It Does Not Exist

Twelve people? Ten squad members, plus Karen as captain, made eleven people in total. That was a fact everyone knew. So when they heard Alfred report a count of "twelve people," everyone froze. Karen did not think Alfred had miscounted, but either way, he had to count them himself. "Alfred." "Present." One. "Bart." "Present." Two. "Ashley." "Present." Three. "Ventura." "Present." Four. "Muri." "Present." Five. "Memphis." "Present." Six. "Richard." "Present." Seven. "Mars." "Present." Eight. "Blanche." "Present." Nine. "..." "Present." Ten. "Philomena." "Present." Eleven. Karen pointed to himself. Including him, twelve! Calling names one by one, how could there possibly be a miscount? Karen had looked directly at each person, called out their name, and heard their response before tallying each number. *"Only then did I realize—wait, something's not right. I came in alone, haha..."* The letter ended there; Piston had written no further. Yet there was only a wooden doll here, no skeletal remains. Even after more than a century, if a man had died here, his bones would still remain. Even if he had been killed right after writing that, what about the wax seal on the envelope? Evidently, Piston had discovered an extra person beside him, casually jotted down that sentence, sealed the envelope with wax, slipped it into the doll's mouth, and wedged it behind the stone. He probably hadn't died here—at least, not in this exact spot. However, now was not the time to ponder Piston's fate. The immediate situation had to be handled first. "Twelve people? I counted twelve, too." "How could there be twelve?" "Who's the extra one?" Everyone began taking their own head counts. Without exception, every result came to twelve. Karen clapped his hands and addressed them all. "Everyone, hold hands and form a circle." They all obeyed Karen's order, joining hands into a circle. "Now, take careful note of who is on either side of you. Starting from me, with Alfred second, we'll count off. One!" "Two!" "Three!" "Four!" "Five!" "Six!" "Seven!" "Eight!" "Nine!" "Ten!" "Eleven!" "Twelve!" The last one to call out twelve was Richard. Twelve. Still twelve! Everyone's expression instantly darkened. That meant the extra person was standing right there among them, holding hands in their circle. Could the hand they were holding belong to... "Richard, starting with you, count off again, heading toward Memphis!" "Yes, Captain! One!" "Two!" "Three!" "..." Alfred: "Eleven!" Karen spoke: "Twelve." Twelve again. Karen let go of his hands and instructed, "Everyone has a notebook and a pen in their pack. I want each of you to ask the others who is standing on their left and right. Then draw a circle on paper with their names. Make sure you don't get the positions wrong!" He couldn't assign just one person to do the asking. What if that person had a problem, or was the one being influenced? Soon, eleven sheets of paper bearing names—including Karen's own—were laid out before him. Karen began comparing them one by one. "This has eleven people. This one has eleven, too. This one, as well..." The handwriting and layouts differed on each sheet, but the results were identical. The relative positions were entirely accurate, and every sheet listed eleven names. He counted the sheets of paper: eleven in total. "The count is right again?" Muri asked, bewildered. "Yes, the count is right again." Karen stood up and commanded, "Everyone, form a circle and count off once more." Everyone immediately complied. After the new round of counting off: twelve people. Karen pressed his lips together and said, "Mars, Memphis, use an array to probe the surroundings and see if there are any unusual energy fluctuations." Memphis offered, "Captain, should we set up an isolation array and then count off inside it?" Karen shook his head. "No need." "Understood, Captain." Memphis asked no further questions and set to work with Mars, laying out the detection array. Karen was not doing this to cut corners. That "extra person" had managed to force its presence into their awareness right beneath their noses repeatedly without anyone noticing. That meant even an isolation array would place no restraint upon it. Most importantly, Karen already had a suspicion about what it was. Mr. Hoffen's notes contained a record of a similar incident, presented in the form of a story. A team from the Church of the Abyss had entered a secret realm to investigate. There were nine people in total, but in the end, only one survived—and that survivor had gone mad. Whenever questioned about what happened, he could only scream repeatedly, "The tenth person!" The man's mental breakdown was irreparable; even searching his memories proved impossible, as his entire perception had been thoroughly warped. The primary clue came from a notebook found on him, written before his descent into madness. His experiences had been much like what Karen's team was facing now: a nine-man team turned into ten, yet no matter how they searched, they could not find where that tenth person was. In the end, that "tenth person" had killed the others one by one. At the end of the account, Mr. Hoffen had offered a clear commentary in three statements. First statement: The sole survivor did not survive out of good fortune; rather, it was likely that the "tenth