Chapter 413
Chapter 413
There was a phenomenon that occurred every time a colleague awakened.
Pain.
Clutching one's head, staggering, feeling dizziness or a throbbing agony in the temples as a flood of memories came rushing back.
Something similar happened to me.
The problem was that it was overlapping more than twenty times over.
‘Damn it.’
Recalling the last thing I saw—the almost depleted Fame Points—I felt a searing pain in my head, as if it were on fire.
Even though my body had dissolved, the fact that I could still feel pain made me realize that the bizarre, skeletal world had all been a show.
And then, the memories poured in... like a dam bursting.
—...!
Parents, accident, fire, school, camera, puppy, studio apartment, grades, heating, relatives, school trip, debut, data, workbooks...
Layer upon layer, the past hammered against the inside of my skull like an echo.
‘Fuck.’
My stomach churned as if I were about to vomit.
But it wasn't without its harvest.
‘Ah.’
As I thought.
I smiled bitterly as I confirmed the sight of my father, an office worker, and my mother, an academy instructor.
...It was good that it was clear.
Next, memories of Gold 2 slammed into my head, threatening to shatter it.
Kwon Hee-seung.
—Ah... seriously, my life!
He was a positive guy who lived life to the fullest.
Of course, it didn't stop there. The shock of awakening overlapped again and again... reaching even further back.
‘Ugh.’
It felt like my internal organs were twisting, but my mind was sharp, as if it were in a literal state of "Awakening."
And just as I was dizzily retracing the image of Park Moon-dae waking up in that dingy motel after collapsing from sleeping pills for the umpteenth time...
Click.
Finally, the overflowing stream of memories rewound to the point before the film had cut out.
The life I had forgotten right before I entered Park Moon-dae’s body.
When I encountered Park Moon-dae sitting in front of some motel on my way back from the library.
—Thank you... Hyung.
Even up to that point, there wasn't much of a change. It was just a retelling of the scene I had seen in the final "Truth Verification," now becoming my own memory.
The problem was the few years that had completely evaporated from my mind.
The period after the civil service exam.
—I look forward to working with you.
Having given up on exam prep and found a job, I was being ground down at a decent mid-sized company with no real vision.
I think I did my job well enough, but that was it. There was a hell of a lot to do, and every day was spent processing inefficiently assigned tasks until late at night.
A life that allowed no way, no leisure, and no financial stability to relieve stress.
Then, I developed a quick and simple habit to distract myself from the headaches.
Something I could watch in short bursts, that cost no extra money, and was a field I knew well because it was deeply related to the work I used to do for money.
‘Idols.’
Before bed, I would just watch whatever caught my eye on video sites. It was useful because it didn't require a single ounce of energy.
It wasn't that I felt any particular inspiration from the content itself. I wasn't a data seller anymore, so there was no need to analyze anything.
It just felt good to feel like I was doing something else.
And then, I happened to see this group.
The group that had originally debuted in <Re-listing! Idol Inc.>.
Not TeSTAR, but STier.
[STier – ‘Launch’ Official MV]
Due to a messy drug trial involving a departing member, rumors of discord, and a fractured individual fandom, they only managed to make a comeback every once in a while by the time I started working.
Still, there was no reversal.
The group had already stopped growing; they were stagnant.
[STier’s Cha Yu-jin, Kim Rae-bin, and Ryu Cheong-woo to Begin Unit Activities]
Eventually, more than half the members halted their activities.
The remaining three were promoting as a unit, but the atmosphere wasn't great. The albums sold reasonably well and the songs were good, but that was it.
Their image was already charred from endless controversies, and public favor had been gnawed away to the bone.
There was no more buzz, no more growth.
They were just a massive cruise ship slowly sinking, kept afloat only by the sheer mass they had built up during Aju-sa.
—The song is decent.
—They’re still good. Fighting.
The reactions ended with a few mild comments.
Compared to their debut, the bubble had already burst.
However.
Without even realizing it, I narrowed my broad, aimless viewing range down to these guys.
Instead... I went deeper.
It wasn't that I became interested in them as individuals or developed a special fan heart. I just found myself looking them up reflexively.
