A Rootless Man
“What the hell is this?”
Kiiing! The tombstone vibrated, emitting a eerie wail. The ghostly cry that rang out when an Ancestor Spirit's emotions shook violently. In the game, you only heard this in two situations. One was a poltergeist born from intense rage, turning the surroundings into a total mess. Well, that was by far the most common, so no need to think about the other.
Clatter. The ritual vessel I'd set on the floor was rattling too. Definitely something bad going down. Was my ancestor put off by this delinquent getup after all?
“...Huh?”
I'd turned my back on the altar to bolt, but somehow the tombstone had turned pure white. And on top of that, the black streaks Jeong Da-un had mentioned.
“No way.”
I turned back as casually as I could, pretending not to be freaked out. There, before the screen, stood the Ancestor Spirit, tears like chicken shit dripping from its eyes.
“The Ancestor Spirit... is crying.”
The watching students started reacting one by one.
“What's with the sobbing...” One freaked out by the spirit's grudge-filled wails.
“Just a bowl of water and it's tying with Shin Sua?”
“No way. Must be a glitch.”
“...Teacher was right? He's really blood-related?”
Others puzzled over why the stone showed the highest score color.
“......”
And Shin Sua, staring at me with a frozen, rigid face. If she was making that expression, it meant I'd actually succeeded in satisfying the Ancestor Spirit.
[Cause of Death: Dehydration]
I recalled the text that had flickered into existence in the air earlier before vanishing. Not a hallucination. Based on that info, I'd figured out the spirit wanted water—and my guess had hit the mark. I'd even heard the voice of a wandering Ancestor Spirit, which normal methods couldn't communicate with, not to mention piecing together its cause of death. Had I gained some special ability like the other characters when entering the game world?
“Kim Taeyang.”
Jeong Da-un's voice snapped me out of my thoughts.
“The ritual isn't over yet.”
“Got it.”
Jeong Da-un urged me to finish the rest, so I lit the incense paper with the lamp oil and the unread eulogy. The spirit, who'd been savoring the cold water while weeping, finally faded away.
“...Very good.”
Jeong Da-un said only that, then fiddled with the remote to spin the roulette. I braced for a question like the one after Shin Sua's turn, but...
“Next. Oh Seon-gyu—”
Confirming he'd called the next student, I hurried back to my seat. For some reason, a prickling gaze bored into my back. Glancing over, I caught Jeong Da-un turning away. His lips seemed quirked up in a sly smile, like he'd found an amusing new toy. A chill ran up my arms unbidden.
“Still, dodged the bullet.”
The process had been shaky, but it'd worked out. Settling into my chair to celebrate narrowly escaping disaster—
[Checking Placement Exam scores.]
[Main story entry confirmed.]
[Information viewing function unlocked.]
The faint text from before reappeared before my eyes.
* * *
After the placement exam, I headed home alone. Even after getting back, the semitransparent hologram-like text didn't vanish.
“What is this thing?”
No one I passed seemed to see it. Not a single teacher or student gave me a weird look on the way back.
So, unrelated to Ancestor Spirits.
“Main story, huh...”
Story evoked games. Confirming main story entry probably meant acing the placement exam and landing in the same class as the main characters.
Thud. I flopped onto the bed, but the text hovered 50cm from my face, following me. A sudden thought hit: maybe this was like the system messages in games.
Games are the art of interaction. I input, the screen feedbacks. Touching the text might do something.
I gingerly reached out. Earlier, too many eyes. Feared looking like a lunatic pawing at thin air on the first day of school, but now I was alone.
Beep. The moment my index finger tapped the message, an electronic chime rang in my ear.
[Displaying Kim Taeyang's information.]
The four lines vanished, replaced by new text. But only briefly.
Whirr—
Pop! It shrank to a point, then exploded into a massive hologram screen.
Challenge Completion: 0%
Bronze Trophies: 0/160
Silver Trophies: 0/80
Gold Trophies: 0/40
Platinum Trophies: 0/20
Diamond Trophy: 0/1
I'd seen this screen before. Simple blue-based interface. The achievements menu from when my ancestor played Bowhasa.
“......”
A few days ago, yelling “menu” or “status” experimentally got zilch. Now this shows up. But what was I supposed to do with it?
Anyone who's touched console games knows: trophies are data chunks earned for specific achievements. Bronze ones come easy with story progress; rares demand hidden spots, cheesing “unwinnable” bosses, tough conditions. But ultimately, just bait for bragging and collecting. No real game impact—pure vanity.
Why show this now—
[Current Mode: Direct Control]
[Mode Perk: Acquire trophies and additional rewards upon challenge completion]
Trophies plus other rewards? In a real game, that'd be broken balance.
“...Ah.”
This was another reality inside an RPG, still ruled by game laws. Scanning slowly, I spotted other menus. Tapping one switched screens.