person" lacked the ability to kill an individual standing alone. Second statement: This "tenth person" definitely exists, yet a squad of priests could not uncover it no matter what. Ruling out the possibility of a hidden powerhouse playing a pointless game of cat and mouse for amusement, it is likely that the nature of this "tenth person's" existence is deeply irregular. It can exist within human perception and cognition, yet leave no physical trace behind. Combined with its ability to kill people but inability to kill the last remaining person, its method of killing must require a specific medium of transmission. This is not a physical problem, nor even a theological one... or perhaps theology once recorded it, but I have yet to find such records. This should be a cognitive issue—a method of killing through cognition. Third statement: I add this with a touch of excitement. I was once deeply intrigued by this incident, but the investigation wrapped up hastily because I could not conduct a thorough on-site study. Yet when I learned of the evil god Raniedal's peculiar mode of existence, this incident suddenly came back to mind. Raniedal exists, yet is virtually impossible to perceive, even if he stands right beside you. Even when Diss perceived him, Diss could not harm him. In an attempt to resort to extreme measures, Diss even tried using soul fire, yet still could not touch him, only inadvertently burning himself instead. In the end, however, Diss seized him, gripped him, and I personally sealed him into Kevin's body. This was because the state of his existence changed—much like raw egg turning into a hard-boiled egg. You cannot skewer liquid egg with a fork, but a boiled egg is easy to catch. A pity that I am about to die. Oh, no—I am already dead. So this research topic must remain shelved. Of course, Karen, if you ever hear of something similar in the future, you may try continuing this research for me. ... Karen recalled the contents of those notes and drew a deep breath. Therefore, this "twelfth person" was very likely to kill. Though he did not know when or how it would choose to act, it was certainly no harmless onlooker. In Mr. Hoffen's hypothesis, this "extra person's" state closely mirrored Raniedal's back then, which meant the dog at home likely possessed some understanding of this phenomenon. Unfortunately... he hadn't brought the dog along. Evil gods were handy because they represented "wisdom." But in most cases, bringing a golden retriever along on an expedition meant a high chance of the pet dying abruptly if real danger struck. Yet the problem at hand had to be solved as soon as possible. "Captain, the scan results are out. There are no unusual energy fluctuations here," Mars reported. Muri speculated, "Captain, could this be due to the environment here, or the effect of some special artifact, causing a collective error in our perception? For instance, we might subconsciously believe there's an extra person when none actually exists, because our perception was altered without our realizing it?" Alfred spoke first. "No. If our collective perception were being altered, the names we wrote on paper should have totaled twelve as well, not eleven. There would be no reason to alter only our count when calling out numbers and not change the sheets of paper too—not if it possessed the ability to alter cognition, as you suggest." Karen said, "Alfred is right. We cannot dismiss this as a natural phenomenon and ignore it. I believe it poses a serious threat." Muri nodded. "Understood, Captain." Karen raised his hand and instructed Mars and Memphis, "Set up a defensive array." Then he turned to the rest of the squad. "Full alert!" "Yes, Captain!" Karen found a spot to sit down. He counted three more times; it was still twelve people. While the others carried out their duties, they kept counting as well, arriving at the same result every time. Under these circumstances, Karen began pondering how to break the stalemate. No matter what, that thing had to be ferreted out. How had Diss captured Raniedal back then? Karen placed his hand silently over his chest. Diss had bored a hole through Karen's chest, and when Raniedal attempted to enter Karen's body to take it over, Diss had dragged him out directly through that hole. But the problem was that Karen wasn't Diss. Diss could achieve his goal through such means, but Karen couldn't do that at all, nor could he even comprehend it. The array was completed. The outer, middle, and inner security perimeters were established, yet everyone remained thoroughly on edge. The sensation was like lying on your side in bed, trying to sleep, while hearing the sound of someone breathing right against the back of your head. Alfred approached Karen, crouched down, and said, "Young Master, I intend to probe again using my own methods." "Go ahead. Also, gather ideas from the others and test them out systematically." "Understood, Young Master." Watching Alfred walk away, Karen decided to attempt contacting the outside. First, he cast a simple concealing barrier around himself. Seeing the captain's intention, the squad members immediately looked away. Then Karen activated his symbiosis contract. Before long, Purr's silhouette materialized behind him. At first, Purr's eyes were closed. But soon, having sensed the call and responded, the