Investment 2: The Mechanical Dream
Soul World was a game full of branching choices. What that meant was that decision points split off in real time based on my selections, with the consequences rippling far into the future.
If the academy collapse incident down the line marked the end of an episode, then countless events unfolded within that episode. Key ones that influenced the story included Lord's poisoning. Fail to resolve it, and the story got exponentially harder. Others involved steadily building affinity with Kara to resolve Tatar's future crisis, or ensuring Ellie's survival—she had a bad habit of vanishing into thin air, enough to shatter the game's balance.
Choices you might breeze past could swing back like a massive hammer to crack your skull, or spawn utterly unforeseen crises.
"Ah, no. Was it too sudden? I should've asked to talk first...!"
The glasses girl fumbling in front of me right now—Jane Brennon—was a perfect example. Nicknamed "the poor man's Iron Man," she was a surefire stock on the rise. In other words, she was a student with zero connections at the moment.
Second year, right?
I knew the basics since she was pretty important. Name was Jane Brennon, as she'd introduced herself. Hailing from Santia, the nation of machines and science. Her status was flat-out commoner, oddly mismatched with her intellectual looks. True to her nickname, she was a genius scientist in mechanical engineering. But like all tragic prodigies, the professors dismissed her theories, leaving her stalled out.
"C-can we talk for a bit? I didn't explain properly in my rush, but please, give me a chance!"
"Yeah."
"...Huh?"
She blinked in confusion when I agreed so readily, looking more flustered than before. Her slipping glasses only amplified the awkward vibe.
To think this girl turns villain later. Wild.
Where Ellie needed attention to dodge her death flags, Jane cranked up the game's difficulty outright. Even if I turned her down now, she'd find an investor eventually—but that backer was a total scumbag. He'd steal all her research and claim it as his own. Normally, she'd kill herself, but instead, Jane flipped to the demons for revenge.
"What to explain?"
"Ah? Oh, yes! L-let's move somewhere first!"
She hastily adjusted her glasses and started leading the way. Despite her looks, she radiated full-on nerd energy. Her rumpled shirt screamed poverty, though her chest was anything but lacking. She could scrape by day-to-day, but funding her dreams? No dice.
"Wait. Ice cream first."
"P-pardon?"
"I'll buy some."
"Yes! Take your time—I'll wait!"
Man, she was intense. All these stares were getting awkward. I grabbed two chocolate ice creams from the usual vendor—one for her, obviously.
By the time I returned to where we'd met, she was pacing anxiously. Probably bracing for rejection. Not my plan, though.
Anyone overhearing this would think I was about to ditch her.
Jane's personality was brutally straightforward—she couldn't beat around the bush. Similar to Ellie in that way, but Jane felt stiffer, more rigid. Maybe because we weren't close yet. Truth was, her real character was remarkable in all sorts of ways.
"Here."
"Yes!"
She snatched the ice cream with eager enthusiasm. My battered, filth-streaked appearance might've given anyone pause, but she didn't bat an eye. I handed it off, then summoned Ragnarok into my empty palm.
"Where to?"
"O-over there, the bench..."
She licked her ice cream and pointed to one in the square. Normally you'd hit a café or eatery, but given my state, bench it was.
"I'd love a café, but... no money. Sorry."
Ah, straight-up broke. They said true poverty meant not even affording coffee—and damn if it wasn't real. She wanted to treat me right but couldn't. I pitied her rags-to-riches struggle. Wondered how she'd survived this long.
Clunk.
We sat on the square bench, and I set Ragnarok beside me. Jane seemed to be psyching herself up for what to say. I'd just devour my ice cream till she started. The heat made it extra tasty.
"Nom nom nom nom."
"..."
This girl ate ice cream like it was a full meal. Not dainty licks—big, greedy chomps. Even I felt secondhand embarrassment.
No way she'd been deprived of snacks this basic, right?
"So good... It's been forever since I had ice cream..."
Yeah, better drop the poverty talk. The academy provided basics, but just that—pocket money meant hustling. Ellie and Luna dove into the forest weekly for cash back then. Not an option now, though. And Jane's mechanical engineering gig? She probably knew zilch about herbs. Part-time gigs to scrape by, most like.
"Ahem. May I explain now?"
"Yeah."
"Thank you. What do you think of machines, Sivar?"
Starting there, huh. I met her gaze with my usual blank stare. Most folks wouldn't overthink machines—they were everywhere in this world.
"Ah, no—of course you wouldn't know...?"
