Grapes."
His voice was firm.
"You can't return to a place that's already gone."
"..."
"There are only those who'll exploit your hope to return. Don't let them use
you. You're stronger than that."
No.
I knew he was wrong.
The wish ticket was real.
I understood his meaning, but it didn't apply to me.
"Can't a home be rebuilt?"
"...!"
"Just as I did."
I stared blankly, feeling as if struck in the head.
"Meet good people, find a comfortable place, and build somewhere you can rest peacefully."
Agent Bronze declared clearly:
"That place will be your home."
As though he considered the Bureau's cozy waiting room his own home.
Advice from someone experienced felt refreshingly certain.
Therefore—
"I don't necessarily expect you to be that certain. But I hope you'll at least consider it."
"..."
"Can you?"
I nodded slowly.
The glass wall showed no reflection.
Truth.
Relief gently softened Agent Bronze's expression. "Good. That concludes today's interrogation." "..."
"Rest well today."
I couldn't believe myself either.
How was I answering seriously?
Yet, the atmosphere was unexpectedly gentle, and my mind felt calmer.
As if I'd made a decent choice.
And Agent Bronze asked no further questions.
"Eat well and sleep well. I'll be your interrogator for the next week.
There'll be no harsh interrogations. Just rest."
He assured he'd provide necessities—excluding dangerous regulation-breaking items.
No falsehood in his words.
It seemed I wouldn't be sent into a nightmare labyrinth immediately.
'...Phew.'
To avoid interrogation traps, I'd eaten minimally and tried desperately not to sleep, but now my wakefulness was fading rapidly.
As fatigue was about to overwhelm me— "And this is...a personal question."
His voice hesitated slightly.
"Do you hold a grudge against Agent Choi?"
"...!"
"I'd understand. He moved you immediately to prison after your restriction lifted, without consulting anyone."
Agent Bronze's voice briefly held suppressed anger.
'Seems like they argued.'
Quickly hiding it, Agent Bronze continued: "But Agent Choi never intended to abandon you here."
Instead, he had continuously volunteered to interrogate me to communicate
directly.
However—
"Being the one who imprisoned you, his objectivity score failed during his
first interrogation application."
"...!"
"Fortunately, I passed. I was unsure what to say today, but—" Agent Bronze slightly bowed his head.
"I'm relieved you answered."
"..."
"See you tomorrow."
Agent Bronze again urged me to rest and vanished into the mist beyond the glass wall.
I was left alone in the glass prison again, accompanied only by the Goblin Flame.
Yet, not tension, but a dazed numbness lingered, as though struck.
And I considered the conversation again.
'Live here?'
Give up on returning home?
He suggested creating a new home here.
As an agent of the Disaster Management Bureau.
'...Is this interrogation bait?'
Given Agent Bronze's character, he likely wouldn't employ such deceptive tactics.
Then, it must be genuine.
With an implied condition:
The Bureau hadn't judged me an enemy.
And they hoped I'd continue working here.
"..."
Goodness.
'This situation seems unexpectedly decent.'
Perhaps, with Agent Bronze as interrogator, I could confess to minor
espionage, protecting my deeper secrets and safely leave this prison.
And maybe...
Continue working here.
Living as an agent of the Bureau.
Continuing work with Black Tortoise Team 1, spending days with good people doing good work.
If it became too difficult, maybe being entirely honest about my fears would
get me transferred elsewhere.
'That's not bad at all.'
No, it actually felt appealing.
Building a new home...
'No.'
I slapped my thigh audibly.
I shouldn't decide rashly while exhausted.
Agent Bronze assumed I'd lost my home through an accident or disaster.
I shouldn't misunderstand.
'My home exists, safe.'
Returning was difficult but not impossible.
I could do it...
Moreover—
I knew.
It wasn't wise to settle permanently in this 'Records of Darkness' world.
Do you remember the wiki subtitle?
Prophecy of Apocalypse: Records of Darkness.
Indeed.
'I shouldn't stay long.'
Because this world, from the beginning—
-Oh dear.
A polite, cheerful male voice.
-Your head seems troubled, friend.
"...!"
I jolted upright.
'Hallucination?'
-A hallucination? Could a hallucination sound this clear? Perhaps you missed Braun terribly, causing a slip of perception...
The smooth voice was too real for imagination. I quickly pulled it from my pocket.
A small rabbit doll.
Chills ran down my spine.
'How could it speak?'
Supernatural phenomena were completely blocked here— Ah.
Supernatural beings could still exist.
Like the Goblin Flame trembling on the wall now.
Thus, 'Good Friend'—the being here—wasn't just a doll, but recognized as a sentient entity—
—Yes, indeed. We've often chatted in your everyday life, haven't we! You can't treat a close conversation between friends as a mere trick. How hurtful, Mr. Deer! This is truly disappointing!"
The host, who had been speaking in a cheerful tone, faltered as he added the final comment. As if realizing something.
"—Yes… it's disappointing. …
—Seems like my friend isn't happy to see me. Even though it's been a week since we last spoke. —I thought… my friend would be delighted, like someone eagerly awaiting and finally watching a weekly show that airs on the same day."
"..."
"Then.
Has this stuffed doll been deliberately silent for an entire week, as if lying?"
"—There you go again. Calling me a 'stuffed doll'."
A chill crept up the back of my neck.
"—Hm. Well, it doesn't matter. The great talk show host, the show entertainer, must graciously accept any nickname or insult.
If that's what the public chooses. If that's what my dear friend chooses!"
The host's voice rang out cheerfully, echoing like the sound bouncing off a glass orb.
Like a mic's reverb, it echoed.
"—Very well. I must put on a marvelous show for my friend, who has had a tiring and difficult few days.
—Surprise! Look up, my friend!"
I stiffly moved my head.
Right in front of me, from the glass wall where the bronze agent had stood...
"—Let me introduce… The 'Glass Prison Escape Method'!"
A video began playing.
Like a screen.
"...!"
"—Isn't this far cooler than the children's cartoon we were supposed to watch together? Haha, oh my! You're surprised, aren't you? That's okay. Oh? 'Paranormal phenomenon,' you say? I don't know what that means. Watching TV is the most natural, everyday thing, wouldn't you agree! Now then…
Let's begin the show.
Then, an image appeared on the glass wall before me.
Introducing: 'How to Escape the Glass Prison'!