S-Class Hunter Heals with Monsters - Chapter 189



Only Noblemtl

189. The record left by Torai No. 17

* * *

In front of the city library in Gold City.

Cheon Do-woon opened the gate and arrived, looking around.

Kim Na-ri also looked around with the face of a detective.

“Sir, how are you going to find the culprit?”

“Mana Detection. I’ll search around this library.”

All you have to do is find someone with a high level of ability who survived in the old days.

That alone would have greatly narrowed down the list of potential suspects.

Cheon Do-un spread mana.

At that moment, a middle-aged man ran out of the library.

Although he flinched at the aura that Cheon Do-un gave off, the man approached him steadily.

“Are you by any chance the Hunter Dodak?”

The middle-aged man looked at Cheon Do-woon’s face and smiled brightly.

“That’s right! I looked through the window and came here just in case… Ah! I’m the director of this library.”

The director shouted in an agitated voice.

He looked excited at seeing the hero of the old days.

“We are honored to have you visit our library! Is there a book you are looking for?”

There is no such thing. Cheon Do-woon tried to deny it, but stopped himself.

‘Come to think of it, the culprit wrote the comment in this library.’

I deleted that comment as soon as I wrote it. In other words, I wrote it impulsively.

In other words, he wasn’t worried about his location being discovered so he came all the way to the library.

‘Is this a place the culprit frequents?’

It wouldn’t hurt to look into it. Cheon Do-woon smiled at the director.

“I heard that you can’t enter here without citizenship. Is that true?”

“That’s the rule, but if you have a clear identity like Hunter, there’s no problem. If there’s a book you’re looking for, please let me know.”

There is no such thing. But I think it would be better to say something here.

Cheon Do-woon put into his mouth whatever came to mind.

“I’m looking for an old book. Do you have anything like that?”

“Of course. If that’s the case, then you’ve come to the right place. Our library is famous for having the largest collection of old materials. Please follow me.”

The director took the lead with a smiling face.

‘I was worried because the number of visitors was decreasing. I never thought I would get this lucky.’

A library visited by heroes of the old days.

If you use this as a promotional slogan, a lot of people will come. The manager laughed at the thought.

Cheon Do-woon also smiled as he unexpectedly had the opportunity to see an old book.

* * *

“This is the old-time book archives.”

The director took Cheon Do-woon to the reading room on the third floor.

The amount of data was small. This is natural, since there is not much data left from the old era.

“All the books here are copies. The originals are in the museum.”

“okay?”

“Yes. They are all precious… Now, only old historians come here. That’s always a shame.”

The director looked around the reading room and said:

“Come to think of it, someone came by a few days ago looking for some unusual information.”

“Unusual data?”

“Yes. I asked if there were any books with numbers in the title… What did he say? The number was 17… 17, what did he say?”

Cheon Do-woon has become an interesting face

17. It could just be the number of the book. But it still bothered me because it was the number I was once called by.

“Do you remember the book that person saw?”

“Of course. Just a moment.”

The director took a small book out of the bookshelf.

It was a small notebook the size of the palm of your hand rather than a book.

“I went to look at this. It looks like a diary written by someone from the old days. It is believed to have been written while fleeing.”

It was a copy that perfectly replicated the original in the museum, including the handwriting, the size of the notebook, and any damaged parts.

“What’s unfortunate is that the further you go, the less you can understand the content.”

“You can’t tell?”

“Yes. Please unfold the back part once.”

Cheon Do-woon opened the back of the notebook.

There was a crooked drawing there, like graffiti.

Apples, mountains, lunch boxes, bugs. People.

It’s graffiti whose meaning is unclear.

Still, Cheon Do-woon felt something odd about the graffiti.

“As you go on, it becomes harder and harder to understand what’s being said, and the handwriting gets weirder and weirder. The latter half is full of scribbles instead of text.”

“Really? What do the scholars say?”

“I guess it’s because of a head injury sustained during the evacuation. There are traces of a failed attempt at writing.”

