The Happy Home

I stood on a small raft, gazing out at the dark elf legion rising from the sea. This was the Stage 5 boss. Dozens of ships converged from every direction. Been a while since I fought dark elves.

A year inside the [Replicated World]. Conquering the vast ocean without the Equator had been no easy task. I lost many zombies in the process—monkeys, dark elves, bulls, and more. Those that failed to adapt sank beneath the waves and were culled. In their place came aquatic creatures. Sea spiders that walked on water, great white sharks that chewed through steel, anglerfish lurking in the deep. All sorts of new zombies joined my ranks. Because of them, the sea was no longer an unfavorable battlefield for me. What others found inconvenient, I now treated as just another domain.

Giant tentacles slammed down and shattered elven decks. Sharks tore into hulls from below. Amphibious zombies climbed aboard and hurled enemies into the sea. The Stage 5 boss was slaughtered without mercy. No need for me to step in.

Less than thirty minutes later, a message I hadn’t seen in a long time appeared on my phone.

Tomorrow the zombies’ skin will be nice and soft. I chuckled and pressed the confirmation button. A white radiance enveloped my body. Shhh—

When I opened my eyes, I was sitting in a small room. It resembled Stage 1, yet this was clearly a different space. For one thing, it was bright. Both left and right sides were pure white. My body wasn’t glued to a chair either—that was another difference. But some things remained the same.

Clack—Roll, roll— The sound of dice rolling echoed through my skull. If I stayed idle too long, those dice would randomly decide my “direction.” Users who obtained strange abilities like Cha Uyoon’s had probably transcended through that very process. Not choosing a direction became a direction in itself.

First things first. I muttered quietly, “Success Myth, I have a question.”

“Where did the cat go?” I had spent a year in the [Replicated World]. Success Myth had conversed with me normally there, matching my time flow. That meant their time passed much slower than ours. In other words, Death’s Cat had been missing from that world for at least a year—possibly longer.

“Sealed…?”

From experience, Success Myth took no one’s side. It was a massive interest group formed by numerous sponsors. When they said they couldn’t tell me, it ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠meant the information would harm the group’s interests. They wouldn’t lie to me or toy with me.

Sealed, huh… In short, they were saying Death’s Cat was currently unable to form contracts. And there was no telling how long that would last.

“Fine. I’ll contract with you again. But can you still offer me attractive rewards at this point?”

A sponsor’s laughter echoed.

Within Stage 6… They never spoke useless words or anything that would harm the group. This was clearly an attempt to give me some information related to this stage.

I waved my hand dismissively. “No need for hints. I’ll open the door to the sky anyway. Just proceed with the contract.”

“The usual.”

At the same time, countless lines of text began scrolling rapidly before my eyes. Over a hundred alerts filled my vision. In total, the difficulty had risen 131 times.

I cleared away the unnecessary alerts. Only two mattered. First, the special system unique to Stage 6.

Stage 6 was called the Library of the Sky. Beyond this room lay countless bookshelves. Right, left, up, down—no matter which direction I went, it was a vast library with no end in sight even after days of walking. The books within were the core of this stage. Each volume contained a single story. The basic strategy of Stage 6 was to mix those stories with what I already possessed and twist them. In that sense, I was a borrower—someone who pulled information from the shelves and made it my own. But I was not an invited guest. To the residents here, I was nothing more than a thief or a nuisance disturbing the shelves. That was why the librarians hunted us. No one knew what happened if you were caught; no one had ever shared such a record on the community boards. The number of librarians deployed when difficulty wasn’t raised was one. After that, one additional librarian appeared for every three difficulty increases. Most users simply moved on without ever encountering them in this enormous library. By that calculation, I should have had forty-four librarians assigned. Yet the number displayed was ■. I was very likely to meet them. That meant every user who had encountered a librarian was a veteran who had raised the difficulty. And still, there were no eyewitness accounts. Their strength must be considerable.

Well… I’ll find out when I meet them.

