It Turned Out She Wasn't a Favored Concubine - Episode 18

The dense archive was practically a sealed room. Inside the fairly large space, dozens of bookshelves were crammed together. The gaps between shelves were so narrow that a person could only squeeze through sideways.

I walked deeper into the archive, the sound of my heels echoing. The books packed tightly on the shelves varied in size, and some weren’t even properly bound—just loose pages bundled together.

It reminded me of my own bookshelf back home. University textbooks I hadn’t thrown away, novels by my favorite authors, printed materials from studying for certifications, and documents from work…

Ah, memories of my original world, buried for so long, came rushing back like a tidal wave. Was interdimensional travel truly impossible? If only I could return home, if only I could see my family again—I’d do anything.

I hurriedly scanned the shelves again. Maybe, just maybe, there was a forgotten, sealed-away document. Something that described a way to teleport back to my original world…

But no book stood out. Of course, there wouldn’t be a title like “How to Travel to Another World” or “How to Return to Your Original World.” It was just a foolish hope.

I gave up the silly fantasy and pulled out a few books. Sitting at a narrow desk in the corner of the archive, I flipped through the pages.

Even though I tried to suppress my expectations, a sigh of disappointment escaped. As expected, reading a few books wouldn’t suddenly reveal what I’d been searching for over the past few months.

I read a page from what looked like a recent academic book describing someone named Perlo Shanaiyer. Red hair and red eyes. In his twenties, he had improved the royal palace’s barrier in Martania, refined the efficiency of Motus crafting, extended travel distances innovatively—a genius without equal.

The book also said this: Most Motus crafters, once they reach a level where they can craft Motus with decent travel distance and frequency, focus solely on crafting to earn money rather than researching Motus itself. But Perlo was one of the few true Motus crafters who studied the essence of Motus.

He occasionally crafted Motus to fund his research, but his main goal was to challenge Motus crafting in ways never seen before.

I should’ve called out to him at the auction. Even if it raised suspicion, I should’ve stopped him and asked questions!

Suddenly, I tasted something metallic and realized I’d bitten my lip. Blood had slightly welled up. I had a habit of biting my lip when deep in thought or worried—something I thought I’d left behind after high school.

I needed to pull myself together.

Pressing a handkerchief to my lip, I scanned the shelves again. Then I spotted a research book scribbled in handwriting so messy it was nearly illegible. Even the title was unreadable.

In novels and movies, it’s always books like this that contain the answers. Frowning to avoid falling into a dramatic trap, I opened the book. As expected, the inside was worse—doodles and sketches filled every page.

I flipped through, trying to decipher it, but it was impossible. The only word I could make out here and there was “Motus.”

It was so incomprehensible that I suspected the librarian had placed it in the archive solely because of that one word.

Frustrated, I flipped the pages roughly. Then something fell out with a sharp sound.

Already irritated by the indecipherable book and the uncomfortable dress, I was now forced to bend down under the shelf. My anger flared.

What could possibly be stuck between the pages?

Carefully, so as not to tear my dress, I bent down. Deep under the wooden floor, something glimmered—a thin, reddish stone.

“Why was something like this stuck in a research book?”

A bookmark, maybe? I reached out, struggling to grab the stone. My fingers finally touched it.

But the moment I felt its solid texture, my body was engulfed in red light.

“Ahhh!”

The pain was worse than the fear. I collapsed to the floor in shock. Thankfully, a thick carpet cushioned the fall, so I probably wouldn’t bruise.

Wait—carpet?

Even in my panic, I felt something was off. The archive floor had been wooden. I lifted my head.

“W-where am I?”

It wasn’t the archive. It didn’t even seem like the royal library. I was in a large warehouse-like space surrounded by tall gray walls. Before I could take it all in, a thunderous voice rang out behind me.

“Who are you? Ugh, we just moved labs a few days ago and already another intruder?”

I turned toward the voice. A man was pointing at me with one hand while holding a fist-sized piece of bread in the other.

He looked like someone whose meal had been interrupted by an unexpected guest.

I instinctively waved my hands.

“No, wait! I don’t know what’s going on either… I swear I’m not an intruder!”

Not knowing was reason enough. I mumbled, then shouted.

The man cautiously approached. As he drew closer, his face became clearer. A young man in his twenties, wearing a loose robe. He looked familiar. He brushed back his red hair and glared at me. His red eyes were striking.

“P-Perlo Shanaiyer?”

I called out the name etched in my memory. I’d only seen him once, briefly, but I couldn’t forget that face.

Red hair and red eyes—Perlo Shanaiyer raised an eyebrow.

“Hmph! Don’t go throwing around people’s names.”

It was him. The person I’d desperately wanted to meet. My last hope of returning to my original world.

I had so many questions, but the unexpected situation left me speechless. I just stared at his red eyes, my lips twitching.

“Pretending not to be a thief, huh?”

“No, I mean…”

“Was this your plan in case you got caught?”

Perlo scoffed and looked down at me with sharper eyes.

“I’m amazed you found my lab. I bought this warehouse under someone else’s name on purpose. How did you know? If you tell me honestly, I might let you go.”

He kept talking. The Perlo Shanaiyer I’d been desperate to meet, the one I’d asked Erich to help me contact.

“Hey! Are you even listening?”

“Huh? Yes! Of course I’m listening.”

“Then how did you find me? Thought I still had money left from that auction, didn’t you? Well, it’s all gone. If you’re going to steal, you should’ve come when I had money. What’s the point of finding the lab if you can’t sniff out the cash?”

He thought I was a thief. I had to clear that up first.

“Wait! I’m not a thief, I swear! I don’t even know how I got here. I was just in the dense archive—the royal library’s dense archive—looking through research books, and a stone fell out. I tried to pick it up, and the next thing I knew, I was here!”

It was the truth, but I didn’t expect him to believe it right away. If he didn’t think I was crazy, that would be a win.

Surprisingly, Perlo looked like he understood my bizarre explanation.

“The royal library’s dense archive? What kind of stone? Was it a thin, reddish one?”

Exactly. That matched the stone I’d seen.

“Yes, that’s it. The moment I touched it, I saw a red light. Then I woke up here.”

“…”

Perlo fell silent, raising a finger to his chin and rubbing it thoughtfully. He seemed deep in thought, so I gave him space—but the silence dragged on too long.

“Excuse me? Do you know that stone?”

It sounded funny—asking if he knew a stone—but he had described it precisely. Still, he didn’t respond or even look at me.

It was maddening to see someone who clearly knew something just stand there silently.

“Excuse me?”

“…”

I didn’t give up.

“Hello?”

“…”

Three tries, all ignored. They say patience prevents murder, right? This was my third time being completely ignored. My admiration and hope for Perlo vanished in an instant.

I dusted myself off and marched right up to him, lifting my face close to his.

“Hey!”

“Ah, what the—?”

Startled, Perlo jumped back.

“You scared me!”

“I was going crazy from frustration! That thin red stone—what is it? You know something, don’t you?”

I fired off my words without pause, not even realizing I was speaking informally. Perlo looked slightly guilty and muttered in a lower voice.

“That’s a Motus I crafted.”

“What?”

“It’s not just a stone—it’s a Motus.”

I stepped back and blinked at him.

Support