Perhaps it was because their situation seemed similar to mine.
A problem of the overall situation.
A situation where no matter what you did, a rebound was practically impossible, and there were no sharp answers or clever moves left.
A life running just to maintain the status quo.
‘The environment itself is terrible.’
Investment was down, and the planning and care were pathetic, typical of a rushed new agency.
Despite that, the way they consistently showed up and performed through gritted teeth strangely caught my eye.
And suddenly, I felt it was a waste.
‘Me?’
I soon forgot about it, telling myself I had enough on my own plate. Nevertheless, it was the first time I had checked on an idol group so intensely for such a long period.
Of course, it didn't last.
A while later.
[STier Concludes Activities... "We Want to Convey Our Gratitude and Love"]
Naturally, STier disbanded the moment their five-year contract ended.
Perhaps because I hadn't seen anything good from the beginning through the process to the end, even the few members who worked particularly hard had no further news.
That was the conclusion.
That nothing remained.
“…….”
After that, my brief hobby of watching idols ended.
‘There’s nothing to watch.’
By then, watching other idols didn't evoke the same feeling anyway.
It was funny. To think that even that sense of release had vanished thanks to a group I hadn't even gone to photograph myself, a group I wasn't even a fan of.
And then, that life ended as scheduled by me, who felt exhausted and bothered by everything to a suspicious degree.
That brief reprieve vanished from my memory just like that.
Because I entered Park Moon-dae’s body in a state where I was even confused about who was debuting.
‘But, perhaps a trace remained.’
I suddenly recalled.
The thought I had the moment I woke up in Park Moon-dae’s body.
—At one point, I was even pointlessly over-invested in this field.
‘...Was I?’
Even though I had no specific memory of it, the reason I felt that way instinctively must have been a remnant of that time.
I lifted my head.
The reason this memory wasn't shown even in the Truth Verification must be because the System omitted it arbitrarily.
It probably wasn't even out of some grand intention. It likely thought the content had little to do with my trauma.
It cut it out because it deemed it ‘not necessary for the host’s continued survival.’
Even Keun-dal probably couldn't have predicted this.
‘So.’
The System still doesn't seem to know that there are memories that affect a person's mind even if they aren't traumatic.
‘People usually call those memories.’
I let out a hollow laugh at the cheesy sentence.
The pain in my head had subsided before I knew it. It was proof that the memories had fully settled.
My head was clear.
Originally, I had hoped that clearing out all the bullshit the System had pulled on my mind might let me escape its control entirely, but it wasn't quite that much.
‘At least I avoided losing my mind and becoming a server.’
That was enough. Preparations for Plan B were complete.
‘Keun-dal.’
I gave the signal.
As if it had been waiting, the chat began.
[Apple has been invited to ‘Error’s Gold Chat Room.]
[Error: Moon-dae, are you okay?]
The error unaffected by the System, Seon A-hyun, reacted immediately.
I typed into the chat.
[Apple: Yeah. I’m going to do it now.]
Recalling the meeting we had in this chat room to prepare for a potential leak.
—Apple: As you all know, unnecessary reactions are forbidden.
And this idea had started from an opinion Seon A-hyun had voiced.
—Error: Um... since I’m an error, does that mean I infect anyone who enters this chat room like a virus?
—Error: Then, couldn't we use this to return everyone else to normal too?
—RAB: That is a truly altruistic and wonderful idea, but I worry that contacting everyone would be difficult due to constraints of time and space.
—Sejini: For starters, inviting people costs Gold, so it seems unlikely ㅠㅠ
It was a moment when Seon A-hyun’s opinion seemed like it would fall through.
—Tiger: Can’t we infect the whole world instead of just one person? Like a virus!
This guy’s random comment had hit the bullseye.
‘Originally, I was going to take this myself after escaping the System for a moment and shove it into the game through the GM.’
But it seemed I didn't need to go that far. The guy who was the "whole world" of this place happened to be right there.
The System.
[Character: Ryu Gun-woo (Park Moon-dae) has broken away!]
Just as Seon A-hyun had done in the timeline frozen by the GM, I was able to move my body thanks to the effect of being connected to the chat room.
