Chapter 571: A truth for her.
They say the more you get used to something, the less excited it makes you — repetition dulls the sharp edges of wonder.
But none of that logic applied right now.
"Wha!!!"
"Whooa!!!"
"Ahhhh!!!"
Screams shredded the air as the coaster hurled itself into another stomach-lurching plunge.
The cars rattled, rails screaming like they were seconds away from giving out, and every single drop made gravity feel like a dare.
Hands shot up like white flags of surrender; hair and clothes whipped into chaos; the world shrank into a blur of rails and sky.
Alice’s laughter beside me cut through it all.
Bright. Reckless. Alive.
Unlike half the people behind us who sounded like they were meeting death head-on, she laughed through every corkscrew and snap-turn as if the whole ride were a secret joke just for the two of us.
Being in the front row made it even crazier.
The track unfurled ahead of us like an endless promise, the city spilling out below in miniature.
From here, the Ferris wheel looked like a single lazy eye keeping watch, the crowd below a shifting mosaic of hats, balloons, and pastel candy stalls.
I knew Alice would eat this up.
She was that type—the idol type.
The kind of girl who could make someone’s whole day brighter just by flashing a smile.
And seeing her like this, pink hair streaming behind her, eyes squeezed half-shut in pure glee—it loosened something in my chest.
Even I cracked, laughing hard.
"Hehehe, Riley, you look ridiculous right now!" she shouted, turning her head toward me.
The wind puffed her cheeks and pitched her voice higher, like she’d suddenly regressed into some mischievous kid.
I couldn’t resist. My hand shot out, pinching her cheek, just enough to tug her skin without breaking the moment.
"W-Wh-what are you doing—!" she tried to snap, but the wind swallowed half her protest and twisted the rest into a squeak, her mouth stretched wider by the rush of air.
She didn’t even lower her arms—still up, still free, daring the ride to shake her loose.
"Hahahaha!"
She puffed her cheeks and grumbled before reaching out, clearly about to pinch me back.
Of course, I caught her hand before she could even get close.
"T-That’s unfair! Let me do it too!"
"Nope."
"Tch. Meanie."
She pouted, but the glint in her eyes gave her away—she was enjoying this little game more than she’d admit.
With an exaggerated huff, she pulled her hand free and threw her arms back into the air, surrendering herself to the ride again, wide open, fearless.
"Alice," I called over the roar of the wind, nodding toward the distance, "we should try that one next."
"Hmm?"
She followed my finger, then lit up the second she spotted it—a massive dome with dark roofs looming like some mysterious lair.
Her whole face brightened, and she grinned so wide it was impossible not to mirror it.
I raised my own hands as the track curved into the final explosive turn, the last drop rattling our bones before the brakes screeched us toward the platform.
Maybe thrills like these couldn’t compare to the kind of danger we usually faced—life-and-death battles weren’t exactly the same thing as amusement parks—but still... fun was fun.
And no matter how mundane something might seem, moments like this were universal.
As the ride finally screeched to a halt, Alice practically bounced out of her seat.
Her trademark grin was already back in place as she grabbed my hand without hesitation.
"You said we should go to that black house, right? Let’s hurry up!"
"There’s no need to rush," I chuckled, but she was already tugging me forward, her energy too contagious to resist.
And honestly? I didn’t mind being dragged along. Not one bit
...
Dark.
"K-Kyaahhh!!!"
A girl’s scream split the air.
Up ahead, a couple clung to each other like their lives depended on it, the guy trying to look brave as he winked at the ghost actor lunging out of the shadows.
The two stumbled forward, practically tripping over each other as they hurried deeper into the maze of flickering lights and hospital corridors.
"Riley," Alice’s voice came steady, curious, "do people of this world really find the undead that scary?"
I couldn’t help a small laugh.
"Well, it’s not like the undead show up on every street corner. For normal people here it’s terrifying."
"I see..." she mused, tilting her head as she scanned the ’patient rooms’ lining the hallway. "Well, at least the mascots are putting in effort. Look at this makeup—" she leaned closer to a zombie actor’s face "—you’d need to be a real master of illusion magic to pull off wounds this realistic."
Before I could stop her, Alice casually grabbed the poor zombie by the shoulder.
The actor froze, unsure what was happening, as she turned him around like she was tidying up props and gently shoved him back into his hiding spot.
He peeked out at me afterward with the most confused expression I’d ever seen, like what just happened?
I scratched my cheek, suddenly feeling bad for the guy.
But honestly, I’d half expected something like this.
