The Outer God Needs Warmth

Chapter 23

Evening: Hyungkeshni’s Return

As evening fell, Hyungkeshni returned, carrying an assortment of undergarments. Who knows where she gathered them from?

Of course, I recognized most of them. After all, how many lights have I licked in this world? It’s impossible for me not to know.

I tried on the various undergarments she brought, but unfortunately, most didn’t fit properly.

After trying several, the tightness around my chest made me uncomfortable. Hyungkeshni, after glancing down at her own chest and letting out a small sigh, approached me and touched the white dress I was wearing.

She fiddled with it for a moment, lightly tugging at the hem and even pulling a thread loose with her nail, before asking me a question.

“Can’t you make your own clothes like this dress?”

Ah, right. That option does exist. After all, the dress I’m wearing now is something I made.

I set down the undergarments and pushed myself inward.

Cracks formed across my skin, revealing a black void beneath as tendrils of dark purple mist began to seep out. I had avoided meddling with this too recklessly before, but this situation felt different.

I extended my finger into the mist, testing it. But it didn’t go all the way in—instead, I felt the sensation of flesh.

It seems the cracks aren’t literal after all.

Still, isn’t it a bit much for Hyungkeshni to demand that I try this and then bolt away the moment the mist starts seeping out?

She could learn a thing or two from Joanna, who sat nearby, calmly observing.

Joanna, sitting unbothered nearby, served as a stark contrast. Inspired by her composure, I refocused my efforts on creating the clothing.

But instead of forming garments, the mist simply swirled lazily in the air.

Am I doing this wrong?

I grabbed one of the undergarments in my hand. How had I made the dress I’m currently wearing? I recalled it from memory. That’s the key—it’s not about the tangible item in front of me.

I needed to focus on a different element.

Not what I was creating, but how I had made it appear.

Yes.

I’m now wearing undergarments perfectly adjusted to my size. Of course, the ones I was holding in my hands remained unchanged.

I figured it out. It’s not about creating something new. The mist doesn’t generate objects—it alters the world to make things appear as though they were always there.

The world changes to accommodate what I expect to exist.

Should I try something else now?

For instance, there’s an item I haven’t held in a long time but feel I shouldn’t be without.

I declared that my phone was in my hand.

Crack.

The sound of shattering glass echoed as black fissures spread across my palm.

“What are you doing?!”

Hyungkeshni shouted from a distance. Her body absorbed a bluish light, and a transparent barrier formed around her.

A protective shield?

Hyungkeshni can do as she pleases, but I was more disappointed that I couldn’t grasp the phone in my hand. I felt so close to achieving it.

So very close.

Crack.

No, I can almost touch it.

But the harder I try, the larger the cracks on the void above my palm grow, as if they’re unable to bear the weight of my efforts. At this rate, the space itself might shatter, like glass struck by a heavy stone.

What a pity.

If I can’t hold it, I have to let it go.

As I relaxed my grip, the black lines spreading outward from my palm gradually healed, vanishing as though they had never existed.

In the end, the cracks disappeared entirely, leaving nothing in my hand.

Perhaps it’s impossible to create complex objects—or maybe it’s just that objects from another world can’t exist here. Either way, it’s clear I shouldn’t attempt this recklessly.

While the cracks on the surface are gone, I can sense through an indescribable awareness that the area remains fragile.

So does that mean every atheist is a god?

The question hovered on the tip of my tongue, but I swallowed it. It’s best not to speak as though I’m wise, especially not yet.

But Outer God, huh.

I understand the meaning behind the term.

They’re not referring to some eldritch deity of madness from a fake mythology. Judging by the nuance, it’s closer to the term alien. And no, I’m not an Englishman in New York.

The word alien simply means outsider.

In that sense, there’s nothing I can dispute. It’s a term that conveys the intent to reject me perpetually, and while that’s bothersome, the fact remains—I am an outsider.

“Or is there a reason you reject being called a god?”

Her question made me pause.

Why do I feel such an urge to deny it?

I still...

don’t fully...

know.

Yes. In that case, I have no reason.

“There’s no reason.”

“Then we’ll call you that. The nameless Outer God.”

So that’s how it’s going to be.

Still, it’s better than being called Krssaksshibal, which sounds like a curse word.

I can faintly sense their reasoning.

“Do you dislike being called Rebecca Rolf?”

“That’s the name of the body you inhabit. For now, we’re calling you Rebecca, but it’s a human name, after all.”

Fair enough. It’s the name of the girl who was abducted by the Future Hope Sect and met an untimely end.

The name belongs to the body I’m using, not to me.

Fine. If that’s how it is.

If they insist.

I’ll accept the name Outer God.

“Yes, that’s fine. From now on, use that term to refer to me, Hyungkeshni.”

Hyungkeshni blinked at me, then cautiously backed away, her face plastered with a smile.

In other words, a face filled with fear.

Of course, I have no intention of spreading madness to others, nor do I plan to adopt descriptors like indescribable or unnameable.

Honestly, I wouldn’t even know how to go about doing such things. I’m not particularly clever.

My logic is quite simple.

I need warmth.

“So, Hyungkeshni, do you have any requests for the Outer God standing before you?”

After all, isn’t that what gods are for? To ask for something? If not, no matter how strong they are, they’d simply be called monsters.

But Hyungkeshni shook her head.

Hmph.

Fine. An opportunity lost.

Perhaps I should turn to Joanna, who’s conveniently nearby?

“What about you, Joanna? If I were a god, what would you wish for?”

Joanna pondered for a moment before making her wish.

“Please eat more. You’re eating far too little these days.”

Oh. That?

Hmm. Hmm. Hmmmmm.

“I... I’ll try.”

Eating too much makes me uncomfortable, though...

Joanna, satisfied with my response, nodded with a content expression. Hyungkeshni, meanwhile, stared at her blankly, as though in disbelief. I pretended not to notice—it annoyed me.

Calling me an Outer God. How could they say something so rude!