Chapter 561
Chapter 561
Drip.
A drop of liquid hits the back of his hand.
‘…?’
Without moving a muscle, Cheong-ryeo lowered only his gaze to look at his hand. A truly transparent droplet had burst into tiny, scattered fragments.
‘Where did it come from?’
He tried to lift his head to trace its path or raise his hand to examine the result more closely.
But nothing went according to his will.
‘…….’
His body wouldn't move.
‘Why?’
He didn't panic. He simply tried to immerse himself in thought, calmly attempting to deduce the cause.
Right then, another drop fell onto the back of his hand.
Drip.
The moment Cheong-ryeo witnessed the process for himself, he finally realized.
It was...
Cold sweat he had shed himself.
[The Incarnation of the Idol gazes upon you.]
[The Incarnation of the Idol gazes upon you.]
[The Incarnation of the Idol gazes upon you.]
[The Incarnation of the Idol gazes upon you.]
From the empty air...
A feast of gazes descended like a crushing weight, paralyzing his entire body from all directions and exerting a terrible pressure.
His physical form refused any attempt to look up and meet them.
‘Ah.’
The mind is an appendage of the body.
In that sense, unlike his mind, which had built a deep and vast abyss over a long time, his body—barely in its early twenties—felt an instinctive threat.
From somewhere far above, someone was looking down at him.
Something superior was scrutinizing him, searching through every corner of his being.
Himself.
[-------]
Above all the windows, a single massive sentence rose like the moon surfacing over the water.
[The Incarnation of the Idol is satisfied.]
Then, as if it were all a lie, everything vanished.
Whoosh.
Air rushed into the space where the suffocating tension had suddenly evaporated.
The sound of his own breathing finally began to reach his ears.
And then, a voice.
“Sunbae-nim. By any chance, did you miss the timing for some medication you need to take…?”
“No.”
Cheong-ryeo smoothly withdrew his hand from the table. The moisture fell, tracing a path.
“…….”
He turned his head to check the time.
‘67 minutes.’
For over an hour, he had been held captive by that bizarre gaze. Amidst a pressure so chillingly intense that he hadn't even perceived the passage of time.
He slowly wiped away the byproduct of his own body from the back of his hand.
He thought.
What on earth was that, and why did it appear?
He couldn't understand the mechanics, but one clear connection came to mind.
‘Help.’
Because it had appeared in the same empty space where the Help Menu usually manifested whenever he called for it.
However, it didn't feel friendly or personal like the Help Menu. It was a cold gaze, too indifferent to be called hostility.
Overwhelming.
Cheong-ryeo slowly closed and opened his eyes.
What was its purpose?
‘Searching.’
It had been looking into him. As if to confirm something. And…
‘An expression of intent covering the void.’
It was a warning.
“…….”
Cheong-ryeo made a cold judgment.
‘Is it telling me not to call for Help?’
It was a rational deduction, as it had appeared as if responding in Help's stead the moment he called for it.
He turned his head to look at his Help, who was still leaning against the table, unconscious.
What was the connection?
Is it something I need to find out?
Cheong-ryeo tapped the table slowly.
Perhaps due to the pressure of the last 67 minutes, his fingertips were still slightly numb.
A shock like this…
“It’s been a while.”
“Pardon?”
Cheong-ryeo didn't answer.
He felt that this particular restart had an unusually high number of new variables appearing.
It was irritating that new elements were still surfacing after repeating this for so long, but Cheong-ryeo was even accustomed to that.
Including the fact that anything could be resolved if learned through repetition.
“Hmm.”
And so, it was the moment he lifted his head, about to call for Help once more.
Cheong-ryeo’s gaze froze in mid-air.
“…….”
It was gone.
The popup asking if he wanted to delete Help.
[!Unauthorized Error Occurred]
[Would you like to remove the Status Window (■■■)?]
Even that red error removal window, which always appeared alongside Help, had vanished from his sight as if it had melted away.
