Turning-Chapter 925

Up until now, he had come here twice. Both times, it happened after an anomaly rift had appeared and he had fallen asleep. But this time, there hadn't been any major event related to a rift—so why had he been brought here again?

‘What the hell.’

The moment Yuder let out a deep, frustrated sigh, he felt an icy chill crawl up the back of his neck. He hurriedly turned around—and sure enough, there it was again: the hand clad in a white glove.

‘.......’

The instant Yuder saw the ten fingers dangling limply some distance away, silently facing toward him, he opened his mouth almost unconsciously.

“I didn’t come here because I wanted to.”

‘.......’

His voice, at least, came out fairly normal this time. It still sounded like it was being swallowed by water, but he decided not to care about that anymore.

Whether it heard him or not, the white-gloved hand remained silent. If it had a face, or eyes, or even a body, it would have been much easier to figure out what it was thinking.

But it was impossible to read emotions just by looking at a hand. No one could do that—except maybe Kishiar himself.

And Kishiar wasn’t here right now. Yuder pressed his lips tightly together, then added another sentence.

‘I tried to tell you last time, but you shoved me away, didn’t you? Back then and even now, I didn’t come here because I wanted to, so don’t blame me.’

He still didn’t know exactly what that hand was. From the familiar size and feel—and from some inexplicable certainty—he suspected it belonged to Kishiar, or more precisely, Kishiar la Orr from his past life. But it might not be. Even so, just looking at it naturally brought up all the lingering emotions from his previous life, and so Yuder’s tone grew gradually sharper, like a thorn digging into flesh. The patience and maturity that years of accumulated experience had granted him were useless here. It felt almost like he had reverted to being his true, barely twenty-year-old self—the one he thought he had long since forgotten.

Always anxious, full of anger and defiance, harboring emotions that were half resignation.

And the white-gloved hand, just like the Kishiar from back then, simply hung there without a reaction. No matter how brazen Yuder’s words grew, the man would only look like he might laugh—or not—while letting out a weary breath. Yuder found himself remembering the Kishiar who would clasp his fingers loosely together and slump deep into a chair as if he just wanted to rest, and gritted his teeth to force the memory away.

‘What the hell. Last time you were answering just fine using your fingers.’

Frowning, Yuder suddenly recalled something Inon had said.

‘-Then you might end up going back there again someday. ...If you do, ask. You said it answered whatever you asked, right?’

He thought it ridiculous, having to deal with a mysterious being that showed nothing but a hand. But since the opportunity had come so quickly, it seemed smarter to shelve his doubts and just ask whatever he could.

After quickly organizing his thoughts, Yuder began to speak, firing off his questions rapidly.

"You said this place could be either, or neither. Is this the afterlife? Or is it beyond the rift?"

‘.......’

"Are you someone I know? How can you even be here? Don’t give me some roundabout answer like ‘because you’re here I exist’—explain it properly. And I have no idea how I got here, so if you know anything about that, I’d like you to tell me. Honestly, I’m having trouble focusing because I can't tell if this is a dream or reality."

‘.......’

"And if you’re planning to push me out again, could you at least tell me where the exit is this time? I really don’t want to experience getting shoved out like last time. You probably don’t know what it feels like to fall helplessly, but it’s not pleasant."

‘.......’

"You used to answer each time by moving your fingers—don’t tell me you’re tired of that too? If you don’t want to, or if you won’t, at least show some ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) sign of refusal. You can do that much with just your fingers, can’t you?"

Yuder shook his fingers slightly as he finished speaking and then fell silent.

Crossing his arms, he stared sharply at the hand, waiting. Finally, the white-gloved hand stirred.

Or more precisely, it wasn’t the hand itself that moved—it was the air around it that quivered. The chill, the faintly fishy black darkness, seemed to waver so softly that it almost felt like it would disappear.

Just like all those countless times when the present-day Kishiar would silently smile at him.

‘What...?’

Frowning in surprise at the thought that had surfaced, Yuder watched as the faint ripple vanished like an illusion. Then at last, the white-gloved hand approached him and stopped at chest height. One hand reached out carefully and tapped the tip of Yuder’s crossed fingers.

It seemed to be asking for his palm.

Yuder slowly unfolded his arms. The white glove grabbed his fingertips and gently pulled.

Somehow, the posture resembled the way he and Kishiar had once held hands when preparing to dance. Except now, the sensation was cold and not at all pleasant—but the stark contrast between the two hands caught Yuder’s attention.

His black-gloved hand and the larger white-gloved hand.

While he stared at them, the white-gloved fingers began writing something across the surface of his black glove.

‘Even though only this much remains,’

‘It’s truly strange that you still treat me as myself.’

‘I would prefer if you didn’t.’

“...What do you mean, you'd prefer if I didn’t...”

As Yuder frowned and tried to speak, the hand continued moving.

‘Your guesses were not wrong.’

‘Mostly.’

‘Though that would be my own assumption.’

Was it answering his question about whether this place was both the afterlife and beyond the rift?

And the line about it being his guess—did it mean it was something Kishiar had guessed first, not Yuder? The thought sent a shiver down his spine. How could a being that was just a hand know and say such things?

As his thoughts raced, the fingers paused briefly, then began writing again.

‘You come here’

‘When the gap widens greatly.’

‘Between there and here.’

‘Then you are naturally drawn in.’

‘By remnants of power’

‘Not fully burned away at the end of causality.’

‘.......’

‘Through the connection.’

The word connection struck him unexpectedly, like a blow to the chest. Yuder clenched his jaw and stared down at his palm.

Connection... that much made sense, but the part about remnants of power not fully burned—what did that mean?

‘Power. Remnants of power.’

The phrase “not fully burned” naturally conjured the image of fire.

And normally, when something burns, the only things left are bones, magic-imbued items, or things protected by some extraordinary force. Kishiar had still been wearing those gloves when he died.

Protective gloves imbued with numerous magical powers. Was it suggesting that because of them, this hand had survived? But it didn’t seem to be just that.

At that moment, strangely, amidst his rapidly turning thoughts, his mind returned to something else that had nagged at him: the contrast between their two hands.

Black glove and white glove.

The hands inside them.

Yuder knew very well what would be visible if he removed his own glove. Veins, blackish-red and grotesquely raised, would spread over his skin, marking him unmistakably.

His hand, transformed after being hit by the force that had erupted when retrieving the Red Stone.

One of the first major changes that had separated his past life from this one.

And Yuder had long suspected, based on dreams of his past life, that Kishiar had worn gloves for a similar reason.

But it had only been a guess. He had never once seen Kishiar’s bare hand—not even at the moment of his death.

If the hand beneath that glove was indeed as corrupted as Yuder’s own, it would prove that Kishiar had also been imbued with the raw power of the Red Stone.

Remnants that hadn’t burned away.

Powerful force.

In a burst of impulse, Yuder moved.

He grabbed the end of the white glove with his black-gloved fingers and pulled.

The white glove slid off with no resistance.