The issue was me. Rumors of the wildman freshly civilized had spread academy-wide. That's why she hesitated. Silence would drag this out, and I'd been "civilized" long enough to give a basic answer.
"Convenient."
"Pardon?"
"Makes life easier."
"Ahh! Yes! Exactly! Machines do that!"
My short take got her nodding furiously. Then came the flood: mana trains this, guns that, endless praise. Her homeland Santia was a science powerhouse, so it poured out naturally.
"I love those machines and want to advance them. What I envision is aiding weak bodies! Like..."
Her pitch boiled down to powered exosuits and mechanical prosthetics. Peak fantasy overtech. You might question it after seeing the arena's illusions and gear—why chase that ideal?
But those leaned heavy on magic. This world manifested spells via words. Like AI whipping up art on command, magic handled tons; engineering just assisted. Even advanced Santia fused the two for explosive progress, not shunning magic outright.
"You might say 'but we have magic'—and sure, but that's not my goal. I want the weak to grow strong through machines! I can prove it!"
She rattled it off in a thrill, glasses sparkling with blue-eyed fervor. I knew the future: she'd make it real. To an outsider? Delusional nonsense. Costly, too. No investors bit on the uncertainty; professors ignored her. Reality.
Leave her be, and you'd see demons with cannons grafted on.
The protagonist gleefully chainsaw'd demons in the game, but Jane's love for power tools shone in her dark future inventions. Straight out of that arsenal. Shudder-worthy, especially bomb-strapped red imps wreaking havoc.
"Um... not interested?"
She asked timidly while I pondered. No reaction from me had her shrinking.
I shook my head to reassure her. How could I not be hooked? Too ambitious, sure, but fund it and she'd deliver.
"Am."
"R-really?"
"Yeah. Curious."
"Th-then the investment..."
Good pitch, but money talk hushed her. In the game, she begged desperately; here, more reserved. Glancing around nervously—probably because others had approached me too. Proof her heart was pure. Her villain turn? Utterly justified.
"...Pardon, but do you know how vital money is, Sivar?"
"Yeah."
"Then you know not to toss it at strangers?"
"Yeah."
"B-but why..."
Clutching at straws, now second-guessing. But I had to fund her now for the connection. I pressed while she wavered.
"How much?"
"Pardon?"
"Money. How much?"
"W-well, to prove the theory... about 10,000 silver..."
10,000 silver was a million won. Steep for commoners, fair for nobles. And it proved her genius—world-changing innovation for pocket change. Normally, contracts galore, but I trusted her not to screw me.
I stood.
"Let's go."
"G-go? Where...?"
"Bank. I'll pay."
"R-really?! Th-then a contract first...!"
"Later."
Cash first, details after. I shoved the rest of my ice cream in my mouth and headed off. Jane scrambled up, trotting after me with a mix of worry and hope—adorably innocent.
"Y-you're really giving it to me? No background, no ties?"
"Yeah."
"Wh-why? What vision do you see?"
I know what you unleash in the future. Gotta stop you arming demons. The truth welled up, but my piss-poor speech kept it caged.
"Just."
"Just?"
"Looks fun."
Who knew I'd drop chaos like that? But it fit—no better words.
Jane gaped, fish-mouthed, her slipped glasses adding doofus charm. Not empty flattery, either—her future gadgets would fuel every guy's fantasies.
"Me too."
"To you as well...?"
"Yeah."
Her face twisted odder. Heart must be churning. I let her stew and marched to the bank. First, withdraw.
"Sorry, Sivar. No account book, no withdrawal."
"Ah."
Passbook first. Lize had it—how to snag? Told Jane to wait, headed to the dorm. Quick wash-up too. Lize was off training, perfect window.
"Brother Sivar. Where to with the passbook?"
"..."
"Need money? Tell me—I'll give it."
Busted instantly. I'd muffled my steps—how? I rolled my eyes like a kid caught raiding mom's wallet. How to convince Lize? Had to fund Jane.
"Mechanical arm."
"Mechanical arm?"
"Yeah."
What slipped out:
"Pay 10k, it's mine."
"...How much?"
"Ten thousand."
"..."
Luna-level slip. She'd roast me. But Lize's response? Night and day.
"Yes. Go."
"For real?"
"Yes. Fine."
Doubting, I eyed her. In her Kwonseong mode, she smiled mercy itself—then dropped a bone-chilling line.
"You need this lesson once."
"..."
Why'd that one maple game scam flash in my mind?