Cheon Do-woon closed his notebook after looking at his doodles. He looked at the cover.

There was something handwritten on the leather cover.

【-…rai-… 7-…gi】

There were a few letters that were difficult to read.

As Cheon Do-woon looked at the title, the director opened his mouth.

“As you can see, the cover is heavily worn. Since it was found inside a collapsed building, the writing on the cover is difficult to read.”

Cheon Do-woon was silent. He looked at the letters on the cover and smiled.

“I didn’t expect to see this here.”

“Huh? What is that… Do you happen to know who wrote that?”

“I know.”

The director’s eyes widened at Cheon Do-woon’s words. He wanted to ask about the notebook, but held back.

Considering the historical background, there will never be a bright story.

‘Whoever wrote that is probably already dead.’

Perhaps it is the diary of a comrade who fought back to back.

If that was the case, I couldn’t ask without being tactful.

“Well, then I’ll be leaving now. Enjoy your time.”

Let’s give him some time alone now. The director nodded and left the reading room.

When he left, Cheon Do-woon sat down at the table.

“Sir, do you know who wrote that?”

“I know. My memory is hazy so I wasn’t sure. But seeing the cover reminds me of it.”

Cheon Do-woon looked at the half-erased letters on the cover.

【-…rai-… 7-…gi】

Most of the letters were erased, but it seemed to Cheon Do-woon that he could see the completed phrase.

【Diary of Torai No. 17】

If you restore the erased letters, that sentence will be completed. Cheon Do-woon opened his notebook.

Unlike the latter part, the first chapter had neat sentences written in it.

“My memory is fading”

It was the sentence written on the very first line.

It is certain. This is a diary that he wrote himself.

A note written after realizing that the side effects were starting to occur and that my memories were fading.

“Memories are mixed. The speed is fast. Sometimes I can’t remember the letters.”

It was the phrase written on the second line.

“Someday, all memories will disappear. That’s why I’m leaving this behind.”

Cheon Do-woon smiled as he looked at the written words.

I’m not the kind of person who’s emotional enough to keep a diary just because I lose my memories.

Still, there is one reason why I wrote this.

The reason why he started writing a diary flashed through Cheon Do-woon’s mind.

* * *

Cheon Do-woon started to experience side effects from the experiment when he was around twenty years old.

At first, he didn’t even know it because he was so forgetful.

My memories gradually faded away, just like clothes getting wet in a drizzle.

It was on a day when I turned 22 that the change became noticeable.

‘Why am I here?’

Cheon Do-woon stood in the ruins of a collapsed city. Monster corpses were strewn around him.

‘Are you here on a subjugation mission?’

The situation was perceived through the circumstances.

But I couldn’t remember what mission I had come here for.

Half a day’s worth of memory was completely lost.

He looked around.

Next to the monster’s corpse was a researcher in a white gown.

He was a person from the research lab who followed Cheon Do-woon to extract the monster’s cells.

[Hey. Have you ever hit your head on a mission?]

Cheon Do-woon asked. The researcher paused at that.

The researcher looked at Cheon Do-woon with a subtle expression and then stood up.

[This is already the fourth time you’ve asked that question.]

[The fourth?]

[Yeah. Once when I got here. Once when I cut off the monster’s neck. Once after I finished the subjugation. That was 10 minutes ago, and you’re asking again.]

The researcher said, sitting on the rubble of a collapsed building.

[To answer your question, you have never hit your head. You have completed the subjugation without a single scratch, even with a hundred men.]

[okay?]

Then why can’t I remember that? Cheon Do-woon looked around with a subtle expression.

[Are you losing your memory?]

[Vine. Here and there.]

[You admit it so readily. You would normally try to hide it.]

[Hiding it doesn’t mean the symptoms will go away. The lab staff will know anyway. What do you know?]

When Cheon Do-woon asked, the researcher laughed.

[I guess the side effects are starting to show for you too.]

