The Fool's Time

∞

In that split second, what flashed through my mind wasn't my life flashing before my eyes, but the make-up exam notice for the Advanced Mathematics class I failed in my sophomore year.

It's over. I'm officially cooked this time. Not only did I piss off Death itself, now it comes with a complimentary three-headed hellhound—are they that worried my ashes won't be scattered evenly enough?!

Watching those three bloodthirsty maws lunge at me on a gust of foul wind, I instinctively squeezed my eyes shut, clutching the white rose and wooden staff tightly against my chest while screaming like crazy in my head: Old man! Save me! It's New Year's, leave your grandson a way out!

The bone-crushing impact I braced for never came.

Instead, a deeply muffled roar exploded by my ears, immediately followed by the deafening crash of tearing flesh and churning waves.

Trembling, I cracked one eye open—and the sight in front of me nearly made my jaw drop to the floor.

That white dog, which usually looked completely harmless, had ballooned to several times its normal size. Behind it, the solidified, colossal shadow of the three-headed black hound lunged forward with a thunderous boom. Two of its heads clamped their jaws viciously onto the monstrous sea of blood surging in from behind, while the middle head snapped onto the hem of my pants down by my leg, yanking me a good three meters backward—narrowly dodging the full frontal impact of the blood tsunami!

?

Wait, so you weren't here to eat me—you're here to be my bodyguard?!

A jolt ran through my brain, instantly connecting the verse from Chapter One with every single detail along the way—

"A white dog runs at his feet, barking warnings with every step."

This white dog was never a monster to begin with! The reason it cast the shadow of a three-headed black hound was that its duty all along was to serve as the gatekeeper guarding this proving ground! When it barked frantically and anxiously at me earlier, it wasn't trying to bite me—it was warning me not to touch the Death rock's red feather! And now, after I stumbled into taking the white rose and triggered Death's berserk rampage, it actually stepped up to shield me from the lethal sea of blood!

"Could've told me sooner, Yeller! You nearly scared me into paying my tuition with my life on the spot!"

I wiped the cold sweat from my forehead. Watching the three-headed black hound phantom straining desperately against the sea of blood, I knew it couldn't hold out much longer.

Looking back, the path I came from was completely submerged in b****y water—zero way back—while the edge of the precipice behind me was shrouded in thick fog.

I glanced down at the quartz watch on my left wrist. The hands were spinning backward like crazy toward the very end; the date had jumped straight from "6" to "0", the hour hand was pressed dead against the bottom mark, and the final clear countdown was down to single-digit seconds!

Time was up!

"ROAR—!!" The Death rock's roar was ear-splitting as that sea of blood morphed into countless slimy tentacles, whipping down toward me from across the sky. Yeller (let's just call him that for now) let out a whimper as one of the heads on the three-headed phantom behind him was violently shattered by the impact.

Pinned from both sides, with no way up to heaven and no door down to earth!

In the depths of despair, the verse I first saw upon entering the instance suddenly echoed in my mind:

[A traveler in motley stands atop the cliff's edge, gazing up at the sky's light.]

[An abyss yawns before him, yet his steps are light, unafraid of the vast unknown ahead.]

[The world laughs at his folly, unaware that he is the very beginning of all journeys—pure of heart, marching toward the unknown without looking back.]

...

Looking at the wooden staff and the bottomless bundle in my hand, and the faintly glowing pure white rose cradled in my palm, I took another glance at Yeller—fierce as hell, yet clearly protecting me—and suddenly, it all clicked.

Fuck "Infinite difficulty," and f**k "Rules Creepypasta." The clear code for [0 · The Fool] was never about brawling head-on with monsters, nor was it about exploiting bugs like a shady merchant. It was—

Trusting the unknown, letting go of fear, and taking the leap like a true "Fool"!

"I can't believe I'm actually buying into your bullshit!"

Watching the sea of blood come crashing down right over my head as Yeller let out a mournful cry and got knocked flying, I had nowhere left to retreat. My heels were already hanging over the loose gravel at the cliff's edge.

In that final split second as the watch hands hit zero, I didn't hesitate for a heartbeat. Raising the white rose high above my head with my left hand and gripping the wooden staff tight with my right, I faced the churning abyssal fog ahead and let out a roar that was equal parts desperate and exhilarating:

"If I still don't pass my make-up exam next year, I'm coming back even as ashes to flip your damn table—!!"

I took the leap.

Howling gales whipped past my ears, and a wave of weightlessness swallowed me whole like a rising tide.

Everywhere I looked, the sea of blood, the forest, and the bluestone altar were violently shattering to pieces, dissolving into countless shimmering shards of glazed glass.

With a crisp "click" from the quartz watch on my wrist, the hands hit zero for good.

...

"What time is it?! Why aren't you up yet?!"

"Nag, nag, nag. All you ever do first thing in the morning is yell at me to get up. Can't a guy just sleep in a little longer?"

My eyes snapped wide open. Blinding sunlight streamed through the gap in the curtains onto my face—the familiar bedroom ceiling, the walls plastered with game posters, the chair buried under dirty laundry...

I gasped for air in huge, ragged breaths, drenched head to toe in sweat as if I'd just been fished out of the water.

Looking down, that once-missing quartz watch sat quietly on my left wrist. The strap was completely intact, the date sat squarely on the morning of Lunar New Year's Day, and the second hand was ticking away steadily—tick, tock, tick, tock.

Could everything that just happened really have been nothing more than a hyper-realistic nightmare?

Still a bit dazed, I threw back the blanket to get out of bed. The exact instant my feet touched the floor, my right ankle seemed to step on something firm and cool.

I bent down and picked it up.

It was a petal from a pure white rose—dotted with light morning dew, cool and undeniably real to the touch, giving off a faint, crisp fragrance.

At the exact same moment, the screen of my phone resting on the desk suddenly lit up.

That paranormal forum—the one that had lost connection and popped up the Infinite-flow instance prompts—had actually pushed a second DM. The sender was still that mysterious blank avatar, and inside was just one short line:

[The journey has only just begun, esteemed Mr. Fool.]

I looked at the petal in my hand, then back at the phone screen, the corner of my mouth twitching uncontrollably.

Alright then. Looks like there's zero chance I'm getting any peace and quiet this winter break.