I'm Not a Possessed Individual
Since the dawn of history, has there ever been a time when the formation of a first-floor party at the Adventurers' Guild was this noisy?
Bernard, the lizard paladin who had come to the guild heavily armed with outstanding equipment, strength, and holy magic, felt that things were starting to go in a strange direction.
"That can't be…"
"An exit room appearing inside an exit room…"
"I remember it. Some third-rate party got attacked, and Back Attack ran straight into the gate."
"Were you the one who made it out alive back then, monk?"
Thanks to the monk's emotional storytelling, the entire atmosphere of the venue ended up revolving around Back Attack and his tragic story!
"Caleb! Pick the monk! You have to give him a chance to correct his mistake!"
The overly emotional swordsman Hijikata shouted.
"If the pay works out, how about letting him join us just for retrieving Back Attack's soul? On a human level."
Virtanen also coughed lightly and threw his support behind the monk.
Oh!
This is not right.
Bernard flicked his tongue over his eyeballs.
"To dare muddy a sacred financial transaction and contract with emotions…"
If Nathaniel were to see this, he would be furious!
"Let him take the interview!"
Bernard shouted.
A paladin of Nathaniel does not circumvent this kind of challenge.
He will face it head-on—in a proper interview duel.
And Bernard will definitely win.
Why?
Because that monk was dead weight from a one-trick Back Attack party.
He couldn't even pull his own weight there and ended up dissolving the party—there's no way he belongs here.
And while the monk is a close-combat specialist and technically fits the frontline role Caleb is looking for, his nature is different.
Monks are agile—but weak in raw strength.
"Lift the oak barrel first!"
The test itself is poison to a monk.
"You destroyed the oak barrel yourself…!"
Hijikata shouted irritably.
"Then how about lifting me instead?"
Virtanen puffed out his muscle-packed chest.
"Without armor, my weight's about the same as an oak barrel you'd find in a tavern."
"Then take off your armor—"
"It's fine."
The monk strode forward, grabbed Virtanen by the belt and shoulder guard, and lifted him like a weightlifter.
"Whoa!"
"I'm slow, but I'm stupidly strong."
"What the hell is that…?"
"Why is a monk that strong?"
"Look at those arms!"
"What kind of monk has monstrous strength…?"
The adventurers murmured all around.
It was true—Aimus Renic was a hopeless monk who struggled even on the first floor.
He lacked basic monk passives like Mystic Evasion, and didn't have barrage-type attacks like Iron Migratory Fist.
Because—
He was too slow.
He had encountered fountains many times on the first floor, but Renic never received the same skill blessings as other monks.
He simply wasn't qualified.
The adventurers who knew him called him this:
A strength-only monk.
I squeezed my eyes shut.
"Caleb! Now you just have to choose one!"
Be quiet, dwarf. Let me think.
Escaping immediately with Virtanen at the Venomic Spider exit room vs. Yernil.
This was the biggest decision trial I'd faced since then.
This is seriously not easy.
A slightly unhinged lizard paladin, or a mid-forties strength monk.
Today's final match of the Tanker Ideal Type World Cup.
A true golden balance.
Both have things that are slightly lacking. From my perspective, the strength monk is obviously better than the paladin—but unfortunately, the paladin is younger.
And mentally, the paladin seems more suited to the frontline.
Can that forty-something monk really step up and tank bravely?
If this were a game, I could just put him in front and be done with it.
But now that it's reality, I have to consider personality and age too.
I don't know how many more years I'll be running labyrinths here.
From the looks of it, the monk is already married and has kids.
What if he gets older, his family stops him, and he bails?
If that happens, knocking on the paladin's armor later probably won't work—he'd be offended and refuse.
This really feels like interviewing job applicants.
Hmm.
In times like this, price negotiation is king.
"You two—what split do you want?"
"As a paladin of the Order, I swear on my honor that I will not desire more than 25%.
I swear this to Nathaniel, god of contracts and financial transactions."
The lizard said confidently.
Then the monk replied.
"I don't need any."
"Monk, you're hired!"
"Blasphemy!"
When I raised the monk's hand, the lizard went into convulsions of outrage.
"Zero percent?! Such a settlement ratio cannot exist!
Blasphemy! Blasphemy!
How can someone work without money?!"
Ah. That's called a passion wage, lizard.
Of course, I don't actually plan to work him completely for free.
"I'll provide your equipment instead."
A strength monk wearing leather ascetic armor and using fist weapons?
Good grief. That's exactly why you struggled on the first floor.