“...!”
I fixed my gaze on the two figures facing off—the two versions of Cheong-ryeo.
‘The one without color.’
The final step was action.
In the chat window filled with errors, I invited him.
‘Can you target him?’
Soon, with a static-filled sound, Keun-dal responded from the chat room.
[Keun-dal: Yes!]
Good.
Soon, text appeared in the chat window.
[■■■ has been invited to ‘Error’s Gold Chat Room.]
‘Yes!’
I clenched my fist. At this rate...
‘Ah.’
At that moment, the System turned its eyes toward me.
A new message appeared in the chat room.
[■■■: So you prepared something like this.]
“...!”
Static.
Cracks appeared in the chat room.
The window trembled violently as if enduring immense pressure, and then...
Pop!
It shattered completely.
Translucent hologram dust scattered and vanished along with a glitch.
The System’s voice echoed.
[You used Fame Points for this again.]
[Right before becoming a server, thank you.]
That statement in this situation... could it be?
I opened my trembling mouth.
“Is Fame Exp... the energy you collect?”
The System nodded with a kind smile.
[That’s right.]
[By spending Fame Points, you pay energy to me and become stronger in the game.]
The System’s voice grew louder.
[And this world becomes more solid. So that attacks from the outside won't work.]
The chat room was gone.
In a world where the error had been resolved, the System smiled and stared at me instead of Cheong-ryeo.
[You weren't a player, but a character. You have no autonomy to leave the game.]
“…….”
The identity of the player who had been labeled as ‘■■■’ in Cheong-ryeo’s GM status window.
[I am the player.]
[I am the creator and the player, and you are a component of my game.]
[There is no game where a character can directly harm the player.]
The System finished its explanation and nodded.
[And now that the System has been proven stable, there is no need for auxiliary tools.]
[Let’s proceed as planned.]
Then, for the first time, a hint of something human appeared in its eyes.
Having assimilated with Cheong-ryeo and learned his core desire at the time, what the System possessed was...
An obsession with progress and perfection.
[Now.]
The guy casually took my status window.
And he tore something out. It was a gentle touch, yet powerful enough to seem brutal.
No, to be precise... he tore out the thing itself.
The entire popup that Keun-dal displayed.
[Wait...]
And he swallowed it into his palm.
“……!”
Keun-dal’s popup vanished near his fingers, crumpled.
[I’ve reclaimed it.]
The System smiled softly.
And I...
Smiled back.
“Hey.”
I gasped, catching the breath I’d been holding.
The reason I had pushed and pushed to provoke this guy’s sense of superiority and victory to bring the situation this far.
“That guy is an error, too.”
It was to make sure he couldn't pay close attention.
To prevent him from noticing that Keun-dal had also accessed the chat room and been infected by the error.
Think about it.
‘This bastard originally parasitized one person.’
And Keun-dal guaranteed that he couldn't use someone he’d already used once.
But this time, since there was no suitable candidate nearby to latch onto, he had no choice but to recycle.
So he grabbed three people at once, turned them into brains in vats, and created a whole new virtual world.
Server, Administrator, Character.
That’s probably why it operated stably, but thanks to that, the days when he could solve everything alone were over.
Because it was structured, it could collapse just by one foundation stone being pulled out. Like now.
“You just turned yourself into an error.”
[……!]
The System’s form wavered.
The anomaly that started as a small glitch grew in size, swallowing the human shape and spreading to the surroundings.
The world was collapsing from the inside.
Thump!
“Hmm.”
The real Cheong-ryeo, who had been standing still, turned his head and pulled up a status window.
“Interesting.”
[Player: Park Moon-dae (Ryu Gun-woo)]
In the midst of it, the System’s appearance changed.
[...Hyung.]
It was a familiar sight.
It was the guy I had talked to in my mind while returning to Park Moon-dae’s body at some point.
Noise sparked from the mysterious hologram that was a mix of Ryu Gun-woo and Park Moon-dae.
Static.
Keun-dal, having taken form, raised both hands and shouted.
[I... I think I can actually move this??]
It worked.