Mururunsoft

Online/Offline Compatible Roguelike MO Action + Online Versus Action.

Maya's Memory

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I spread a piece of parchment on the table. Its edges were blackened as if burnt, and brown stains appeared here and there. The paper itself gave off a dry, yellowed smell, as though it had aged with time. Sitting in front of it, I took a deep breath. A sharp knife glinted in the candlelight, flickering in my hand. Carefully, I pressed the blade to my fingertip and slid it. A sharp sting shot through me for just a moment, followed by a slow trickle of deep crimson blood. I let the blood drip onto the parchment and began tracing a magic circle with my finger.

* * *

     I didn't have any specific dreams, but I desperately wanted to get away from my parents. After a tough job hunt, I barely managed to slip into a mid-sized company's office in the city. What awaited me there, however, was a life of utter monotony.

     Every day was just organizing papers and inputting data. My coworkers chatted cheerfully with each other, but I never managed to join their circle.

      I've always been like that since I was a child—separated from others by an invisible wall, like unbreakable glass. I couldn't shatter that wall, no matter how much I wanted to.

     Always alone, unable to truly connect with anyone. Each time I heard their laughter, a growing sense of isolation filled my heart.

     One day, I was harshly reprimanded by my boss. I didn't recall making any mistake, but I lacked the will to argue. I just lowered my head and let it pass. The boss's words stabbed into my chest, replaying over and over in my mind. In the end, I couldn't fit in and decided to quit.

     I collapsed onto my bed without even changing clothes. I couldn't bring myself to do anything anymore. Soon, my life flipped day and night, meals became irregular, and I spent my days in a trash-strewn room, drowning in emptiness. The world outside the window felt distant, like a place that had nothing to do with me. Everything felt meaningless—like I was sinking into darkness.

      As my bank balance dwindled, resentment and anger toward my former workplace began to swirl inside me. It was then that I stumbled upon a website about black magic.

     At first, I was skeptical, but the information about curses and demon-summoning rituals intrigued me. Gradually, I became completely obsessed with that world.

     The internet wasn't enough—I spent the last of my money collecting old books and magical tools. I cleaned up my room for the first time in ages. In its place, the floor was now scattered with handmade books covered in ancient symbols, and papers filled with spells and notes in red-black ink. A large wooden table stood in the center, stacked with books and ritual implements. Candlesticks lined its surface, flames flickering gently. Bundles of incense wrapped in black cloth released a heavy, bittersweet aroma. My life became completely devoted to black magic.

     I no longer cared about my old job. I redirected the chaotic energy of my anger into messy drawings and rambling text, posting them online for some income. No need to meet people. If the magic worked, a demon would appear—and it would save me. I was certain of it.

     My only real annoyance was the occasional noise from the nearby construction site.

     As I arranged the tools, chanted incantations, and repeated rituals, I began to feel a power welling up inside me. Immersed in the world of magic, I felt like I had finally found my true self.

     One twilight evening, I decided to perform a full-fledged summoning ritual. I spread a piece of parchment on the table. Its edges were blackened as if burnt, and brown stains appeared here and there. The paper itself gave off a dry, yellowed smell, as though it had aged with time. Sitting in front of it, I took a deep breath. A sharp knife flickered faintly in the wavering candlelight. Carefully, I pressed the blade to my fingertip and slid it. A sharp sting shot through me for just a moment, followed by a slow trickle of deep crimson blood. I let the blood drip onto the parchment and began tracing a magic circle with my finger. When the blood ran out, I cut again. Eventually, I made wounds on my wrist and continued drawing, ignoring the pain. As the smell of iron mixed with the incense, I focused with all my might on completing the ritual.

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The Devil Summoner – Chapter 2

     I trembled with ecstasy, convinced the ritual had succeeded. Darkness swirled, space warped—I felt I had gained new power.

     Suddenly, a small demon appeared atop the magic circle. It looked like a little girl with blonde hair and an oversized head. Dressed in a black robe and floating with flapping wings, I decided to call it a "little devil" for now.

     The devil hovered toward me, scanned my face intently, and then grimaced—clearly unimpressed.

"I don't wanna make a pact with a gloomy girl like you!"

"Sure, I can sense the power of an Arcana, but…"

"My Devil King should be a big, buff, musclehead who looks super strong!"

     As the demon rolled around on the magic circle whining about muscles, I pointed toward the construction site visible far out the window. Noisy machinery buzzed beneath the twilight sky.

"If you like muscleheads so much, I bet you'll find one around there."

"You're right!"

     With a cheerful squeal, the demon zipped out the window.

     The next day, news of a gruesome mass murder at a construction site would shake the nation.

     But I didn't watch the news—none of that mattered to me. My only concern was preparing for the next summoning.

     Disappointed by that little demon, I buried myself even deeper in the study of black magic. I devoured books about demons, devised new rituals, and dedicated my days entirely to the occult.

     I was certain that beyond this path of darkness, I would find a new light. My ideal demon would appear—and it would save me. I didn't care how long it took.

     Alone in the dark, I prepared for the next ritual. In my candle-lit room, I carefully reviewed each incantation, redrew the magic circle over and over. My hands were stained with blood, my body exhausted, but my heart brimmed with a strange sense of fulfillment.

     The power emanating from the circle seemed to promise a new encounter—with a new demon.

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The story will continue in the app around August 2026.

Memory Fragments Top
Ritsu's Memory – The Psychic Idol
Maya's Memory – The Devil Summoner
Taka's Memory – The Delirium Killer
Shin's Memory – The All-Seeing Boy
Ai's Memory – The Girl of Flame

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This page is updated irregularly.

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© Musurunsoft – PSI Masquerade DW Project

The English version uses AI-generated translation.

Top	Characters	Psychic Abilities
Memory Fragments	Guide	Japanese