[To me?]

[Yes. It must have started with my head first. It must have started a long time ago. It must have progressed so gradually that I didn’t even realize it.]

My head is going to break. Even after hearing that fact, Cheon Do-woon’s expression did not change.

The researcher chuckled at that.

As expected, that guy has a few screws missing from his head.

Even if you were to die right now, wouldn’t you have such a calm expression on your face?

The researcher opened his mouth with that thought in mind.

[I think I have memory problems. It’ll probably get worse.]

The researcher looked at Cheon Do-woon and took out a notebook from his bag.

[I’ll give it to you. Write your diary here.]

[Out of the blue. Why the diary?]

[Memories will gradually fade away. Write down your thoughts of the day, things you have to do, experiences, etc. That will help you maintain yourself.]

The researcher thought for a moment and then scribbled something on the cover of his notebook.

Diary of the 17th episode of Torai. The researcher wrote it with a playful face and handed it over.

[Memo. It doesn’t seem like a bad idea. If I lose my memory, I’ll take this and study it, right?]

[Of course. But I really do think the notes will help. Just try to hold out as long as you can while writing.]

The researcher said while looking at Cheon Do-woon.

[This will be your last record as a human being. So write whatever you want. If future generations find it, it might end up on display in a museum.]

The researcher said playfully. Cheon Do-woon looked at the notebook in his hand and smiled.

[It’s a record. Yeah. That’s okay too.]

Cheon Do-un’s Diary. Of course, I had no intention of writing something emotional.

This will be more of a notepad than a diary.

It will be more of a journal than a notepad.

Rather than a record book… .

[I should write down the characteristics of the researchers before I forget.]

It’ll be more of a death list than a record book.

Let’s prepare for when the memories come back someday. Cheon Do-woon smiled as he looked at the notebook.

* * *

The notes I started writing like that.

The notebook came into Cheon Do-woon’s hands after decades of travel.

‘I said the original is in the museum.’

The joke that it might be exhibited in a museum has become a reality.

The researcher who gave the notebook intended to take it and study it.

I wanted to know the thoughts of Cheon Do-un, who was also called Torai.

‘Yes. I vaguely remember. That researcher searched my room often.’

After Cheon Do-woon was transformed into a monster, the researcher often visited his room.

I searched everywhere to find the notebook written by Cheon Do-woon.

[No. Did you drop it during the mission?]

He would leave the room muttering like that.

When he left, Cheon Do-woon opened his mouth wide.

The face was split into eight pieces, and a notebook came out of the pocket inside the mouth. A small ballpoint pen also came out.

Cheon Do-woon wrote something in his notebook with his hands that had turned into a monster.

There was no longer any self as a human being.

It was just an action that I did out of the habit of taking notes.

I had forgotten how to write, so I was just doodling.

A picture of a researcher in a gown.

A montage of the face of someone who ransacked his room.

Although it was at the level of a child’s scribble, Cheon Do-woon drew diligently.

Cheon Do-woon’s death list was filled up one by one.

‘As I go on, I seem to forget my purpose and draw random things as well.’

Cheon Do-woon opened the back of the notebook and smiled at the doodles drawn there.

Apples, mountains, lunch boxes, bugs. People.

As I turned the page, a picture of a tentacle feeding a bug to a person appeared.

When Cheon Do-woon saw this graffiti, he realized the source of the sense of foreboding he had felt.

[Hey. Do you understand what I’m saying? If you’re hungry, would you like to try this?]

A person who came to mind beyond my blurred memories. Chairman Lee Woon-soo who offered me a piece of apple.

The day I caught a cockroach in return.

That day, when everyone was asleep, Cheon Do-woon took out a notebook from his mouth. He wrote down what happened that day in the notebook.

After drawing everything, I put it in my mouth and kept it.

“Yes. I remember. This is the death list I wrote… .”

This is my picture diary. Cheon Do-woon smiled at the old memories that came to mind.