Reincarnated Cthulhu Chapter 2

Arthur Frank's Bizarre Mansion

As I stepped out into the street, the fishy scent of the River Thames hit the tip of my nose.

This symbol of London that traverses London has become rotten water that cannot be inhabited by any living thing due to the dumping of sewage by factories for decades. 

It's not pleasant, but I dare to confess that I like this smell.

Although I had been away for about 10 years due to my life in the military and as an explorer, this was the smell of my hometown for me, who was born and raised in London. 

I knew that getting close would cause Atopy, but still, I enjoyed walking along the Thames. 

Bang! 

“Get out of the way! Get out of the way!” 

“Ouch…” 

A carriage that came close behind me narrowly flashed past my back. 

Behind the carriage with a red flag, a car passed while pressing the horn at a leisurely pace, emitting soot.

“Hey f*cker, keep your eyes open and walk!” 

I looked behind me and gazed at the coachman, who was swearing and passing by. 

“These days…huh” 

These days!! 

I never thought those words would come out of my mouth in my entire life… 

These days I am feeling older than ever. 

You may wonder whether these are words from a man with memories of the 21st century, but in my view, the youngsters of this generation are the worst. 

There is no young man who shows respect for the elders and nobles like they used to be when I was young. 

It was ironic, but as I lived as a reincarnated person, I met such irony countless times. 

There was a lot of noise in the parliament due to the repeal of the historical evil law and the gun regulations, but I did not feel any emotion at that historical moment. 

Rather, I was worried about how many accidents the unregulated cars would cause. 

I understand what you are thinking, a 21st-century modern man with advanced thinking in no way would think like that, but guess what, I'm just an old man in the 19th century. 

In any case, I was able to catch the carriage after many difficulties, standing at the end of the road. 

“Where shall we go, Sir?” asked the coachman.

I took a deep breath and said 

“Out of town, to Frank's mansion.” 

“Frank mansion?” 

The coachman asked back with a startled stare. 

“What's the matter?” 

“I don't say anything bad, sir, but you're probably being fooled.” 

“What?”

I asked back with a puzzled look, as I didn't expect the coachman to stop me from visiting my acquaintance's mansion. 

“There's no such thing as an academic conference on mystics hosted by the Earl of Frank. Look,” 

The coachman handed me the daily newspaper he had stuck in his side. 

Oh, the Daily Telegraph. 

It was a daily newspaper that workers enjoyed reading. 

I didn't enjoy reading that much. 

“Isn't there a list in the joke section?” 

[Frank's fools.] 

The names of celebrities I knew well were written all over the place. 

“What is this?” 

“Victims list, sir. Count Frank personally reported the names of the fools who arrived in front of his mansion. If you don't want to be humiliated, you better go back.” 

……Aha, apparently Arthur played a very fancy prank without my knowledge. 

It also caused a commotion that even a London coachman knew about it. 

Arthur Frank has always been such a man. 

He was conspicuous everywhere, and he always did unimaginable travesties.

“No, it's fine. Don't worry about me, I'm just going to see someone I know.” 

“If that's what you want, sir, I won't stop you.” 

NEIGH

The coachman shook the reins, muttering as if he didn't like my choice. 

“Yay!” 

NEIGH NEIGH NEIGH

As the carriage began to move due to the horse pulling, an addictive shake began to be transmitted through the seat. 

I put my arm over the pierced window and thought as I looked over the grayish-brown London sky. 

'Why did Arthur look for me?' 

He is a man of great fortune. 

If he wanted a scholar, Arthur could have called Charles Darwin lying on his bed. 

If he wanted an explorer, he could have made Roal Amundsen, who is traveling in the Antarctic Ocean to turn his ship. 

If he wanted a soldier, the Queen would have gladly given him the best soldier in her first Royal Dragoon Guards. 

All of them would be better than me, who had some unusual careers, but not much of a success. 

In fact, Arthur's interest in me since college was abnormal. 

In my youthful days, I enjoyed his wealthy favors, but it didn't have anything to do with my enlistment. 

I hadn't heard from him since I was discharged from the army, so I believed that I was completely out of his sight, but suddenly a letter came from him. 