As if Help no longer existed.
Inside the system.
Phew.
Park Moon-dae let out a deep breath and approached the terminal.
The inside of the system was still silent, with nothing there. Only that single terminal drifted alone in the center like a desert island.
The few terminals he had created were on the surface of the system, so they weren't visible.
In fact, he remembered feeling a chill occasionally because of that, but he had tried his best not to dwell on it.
‘You’ve worked hard.’
He could now acknowledge that fact peacefully. He had enough mental strength to be okay with it.
Park Moon-dae thought it was likely thanks to the Blessing Seon A-hyun had given him.
Even though he couldn't see their popups once he connected here, the effects seemed to remain.
‘It might just be a placebo, but…’
That was fine too. He gave a small smirk and reached out toward the terminal.
The completion of the analysis was just around the corner.
If Keun-dal had been the one working here instead of him, he might not have struggled this much. But as a layman, he had done his absolute best.
He clung to the terminal again and began to struggle to uncover its contents.
Diligently, calmly.
‘…….’
What was unexpected, however, was that even after quite some time had passed, the interference he anticipated didn't come.
‘I thought he might call me soon.’
When he worked on the terminal like this, he was usually summoned once every two or three times.
Cheong-ryeo used to call for Help quite often.
So, since he had connected so openly this time, he thought the man might interfere by calling him repeatedly… but strangely, it was very quiet.
‘Of course, I was planning to ignore him this time no matter what he called me for.’
It was actually better this way.
Park Moon-dae stopped his stray thoughts and resolved to focus on the terminal again.
He made contact with the terminal.
At the very beginning, the status window-style sentence Park Moon-dae had first discovered in this terminal was still floating there.
[Reboot Initiated]
—Learning in progress.
It was the phrase he had seen right before he was dragged in here.
And until now, Park Moon-dae had been trying to find the source of ‘why’ this sentence was being outputted.
‘I thought knowing the reason would be a clue.’
It was a journey to find a sort of database.
And now, the end was in sight.
‘Let’s do this.’
Closing his eyes conceptually, he delved into the terminal, searching for the origin as if climbing up a nerve.
Information… information…
Having reached the point he explored last time, if he delicately dug further up…!
Snap.
He caught it.
‘I did… it!’
Park Moon-dae gritted his teeth and finally pulled the database he had seized out of the terminal.
It felt like his non-existent palms would tear from the resistance, but he ignored it. Then, he formed a new terminal to display that database.
It wasn't that difficult anymore.
‘Good.’
He exhaled, feeling a sense of accomplishment that was almost euphoria.
The database status window that finally revealed itself was…
[Learning History]
—Will to Survive
—Negotiation
—Confirming the Holder’s Wish
—Rapid Adaptation
“…….”
It looked like a list of traits.
It was a format familiar to Park Moon-dae.
‘It’s similar to the Trait Gacha roulette.’
It looked like the roulette window he used to see back when he used the system frequently, where the traits he could randomly draw would appear in a list.
Reflexively, he clicked on one.
—Will to Survive
: A biological instinct to do whatever it takes to survive as an entity.
/ Acquired through the start of the Reboot.
It was similar this time too. A description followed, just like when he clicked a trait to look at it in detail.
And considering the explanation at the bottom about ‘how it was acquired’ and the fact that the title of this entire list was ‘Learning History’…
‘Does this mean the system has been learning this all this time?’
It meant that while performing this ‘Reboot,’ the system had been learning these things.
Park Moon-dae scanned the list with a sour feeling.
Survival, negotiation, wish, adaptation…
‘Aren't these all attributes this bastard already had?’
Isn't that the system's species trait, like a cockroach?
The things he had suffered through so exhaustingly until now were written there exactly as they were.
Usually, a reboot is done to supplement deficiencies and create a new product, but it felt like he was listening to the same old song on repeat.
‘Hmm.’