It's like Yernil trying to tank with a sword and shield.
"Wait!"
The lizard clearly couldn't accept this outcome.
"This is absolutely unacceptable. As a paladin of Nathaniel, I say this hiring result is tainted!
This was not a decision based on thorough calculation and rational judgment!"
It was chosen through calculation and rational judgment.
Still, I understand why the lizard finds it hard to accept.
"He's just stupidly strong but dull, incapable of using a single proper monk skill—and you hire that? Anyone can see he's trash!"
That was harsh—but no one could refute it.
"Because you don't have to pay him? Because you pity him for knowing Back Attack?
Don't make me laugh!
Don't even dream of committing blasphemy in front of me!
This hiring was supposed to be a fair meritocratic contest!"
The lizard shouted, pointing his mace.
"I'm the party leader. I make the choice."
"…That's true, but…"
The lizard, unable to calm down, continued angrily.
"If we're going to move as one party anyway, we should test skill and magic compatibility!
Show me your magic!
If you can defeat me, I'll accept this result as Nathaniel's will!
But I will never fall—Nathaniel's wrath stands with me!
Nathaniel! Grant me strength!"
What a talkative lizard.
Still, he's not wrong about showing magic.
The timing isn't bad either.
Maybe I'll show just a little bit of magic now.
For the sake of teamwork—and because Yernil still hasn't seen it yet.
"Tropical…"
I pointed my wand and began the incantation.
"Heatwave."
"Guardian's Shield!"
Bernard blinked as he layered a shield barrier over himself.
That won't block it.
Did he think it was a projectile spell like Fireball?
"Huh…?"
Of course he'd feel dizzy.
His breathing would be forcibly constricted, his head spinning.
That's heatstroke.
Cold-blooded species.
The gate would open in eight days.
At that time, I would enter with three companions: Aimus Renic, Yernil, and even Back Attack.
This time, we were fully prepared.
It was nothing like the slave-team days, when we were thrown into the labyrinth practically naked.
Of course, once we actually enter, there's no telling what will happen.
A soul's resting place is never that easy.
And considering that Back Attack emerged as a roaming boss on the first floor, this labyrinth is more irregular than the one I experienced in the game.
But worrying about that now won't give me any answers.
There's something I need to deal with first.
"Renic, you can head out now. Practice what I mentioned earlier.
Yernil, go back to the dorm with Back Attack."
"What about you, Caleb?"
"I'm stopping by the magic university for a bit."
What's the greatest threat currently tightening around my neck?
The magic university itself.
If there really is some kind of possessed-person cartel inside the university, then I'm effectively deep inside a tiger's den right now.
And they're probably almost 100% certain that I'm possessed.
They're watching my every move.
So what options do I have?
First option:
Come out as possessed to 'possessed-friendly' factions like Professor Dalstream or Ishirov, and place myself under their protection.
Is that viable?
No.
It should be rejected immediately.
Entrusting my life to others when I'm still too weak to protect myself? That's insanity.
I don't even fully understand the balance of power or political maneuvering among the professors yet.
And the biggest problem—
I don't know which of them are possessed.
They don't reveal themselves, but I reveal myself first?
You can call that madness.
Then the second option.
Prove that I am not possessed.
Remove the excessive scrutiny focused on me and sink beneath the surface.
Not a ticking time bomb of a possessed individual—
just an absurdly talented genius mage.
Someone everyone can be friendly toward: Meldini, Ishirov, or whatever possessed mage cartel might be hiding behind them.
A promising new genius with no risk of causing a labyrinth eruption, yet immensely useful to everyone.
That's the image I need to create.
Is it possible?
Yes.
"Caleb."
As I entered the university's main building, Professor Meldini the halfling was standing there with a terrifying expression.
You bit the bait, Meldini.
I'd deliberately provoked you over the past few days, acting without restraint.
In front of Professor Dalstream, I openly submitted unfamiliar magic one after another—and succeeded in binding them.
At the Adventurers' Guild, I even unveiled a brand-new spell called Heatwave.
I willingly accepted Ishirov's difficult quest and dragged undead Back Attack into the guild, stirring the entire city into an uproar.
On the way here, I could hear people gossiping everywhere.
Nearly twenty applicants and they all got rejected.
Even Bernard got rejected.
They picked some monk—just stupidly strong but slow.
Bernard got knocked out in one hit by magic.
Even Hijikata, a third-floor adventurer, failed the interview.
…Rumors like that were flying around.
Though to be fair, Hijikata's case felt a bit different from a simple rejection.
