Bailonz Street 13

Damn it. Why is he so quick to shut his mouth? Can’t he be a bit loose-lipped for just one day?

But if I pushed him further, Liam Moore would probably burrow even deeper into the couch. So, I tried to soothe him.

“Anyway, let’s put that aside. I won’t ask too many questions. Just answer what you can from what I’m curious about.”

“Alright.”

“What was ‘it’ earlier?”

I knew it. Liam muttered. Your curiosity wouldn’t let you pass that by.

If he knew so well, he should have never hinted at it in front of me! I smirked and crossed my legs. The blood on my clothes had dried, causing my blouse to stiffen and rustle. I’ll have to throw it away. It’s ruined. I should have cleaned it immediately, but I didn’t.

Meanwhile, Liam raised a finger.

“…I’ll explain two simple concepts first. The world is not singular.”

I wasn’t surprised. Actually, my secret is probably more shocking. If I told him I came from over a hundred years in the future, he would definitely shake his head in disbelief. ‘Jane, don’t joke about that,’ he’d say. If that ever happened, I’d have to predict something years ahead to prove it.

Anyway, his truth didn’t faze me. Being trapped in a game that became reality, another world or parallel universe wouldn’t shock me.

Then he raised another finger.

“And there are more things living between worlds than you might think. What appeared on the train is a being from there. It’s a grotesque flesh-eating creature that sucks blood to sate its hunger. If it drains someone’s blood, they die without exception. Think of it like a jellyfish, but a bit more horrific and brutal.”

“It sounds like a vampire story. Please tell me Nosferatu doesn’t actually exist.”

“Sorry to disappoint you.”

Damn! Really?

The man laughed, amused by his own words, making it hard to tell if he was joking or being serious. I couldn’t laugh; I had just been told that a creature I thought existed only in classics might actually be real. Liam Moore shrugged.

“We call it a ‘Star Vampire.’”

I repeated after him.

“Star—”

But Liam Moore quickly silenced me by placing his finger on my lips, then looked off into space before turning back to me.

“You can’t. This is all I can tell you. Keep it in your mind but never speak of it again. It’s better to forget it. Treat this story as if it never existed. Saying its name is like… a two-way communication with the entity itself. When I call you ‘Jane,’ you recognize me,”

I muttered along,

“If I call it… it recognizes me too.”

Liam Moore chuckled darkly, his face etched with exhaustion. It was as if he had faced something beyond human understanding. He looked worn out. Even steeped tea leaves wouldn’t be as drained of color. He seemed faded, like an old photograph.

I suddenly felt like he wasn’t entirely human.

Three times. I had almost lost my mind three times. I was so terrified, disgusted, and horrified that I wanted to blow my own head off. But Liam Moore spoke of it casually, as if it was an old companion. This was the first time I saw him revealing such a secret. It wasn’t the face of someone overwhelmed by accumulated stress.

What had he gone through? What made him so drained? His gray eyes held a color that no human should possess. His pale, sickly face bore the mark of death.

The man gritted his teeth and turned away from me. He wanted to hide his face, even if it meant hiding forever in the shadows of the lantern.

At that moment, I realized how weak and simultaneously strong a person could be.

He had seen these things his whole life.

I felt certain of it. And Liam Moore didn’t want to show me what he saw. He feared I would end up like him—faded and lost, losing my original self.

Knowing this, I couldn’t help but feel a deep pity for the man before me. Here was a person swimming desperately to survive in a vast, endless ocean. Pity blurred my judgment.

Liam Moore.

“Liam Moore.”

He raised his head at the sound of his name, his deep eyes wavering.

How do I appear in his eyes? What kind of image?

To me, he was a stranger, someone with a side I didn’t know. Maybe the things I missed, the fleeting glimpses, were his truths. If so, he was truly the first of his kind that I had ever met. But,

I reached out my hand, and at that moment, he seemed very young, as if he had just found his true age. I tousled his hair gently.

He looked bewildered. Seeing that, I couldn’t help but laugh. My small laughter brought a bit of light back to his dry expression, like raindrops falling on parched land, his clouded eyes gently trembling.

“But someday, if necessary, if I ask, you’ll have to tell me more.”

His eyes stayed fixed on mine, like it was the first time he had seen something like this.

The stranger answered,

“I will.”

The following words reassured me that he was still the Liam Schofield Moore I knew.

“I’ll do as you say.”

My words always remained with him,

and he never pushed them away but held them close.

It felt refreshing.

＊ ＊ ＊

Not long after, Liam Moore complained of fatigue. It was probably because he had overexerted himself.

I, on the other hand, felt too queasy to sleep after the earlier tension. My heart was still pounding, and my head ached.

Liam, now resting his head on a corner of the sofa, was dozing off. Seeing his head droop precariously, I couldn’t just leave him like that. I gently encouraged him,

“You need to wash up and sleep. You look like a muddy puppy that played in the rain.”

Liam Moore mumbled, half-laughing,

“Does that mean… I’m a dirty dog?”

This guy, really?

“I know you’re tired and half-listening to me, but seriously, look in the mirror. You’re a mess. Did that octopus from earlier give you a beating?”

“Do I look like someone who’d get beaten up?”

His grumpy voice made me laugh. He seemed annoyed that I called him ‘a mess.’

“Anyway, you can’t lie next to me looking like that.”

Liam protested,

“There’s no place to wash here. No bathroom.”

Ah, right. Nineteenth-century trains didn’t have washing facilities. Most train journeys were short. For long journeys, there were sleeper cars, but the plumbing wasn’t advanced enough to connect water tanks throughout the train. It was common to use hotels with indoor plumbing during longer trips.

Would there be one here in this game?

I checked the map just in case. Of course, there were no labels for a bathroom or shower. Damn. Figures. What a nuisance.

Resigned, I poured the drinking water onto a dry towel and began wiping Liam Moore’s dirty face. He mumbled about it being cold but obediently offered his face.

“We’ll stop the train tomorrow… and stay at a hotel…”

Liam’s words slowed down. I laughed.

“Right. We’ll wash then. For now, just sleep like this. You have a change of clothes, right?”

Liam, eyes closed, answered,

“Mmm.”

I rummaged through the trunk and handed him pajamas.

While Liam drew the canopy to change, I took off my blood-stained blouse and put on my pajamas. The dried blood on my shoulder came off with a few wipes of a damp cloth.

Liam patiently waited for me to finish changing. He didn’t seem to be coming out, indicating his patience. After making one last save, I approached the bed and drew back the canopy.

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