Reincarnated Cthulhu

Frank’s Fools. 

Here, I would like to make a remark that may be slightly sensitive to the readers in my brain.

I dare confess, that I hate the Cthulhu myth. 

And I believe that perhaps many people who enjoy various creations in the 21st century have similar thoughts to mine. 

In fact, I’ve read Lovecraft’s novels in my previous life.

It’s not like I’ve read all the works related to Cthulhu, but I’ve read most of the famous works, and some of them even before they got translated into the Korean language, the language of the place I lived in my previous life.

I even showed respect to the classic, which was the inspiration for numerous creations. 

However, it has been a problem since the creators’ comments piled up and became explosively famous at some point. 

Mythical beings, which were fine in their own right, suddenly popped up and became chess pieces or characters in video games; there were even creations that had nothing to do with the Cthulhu mythos.

They popped up for no reason! As if the creator said it should be!

The fictional gods, who had been feared for some time, became a measuring instrument for the fighting power of fantasy battles. 

That’s why I hated the Cthulhu mythos.

I enjoyed Lovecraft’s unique sensitivity and imagination, but its fantasy interpretation was still out of my interest. 

Oh yeah. 

That didn’t mean I wanted to be part of an orthodox Cthulhu novel, though.

“Khlûl′-hloo” 

Arthur recited after what I had just said.  

“Ktulu, that’s strange. I don’t even know how to pronounce it. It’s funny. Is that how you feel?” 

Arthur, who regained his happy expression as if the fury a moment ago was a lie, asked. 

The reason he confused pronunciation was purely a matter of my pronunciation. 

Facing the concept that existed only in my previous life, I inadvertently cut off the syllables and pronounced them as if I was speaking Korean, and Arthur did not miss that point. 

“Maybe…. Do you know what this statue was depicting.?” 

I cursed my stupidity for a moment.

For the past 40 years, I have been thoroughly hiding the fact that I am a reincarnated person.

There were four good reasons for that. 

First, because I was afraid of being treated like a madman in London and entering a mental hospital, where they will drill a hole in my head. 

Literally, they will drill a hole and take out the brain. 

If you had ever seen that surgery scene, you’re bound to be careful with your mouth in London.

Second, because there is nothing good about saying it. I don’t want to humiliate my second hometown, but London is a heartless city. Good Fame or Bad Fame, everything will eventually become poison and come back to sting you. 

Third, because I’m not even sure I’m really from the future.  

I don’t know much about history, but I know a few facts. 

Darwin, who should have died in 1895, was alive and well, and Amundsen, who had just completed his military service, was already traveling in the Antarctic Ocean. 

The long-awaited fourth reason. 

I stared at the opponent in front of me.

The fourth reason grinned, touching the statue’s head. 

Yeah, I really didn’t want to get caught by this guy.  

“I don’t remember well. I’m sure I’ve seen it overseas. I’ve been to a lot of places.”

“Oh, good. This thing happened to be from abroad.” 

Arthur admired my clumsy reason with a delighted look. 

“It’s what my father found on the dark continent more than half a century ago. With passion he decided to unravel it and searched his whole life.” 

I clenched my fists inwardly.

All right, I’m safe. 

If it’s a dark continent, I’m familiar with it. 

I was confident enough to deceive a native Englishman like Arthur, who never stepped out of England. 

“Yeah, I think it was the Dark Continent.” 

“My father left it to an explorer to find out where it came from. Since his intention to cross the Dark Continent coincided, he gladly accepted my father’s support and he came crossing the Dark Continent.” 

As Arthur’s story continued, anxiety slowly engulfed one side of my mind. 

The source of anxiety was clear. 

As explained earlier, the Dark Continent was an unknown area in the 19th century. 

It was an era in which even a survey beyond the shabby Cape City of the Cape of Good Hope was not completed.

I didn’t know anyone who would say they crossed the Dark Continent in such a world.

No, I only knew one person. 

It was also a very famous person, 

“Do you mean Dr. Livingston?” 

Arthur nodded.  

“Yes, the explorer’s name was David Livingston, who came back from crossing the Dark Continent and couldn’t give any answer. But, you guessed the name as soon as you saw it. Impressive.” 

F*ck. 

Arthur was gifted with many things, but he had one exceptional talent.

He was a very good speaker, and even a short chatter that seemed meaningless became a double-edged sword and ate the listener. 

And I played into his hands. 

I don’t know how to answer how I knew about something that even the great Dr. Livingston couldn’t find it out. 

Saying I saw it by chance doesn’t work anymore.

Because, Dr. Livingston is a far more prominent figure in the Dark Continent than I, a four-year rookie explorer. 