“He is not planning to make fun of me…right?” 

I was bothered by what the coachman said. 

Arthur, sitting on a luxurious leather sofa with his rich real friends, giggling as he sees a newbie celebrity limping and hanging around his door. 

The newspapers that tried to uncover my name would mock me for good. 

'No, it can't be. I wasn't that shady.' 

I tried to shake off my anxious thoughts and fall asleep. 

It didn't even need any effort. 

I took advantage of the comfortable shaking of the carriage and it dragged me into a dream in an instant. 

“Sir, we're here.” 

The coachman, who was trying to wake me up, withdrew in surprise when I opened my eyes before he could reach me. 

Not sleeping deeply was a habit that I developed after my military career. 

I came down comfortably from the carriage with the help of the coachman, who noticed that my leg was uncomfortable, and I added a lot of tips to the coachman as a token of appreciation. 

The coachman said with great delight. 

“Sir, it would be hard to get a carriage in such a remote place. If you tell me the time, I'll come to pick you up.” 

It was a grateful consideration for a person like me, but I decided to politely decline his offer. 

“Art has a car. He'll take me downtown.” 

The coachman, who thought for a moment about who Art was, asked back in surprise. 

“You mean Count Frank?” 

I nodded as I tasted the unique pleasure of briefly showing off my acquaintance with a celebrity. 

The coachman bowed to me with a vague expression for a while and left in a hurry. 

I rang the bell at the entrance of the mansion as I watched the carriage leave. 

DING DONG! 

'Did he fire the gardener?'

My question was legitimate. 

The ivy escaped over the fence without restraint, and even moss was blooming in the shade. 

Is that a mushroom? 

Everything was sloppy for a prestigious mansion. 

Waiting for a servant to open the door, I peeped through the Gothic window gate into the garden of the mansion. 

I had a few opportunities to visit when I was young, and I was always amazed by the colorful scenery that changed as if I were in a different garden each time. 

But the garden I see through the door now was very different from what I expected. 

I wondered where the colorful and harmonious garden, which seemed to have only the most beautiful flowers and gardens in the world, went, and I wondered if I could call this a garden. 

It was full of thorns. 

Except for the stone road leading to the mansion, thorn trees and red roses were growing in random knots. 

Two plants with thorns pushed each other out and they were at war as if see who had the more pointed thorns. 

No matter which side wins, this garden will be destroyed. 

When I had such an appreciation, the gate opened by itself. 

'Automatic door?' 

Oh, my. When did this mansion become so high-tech? 

I tilted my head. 

When I came in, the door closed on its own as if it had sensed it. 

'Closes on its own?' 

I was surprised once again. 

Is this British technology?

The 21st century is no match. 

Maybe in 200 years, we'll catch up. 

The thorny garden from up close was even more spectacular. 

As I walked along the stone road to the mansion, the thorn bushes on both sides gradually invaded, and eventually even the illusion that they were trying to swallow me occurred. 

It was unbearable for people with claustrophobia. 

To sum up the landscape of the mansion in a word, I would say [Suspicious] 

Whatever happened in the last 20 years, the mansion has changed like the background of a dreary mystery novel. 

It was a bad omen. 

KNOCK KNOCK! 

When I arrived at the door, I grabbed the doorknob and knocked hard on the door. 

After a while, I heard footsteps and the unlocking sound. 

“Who are you?” 

“Herbert, Philemon Herbert.” 

'Isn't it a little out of order? Shouldn't he unlock the door before asking who I am?' 

I gently told my name with that question in my head. 

“…There is no such name in the list.” 

“What? That can't be true. Check the list properly!” 

The other person's answer reminded me of the ominous possibility I had in my head in the carriage. 

Whether he knew how I felt or not, I could hear the sound of paper turning from inside. 

It was one minute that felt terribly long.

“…I double-checked, sir, there's no Philemon Herbert.”

“Let me see that silly list for a second!” 

“Even if you say that…”

KNOCK KNOCK

I violently hit the doorknob again. 

He wrote me a letter. 

The name on it can't be written differently… ……..

'Wait…..maybe.' 

I said, frowning at the possibility that came to my mind. 

