2. Spider Woman Yurakne (3)
2. Spider Woman Yurakne (3)
The first day's performance went off without a hitch. By midnight, once the troupe had all turned in, I slipped out of the wagon and wandered near the dying campfire. Everyone panicked the moment they saw me, so I'd made a habit of taking my walks at night.
Every step brought a new texture underfoot. The cold night breeze tickled my palms. The warmth of the embers. The crackle of the last logs burning down. The hum of insects. The blue moon hanging overhead.
Everything registered razor-sharp against my senses.
A game. Could I really call all of this a game?
It'd been ten days since we left the viscountess's territory. People, landscapes, cities, goods, techniques, culture—everything I laid eyes on moved organically. Even a single brick in a place that never appeared in the game, a lone weed's root—each one fiercely asserted its own history. My senses told me one thing: this place was real.
And yet. Even so. It didn't matter.
This place was still a game.
I wasn't trying to claim it was a fake world. It might very well have been real, existing somewhere out in the universe. The Tril Trillo series could have been some kind of selection test, filtering people to send here. But none of that changed the fact that in two and a half years, I would vanish from this world. Whether I returned to my original one or simply ended in death.
No matter how vividly the stage was dressed, no matter how sincerely every player committed to their role, once the play was over, the actor had to step off the stage. I was this stage's only actor. The role's name was Frank Wonderstein. Leader of the Monster Circus Troupe.
Whether this place was truly real didn't matter to me. It was just a stage. A two-and-a-half-year engagement. A long play, if you called it long. A short one, if you called it short. When it ended, I would set the role aside and go back to reality.
And when that happened, I would...
Bleep.
Bleep.
The Status Window kept chiming. A message from the 'Evolution Lab' was running calculations on its own.
Ah, this. I'm never going to get used to it.
Trait: Arm
Application site: Shoulder
Effect: An ordinary arm.
Required resource: [Devolut 16]
Trait: Leg
Application site: Pelvis
Effect: An ordinary leg.
Required resource: [Devolut 24]
Trait: Leg
Application site: Pelvis
Effect: An ordinary leg.
Required resource: [Devolut 24]
Trait: Arm
Application site: Shoulder
Effect: An ordinary arm.
Required resource: [Devolut 16]
Every time I used the Status Window, talking to thin air or fiddling with invisible buttons was mortifying. That's why I'd turned on the 'Use Status Window with Willpower' option in the settings. The problem was, it sometimes activated on its own when I was lost in thought.
The worst offender was the 'Evolution Lab.' Whenever I felt I needed something, it'd start calculating the required abilities and resources without being asked. Reading a book late at night? It'd recommend 'Owl Eyes.' Wagon rocking too much? It'd suggest 'Gravity Field Semicircular Canal.' Clearly, I needed practice—treat it like re-learning how to move my body.
I dismissed the Status Window and dropped down in front of the fire. Traces of the troupe's evening lay scattered everywhere. It had been a rowdy dinner hour.
I hadn't even planned a debut performance, yet the troupe had all delivered. We'd never intended to stay in Axville this long. After securing patronage from Viscountess Bergson, we headed for the river—taking a boat was the fastest route to our first destination. A week of travel, and we'd finally reached the ferry dock. But we couldn't get a boat.
"What? A Monster Circus?"
"Are you insane? Load those people on board and the river spirit will curse us!"
"Forget it. Get lost with that bad luck."
Boatmen are a superstitious breed by nature. Even a tailless rat or a cast-off snakeskin is enough to ruin their mood for the day and sink them into anxiety. Let alone people popularly known as 'the cursed.'
Even tripling the fare couldn't produce a single willing captain. Eventually, Ella proposed an alternative.
"Let's contact our patron. The Bergson family runs a trading company—they must have ships, right?"
I stifled a sigh. I really didn't want to ask that woman for a favor. She'd just sent a reply complaining that my last letter was insufficient. 'Send me a letter this half-hearted again and I might just withdraw my patronage!' I'd packed it exactly as she asked—invoice enclosed, itinerary filled out in detail—and I still couldn't figure out what her problem was. I could only imagine the flaying I'd get for this new request to send a ship.