Considering the world Alice came from—and the fact that she literally had a fantastical cat companion whose grin of sharp teeth was scarier than any of these jump-scares—it made sense.
Ghosts, spirits, and undead weren’t rare for her.
If anything, this whole haunted house probably felt more like a kids’ play scenario dressed up with makeup than a genuine thrill.
We ventured deeper into the horror house, but as expected, Alice was far from frightened.
Her eyes sparkled with curiosity as she admired every detail—the fake bloodstains smeared across broken tiles, the grotesque props, even the holographic ghosts flickering in and out of view.
What was supposed to be terrifying to normal people felt more like a traveling exhibition of special effects to her.
"BOOOO!!!"
A severed head dropped from the ceiling, swinging on a wire right in front of us.
Alice blinked, leaning forward slightly as if inspecting its craftsmanship.
"That only startled you a little?" I asked, raising a brow. "I guess even a hyper-realistic beheaded head isn’t enough."
"Hm~? My, my. What’s this?" She smirked, tilting her head at me. "Could it be my dear junior wants me to act all scared, like that couple from before?"
"Well, not exactly," I admitted, grinning. "But seeing a scared Alice would’ve made my day."
"Hehe, no can do." She wagged a finger at me, her tone playful. "This big sis and lover of yours is far more mature than you think."
"I don’t really think maturity matters in a haunted house," I shot back.
"That’s true! Haha!"
Her laughter rang out, completely out of place in the dim, blood-smeared hallway.
It was so cheerful that the couple behind us broke into awkward chuckles, the carefully built horror atmosphere unraveling in seconds.
We kept walking through the winding maze until, finally, the exit appeared.
A signboard flickered overhead, and a cheery voice greeted us:
"Congratulations on making it this far, dear customers! As a reward, please accept these commemorative photos!"
The "staff" wasn’t staff at all, though—it was an android, its porcelain-like face smiling mechanically as it handed us glossy prints.
Alice’s eyes widened.
"This girl... she’s not human, is she, Riley?"
"Yeah. Think of her as a humanoid golem," I explained.
"Woah~!"
She circled the android like a curious child, utterly captivated. It figured—things like zombies and ghosts were mundane to her, but advanced constructs like this?
That was new.
I, meanwhile, took the photos from its cold hands and burst out laughing.
"Hahaha!"
"Hm? What’s wrong?" Alice asked, pausing mid-step.
I handed her the stack, and the moment she saw them, her eyes went wide before she clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle her laughter.
Instead of heroic shots of us screaming or reacting in terror, the photos captured the opposite: every ghost actor and zombie in the maze wearing expressions of confusion and defeat as Alice inspected them like props.
The highlight was a perfect mid-shot of Alice politely guiding a zombie back into his corner while he looked directly at the camera, face screaming, Help me.
Alice burst into laughter, louder than before. "Pfft—Riley! Look at his face!"
Her laughter was so bright it carried out past the horror house entrance, probably confusing anyone still waiting in line.
...
By the time the sky bruised into orange and purple, we’d ridden every ride that would let us, hunted down the games at every corner, and eaten more festival food than either of us should’ve admitted to.
We tried everything the park had to offer and laughed about the stuff that went wrong.
It was one of those days that felt full in the best, stupidest way.
Tip. Tap.
Our footsteps made small, light noises over the pebble path at the park’s side road.
The main attractions were a good walk away; their music and screams dissolved into the distance.
Strings of lanterns blinked to life one by one, like sleepy stars waking up for the evening shift.
The sun was low, bleeding gold across the skyline.
Our hands were locked — fingers woven tight, warm against the cooling air.
There was a quiet that sits between people who’ve been laughing all day; comfortable, easy, like the ride had loosened something in both of us.
"Hehe, that was so fun, Riley..." Alice breathed, voice soft now.
"I’m glad you liked it," I said.
"We should do this again sometime... maybe bring the others along as well?" she suggested, casual but hopeful.
"That’s an option," I answered, letting my thumb trace slow circles over the back of her hand. "But for now... you’re the only one who can know about this place, Alice."
My voice came out quieter than I expected.
A pause....
Then she tilted her chin, looked up at me, and nodded like she already knew exactly what I meant.
The moment we arrived, everything must have felt foreign to her—the faces, the people, the very world itself.
Technology that shouldn’t exist, concepts barely discovered, even the air seemed different somehow.
But it wasn’t hard for her to guess the implications behind this world for me, someone so intimately familiar with it.
Alice squeezed my hand back, understanding everything without a single word.
