Epilogue: Some Gamer (1)

My fingertips felt cold. My body was sluggish, and there was no spark of sensation waking up.

...Of course, that didn't mean I'd gotten any weaker.

I stood atop the clock tower, Barrett MRAD in hand. Beyond the medieval castle landscape, soldiers milled about.

Sniping and dropping every visible enemy brought the chat flooding in.

Humans always deny what they can't comprehend.

I expanded the chat window and typed.

At 27, I was still young.

I relentlessly hunted down the guy who'd typed his last message with grudge-fueled precision.

I captured one base and picked off every reinforcement. My teammates abandoned it to push elsewhere. In the end, we overturned the score and claimed victory.

"Aah! Fun game today too!" I logged off, savoring the users' complaints like a symphony.

Removing the goggles revealed my desk with half-eaten cup ramen. I plopped into the chair and slurped the remaining broth.

Gulp!

"Phew... Already two weeks, huh..."

After that bizarre nightmare at Korea University ended, time flew like an arrow.

I recalled trembling at the news calling me a terrorist.

'Oh my god! What is happening in Korea! Son, always be careful and run from those people! Got it?'

'Y-yeah, got it, Mom. I'll... be careful.'

Mom had cursed the terrorists on the news like they were the scum of the earth.

...She'd faint if she knew her own kid did it.

Luckily, my face never hit the news. Just a middle-aged-looking man and woman, plus a young woman. Reported as the terrorists, per Conel's word. That business card must've been some impression-altering disguise tech.

I'd even imagined getting kidnapped by the NIS after they figured out my secret.

But in the end, nothing happened.

"The business card from Conel. What am I supposed to do with this?"

I pulled out the card hidden among dusty textbooks. "Conel W.A." still sat in my hand.

I hadn't noticed at home, but it must have an expiration or on/off switch. My parents and sister accepted me without issue.

Anyway, after that day, I waited for contact. Private rooms stayed closed. Her number was disconnected.

Somehow... relieved, but also lonely and empty.

Team spirit or something? Who knows.

"Yawn..."

Fatigue hit. With my sleep schedule flipped, soft sunlight filtered through the window.

I flopped onto the bed.

Bzzz!

Vibration ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠from the bed had me reaching out. Probably spam.

I sat up, reading the message. Fatigue vanished instantly.

Thick coat on, baseball cap pulled low. Opening the door, I met Dad's eyes.

"Heading out?"

"Yeah... meeting a friend."

"A friend?"

Dad's face screamed, You have friends? Interior designer eyes were sharp, as always.

"Honey! I told you not to say hurtful things to our son!"

"No, it's fine! I just meant friend... not like that, just parental worry..."

"Lee Hyunwoo."

"...Okay."

Dad surrendered to Mom as usual. I bowed to them and headed out.

"I'm off."

"Take care!"

Familiar déjà vu. Unmanned bus, sky an endless blue. No elders watching porn on high-end goggles.

That made it feel even better.

The café I arrived at was utterly ordinary. Not Cafe Evergreen, not a retro human-run spot.

Through the wide window, a gray-haired girl in a crisp black suit, blue eyes. Conel. The real Conel.

I caught my breath and hit the door open button.

Ding-a-ling!

Sweet coffee scent wafted out. Turning, Conel met my gaze.

"You've arrived."

"Uh... long time no see?"

I approached and sat opposite. Awkward air hung thick. She broke it.

"Um... have you eaten?"

"Not yet...? Was about to sleep, actually."

"Fortunate, then. I ordered drinks and light snacks. Already... coming."

Conel's eyes widened. Never used a modern café before?

"In Germany, this setup would bankrupt you in a day."

"Is that so?"

"No staff? People'd just buy canned coffee."

Feeling the cultural gap anew, I set the serving robot's tray items on the table. Smoothie, espresso. Chocolate cake slice and baumkuchen.

Conel eyed them, starting to speak.

"Esp..."

"Espresso's mine. Was feeling beat."

I snatched the coffee; her cheeks puffed.

"I ordered it to drink..."

"Sorry, didn't sleep. Make do with the sweet smoothie."

"No helping it."

For someone who'd claimed the coffee, Conel looked blissful sipping the smoothie.

I savored the bitter brew and asked.

"So why the café meet? Not another one, right?"

"...If massacres killing thousands happened every two weeks, human society would've collapsed."

"Good thing, then."

"Dessert... Korea's desserts are decent."

She sliced chocolate cake delicately, popping it in. A smile graced the gray-haired beauty's lips. Café patrons stared at her happy munching.

"Seems we're being watched."

"Well... you know why."

"My face? ...B2, how do I look to you?"

"Uh... pretty?"

"Unhelpful. I meant its form. No disguise now."

Her face flushed. My words risked awkwardness again. I pivoted fast, asking about the chatty Asian woman always yapping beside us.

"Shai?"

"Business in China."

"Why contact now?"

"Had to erase traces, naturally. Sorted info exposed during our moves."

Conel explained cleanup: wiping logs, dummy data... Complicated enough to justify the delay.

"Terrorists? Nearly fell over watching the news."

"We reached an agreement."

"Agreement? With who? Korea...?"

She nodded instead.

"Surprisingly simple. They offered decent terms; we accepted."

"So we... look like real terrorists."

Words piled up in my head, but face-to-face, they wouldn't flow. Conel continued, sensing my frustration.

"To prevent further casualties."

"What do you mean?"

"North Korea as the mastermind would rock Korean society. You know—15 years isn't enough to erase division."

"..."

Post-Taepyeongseongdae, countless North Koreans integrated. No issues? Lies.

"Surface reason, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of course. Some groups see death as negotiation. Our goodwill ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠reads differently to them."

"Hm..."

"A wary nation showed cooperation post-incident, enabling the deal."

"...Complicated."

"Heh, yes, quite."

Headache brewing, I grabbed something sweet. Might as well ask the minor stuff.

"Venom too? Made-up, right?"

"Real. Antisocial elements make convenient cover. Yokes can be fine tools."

"..."

Er... speechless. So being real terrorists was fine?

Impudent thought, but Conel pulled papers from her briefcase.

"Curious about the terrorists... North Korea? I can show docs."

"No, it's fin—wait, lemme see."

Shoved in my face, no refusing. She seemed eager to explain.

Reading revealed the commander's tale—family lost to Taepyeongseongdae.

"Hm... Sympathy, but can't buy it all."

"Not everyone repays pain on others. Fair take."

As I read on, Conel shared unpapered details.

"More important: We talked briefly facing the commander."

"That time? What'd he say?"

"Asked for escape help."

Surprising. Broadcast showed fervent mission zeal.

"...Acting?"

"Might've ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠been ordered."

"Huh? What?"

"Man who herded terrorists into hell, then thought only of himself at end. Could such a selfish guy lead mass terror?"