(Owned DLC: None)
Owned Ancestor Spirits: None
Contract Slots Available: 0
The only name in the character management screen was mine. No clue why it mentioned DLC that never dropped even after 1.5 years post-launch, but the stats below were readable enough.
“Body's barely scraping past F-tier...”
Nothing impressive. 5 was average first-year high schooler level. So physical stats were below average except speed. Even with Ancestor Spirit buffs, a solid base amplified them more. Plus, enhancement depended on the spirit's power and how much you could handle...
“Early-game, tier 4? Nah, tier 3?”
Still, other stats beat expectations. High Spirit Force meant pulling strong spirit power. Skill above average, Tenacity high from dozens of endings. Initial values only, better than physicals—but paling next to monsters like Gong In-myeong starting double-digits.
But those positives only mattered with Ancestor Spirits.
[Owned Ancestor Spirits: None]
“......”
Fine, none yet. This world let you swap family trees if yours sucked—buying others' pedigrees. Limited to unbroken lineages, often low-rank due to hierarchy, but possible.
Problem was elsewhere.
[Contract Slots Available: 0]
I had Spirit Force as a Shangju, yet zero slots? What fresh bullshit. Weren't contracts single-only? If that number was 2 or 3, multiples possible?
“Training starts tomorrow. What now?”
Couldn't even buy a pedigree workaround. Any fix? Maybe a trait compensates.
Tapping my name opened traits.
Possessed Traits:
<No Genealogy Lv.?>, <Friend of Wandering Souls Lv.2>
Game-format trait screen. But both unknown to me. Friend of Wandering Souls made sense—“Friend of ~” let you hear certain spirits' voices. Like “Friend of the Drowned” in canon, well-used. Probably why I heard the spirit earlier.
No Genealogy? No clue. Why question mark level? I'd unlocked everything playing, first time seeing it.
“Means bastard without a pedigree, huh.”
Curiosity tapped the name for details. I couldn't hide my shock.
Your soul, with no ties to this world, has settled into the body of the utter orphan Kim Taeyang. This rootless flesh and mind form a delirious combo, allowing you to contract any Ancestor Spirit with its consent—without limits.
Breathtaking. Contracts normally had restrictions: blood ties, long rituals post-pedigree swap. Biggest: usually one spirit only.
A trait ignoring all limits?
My mind raced with possibilities. But fleetingly.
“Trait's useless if I can't contract.”
Zero slots. Normally fixed at 1 unless special. Why me zero?
I'd endured civil servant drudgery and injustices, but this contradiction was too much.
“If you're dumping me in a game world, at least give proper powers!”
Delinquent body influencing my mind already? I was yelling, pounding the pillow with fists before I knew it.
“Haa...”
Classes and assignments tomorrow. No spirit? Disaster. Relief from exam faded into new crisis.
“What am I supposed to do?”
But as I rolled in despair—
Beep.
[Trait 'No Genealogy' confirmed (1/1)]
[Challenge complete]
[Contract Slots Available: 0 → 1]
Couldn't believe my eyes. Checked stats—same result.
[Contract Slots Available: 1]
“No way...”
Three lines solved my immediate crisis. More than that.
No Genealogy for unlimited contracts with consent. Ticket boosting slots. More challenges = more tickets?
“I can get strong...”
Endless possibilities. I grabbed clothes and bolted out. Strike while the iron's hot—time to snag a spirit. First target: one from a broken lineage.
* * *
7 PM. I arrived at a rundown shop on the outskirts.
<Second Hand Antiques>
Western antiques specialist, as the sign said. In-game, site of a pitiful soul half-eaten by a predatory villain's devouring power.
“Hello.”
I woke the dozing elderly owner.
“What you hunting for?”
“A cane.”
“Student needing one?”
Brushed it off as an errand; he pointed inside.
“Grandpa must be a sharp dresser.”
As he quipped, the display was flashy: rosewood and ebony carvings, animal-head sculptures.
I ignored them, heading deeper. Stopped at a cardboard box of battered wooden canes, 20,000 won blowout each. Rifling dozens, found my mark.
“Got it.”
X.B. Plain design, initials engraved. ~80cm, thinner than looks, heavier than expected.
“This one.”
Paid and fled. 15 minutes later, home. Unwrapped, examined grip.
“Like this?”
Recalling the cinematic, jabbed needle from my hand between X and B into the dot.
Click. Lock disengaged; grip cracked open. Pulling handle and shaft apart revealed a softly glowing blade.
Yes—a swordstick, assassin weapon hiding slim blade in cane.
“Hey.”
Kiiing!
Greeted my reflection in the polished blade; ghostly cry erupted.
Bam!
Fierce poltergeist. Invisible force hurled me onto the bed.
“Urk...”
Just a hello and this welcome?
Shiiiiek!!
Rubbing sore back rising, smoke from grip coalesced into a distinct form in the air.
A Rootless Man End