Ming Po lowered his gaze.
He patted the girl's back, his pupils radiating a dim, sallow glow.
It was a color that ordinarily evoked thoughts of the end.
Yet, right now, it looked rather warm.
Like a bedside lamp, or the setting sun at dusk.
Like a family reunion dinner—though it marked the end of the day, it also promised a sweet, peaceful sleep.
"Maybe," Ming Po said slowly, "Daddy never left at all."
"Really?"
A touch of hope crept into Chizuko's voice.
Although Ming Po loved to deceive people, this statent might just be the truth.
Yoshihide painted his burning daughter onto the Hell Screen, etching her image into the eternity of art. And he only truly died when the painting was complete.
If Chizuko becoming a Paradox was like Yoshihide's dead daughter—then her own Hell Screen should have been left behind here.
But clearly, it wasn't.
But what if—he looked at it the other way around?
What if—
Chizuko, who was about to inherit the [Hell Screen] Title, was actually the painter Yoshihide, and the father who "sacrificed himself for the birth of this art" was the "daughter"?
"Making the challengers co to the first-floor hall to search for clues—you weren't the one who set up this task, were you?"
Ming Po spoke softly. "Was it a task left by your father?"
"Yes—"
Although Chizuko couldn't keep up with Ming Po's train of thought, she still answered his question honestly.
She was obviously a dungeon boss, yet right now she was as obedient as a child.
Or rather—she had always been a carefree child.
It was just the Ga of Deception that had forced her down this bloody path.
"Was this piano here back then?"
Ming Po asked.
"It was."
Chizuko answered, "But it wasn't this old—"
She hadn't realized that Ming Po had quietly ended his hypnosis.
However, Chizuko still hadn't broken free from his control—in fact, she had sunk even deeper.
Under this level of trust, such control could last for a very, very long ti.
Yet Ming Po didn't abuse this skill to take the opportunity to kill Chizuko with his dagger—instead, he was earnestly helping her solve the puzzle.
Seeing Chizuko inevitably stirred sothing within him.
Ming Po thought of himself. Or rather, he thought of his own childhood.
Ming Po was even a little—envious of Chizuko.
Both his and Chizuko's fathers were Deceivers of the World, and both had provided good lives for their families. Furthermore, both were away from ho year-round. Later, both he and Chizuko beca Deceivers of the World themselves—even reaching Zhou's Azure Lead Rank.
Chizuko's father was, without a doubt, a failure.
He failed to stay by Chizuko's side long-term, not because he had so grand ideal or sothing he absolutely had to do. It was simply because "his chips weren't enough."
Unless there was sothing absolutely necessary to do, using Ti Chips to Manifest was an incredibly extravagant thing for a Deceiver of the World.
Deceivers of the World below Zhou's Azure Lead Rank could hardly afford this exorbitant expense.
In a way, being a Deceiver of the World was like going to a developed country for work when the dostic economy was poor. If they could save up money, it would be easy to make a fortune upon returning ho.
But if they wanted to earn and spend locally, the ager inco from their labor simply wouldn't be enough. If they wanted to "live well," those paltry savings would evaporate instantly, and they could even go bankrupt at the slightest disturbance.
Only by having a "stable career" locally—like becoming a Deceiver of the World at or above Zhou's Azure Lead Rank—could one barely manage to survive with so dignity.
Even at Zhou's Azure Lead Rank, Chizuko's father's inco was still unstable. This ant his win rate was very low, or the organization he joined took a huge cut. Just paying the entry tickets took all his effort, making it impossible to balance the cost of Manifestation with the expenses of the Ga of Deception. And so, he chose to quit the Ga of Deception for his family. He left his peaceful life at the rcy of being destroyed by other Deceivers of the World at any given mont.
He gave up struggling against fate.
It was like going to the hospital for a check-up, forming a rough guess in your mind, and then choosing not to look at the dical report.
Plugging your ears wouldn't solve the problem, but it made you feel a little less awful.
But even so—
Ming Po still believed that Chizuko was happy.
Because her father would rather give up everything he had to return to them.
Although after that, because he couldn't maintain his expenses and even his talents beca diocre, causing him to fall from his new social class—he had still always stayed by Chizuko's side.
Then—
What about Ming Jingxing?
What exactly did he have to do, to abandon Ming Po all alone for over twenty years?
Ming Po grew up alone in solitude, matter-of-factly chewing up his pain, turning into the person he was today.
And now—looking at Chizuko, he seed to see another version of himself.
A version of himself that wasn't as powerful, wasn't as strong.
—If Ming Jingxing wasn't strong enough, if he himself wasn't strong enough—would the person appearing here today have been him?
"Daddy?"
Seeing Ming Po suddenly fall silent, Chizuko asked, sowhat bewildered.
She was a little scared, not knowing if she had said sothing wrong.
If she had said sothing wrong—would the Daddy who had finally co back leave her again?
In Chizuko's mind right now, there were two "Daddies."
One had already returned and was playing the piano with her; the other had made a promise but hadn't co back yet.
She naturally asked one "Daddy" why her Daddy hadn't co back—and she herself didn't feel any lapse in logic.
"Chizuko," Ming Po said softly. "Have you ever thought—"
"—that your Daddy has been here all along?
"The mannequin you're afraid of—that was your father's coat rack that you saw when you got up to use the bathroom late at night.
"And that person dressed as a doctor, that should be—the person who gave you so bad news.
"The shattered windows are the picture fras broken during argunts.
"Grabbing soone by the collar to throw them down, that's because you rember seeing your parents fighting like that.
"And the Russian nesting doll, that's the ring you hid—the catalyst that sparked your parents' disputes.
"Getting your fingers caught in the piano keys made you want a 'do-over'.
"These things you fear have all turned into monsters, becoming a part of this manor.
"—Then if we remove these things, what is the purpose of this manor's existence?"
These chanisms were all set up by Chizuko's subconscious.
It was also why Ming Po guessed that Chizuko's power required drawing out "fear" to activate. Because the style of this dungeon looked a bit too Silent Hill, he could even easily guess their prototypes.
Although Chizuko's mind wasn't that twisted, aning the monsters and chanisms weren't that terrifying—
But if we removed these things, why does this dungeon exist?
"The only thing you have no reason to hide,"
Ming Po murmured,
"Is the woman's hair hidden inside the piano. Your mother's hair.
"That wasn't a puzzle you left for us—but a puzzle your father left for you. The only puzzle in this dungeon that truly needed solving.
"He has been here all along. Waiting for you—to play it again, and the puzzle would be solved.
"But you—you never ca."
As Ming Po spoke in a low voice, his body suddenly felt lighter.
His control was lifted. Chizuko phased right through Ming Po—she transford into a teenage ghost, but instead of attacking him, she eagerly struck the piano keys.
Or rather, it was at this mont that she finally woke up, returning to her true self—instead of the seven- or eight-year-old little girl molded by her own illusions.
And on the other end of the bench, a man Manifested.
He was exactly the man in the photograph—Chizuko's father. He had waited here for a very, very long ti—yet his face was still beaming with a smile.
He nodded gratefully at Ming Po, then struck the keys.
Ming Po stood behind them, watching the father and daughter play their final duet, feeling a sense of lancholy and sorrow wash over him.
He felt that perhaps he wasn't quite as strong as he thought, either.
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