Dummy Data

Brilliant golden blonde hair reminiscent of summer's sun caught my eye first. Amber eyes sparkling like polished topaz blinked repeatedly, and strawberry-pink lips looked like they'd just tasted wild berries. It was Adella, transformed into my exact appearance—precisely, me from ten seconds ago. And I...

A soft rustle. The silver tail swished up, down, left, right.

This actually works?

Come to think of it, my manager with the cat avatar moved her tail too—but I never imagined it could be this freely controllable. Paying respects to this world's neuroscience advancements, I closely examined my changed body.

For starters, my viewpoint had lowered a bit. Even without wrapping my eyes in aura, objects were crystal clear, and no afterimages lingered no matter how I waved my hand. It felt like a high-end camera was installed.

I slipped Adella's dagger onto my finger and spun it with a flourish. Still awkward as hell. That's why I never made an avatar based on some stranger's body. To properly utilize habits built from experience, it had to be my body.

"Kyaaaaah! What? What's happening? Our bodies switched? Sis and I...!"

"Stop thrashing around in my body, would ya?"

"Huh? Wait... no way, is that you, sis?"

"Yeah. Just swapped bodies for a bit."

"How could this...?"

"Listen up, Adella."

I clapped my palms against Adella's cheeks. It felt weird doing it to what looked like myself, but anyway. As her chubby cheeks squished and her lips puffed out, I explained the plan ahead.

"To calm this mess, we gotta summon Mephistopheles and take him down ourselves. Got it?"

"Uh... yeah, got it."

"But the bodies he can possess are limited."

If she asked why, I'd have nothing to say. I'd asked Wearsoft the same thing. They spouted complex ASI jargon, which I memorized verbatim but couldn't fully grasp.

I'd suggested just saving Adella's mind and restoring it post-clear if Mephisto needed her body, but they said no dice. Uploading model data to an ongoing open world was impossible, and even overlaying on another ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠NPC couldn't capture Adella's intricate code. Not enough capacity.

So, find a model with huge data but no dummy data? There was exactly one: player me.

That's where the operation began.

"I'm handing control to the Laurel of Death now. Mephistopheles should descend soon after. Like how the pope turned into Baalzebub."

"You're sacrificing yourself in my place? No way! Please... don't... why do you always do this?!"

"Adella, hear me out! It's not a sacrifice."

"Then what?! You swapped bodies without explaining—doesn't that mean you've already decided in your heart? Right?!"

Shaking my head at Adella's crumbling sobs, I wiped away her endless tears and pressed our foreheads together.

"I'm just slipping to another world for a sec."

"Another... world?"

Adella stared, puzzled.

"Yeah. With the Laurel of Reincarnation and Immortal's Curse, I won't die. I'll just get bounced to another world."

Explaining from here got tricky. The Laurel of Reincarnation sent players back to save points on game over, while Immortal's Curse granted 5 seconds of invincibility.

As I pondered how to simplify, Adella nodded.

"So I just trust you and wait?"

She forced strength into her voice, flashing a resolute smile. Even without full understanding, it was the face of total trust in me. Failing to repay that trust? Not adult behavior.

I gripped her hand tight.

"I'll be right back."

* * *

The world reconstructs. Buildings vanished first. Like a civilization trailer in reverse, each brick evaporated from the top down in a majestic display. Then lush forests and rivers faded color. As the ground supporting bridges crumbled, I floated through cosmic voids.

And this world's universe was blindingly bright. An empty expanse filled with pure white.

This is an open world, huh. Still, a dark universe feels more beautiful.

Thank goodness for the chat ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠window at times like this.

"Think of it as a glitch exploit. Laurel of Reincarnation targets players, but Immortal's Curse treats the character as an object."

"Simply put, Immortal's Curse triggers right before HP hits zero. Normally, you'd get the full 5 seconds before death judgment, but the Laurel targets the player object itself. The curse hangs on Adella's 'body' superficially, so death triggers mid-curse, splitting worlds—and since I'm still alive, the old one collapses without deleting."

Wearsoft used a multi-stack system for open world overlaps. On retry, it didn't rebuild from scratch; it prepped sub-worlds from checkpoint seeds for seamless swaps.

"Imagine five poker cards. The Mephisto-summoned world is the ace of spades—now shuffled to the back. How do you draw it again?"

"Correct. Smart ones are the best. So just retrace our path from part 1. Overlaps mean enemies stay in the ace of spades—no fights."

They get it instantly—ain't that something? Human-made systems always have holes, no matter how solid. Like discovering Asteria's ult damages bases with Timing Item in LoL. With uncertainty in science and incompleteness in math, magic-tech hybrids can't be "perfect." If impossibility isn't proven, it's possible. Harass the engineers enough, and boom—genius idea in a day.

Finally ending this damn game, my tail twitched reflexively.

With time to kill before the next open world load, viewers dragged me into chit-chat, impatient as ever.

"Nah. When did I ever lisp?"

Piece of cake. Not runes—Korean text. Runes for 6th circle+ are complex; even I forget without chanting. Not designed for human mouths. Pre-interview tongue twister? Easy.

"Hanyang Tailor next to Hanyang Tailor, Hanyang Tailor next to Anyang Tailor."

"Huh?"

"Wait, this is worse than I thought..."

My swishing tail drooped straight, ears flattening back stiffly. Taking too long. Rewinding too far. Open world stacks weren't piling up disastrously, but the new world forming was similar yet off from what I knew.

White backdrop filled with pitch-black night sky. A chill wind brushed my arms; I wrapped Adella's black cloak tight. Glancing back casually, my shoulder snagged on something solid.

A neatly stacked stone wall. In a deserted alley of the capital, no signs of life—homes dark, everyone asleep. Not Arseria Forest from the prologue, nor Abyss 15th Branch from part 1.

Bosses all gone. Plan to hit spawn points and rush next world? Foiled.

I had no clue where I was walking. Each step heavier, like sinking in a swamp. Trudging uneven cobblestones endlessly, an owl hoot mixed with a baby's cry.

"That's a baby crying... right?"

Viewers and I sensed suspicion simultaneously. World of Arseria had no babies—or kids. Even in crowded markets post-Adella escape, only adults and elders.

Dismissing as game convenience, the hyper-realistic cry made me flip every interface.

Nothing. Finally, chapter alert:

Realization hit: I'd entered a world inaccessible normally. A forgotten, discarded realm invisible in story—dummy data.

That's when it happened.

Darkness closed in too fast—no reaction time. Heavy impact to my side, body tilting. I'd fall for sure. But before hard ground hit my ears, interfaces faded, vision cutting to black like snapped film.