Then came the next alert—the most important part of raising difficulty: the [Events].

Events here were not fixed. Because there were countless stories, each one held a different event waiting for me. Inserting a medium carrying information into [Blank] would automatically trigger an appropriate event. In a way, it was an [Event] buffet.

Time to go read some books?

On a whim, I summoned Baengnae because this space resembled Stage 1. She looked around as soon as she appeared. “Baengnae knows this place.”

“It’s different. See that door over there? You open it.”

Baengnae, now much larger than before, grabbed the doorknob. Stage 1 came to mind—the long journey that began with a small zombie hunting dwarves. Creaaak— We stepped into a new story world. A world filled with even more food.

Unlike the bright room, the space beyond the door was dark. It looked like a cramped, old bookstore one might stumble into along a country road. The smell of aged paper filled the air. The aisles between bookshelves were barely wide enough for one person to pass. Wooden stairs leading to other floors stood here and there on the floor and ceiling.

Starts in a bookstore, huh?

Like the other stages, the Library of the Sky was divided into many zones. Some areas were so narrow only one person could squeeze through, while others stretched endlessly wide. Baengnae, looking around, picked up a book. It was a picture book children would like. The cover of The Happy Home showed a yellow sun and a red house. In front of it stood two black humanoid silhouettes—one resembling Baengnae, the other me.

“Shall we try this one as a warm-up?”

“Okay.”

I opened the book. What lesson will The Happy Home teach us? We were sucked into the story.

Crunch— Crunch— Baengnae’s target was the apple tree drawn on the cover of The Happy Home. A brown scribble in the corner. The moment she entered the story, she ran to the tree and picked two apples. When I declined, she shoved both into her own mouth. “Mmm, madda.”

The Library of the Sky had no native creatures. Instead, it had native stories. Or should the librarians be considered the native creatures? I didn’t know. Either way, there were a few things I had to remember when entering a story. First, there would be a villain. What was a story made of? Stories existed through conflict. And the entity standing at the opposite end of that conflict was usually called the villain. The simpler the structure, the easier it was to spot the villain. For example, in The Happy Home, the villain would be anyone who didn’t make the home happy. Just like the angry farmers approaching across the field with farming tools. Roughly fifty of them appeared, sickles and pickaxes dripping with blood. Their faces were flushed, as if they’d been drinking. The leader at the front shouted loudly, “Catch the witch!”

He looked like he was screaming with his entire body, “I’m the bad guy!” In simple stories like this, villains were even easier to identify. The conflict itself was monotonous, and the bad guys kept making it obvious they were bad.

Just as I thought—an easy story! It had looked simple from the start, so I’d chosen it as a warm-up. I raised my voice as well. “For the peace of the family! Baengnae, deploy!”

“Waaah! Yummy!”

Baengnae and the little zombies charged forward with arms spread wide. The farmers soon became meat for the larder. Problem solved!

Now ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠for the next key point. After all the villains had left for the sake of proper story progression, what had to come next? That’s right—time to receive the reward. Creaaak— As if responding to my thoughts, the front door opened and a woman in her mid-twenties stepped out. She had a fair face and cute eyes. And I realized something. Huh… she really is a witch? From the outside it was impossible to tell, but after absorbing the power of an old user, I could sense magic. This woman wielded impure mana. “Oh my! Hero-nim!”

The woman smiled warmly and threw herself into my arms. Then she swung a hidden dagger. Thud— I pierced her stomach with a tentacle. She trembled, unable to believe what had happened. “H-how?”

“What do you ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠mean, third-rate villain?”

I tossed the woman, now nothing but meat, to Baengnae. “Baengnae! Magic meat for you.”

“Waaah!”

The little zombies swarmed the witch like ants discovering candy and began nibbling away. I had successfully protected the family’s happiness. Well… anyway, that was how it worked. Defeat the villain and claim the reward. The Happy Home—Complete! Now let’s move on to the next story.