This was the absurdity of the Victorian era.

If you cross one or two bridges, you will become acquaintances with the brilliant people you have only seen in textbooks. 

I hesitated to answer. 

Just like a frog that got paralyzed in front of the snake. 

I had a hunch that Arthur would eat me if I made a foolish excuse.

An awkward silence fell in the room. 

Arthur placed a bunch of papers on the desk instead of further questioning as if he got the answer from my silence. 

The paper fluttered and the dust that had accumulated between them poured out.

“Cough cough…! Oh, my God, what kind of mess is this?”

“As soon as I received the statue, I had a question. What was it made of? Bronze? Silver? Or jade? At least I knew intuitively that it was unlike any ores I had ever seen.”

I sniffled and nodded my head.

It certainly was. 

As soon as I saw this, I thought it was a strange material with a strange color. 

It’s just that I couldn’t afford to think about it. 

“So I cut off the statue and asked the Royal Society to analyze its composition.” 

“What?!” 

I jumped and screamed at Arthur’s bold declaration. 

“Oh, my God, Art! What the hell were you thinking!” 

I lifted the statue. It was heavier than I thought, so I had a hard time. 

As I was spinning the statue, I found an unnatural cross section in an elongated area that I did not know whether it was a toenail or a toe. 

It was a very recent cut, about the size of a finger.

“Why did you cut it without knowing anything about it? What if it leaves a mark on it!?” 

“I was wondering what you were talking about… Philo, are you a moron? The 19th century is the age of chemistry. Even if my father couldn’t take that approach, we should take a scientific approach that is modern.”  

Arthur was so nonchalant that I looked like a fool. 

No, rather he complained branding my concern as ‘Stupidity’

Once again, I realized how different the common sense of the 21st and 19th centuries were.  

This is the 19th century. 

It was a time when the awareness of the need to protect cultural properties was devastatingly lacking.

It was not uncommon for cultural assets with incalculable historical value to be sold at a bargain price to collectors, or damaging cultural properties in the name of academic reasons. 

If I weigh Arthur’s intellectual ways here with 21st-century common sense, he’ll treat me as a very uncivilized man. 

Even knowing that I couldn’t get rid of all my nervousness.

If it was really Cthulhu…… If it really exists, this statue would also have some magic power. 

I was gripped by an ominous foreboding that Arthur’s rash act might bring some curse.

Without knowing my worries, Arthur felt better because he thought I understood his actions when I didn’t say much, so he spread out the analysis papers on the table. 

I reluctantly picked up one of them. 

It was a shiny document with the Royal Society’s seal. 

Let me introduce myself again for a moment.  

I graduated from Cambridge University, where I was formally recognized for my Ph.D. through a degree committee, although not through academics. 

In addition, it could be said that with the advantage of my knowledge of the 21st century, I was ahead of many experts in some areas. 

I’m not proud, but by 19th-century modern standards, I belong to a great literacy class. 

What I did not understand was not that I was ignorant, but that the author of this paper was unfriendly. 

It’s not an excuse, he really is! 

“Do you know what happened?” 

Arthur gave me a paper with ingredient analysis as I wrestled with the unrecognizable jargon. 

“45% platinum, 23% iron, and 0.5%… Tellurium? I don’t know what this is.” 

“It doesn’t matter there. Read more.” 

I pronounced more elemental components that I have only heard of by name. 

And when I got to the end of it, instead of complex chemical terms, there was a phrase in it. 

I read aloud. 

“The Royal Society is convinced that the following three elements are different from anything ever found on Earth. However, due to the lack of samples, detailed research has not been conducted, so the society hopes that you donate the entire statue to contribute to science and human development…??” 

I glanced up at Arthur. 

He shrugged his shoulders. 

“What do you think?” 

“Crazy bi*ches,” 

Arthur burst into laughter at my swear words. 

“I’m not sending the statue.” 

“Of course!”

Arthur looked at me blankly and corrected his words with the shy smile, characteristic of a man who realized his mistake

“No, I mean it doesn’t matter.” 

Arthur suddenly rose from his seat. 

I widened my eyes at his sudden action as I was about to pick up another analysis paper from the table. 

He held the statue in his arms and said, 

“Let’s go, I need to show you something.” 

“What? Wait!” 

I got up from my seat hurriedly.

It was not easy to match his tempo as a person who lacked one leg.

Arthur hurried out into the hallway without looking at me for a second.

I hobbled hard and chased after him as I uttered a curse word in my head. 

CREAK.

 ——CREAK, SQUEAK. 

Every time I walked through the wooden hallway, which was rotting away, it let out a shriek that tickled my ears.