"Let's talk for a moment."
Meldini's hands were trembling with indignation and tension.
How dare a possessed individual run wild this openly in front of me…
That was the look in his eyes.
It was lunchtime.
Graduate assistants and professors were pouring out of labs to eat.
The lobby was crowded.
"So, it seems you succeeded in binding magic.
What kind of spell was it?"
Meldini began interrogating me.
Sensing the tension, other professors stopped and glanced over.
"The one I used at the Adventurers' Guild?"
"Yes."
"It's a spell called Heatwave.
I bound humidification and heat wind."
"Caleb. Magical binding isn't something you accomplish just by vaguely guessing,
'If I increase humidity and add heat, I'll create extreme heat and suppress the target.'
Far more attempts like that fail.
You must have been extraordinarily lucky."
"..."
"And why did you add the spell called Tan Jin?"
"When a volcano erupts, volcanic ash acts as condensation nuclei, capturing moisture rising on updrafts and forming clouds.
I thought I could replicate that phenomenon with magic."
"So you stored those spells in a memory book, and then the god of wisdom granted you a binding spell?"
"Yes."
"What?!"
The halfling professor's face went pale.
At his raised voice, other professors and senior mages began gathering.
"Then…
Are you saying you bound three first-tier spells into two second-tier spells?"
His speech shifted from honorifics to blunt speech.
"No.
I bound three."
"Th-three…?"
Without exaggeration—
Meldini ground his teeth audibly.
"You bound three…?
Two pairs and a triple?"
"The first pair is Heatwave, from humidification and heat wind.
The second pair is Dust Explosion, from heat wind and Tan Jin.
The triple bind is a spell called Cumulonimbus."
"Hey—!"
The halfling suddenly shouted.
"Do you think we're fools?!"
He's rougher than I expected.
That labyrinth eruption twelve years ago must have left you with a deep scar.
"How could this be possible unless the god of wisdom personally blessed you?!
Huh?!
Is this something you can achieve with mere logical reasoning?!"
"..."
"Hm."
Professor Dalstream, who had been quietly observing, chuckled.
"Perhaps he truly was blessed by the god of wisdom?"
"Don't be ridiculous, Professor!"
Meldini snapped, no longer even polite to a senior professor.
"Achieving a single magical binding is enough to publish a paper!
But you're telling me he picked three first-tier spells and bound three times?!"
"Meldini!"
Ishirov rushed over in alarm, his face stiff as he sensed something had gone wrong.
"Professor Meldini! What do you think you're doing?! Right now—"
"Stay out of this!"
He shoved Ishirov aside and drew his wand.
"Caleb.
I need to cast a lie-detection spell on you."
"..."
"Prove that you are not possessed!"
"Meldini!"
Ishirov shouted angrily.
"This is unbecoming of a mage! What incredible rudeness!
Caleb is a free citizen!"
"A free citizen? Don't make me laugh!"
Meldini roared.
"Under the laws of the labyrinth city Sohen, otherworldly possessed individuals are not protected as free citizens!"
"..."
"Caleb!"
The halfling strode toward me.
"If you are truly innocent, prove it here.
If you are not possessed, I will apologize properly and compensate you accordingly.
But—"
He aimed his wand at my forehead.
"If you are possessed, I will kill you here.
Of course, I will be punished.
But it will not be murder!
Why? Because you are not a resident of this world!"
"..."
"I will accept punishment for abusing lie-detection magic!
I don't care!
If that sacrifice lets me eliminate a bomb that could threaten this city in the future!"
"Meldini!"
Ishirov rushed in and violently knocked Meldini's wand aside.
Now Ishirov, too, had drawn his wand and was aiming it at Meldini.
"He is a student in my club.
Commit that kind of rudeness one more time, and I will settle this with you here and now—"
"Do it."
I said calmly.
"…What?"
Both professors stared at me with wide eyes.
"Cast the lie-detection spell.
On me."
All the supporting cast was assembled.
The professors were all gathered.
If you're going to put on a show, do it big—burn it clearly into as many minds as possible.
And while I'm at it, I should observe their expressions.
"C-cast the spell…?"
The halfling ground his teeth.
"Yes, Professor Meldini.
You did the same thing to me at the slave administration department, didn't you?
While the lie-detection spell was still on me, you used the opening to probe me by bringing up my personal history."
"…."
"Suspecting people like that, watching them nonstop!
Stop humiliating me and just cast the spell already!"
"Lie… detection magic."
Magic erupted from the tip of the enraged halfling's wand.