But I had no choice. I needed her backing—desperately. Main Quest: Circus Grand Prix. Once I'd secured a sponsor, a new Main Quest had appeared, demanding that we advance to the Grand Prix finals. Unlike the 'Main Quest - Prequel'—where the failure penalty was death in reality—this one had no penalty for failure. Instead, the reward for success was absurdly tempting. The moment I'd seen the quest notification, my breath nearly stopped. The thing I'd wished for, over and over, was dangling there as the prize.
The Circus Grand Prix. Whatever the cost, I had to make it to the finals.
"Understood. We'll send a letter to Viscountess Bergson."
The reply arrived almost immediately after we sent it: a ship would be dispatched within a week. A few days to send the letter and wait. A few more for the ship to arrive. That left us stuck in Axville for about ten days.
"No point wasting time sitting around doing nothing."
"I've got an idea."
Ella dragged me to the Axville Merchants Association. Her proposal was simple: since we were stuck here for ten days, why not put on a show at the marketplace?
"Will the merchants really welcome us?" I asked.
"Sailors are prickly about that stuff, but merchants are different."
She was right. The association accepted our offer without hesitation. Traders value profit over pride—as long as we drew a crowd, they didn't care who did it. They even dispatched their own people to spread word to the surrounding villages, without our having to ask. Thanks to that, the show was a success. It drew a bigger crowd than I'd expected.
[Sub Quest 'First Performance' completed.]
[Reward: 'Devolut 10' awarded.]
Name: Frank Wonderstein
Age: 27
Occupation: BioMancer
-Devolut: (7.8/20)
-Muscle Strength: 2.0 (Jock)
-Tissue Hardness: 2.0 (Leather Armor)
-Cell Regeneration: 2.0 (Walking Pace)
Traits
: [The Smiling Man], [Rapid Rigidity]
Over those ten days, my stats had shifted a little. I'd expanded my maximum Devolut capacity from 10 to 20 and raised each of the three basic abilities by 1.0. Muscle Strength governed raw power. Tissue Hardness governed defense. Cell Regeneration governed recovery. The parenthetical analogies gave me a rough gauge of where I stood. Strength had climbed from 'Brittle Bones' to 'Jock.' Defense from 'Buck Naked' to 'Leather Armor.' Recovery from 'Crawling' to 'Walking Pace.'
Every 0.1 increase in a basic stat cost 1 Devolut, and raising the maximum Devolut capacity by 1 also cost 1 Devolut. There was a reason I'd rushed to expand that capacity: the daily Devolut supply. The 'Average Affection level' on the Member Management tab had a hidden function.
The night Ella's Affection level had risen by 3, a message had popped up.
[Current Average Affection level among troupe members is 0.3. Members provide 'Devolut 0.3'.]
An unexpected bonus. Every midnight, I received Devolut based on the troupe's Average Affection level. From that day on, I did everything I could to raise it.
[Member Quest 'Uncomfortable Bedding' completed.]
[Member Quest 'Insufficient Rations' completed.]
I upgraded their bedding and improved the quality of the food. I told Ella not to worry about money and to spend freely. The kind of luxury a traveling circus can afford is pocket change compared to a patron's stipend. And the most important part: I stayed out of their way. The original Wonderstein had a habit of popping up out of nowhere and terrifying the members. It had been a massive source of stress for them. Once, I'd drifted closer to listen in on a conversation, and the moment I was spotted, I got a notification that the Affection level had dropped. That was when I realized my mistake. After that, I kept my time outside the wagon to an absolute minimum.
Thanks to all that careful, deliberate effort, the Average Affection level now exceeded 2. Feed them well, let them sleep, and stay out of sight. Was that the secret to being the perfect boss?
Ding.
A distant night watchman rang a bell marking midnight. I checked the time on my Status Window and waited for the message.
Midnight sharp.
[Current Average Affection level among troupe members is 2.6. Members provide 'Devolut 2.6'.]
[Current Circus Troupe Fame is 7. The troupe provides 'Devolut 0.7'.]