“…floccinaucinihilipilification.” 

“What?” 

“Is there a name floccinaucinihilipilification? That's probably me.” 

I heard a paper flip from inside. 

“Can you pronounce it again?” 

“Flocci nauci nihili pilifi cation.” 

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“Flocci…nauci….nihili pilification.” 

“Yes.”

“Oh, yes, there is.” 

As I relaxed I lost the strength in my knees. 

I pressed the cane with all my strength to keep me from falling. 

Floccinaucinihilipilification. 

It's a word that's terribly difficult to pronounce, and it's a word that Shakespeare made… 

No, let's cut it out, it's kind of a joke that the two of us made. 

Arthur introduces me as Floccinaucinihilipilification in a public place and is the kind of feisty joke that makes fun of people around him. 

I couldn't believe he still remembered the joke. 

More than that, it was so embarrassing that I even remembered it. 

“I've been waiting for you, Mr.Floxynosini-Hilly-Philippines.” 

“Herbert's enough.” 

I was tired of the old butler's audacity and answered helplessly. 

I didn't know I'd be this exhausted before I went in. 

I turned my head to thank the old butler for opening the door, but I was surprised as soon as I saw his face. 

I kept staring at him in spite of knowing it was very rude to stare at someone. 

“Is there a problem, Sir?”

“No, nothing. I'm sorry.” 

The old man was literally bizarre. 

The wrinkle in his face, which was far beyond the limits of human beings, looked like it had melted halfway, and I couldn't even guess his age.

If that was all, it would be enough to insult Arthur's indifference in preying on an old man, but the strangest thing was the old man's body was like that of a strong young man. 

It was the incarnation of incongruity, as if two people, an old man's head and a young man's body were attached to form a new body. 

“Then Mr. Herbert, Master is waiting in the drawing room.” 

I nodded, overwhelmed by bizarreness. 

He led slowly. 

I didn't even think he was an old man looking at him from the back. 

He had broad shoulders, a straight waist, and was taller than me. 

——CREAK… 

CREAK……….

Every time I walked, I heard the damp floor creak. 

It was like a haunted house. 

“We better go to the floor soon.” 

“Haha. It's meaningless.” 

Meaningless? 

What does that mean?  

While I was pondering the meaning of the word, the old butler and I passed through an unknown number of doors. 

It was more like walking in the hallway of a hotel than a house where people live. 

I tried to ask how much further we had to go, but there was no need for that, so I kept my mouth shut.

The old butler stopped at a door and knocked with great politeness. 

Like someone who just learned how to knock. 

Knock, knock. 

“Floxino-Hillney-Philipitation is here.” 

I heard a low laugh from the inside. 

It was Arthur's voice without a doubt. 

“Thank you, but it's Floccinaucinihilipilification. Tell him to come in.” 

“I was rude. Forgive me.”

I shook my head at the apologetic old butler. 

“I'll get the apology from Art.” 

I grabbed the doorknob and opened the door with all my might. 

And I marched into the drawing-room with a stiff head and a marching soldier's heart in order to make the best protest I could to the rude landlord. 

Under the swaying chandelier, the owner of the house, who is sitting in a chair, finds it interesting to see me like that and said,

“Oh, Philo, my friend. You came.” 

There was Arthur Frank, who hasn't changed from what I remember was there. 

I was appalled. 

Literally, he hasn't changed. 

As if he skipped aging for 20 years. 

“What is this…” 

“Hahaha. I know, there's a lot you want to ask. Sit down for now. I don't want to keep you standing for long. Especially…” 

Arthur winked at my prosthetic leg. 

My feet were just about to hurt badly, so I decided to sit down in the chair without complaining. 

The old butler, watching me whine and sit on the chair, reached out his hand. 

“I'll take the cane.” 

“That's fine, it's my leg! Have you seen anyone leave their legs to others?” 

I almost punched the poor old man's hand. 

Yeah, I admit it. 

I was very rude. 

It was a clear overreaction. 

But think a little bit. 

I have seen a lot of weird things since I entered this mansion. 

If it was a horror novel, I would sigh at the author's excessive use of cliche. 