figure behind Karen slowly opened its eyes. "Karen, what happened?" Purr spoke rapidly. This form of communication was immensely taxing; while Karen could afford the drain, she currently could not. Karen spoke just as quickly. "I've run into trouble deep inside the tomb. Our squad has eleven people, but when we call names and count off, it becomes twelve. Mr. Hoffen's notes recorded a similar incident and compared it to Kevin's state of existence back then. I need to find this extra person, or I can't continue the raid. It's likely to kill." "Wasn't that the evil... its exclusive state? That's what we always thought. Oh, so it wasn't exclusive, but some special ability belonging to that stupid dog?" "I believe so. Can you reach Kevin right now?" "Actually, yes! Aseroth inherited his father's possessions, and the lining of his stomach still holds the communication altar and other items I set up in his father's belly back then. They're well-maintained, and I can get them working with just a few repairs. There are even a few crystals left for power. I can try to connect to the communication array back home from here and talk to the stupid dog. That's all for now—I'm cutting the connection before I pass out from exhaustion." "Alright." Purr's phantom closed its eyes. Karen exhaled, and her figure dissolved. Karen then chuckled. Did this count as phoning a friend for help? Initially, when contacting Purr, Karen had harbored a faint hope of obtaining advice or experience directly from her. But now, with Purr able to reach Kevin from inside Aseroth's belly, this was even better. *Next time, I really should bring both the cat and the dog along.* Karen sighed. In truth, he still had another option: turn back immediately, retreat from the tomb, return inside Aseroth, head ashore, and rest properly in the coastal town while having a long chat with Kevin over the telephone. For the sake of his and his squad members' lives, Karen was willing to call a temporary halt to this tomb raid. Beyond the three-thousand Order coupon tip, he had incurred no major expenses, and the captain had covered the intelligence fees. Most importantly, the Congers family line was broken. Even if they withdrew for now, this ancient tomb would still rest quietly beneath the seabed. However easily they had entered this time, they could enter just as easily next time. No one was going to sweep the graves or recalibrate the mechanisms. A temporary retreat was entirely viable. What worried Karen most, however, was that the extra "twelfth person" had not made a move yet. He feared that attempting to retreat might provoke the entity into killing immediately. Putting himself in its shoes: if he were that entity, having seen no living soul for a century, the sheer excitement of suddenly seeing a group of living people would be overwhelming. It had to be thrilled. Perhaps the entity was lingering around each of them right now, reluctant to strike so soon, wanting to watch a bit longer, perceive them a bit longer, and play a while longer. The moment it realized they intended to leave, it would hesitate no more. Under these circumstances, Karen preferred to spend a little more time keeping "that presence" company. ... "What are you doing?" Memphis asked, seeing Richard scribbling on a sheet of paper with a pen. "Memphis, I feel like it's messing with us," Richard replied. "That's obvious." "Actually, there's another way." Richard pointed with his pen to the list of names before him. "What way?" "Karen... Captain only had us draw our positions just now. In fact, he could have us report our numbers on top of that. There are eleven of us, but the count ended at twelve. That means somewhere on this list, between two adjacent people, there must be a gap of two. And between those two people is very likely where that thing is standing." Memphis stared at Richard in astonishment. "Heh." Richard gave an embarrassed laugh. "Don't look at me with such admiration." Memphis shook his head. "You don't understand at all." "Huh?" "It isn't playing duck-duck-goose with us holding hands, nor is it standing between two people and shouting out a number. When we can't see it, or when it's in this hidden state, our perception of it—and its existence relative to us—is not that of an ordinary person... do you understand?" "That's a bit... profound. Explain it a bit more." Memphis continued, "It isn't an invisible man standing among us. Don't make it out to be so simple, got it?" "I think... I kind of get it." "Sigh, you really are thick." "You can't blame me for that. You know my dad has a screw loose. As his son, I'm bound to inherit a bit of it." Memphis: "..." ... After sitting for quite a while, Karen waited for Purr to contact him. His biggest worry was that Purr might collapse from exhaustion before getting through; the last time she had communicated like this, she had slept for two or three days straight. Just then, Alfred walked over to Karen, crouched down, and reported, "Captain, I've tried many methods, but none have worked." "Don't lose heart. I'll have a solution in a little while, and when the time comes—" Suddenly, Karen's body shuddered. Looking down, he discovered Alfred's hand had plunged straight into his chest! A sinister, mocking voice rasped: "Heh heh... it seems you really might find a way to catch me."