"Why don’t you ask me a question, Alice... I’ll be really honest this time," I said, trying to keep my voice steady.
"Won’t it be dangerous?" she asked.
"No, not really."
"Liar," she shot back, tilting her head, eyes sharp. "Although I may seem like a bit of an airhead, I notice things, Riley. They even called me Miss Detective, Grand Magician, back in my freshman year. The fact that we visited that cute clergy junior... that must mean there’s something dangerous you wanted to keep away from us, right?"
She’s sharp.
"Does it have something to do with your ascension?" she pressed.
I nodded.
"...."
"...."
Her pace slowed, and she finally stopped walking to look up at me, expression serious. "Be honest... will you get hurt if I know too much?"
I hesitated for a moment, weighing the truth against her concern.
Then I nodded.
"Yes..."
Her gaze softened, though it didn’t lose its intensity.
"I don’t know what you’re up to, Riley... but you remember the promise you made to all of us who love you, right?"
"Yes," I replied, meeting her eyes.
"Then don’t do everything alone from now on. You can’t tell us everything... fine. But rely on us when you can, and we’ll help you in every possible way."
I smiled inwardly. More than anyone, I knew she meant it.
"Whatever you’re doing... just promise me that you won’t get hurt," she added softly.
I returned her gaze with a small, determined smile.
"Don’t worry. That’s exactly the path I’m trying to pave..."
She looked unconvinced, lips pressing into a thin line, but eventually she sighed and nodded, letting our hands stay entwined.
Even if she didn’t fully trust the world I was navigating, she trusted me enough to walk beside me anyway.
Continuing to walk quietly.
The soft light from the sun blanketed the world, and for a while we just enjoyed each other’s company — no words, just small smiles and the little noises of two people who’d shared something big.
"Riley... you said I could ask you something, right?" Rose broke the silence at last.
"Yes," I answered.
She hesitated, eyes flicking away as if the question might bite. "...Will it hurt you?"
"No," I said, smoothing the worry from my voice. "Not at all."
"You’re lying again,"
"There’s a reason I asked Junior Enna to bless us both. Ask anything you want. Really."
She looked unconvinced for a moment, chewing the inside of her cheek.
Then she fell quiet, lost in thought. I watched her.
She seemed smaller now, like she’d folded inward to hold something private.
"I just have one question," she said finally.
Only one. Of all the questions she could have asked after last night — I almost expected a dozen.
"Go on,"
"What’s your real name, Riley?"
"..."
The world stilled for a second.
My mind blanked out like someone had hit pause.
So, she knew — or at least suspected.
She watched me with those curious eyes, not quite accusing, not quite sure.
Her little title of "miss detective" suddenly felt less like a joke.
I forced a small smile.
The truth was messy.
In the life I remembered before this one, I’d been a different person.
A young man named Han.
Over time, through mistakes and rewrites, I became Riley Hell.
’Only to realize that I had always been Riley Hell... from the start’
Does that mean I had never been Han though..?
Of course not.
Both names fit parts of me.
Both were true in different ways.
If she wanted the whole truth, maybe she deserved the whole answer.
I paused, steadying myself, then met her gaze.
"Han," I said quietly. "My name is Han."
She held the name in the air the way you hold a strange, bright coin — turning it over to see the edges. "Han... I see."
She didn’t look shocked.
Just thoughtful.
Maybe relieved.
Maybe it gave her something to hold onto.
I didn’t know which, and for the first time in a long while, I didn’t need to explain everything.
Saying my name felt like handing her a small piece of myself, something I hadn’t shared with anyone in a long time.
Alice blinked softly, as though she was clearing away the fog of doubt that lingered in her heart, before her lips curled into a gentle smile.
"Han... it has a nice ring to it, but Riley is just simply better hehe."
Her lighthearted giggle carried more weight than it seemed. It wasn’t mockery—it was acceptance.
A reassurance that no matter what truth I gave her, she would hold it carefully rather than break it.
I smiled too.
Truthfully, I really did prefer Riley as well. Han was who I had been, a shadow of my past, but Riley was who I chose to be now.
And maybe... that choice mattered more than the name itself.
[Warning]
[A portion of truth of the Heaven’s Anomaly has been spilled]
The day went on quietly after that, but with a different warmth.
It wasn’t just the comfort of her presence—it was the quiet acknowledgment that she now carried a secret piece of me.
That she accepted it without flinching.
As Alice and I wandered back from our small walk, talking about little things and laughing at trivial moments, the heaviness of what had been revealed lingered between us.
Yet instead of burden, it felt like strength.