I will be saying 'Yeah yeah, that's enough, and on the next page, there will be a monster or a murder or both.' 

That's amazing. 

A monster coming out of a monster's mansion. 

I never imagined it. 

But now I was at the scene. 

The idea of taking away a cane is like… 

Yeah, I admit it. 

I'm totally freaked out. 

“Oh my God, Philo, what's going on? Where did the innocent young man who was burning with the thirst for knowledge go and why did a narrow-minded old man arrive?” 

“There were ordinary things that could happen in life.” 

I answered bluntly on purpose. 

“Rather, it seems that you lacked the ordinary.”

“Haha, do I? That's great. I like being special. If I heard someone saying I'm normal, I wouldn't have been able to stand it.” 

Arthur laughed with delight at my words. 

“That's not what I'm saying… Damn it, you look like you're twenty years old.” 

“I don't care about that kind of trifle things, so let's get down to business.” 

“What trifle!?”

Arthur ignored my protest. 

Not only the looks but also the personality was that of Arthur Frank that I remembered.

He was completely indifferent to anything other than his own interests. 

Like the way he had treated me for the last 20 years. 

He took a picture out of his arms and put it on the desk. 

I almost screamed when I saw it. 

“What's this!? You were there! Is this the right picture!?” 

“Hahaha. I thought you'd come if I sent the wrong one. You've always been like that.” 

It was a much clearer picture compared to what I received during the day. 

“You look down on me too much!” 

“I'm not looking down on you, rather I'm overestimating you.” 

I glared at Arthur for protest. 

He looked me in the eye and smiled, completely indifferent. 

Ah, damn. 

It's that eye. 

It's the eye that's always got me into trouble. 

“You're rare, Philo, have confidence.” 

“That's something I don't want to hear from you.” 

“Of course, I'm the most unusual person. How can you compare yourself to me?” 

Look, just a few words, he entirely changes the pace of the conversation.  

I forced myself back to the subject of photography. 

“So, what is this? What statue did it look like?” 

“What did you think?” 

“Well…. I thought it was a human figure. A man with arms and legs, sitting and contemplating. Like Rodin's Thinker… But that's not what my maid Marie said. She said the hair looks so weird for a human being. I also thought that was true.” 

When I took my eyes off the bizarre picture, I was surprised to see Arthur's face. 

He was expressing his displeasure all over his face. 

I hardly remembered seeing him make such a hateful expression. 

Where in my story was there an expression that would offend him? 

“Did you say, Marie?” 

“Huh? Ah, yes. She's doing the housework for me because of bad legs.” 

“You've got a very bad girl on your side. Once you go back, fire her right away. If you need a housekeeper, I'll arrange one for you.”

“What?” 

I couldn't get the hang of the subject. 

I couldn't keep up with the topic. I was talking about the picture, and I couldn't figure out why my housekeeper was suddenly mentioned.

“Yeah, I'd rather choose a little more obedient, a little brainy, a little less assertive one.”

“What do you mean! I cherish the relationship! Even you won't be able to kick out the maid of my choice!” 

“Philo, I'm serious. She's having a very bad influence on you. She's ruining your free imagination! A person? I don't need an answer like that. Here!” 

BANG! 

Arthur put something on his desk, growling obnoxiously. 

“Answer me! What does this look like!”

I knew about it. 

It was a statue that I saw in the picture. 

Size is 11 inches above and below (about 30 cm) by eye measurement. 

The material seems to be bronze or jade, and it was difficult to know. 

The surface seemed to be sensitive to blue light, but it shone green according to the angle. 

It looked like a man sitting with the hands on the knees. 

The overall appearance was blunt due to its clumsy formulation compared to its size, but the details that could not be seen in the picture were unpleasant. 

But nothing could surprise me. 

After the statue came up to the table, my eyes were fixed as if they were nailed to one part. 

On its neck, which was almost in the form of a man, was a terrible form of head that was indescribable. 

If I have to paraphrase, cephalopods…octopus, or something like that. 

In the end, there was only one word that came to mind. 

“Damn it, it's Cthulhu.” 

It was like the Cthulhu statue depicted in the novel.

Chapter end