Every time I took a step, I was careful not to lose my footing, but Arthur stomped as if he was used to it. 

“You have a lot of money, so why don’t you fix the hallway?” 

“I’m sure you’ve got quite a few questions you’d like to ask. You’re probably curious — Why has the mansion changed so much compared to 20 years ago? Where did the other servants go, who is that odd-looking butler? How did I inherit this statue? What is my decade of research?” 

I was sick of Arthur’s attitude of not even pretending to listen, but the things he said one by one were things I was wondering about from the beginning, so I couldn’t even complain, but just silently nod my head.

“And, how come I’m not old?” 

I was surprised by two things. 

The first was that he was aware that he was not old, and the second was about his brazenness. 

He knew very well about my curiosity but pretended not to know. 

“But let’s put all those explanations behind us a little bit because everything has its own order. Don’t you think so?” 

I could only see his back, but I was sure Arthur was giggling by now.

Because he was a very good speaker. 

Every speaker gets excited as the listener fretted. 

“Where should I start? Yeah, it all started with a letter. It was a letter containing my father’s obituary.” 

He recounted his monologue as if looking back on the distant past. 

But I knew that it hasn’t been a year since Count Frank died. 

“After my father passed away, a rude guest who I didn’t invite visited. He was an insurance investigator. He even visited the mansion two days before the police and the lawyers. He scrutinized my father’s death and my family’s fortune. From dawn till the street lights went out, for a week. So what do you think he eventually found out?” 

I was annoyed by Arthur’s interrupted speech as the story became interesting and said sarcastically. 

 “Well, to surprise you, it has to be a big deal. Did he find another heir?” 

Arthur let out a gasp for a moment, then smiled hysterically after a while.

“Hahaha….a twin brother, no one really knew, in a secret cellar in this mansion, who’s been abused for the past 40 years. That’s great, Philo, that’s great.” 

Arthur stopped moving. 

Arthur walked a little further, while I stopped following him. 

He turned and walked toward me.

“My family is cursed. Philo, I’m cursed,”

Arthur said with a smile. 

He tapped my shoulder with his palm. 

“Let’s talk about this some other time. More than that, my father’s madness and ego are ingrained in our family’s beams and screws. Finding out the source of the curse has become my calling. Luckily, there was a huge fortune left behind by my father, and fortunately, there is nothing in the world that cannot be done with the money.” 

Arthur started walking again. 

It was not hard to keep up because his step was slower than a while ago. 

It was hard to believe, but I had to admit that he cared for me. 

“Do you happen to read the dailies?” 

“You mean the grumpy prank in the Daily Telegraph?” 

“Frank’s Fools. I like it. The Daily Telegraph finally did what I liked.”

It was out of the blue. 

I checked Arthur’s countenance. 

What is his intention to bring up this topic all of a sudden? 

Those who didn’t know Arthur was bound to think he was a very impulsive person. 

That was true to a certain extent, however, the meticulous aspects of the occasion were always overlooked. 

“It wasn’t like one of your jokes.” 

“Why?” 

He looked pleased. 

It was a sign that I was well on my way to the right answer.

“No humor,” 

I said it briefly.  

This was not Arthur Frank’s way. 

If he wanted to debunk how ignorant famous celebrities were, he would have crushed them in their field of expertise. 

Inviting a person and locking the door, even a three-year-old can do it.

“Then what can I add to give humor to this joke?” 

Humor? 

I rolled my head to unravel this troubling riddle from Arthur. 

Frank’s fools. 

The victims will dismiss the disturbance as a childish prank and restore their reputation by swearing at Arthur. 

If it’s Arthur he would make it clear that they were ignorant.

Maybe……

Maybe they couldn’t find it.

There was a separate way to get into the mansion, and it’s what they couldn’t find. 

What did they say they were invited for in the first place? 

An academic conference? 

“That’s it, that’s it. Frank’s fool prank itself was a test.”

They didn’t believe in Arthur but believed the common sense that they were pranked. 

Arthur, who saw my face put on a playful expression.  

“I like the word ‘Fool’. The unknown has always been dug up by unconvincing fools. But it’s hard when a real fool who thinks he’s smart is mixed in. I’ve made my own filter.” 

Arthur grabbed the candlestick on the wall and pulled it down. 

Oh, I’ve seen this move quite a few times in classic movies. 

Yeah, like a secret room. 

CREEEEEEEEEK

The white wall cracked, and a narrow path that could barely fit one person through was opened.

A warm wind blew through the dark passage.

It was a staircase leading down to the basement.

“Welcome, Philo, the Frankish Society is real.” 

Arthur smiled shyly like a child confessing a secret.