Passepartout Applications
"Called in and thought you'd be late, but you got here early?"
I was about to tap Shin Sua's face on the interface to check the system message when a massive furball cast a shadow over me. Reflexively closing the interface, I turned around to find U Hyo-chung's afro shaking like pudding. Beside him stood Mun Hee-jeong, her lips pursed small. Her expression looked like she was gauging my mood somehow. Earlier, I'd seen a relationship rank update notification for her too. I'd have to check it properly later. Seems my consistent chit-chat despite her silence, plus holding my own against a powerhouse like Shin Sua in that spar, had made a bit of an impression. Considering why she came to Argo in the first place—to stand out among cadets and grow through interactions with standouts—proving my skills consistently would be key to raising her relationship rank.
"You said you had questions but stopped midway."
"Tell us over food. Mun Hee-jeong was curious too."
I brushed it off vaguely, but U Hyo-chung pressed on without a care, even dropping her name. Obvious they'd followed my path after I dropped Gemma off at the ancestor spirit diner. Given his personality, he'd probably stood loyalty-guard at the main gate of Training Ground 2 for ages. I'd slipped out the back to avoid drawing eyes, so we missed each other. Mun Hee-jeong sticking around to wait with him was unexpected, though. Anyway, this is why you can't hate the guy. Sure, hanging with him makes "country bumpkin" slip out naturally, but he's solid gold at heart. No point hiding info from someone I'd be seeing long-term with her around anyway.
"Alright. Let's grab meal tickets first."
I glanced her way, and Mun Hee-jeong flinched, trembling like a hedgehog dunked in cold water. Guess a delinquent's face is poison to introverts.
"Hmm. What to get."
The unmanned kiosk menu was slim: one each for Korean, Chinese, Japanese, Western. Plus a special menu requiring extra pay. Few options, but they rotated daily per category—no boredom there. U Hyo-chung went for the Chinese Hunan-style soy sauce fried rice. Mun Hee-jeong, true to the game, ordered nakgopsae with extra seasoning. I eyed the special Pad Kapao Moo Sap but played it safe with a large pork cutlet. Love Thai food, but filling up comes first. Running around in Spirit Descent earlier had burned through my breakfast. No wonder Shangju stay lean despite big appetites—the calorie burn during Spirit Descent is insane.
"...This seat's free."
We grabbed our numbers and food; as the staff finished wiping a table, Mun Hee-jeong called me over in a voice too tiny to hear. I sat across from her, and U Hyo-chung plunked his tray to my right.
"Picked something unusual?"
Rich soy scent wafted from the fried rice—a hotel buffet staple, rare at regular Chinese spots.
"Uncle learned to cook in China and opened a place near home. Middle school? Ate it till I was sick of it. But since Argo, it's calling me weirdly."
U Hyo-chung shoveled it in with a ceramic spoon, big bites flying. His build screamed two bowls, but he took small portions. Meanwhile, Mun Hee-jeong chided softly, "Don't slurp so loud..." as she quietly mixed red sauce into her rice.
Mun Hee-jeong hailed from Sancheong County, Gyeongsangnam-do—birthplace of Mun Ikjeom and site of Korea's first Indian cotton cultivation. In the game, a childhood Busan trip hooked her on nakgopsae from Seomyeon, making it her soul food. Recalling game memories, I sliced my cutlet.
"Hoo, hoo."
The extra spice hit hard; she ditched her hood, fanning her mouth frantically. Somehow endearing up close. Worlds apart from screen-gazing. Close enough to snag a bite with chopsticks—this distance made me reflect on my first playthrough, treating them as mere story tools. Kids a decade my junior in real years, but days of shared meals sparked "friends? maybe."
"Oh, almost forgot. What'd the teacher want earlier?"
U Hyo-chung asked mid-meal; I'd mulled my answer while cutting. Time to charm for relationship rank boosts.
"Got up there—three teachers and a stranger."
"Who?"
He leaned in excited; Mun Hee-jeong pretended to eat but perked ears.
"Young woman. Model vibes."
"Ooh... hot?"
"Smoking."
"What business—"
I caught Mun Hee-jeong's pitying glance at us and continued. "Introduced as Billy's acquaintance."
"Billy? Who's that?"
"Dunno. Wasn't the point. She had a three-year-old gripping her hand..."
Kid talk out of nowhere puzzled them. I paused dramatically, then dropped it.
"Said it was my son."
