We walked toward the broken gate.
In front of us was what looked like an ancient palace courtyard.
Broken marble statues were scattered across the ground. Some had lost their heads, while others were missing arms. Old fountains stood nearby, filled with dark, stagnant water.
Vines wrapped around the stone figures as if they were alive.
Fragments of broken crowns were scattered everywhere.
It looked like a royal garden that had been destroyed long ago.
Something about it felt… wrong.
When I looked at the statues again, I had the strange feeling that one of the statues—
I was sure it had been facing the courtyard before—was now turned toward us.
"Mr. Zekai… what kind of place is this?" Aron asked quietly.
"I'm wondering the same thing."
The longer I looked, the heavier my chest became.
Not ruined—
unnatural.
Like something here didn't follow any rules at all.
At that moment, I felt warmth from both of my coat pockets.
I reached in and pulled the items out.
In one hand was the black-and-red card box Aron had returned earlier.
In the other was the black stone card.
Both were faintly glowing.
My brow tightened slightly, fingers pressing harder against the card.
"Aron… do these look like they're glowing to you?"
He leaned closer, one hand bracing against my shoulder as he squinted at the card.
"No. They look normal to me."
If only I could see it—
then whatever this was… it wasn't meant for him.
I handed him the stone card. Even in his hand, the glow didn't fade.
"Hold this for a while. I'll take it back later."
If something happened to me—
it was better if at least one of us wasn't directly connected to it.
"Okay." He took it reluctantly.
He examined it, turning it over in his hands as if it were just a piece of carved stone.
Meanwhile, I opened the black-and-red box.
Inside was a tarot deck.
The cards looked old. Each one had a deep red background with golden borders. The illustrations were etched in black and silver lines that shimmered purple faintly in the light.
I picked up the top card.
The moment my fingers touched it, a faint vibration passed through the deck.
It was subtle.
Almost like a pulse.
The image on the card didn't shift when I tilted it.
It didn't shift—
like it wasn't just a design.
It meant something.
Beneath the deck was a folded sheet of paper.
The paper crackled as I unfolded it—it felt old. Too old. But the ink was dark, as if it had never faded.
At the top, a heading was written:
[ CAUTION — RULES ]
The handwriting below it was uneven. Whoever wrote it had pressed hard enough to scar the paper itself.
These weren't instructions—
they were warnings.
Someone had written this after learning the consequences.
"Of course there are rules," I muttered.
The first line read:
[ User blood required for ritual ]
I let out a quiet sigh.
"...Why does everything need blood?"
I continued reading.
[ Rule 0: You were already chosen before you arrived ]
So even before I knew it—
something had already decided for me.
[ Rule 1: No Return ]
"Sounds like a seller's policy."
[ Rule 2: No Escape ]
"From what?"
Then—
[ Rule 3: Don't Fear ]
I stopped, exhaled slowly.
Something about that line felt different.
The ink was pressed deeper than the others.
"…Don't fear," I repeated.
That wasn't something you write unless fear had already killed someone before.
My fingers tightened around the paper without me noticing.
It didn't feel like a warning.
It felt like something someone had learned too late.
I moved on.
[ Rule 4: Be Impossible ]
I scoffed.
"Already doing that."
That's a demand.
[ Rule 5: Trust Your Instinct ]
"That's not a rule. That's laziness."
[ Rule 6: Formulate ]
"…Formulate what? A plan… or something else?"
At the bottom:
[ End of Rules — End ]
No explanation.
I stared at the page for a few seconds.
Then I looked back at the deck.
"…Yeah. That figures."
"Who even writes rules like this?" I muttered. "Like you're already trapped in it."
"No return. No escape."
"Great. Sounds like a terrible vacation."
Below the rules was another line.
[ The God Messenger ]
No explanation.
I frowned.
"Dramatic."
Another line followed:
[ Limit: Arcana user must pre-select a set number of cards each day. Once used, the cards fade and cannot be reused until rest. ]
I blinked.
"…Arcana?"
The word felt familiar—
like something I should remember, but couldn't.
I glanced at the tarot deck.
"So what… magic tricks? Symbols meant to scare people?"
Then I noticed it.
The bottom of the page had been torn away.
"…What?"
A part of the information was missing.
What had been written there?
And more importantly—
why was that part removed?
Aron stepped closer.
"Mr. Zekai, what are you reading?"
"Nothing. Just useless information."
I folded the paper once.
Then again.
My fingers paused for a moment before I slipped it back into my coat.
"Whatever this is… I'll deal with it when I have to."
We already had enough problems.
I wasn't about to believe in cursed cards on top of everything else.
I closed the box and slipped it back into my coat pocket.
Then—
The gate behind us slammed shut—
the impact tearing through the courtyard like a shockwave.
Like something had just locked us inside.
I turned immediately.
A low sound echoed through the courtyard.
Something had sealed us in.
"…Of course," I muttered.
My foot scraped against broken stone as I stepped inside, the sound echoing too loudly in the empty hall.
The inside of the palace was worse.
We stepped into a massive throne hall. The ceiling had partially collapsed, and dust floated constantly in the air.
Long red banners hung from the walls, torn and faded, swaying like ghosts whenever the wind passed through.
At the far end stood a giant throne.
Cracked in half.
Broken stained-glass windows scattered fragments of light across the floor.
"This place is getting worse the deeper we go," Aron said.
He wasn't wrong.
Every step forward made the air heavier.
At this point, I had no idea what would happen next.
Aron's grip tightened around the card.
"Mr. Zekai… I don't like this place."
And somehow—
I felt like things were only getting worse.
This place didn't want us here.
Then—
I froze.
A voice—
not from the room.
"Use the card…"
The sound didn't come from the room.
It came from inside my head.
I stopped mid-step—
my voice coming slower than usual.
"Aron," I said slowly, "do you hear anything?"
He looked at me, confused.
"No. I don't hear anything."
So it was only me.
Again.
The glow.
The card.
And now… the voice.
This wasn't random.
Trusting it would kill me.
Then the voice came again.
Clearer this time.
"Use it."
A pause.
"Or you die."
The words didn't echo.
They settled in.
It was a certainty.
But I felt it—this voice was coming from the card.
The voice didn't come from anywhere.
It sounded like it had always been there—waiting.
A crack echoed.
Aron turned slightly.
"Mr. Zekai… something behind us moved."
I exhaled slowly.
"…What a pain."
Death wasn't unfamiliar.
But this wasn't that.
It felt like the outcome had already been decided—
and I had just been told my role in it.
"Mr. Zekai… we should leave. Now."
Something shifted at the edge of my vision—
too fast to follow.
But it wasn't wind.
And this time—
I wasn't allowed to survive as a spectator.
End of Chapter 4 - The Rules