Fame? Fame supplies Devolut too? I'd suspected there was something to it. The rewards list never mentioned it, so I'd assumed it was just a dummy stat.
<Rewards based on Average Affection level>
: [Unlocked at 10]
: [Unlocked at 25]
: [Unlocked at 40]
: [Unlocked at 60]
: [Unlocked at 80]
<Rewards based on Circus Troupe Fame>
: [Unlocked at 50]
: [Unlocked at 150]
: [Unlocked at 300]
: [Unlocked at 500]
: [Unlocked at 800]
Even assuming fame climbs after every performance... could Wonderstein possibly ever reach an Average Affection level of 80? Given how terrified the members were of him, even hitting 80 with a single person looked like a distant fantasy. Did I just have to keep clearing Member Quests? Would that be enough?
Truth was, I didn't really know how to earn people's affection. I'd been alone in my old world too. All day, every day: gaming, forums, recording strategy videos, watching TV. The caregiver from the welfare center was my only contact. No family, not a single friend.
It was then that a clatter broke my reverie.
Clatter. Rattle.
Something rolled across the ground and bumped against my foot. A fist-sized potato. "Aaah, aaah..." An overturned basin. Spilled potatoes. And a woman in her mid-twenties, trembling violently at the sight of me.
Violet hair caught eerie glints under the moonlight. Large, dark eyes shook as they fixed on me.
I knew who she was. A member of the Monster Circus Troupe. The woman with six arms. Spider Woman, Yurakne.
"Lovely evening," I greeted her with a smile. I didn't expect her to return it. She'd probably duck her head, voice quaking, stammer, "I-I'm sorry! P-please forgive me!" while bowing and scraping. It'd only been two weeks, but I was used to it by now. Every accidental encounter with a member went that way.
Her actual response was nothing I'd anticipated.
"H-hello... L-lovely evening... i-indeed."
Her voice and her body were still trembling, but she returned my greeting properly. That was a first, aside from Ella and Umon.
"What brings you out so early?"
I kept my tone as soft as possible, hoping it didn't sound like I was criticizing or interrogating her. To my relief, Yurakne—still stammering—managed a real answer.
"Ah, w-well... I needed to peel the potatoes ahead of time for tomorrow's breakfast..."
"That requires starting at one in the morning?"
"Oh, n-no! ...I heard the morning fish market in this town opens at two, so..."
"The morning fish market?"
"W-well, we're at a river port... I thought I should at least try making a proper fresh-fish dish..."
Fish. Now that she mentioned it, back in Korea I'd had seafood almost every meal—fish, shellfish, seaweed. Since crossing over here, I hadn't eaten a single marine dish.
"I'm looking forward to it."
"H-huh?"
"Your cooking's been wonderful so far, Yurakne. I can look forward to tomorrow too, right?"
"O-of course..."
She ducked her head shyly. When I didn't add anything more, she began gathering up the spilled potatoes and placing them back into the basin. I couldn't just sit there, so I stood and helped her.
"Y-you really don't need to, Troupe Leader..."
"It'll go faster if we both do it."
"I-I... thank you."
She flinched every time I drew close, pulling back reflexively.
Spider Woman, Yurakne. Like the others, the gap between her game counterpart and reality was stark. In the game, she was a monster that imprisoned people in cocoons and dissolved their flesh with venom before drinking them dry. Here, she was just an ordinary person with a few extra arms.
Even after we'd gathered all the potatoes, her Affection level didn't budge. Obviously it wasn't going to be that easy. Still, I couldn't let a rare opportunity for rapport slip away.
"How about I help you peel those?"
I made the offer as gently as I could—unassuming, casual, a faint smile on my lips, as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world. I wished Yurakne would welcome it warmly, but...
Clatter.
The basin flipped onto the ground. The potatoes we'd just gathered went rolling again.
"T-Troupe Leader... I-I... I'm so sorry..."
Yurakne collapsed in front of me, her face gone bone-white.
Wonderstein's sudden display of kindness—that was what had terrified her.
'I've really got a long way to go.'
I gazed down at the Spider Woman prostrate before me and sighed inwardly, over and over.