"Caleb!"
Ishirov shouted.
"Resist it! Think about rejecting the spell!
Lie-detection magic is easy to resist! Shake it off!"
So Ishirov was convinced too that I was a possessed individual.
Now, I sink beneath the surface.
"Professor Meldini!"
I shouted at the top of my lungs.
"Why are you doing this to me in the first place?
You already decided on the answer—so why even ask?
Isn't this what you want to hear?
Should I say it for you?"
So everyone could hear—
I raised my voice and shouted.
"I AM!"
"I am an otherworldly possessed individual!"
Silence.
As if a wide-area stun debuff had been cast, everyone froze in place.
"Is that enough?"
Professor Meldini's trembling hand and the tip of his wand shook violently.
Up and down.
Then stopped.
[It is your turn. Remaining time: 60 seconds]
[Action points: ■■■■]
Because I flipped the hourglass.
Now—let's look at faces.
People like Ishirov, who went "Gasp!"—circle them.
They're the ones who would want to protect me even if I were possessed.
People like Meldini, whose faces screamed "You're dead now, bastard"—triangle.
They're the ones who would leave me alone if I proved I wasn't possessed.
If there really is a possessed-mage cartel inside the magic university,
what kind of expressions would they be wearing right now?
Probably one of two.
"Ah, that idiot snapped.
What a waste—I was thinking of recruiting him if he turned out useful."
Or—
"Our cartel's already full.
Poor bastard.
We were wondering how to deal with him anyway—nice of him to self-destruct."
Let's see who's wearing those faces.
Of course, this isn't enough for certainty—but I can sketch a rough outline.
First, Elder Professor Dalstream.
Hmm.
No idea.
That old man looks like he doesn't even have expressions.
Is he a gambler or something?
Other professors.
Teaching assistants.
I check as many as I can.
Rash judgments become prejudices that dull analysis,
so I stay as conservative as possible.
Professor Enver.
Not as much to harvest as I hoped—but that one guy is suspicious.
Because he looks… excited.
Like—
Wow, things were getting boring and now this is peak entertainment!
I gotta go tell the cartel seniors about this!
He's practically giggling.
That one—I'll mark and watch.
[It is your turn. Remaining time: 11 seconds]
Time to wrap this up.
"Professor Meldini."
It's true that I was lure-fishing you,
but there's no personal grudge behind this.
I believe you're just another citizen trying to protect this city and the university.
"I'm sorry."
Seven seconds left.
Now, I layer in one small, adorable lie.
"Labyrinth of the Abyss is the greatest game of my life—
a god-tier masterpiece that deserves Game of the Year for a hundred straight years!
Playing that game was the greatest fortune of my life, damn it!
Everyone! Play Labyrinth of the Abyss!"
[Ending turn.]
[The hourglass has been flipped again. Cooldown: 60 seconds]
A rash spreads across my skin.
My entire body burns like an allergic reaction.
"Khk…!"
My breathing grew ragged.
Tears, snot, and saliva poured out uncontrollably.
Because I lied while under a lie-detection spell.
"Uh… ugh…!"
"Caleb!"
As everyone stared in shock, Ishirov caught me and held me up.
Let's check Meldini's face.
Hmm.
The face of a vile mage professor who illegally cast lie-detection magic on an innocent genius freshman,
pressed him until a hot-blooded student snapped and screamed
"This is what you want to hear, right? I'm a possessed individual! Satisfied?!"—
and then watched him collapse in a seizure—
Meldini staggered backward, trembling far beyond what he'd imagined.
It's a little pitiful.
I'm sorry, Professor.
But you started it.
"Hh—hh—!"
And this damn spell.
The backlash is worse than I expected.
My whole body itches and burns like hell.
Still—you all took the hit, didn't you?
"…!"
Professor Enver—the suspicious one I marked earlier—looks utterly shaken now.
You were grinning just a moment ago, you bastard.
Serves you right.
You were convinced I was possessed, spreading your surveillance net, watching me closely, weren't you?
And now you're panicking because I'm not?
Ever seen a wuxia protagonist caught in a perfect net?
I slip out.
You can't make a false statement true—
but with the king-god-hourglass, you can make a true statement appear false.
I made "I am a possessed individual" register as a lie.
I won't be caught.
I won't be exposed.
I'll be the one grabbing you from behind first.
Whether it's negotiation or combat,
securing the advantageous position first is essential to clearing this garbage game.
"What are you standing around for?! Get him inside—now!"
Hearing Ishirov's shout, I lost consciousness.