It was a bit of a disappointing sight. It didn't seem like much of a clue.
Of course, he had no intention of giving up.
‘Should I analyze the terminal further from here?’
It was the moment he groaned, feeling like he was running out of time.
Suddenly, a final line was added to the ‘Learning History’ window.
Ding.
—Longing for the Source
Park Moon-dae clicked it reflexively.
—Longing for the Source
: A desire to reach the essence by any means through persistent analysis and development.
‘What…….’
It wouldn't have been strange to think that this, too, was an attribute the system originally possessed.
‘It said all sorts of nonsense using idols as an excuse.’
Park Moon-dae lowered his gaze with a look of disillusionment.
Below it, as before, was the explanation of how this was learned…
/ Acquired by analyzing the terminal.
‘…?’
That was… exactly what Park Moon-dae was doing right now.
Even the expression ‘terminal’ was something he had coined.
“…….”
A chill ran down his spine.
His mind felt like it was spinning at full speed.
Somewhere… a nagging, ominous, strange feeling as if he were about to realize something…
‘……!’
No way.
Park Moon-dae hurriedly clicked on the other learning histories.
And he began to read only the explanations at the very bottom…
/ Acquired through conversation with the holder.
/ Acquired amidst the threat of deletion.
/ Acquired while adapting to a new environment.
The subject was hidden in these words.
And that subject was…
‘It’s me.’
It was Park Moon-dae.
The situations he had experienced since crash-landing in this strange place were organized and listed in system-like terms.
Doing his best to survive in this bizarre situation, trying to negotiate with Cheong-ryeo who held the system, being deleted, trying to adapt to a new body…
Park Moon-dae stared into the terminal in a shock that felt like being struck over the head.
[Learning History]
The system was learning through Park Moon-dae.
It was acquiring his actions, now that he had become the status window, as its own.
That’s why the Reboot…
‘No.’
Park Moon-dae realized the logic was flawed.
‘The system is already that kind of bastard, so what is there to learn?’
So the learning, the learning…
‘…….’
He just had to change the subject.
‘Was the one who learned… me?’
Park Moon-dae realized.
It wasn't that the system learned Park Moon-dae’s way of acting.
It was that Park Moon-dae had learned the system’s way of acting.
The moment he finally completed that sentence, which left no gaps in logic.
—Learning Complete.
The terminal changed.
The moment Park Moon-dae confirmed it with trembling vision.
[System Reboot]
His vision turned pitch black.
It’s dark.
What was I doing?
‘Probably…….’
It didn't seem like a big deal. There probably wouldn't be any major problems. I had that hunch.
‘Hmm.’
Somehow, I wasn't even scared anymore. I immersed myself comfortably in the space as if stretching.
This moment felt even more cozy thanks to the faint feeling that I had been very uncomfortable just a moment ago.
‘What is it?’
I didn't particularly want to use my brain. But well, if I were to take a guess…
‘I think someone said they were going to do something.’
Right.
I seemed to be waiting for something. I nodded and drifted again in the empty space.
‘…….’
For some reason, my thoughts seemed to be getting slower and slower.
That was fine too. Without any resistance, I would wait for the Reboot just like this in this insane space with no light or sound.
‘Reboot?’
Anyway, there was something like that. It was a good thing.
I felt it was time to stop thinking…
[ ]
Then.
A small line appeared in the void.
[ - ]
It didn't glow like a hologram. It was just a translucent line floating in the air.
However, the line gradually grew longer. Then, its corners met, creating a small shape.
A rectangular frame.
‘……A popup.’
I watched it as if possessed.
Above it, white letters appeared.
[Junior.]
Inside the system, where the popups of the friends who gave their blessings couldn't enter.
No, in the place I thought was like that, a popup was quietly rising.
[Junior.]
It was a familiar title.
The one I knew, the one who didn't restart, the one who raised a dog.
‘…Cheong-ryeo.’
It was the title Shin Jae-hyun used to call him.