Chapter 627 - 49: Nightmare Monster

Chapter 627: Chapter 49: Nightmare Monster

’The more I tried just now, the larger the area of manifested details became. Isn’t that a sign of progress?’

’Since this is a form of training, it’s only natural that it consumes stamina.’

’Feeling tired and the weight of my surroundings growing heavier also seems normal—just like how after intense exercise, your body feels exhausted and sore, and everything feels heavy.’

That was what Mickey thought.

But he failed to notice that the feeling of heaviness was growing stronger and stronger.

The area of detail he could manifest was shrinking.

A moment ago, he could make an entire corner of the room clear; now, he could only restore color to a palm-sized patch.

He still assumed he was just tired.

At the same time, he felt something behind him slowly growing larger.

Like a shadow, it grew bigger and closer.

He still assumed he was just tired.

’Isn’t it normal to have hallucinations when you’re exhausted?’

A drop of water suddenly landed on his face.

The drop was ice-cold and uncomfortably moist, carrying a sticky, foul stench.

Mickey subconsciously wiped his face and looked down at his fingers—

Transparent, viscous, like...

’Saliva?’

He froze.

Then, he whipped his head around.

Behind him, his mother had, at some point, swelled to an immense size.

She was as large as a house, so big she nearly filled the entire room.

Her head pressed against the ceiling, her body squeezed between the walls. Her once-kind face was now twisted beyond recognition—her eyes were like two bottomless black holes, and her mouth was split open to her ears, revealing a row of densely packed, jagged teeth.

The drop from before had dripped from that enormous mouth.

His mother seemed to notice Mickey turning around and slowly lowered her head.

Her massive face drew closer and closer.

Those black-hole eyes stared fixedly at him.

"Mickey—"

Her voice had changed. It was still gentle and loving, but it came from an enormous mouth split open to the ears, revealing a row of densely packed, jagged teeth.

’How could that possibly sound gentle and loving to him!’

"Good boy, it’s time to return to your mother’s embrace."

As soon as she finished speaking, that massive mouth snapped open and chomped down on him!

"AHH—!"

Mickey’s scream tore through his throat.

He leaped up almost instinctively, scrambling and diving to the side.

CRUNCH!

His mother’s giant mouth bit down where he had just been standing. A huge chunk of the floor was torn away, sending splinters flying.

Mickey didn’t dare look back; he scrambled to his feet and ran.

"Stay away from me!"

He grabbed a cup from the coffee table and hurled it at his mother with all his might.

The cup passed through his mother’s body, hit the wall, and shattered into dust.

He grabbed a throw pillow from the sofa and threw it next.

The pillow passed through her as well.

’Useless!’

’It’s all useless!’

’These things, these objects that should have been his in this dream, were like phantoms now, completely unable to harm his mother in the slightest!’

All Mickey could do was run.

He rushed out of the living room, his mother chasing after him.

Her body was too large, so she moved slowly, but every step she took made the floor tremble.

She reached for Mickey. Her giant hand grazed his back, and the resulting gust of wind nearly knocked him over.

Mickey bolted into the bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him.

BANG!

His mother’s hand pierced straight through the wooden door as if it were made of paper.

Mickey screamed and fled out the other side, rushing back into the living room.

His mother turned and continued the chase.

The sofa was knocked over.

The coffee table was crushed underfoot.

A painting fell from the wall, its glass shattering across the floor.

The curtains were half-torn down, dangling from his mother’s arm and fluttering with her movements.

The entire house was reduced to a wreck during the chase between Mickey and his mother.

But Mickey had no time to worry about any of that.

All he knew was that he had to run.

He ran to the kitchen, only to be blocked and forced back.

He ran to the balcony, only to be blocked again.

He ran to the bathroom. The door was too small for his mother to enter, but she simply reached a hand inside and crushed the entire sink.

Mickey rushed out again.

As he was running for his life, a thought suddenly flashed through his mind.

’The door! The windows!’