"Pfft!"
"What?!"
Mun Hee-jeong spat water in shock; I reflexively Poltergeist'd the droplets mid-air. Distance from Gemma hiked spirit power drain, but clothes stayed dry. I wiped the floating blob with napkin, handed her my handkerchief; she bobbed her head slightly, took it, dabbed her mouth.
"Worst..."
Criticism over thanks? Unexpected, but "Bullshit. Think I'm nuts enough to screw faceless flings?"
They nodded in sync. Right—I'm blond-tanned delinquent now.
"Fine, say it's not yours. What'd the teachers say?"
"Obvious. Watch behavior, don't hurt women."
"That's it? No way."
"Homeroom's personality wouldn't let it slide. What excuse...?"
They eyed me warily as predicted; I drawled the answer song-like.
"Billy's acquaintance... is not my lover."
"Eughk-hurk-pfft-cough!"
Voice imitation done, Mun Hee-jeong slammed the table, laughing wildly.
"Poo~!"
Follow-up. "Hic... stop... hnk."
Full-on hiccups now.
"Ugh. Cringe."
"Magic's eternal, bro."
"Your next gramps."
"No respect for that culture with your afro?"
"Whatever. Time for classics."
-Vrrr!
Silly banter mid-laughs; U Hyo-chung's phone buzzed on the table.
"Yeah, Dad. Me? Eating with class buds."
He waved casual, stepped away for the call.
"......"
Three to two: awkward silence settled. Mun Hee-jeong, post-giggle fit, quietly speared nakgopsae—dropped a shrimp down her chest.
"Ah..."
I passed wet wipes; flustered, she cleaned it, rubbed the stain. Embarrassed frown, then looked up abruptly.
"Can I ask something?"
"Uh, sure."
"Stick out your tongue quick?"
Eyes said she'd held back asking. "Tongue? Why?"
"...Something to check."
No weird vibes—just pure curiosity? Recalled no Korean medicine trait for her. Game had Taiwanese student Lee Cheong diagnosing constitution via tongue with TCM. Why her? No clue, but complied; she tilted head.
"Why no tongue piercing?"
"Huh?"
"You're blond-tanned delinquent."
That hit weird. Thought her pure country girl—where'd she get the stereotype?
"Judging by looks is bad habit."
I said calmly; she nodded quietly. Wondered her media source but finished eating first. 3500 hours in-game, yet each hides facets I missed. Fanboy thrill, that.
"Huh? Waited for me?"
Call done, U Hyo-chung returned; Mun Hee-jeong zipped lips, hooded up like nothing happened. For her social skills, this much chat was miracle. Adding a third? Heavy pressure. Guide her to mingle as ranks rise.
Start with—
"Crew formed days ago—swap contacts?"
They pulled phones readily.
"Hang outside school sometimes."
Exchanged numbers, messenger IDs; made group chat. Spill teacher talk here later. Post-club promo mid-March, story ramps—villains emerge inside/out Argo. Game-wise, Chapter 1: scout allies.
Ancestors' Grace story's brutal—even Gemma and me couldn't solo easy. Gear up bonds with mains before gears turn; fight foes together if needed.
"Catch ya. Heading to class."
I rose first post-greeting. Cafeteria out, en route to Gemma: pondered fast strength gains. Textbook: classes, after-school for ranks; training, rituals for specs. Smooth relations need cash too. Source sorted. Bigger: blitz challenges for rewards.
Issue: my challenge list changed big. Interface challenges menu: tiny radar icon top-right.
1st clear unlocks challenge detector—random viable quests for trophies. But 1st or 2nd, one main death = bad end. No use ever.
"Wish I could use this."
Test long-press: massive lock center.
Cannot use this function
Unlock Condition: Clear 1st Playthrough
Warning: In Direct Manipulation Mode, must reach True Ending within 1st Playthrough
Message matched expectations.
"Sigh."
Pointless icon if unusable. <What? Food suck? Why the grumpy sighs?>
Deep in disappointment, Gemma emerged from ancestor diner, approached.
"Nah. Box with valuables locked—pockets empty of keys. Not really inside, just metaphor—"
Mid-explain, lightning struck synapses.
"Huh?"
Eyes to left wrist: Soul Thread Bracelet hid it, but Spirit Lord Transformation tattoo—key shape.
"There it is. The key."
If Passepartout opens anything... interface lock too?
Passepartout Applications