’I have to get out!’

’Escape to the street, to where there are people, escape this enclosed space!’

Mickey froze.

’That’s right, why did I only think of that now?’

’All this time, why hadn’t I even considered escaping?’

’It was as if... as if something had deliberately made me forget.’

And what was strange was that his mother was clearly able to block the kitchen, the bedroom, and the bathroom—if she could really block all the exits, then how had he managed to escape from those places?

And then there were the objects—the throw pillow, the cup—they passed right through his mother’s body as if it were thin air.

’But why could her hand crush the sink?’

’It doesn’t make sense.’

’Nothing in this dream makes sense.’

But there was no time to think about it anymore.

His mother was approaching from the living room, her enormous body almost completely blocking the space.

’He didn’t want to find out what would happen if his mother caught him.’

’The window? No, his mother is in that direction.’

’The door!’

’Only the door!’

Mickey gritted his teeth, grabbed a chair, and threw it at his mother with all his strength.

The chair hit his mother’s face but still passed through her body, causing no damage whatsoever.

But at the very least, it made her pause for a moment.

’That one moment was enough!’

Mickey sprinted toward the front door with everything he had.

’The door!’

’That familiar door, the one leading to the outside world!’

His hand grasped the doorknob—

And then, his hand passed right through it.

Like passing through air, through a phantom, through a non-existent void.

Mickey froze.

He looked down at his hand, then at the gray, blurry doorknob.

His hand was still there.

The doorknob was still there.

But they couldn’t touch.

It was as if they existed in two different worlds.

Mickey’s mind raced.

’Details!’

’Yes! The details!’

’Only by manifesting the details of the door can I open it!’

’Just like before, only by manifesting the details of the cake could I see the cake clearly.’

’Only by manifesting the details of the turkey could I see the turkey!’

He took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down.

Then, he focused all of his attention on the doorknob.

The gray mist began to slowly dissipate.

The outline of the doorknob sharpened—it was made of silver metal, with fine scratches on its surface, marks from five years of use.

Finally, the doorknob became real.

Mickey grabbed it and twisted hard.

CLICK.

The doorknob turned.

Overjoyed, Mickey pulled with all his might—

The door didn’t budge.

’What’s happening?’

Mickey was stunned.

He pulled again, but the door still wouldn’t open.

’The doorknob works, but the door won’t open?’

’Why?’

’Why!’

Then, he suddenly understood.

’It’s the door!’

’The details of the door itself haven’t been manifested!’

’I only manifested the doorknob, but the door is still just a gray, blurry phantom!’

’How could a gray, blurry door possibly open?’

Mickey looked back.

His mother was slowly closing in.

Her steps were slow and heavy, each one carrying an earth-shaking tremor.

Her enormous face looked down on him, viscous saliva drooling from the corners of her mouth. Each drop that hit the floor corroded it, leaving a smoking pit.

"Mickey—"

The gentle, loving voice rang out again.

"Good boy, it’s time to return to your mother’s embrace."

Mickey’s body began to tremble.

He looked at the door again.

’To manifest the entire door—how much energy would that take?’

’Even when I was at my best, I couldn’t manifest details over such a large area.’

’Now I’m so tired I can barely stand. How could I possibly do it?’

’It’s over.’

’It’s completely over this time.’

Mickey leaned against the door, his legs weak.

He watched his mother draw closer, watched her open that giant mouth that stretched from the ceiling to the floor, watched the bottomless, dark abyss within.

He closed his eyes.

’There’s no escape.’

’So be it.’

’It’s just a dream, anyway, right?’

’If I die, I’ll wake up, right?’

’I... should, right?’

The instant he closed his eyes—

The doorknob behind him suddenly turned.

He wasn’t turning it; the doorknob was moving on its own.

Mickey felt the support behind him suddenly vanish, and he fell backward.

At the same time, an unfamiliar male voice sounded from behind him.

"Rodrick, are you sure the monster from the Nightmare World is in here?"