Chapter 185 - Recollection: "What Is Your Earliest Memory?"
"What is your earliest memory, everyone?"
I wonder what age the people watching this video tomorrow will recall. Three? Four? Maybe the memory of being spanked by their parents and crying, or wandering lost through a crowded street. The more shocking the memory, the more likely it is to become one's first, right?
"My first memory was of a world inside a game. The name of that game was Legacy of Legend."
No Seola had kept me locked in a private room for nearly a year, running the game without fail every single day just to buy mana potions. It probably didn't start that way. Not everyone could easily think of making money through title farming. Each capsule had a system where you could take out a small loan using the capsule itself as collateral—probably no more than a million won. Sustaining life with mana potions instead of food and water, watching the fuse on the bomb tick down shorter and shorter... what must have been going through No Seola's mind? For a girl her age, it must have been a horrific experience. Truly.
"My mother never logged into virtual reality again after that, just to save me. And I kept playing the game, just as she had taught me."
Play the game. Earn titles. Sell titles. Make money. Buy mana. Play the game again. That monotonous, nightmarish routine dragged on for a full seven years.
"In 2044, 3,917 games. 2045, 8,392. 2046, 8,505. 2047, 8,469. 2048, 8,538. 2049, 8,150. And even in 2050, at least 4,000 more. That was the only way I could survive."
"I want to call your name one last time."
"I don't know my own name."
"That's okay. I'll give you one now."
Did I instinctively sense that was our last moment together? "Nami is such a pretty name—there's nothing like it."
Her warm words made me flinch in fear first.
"Our Nami, you have to survive no matter what. Live on fiercely to the end, and live for Mommy too."
What did "survive" even mean? Why couldn't No Seola stay with me? The confused child just kept staring at her.
"Remember this: your mother is only No Seola. Our proud daughter, Nami."
"So my name... is the one my mother gave me right before she passed. The nickname came first, and the real name followed."
Yeah, what a melodramatic sob story. I fell silent for a while, lost in the lingering emotions. Was there really no other way for No Seola to survive? If I'd snapped out of it even a little sooner, if I'd realized the situation faster, she wouldn't have had to bear that burden alone...
"Nami!"
"...?"
"Fighting!"
Suddenly, No Seola appeared like a mirage beyond the camera tripod, clenching both fists and grinning as if cheering me on for tomorrow's finals. Yeah, it's nice to see her even as a hallucination. If we're talking sheer wonder, the brain's one step ahead of magic. How could it feel so real? I blinked lightly, and she was gone, as if she'd never been there.
I'll come see you this Sunday.
I refocused on the video recording. Sorry, but I held back on mentioning Cheon Se-min and Detective Ma Beomil who helped with the rescue—didn't want to drag them into any fallout. But there was one thing I had to make crystal clear.
"I think this country is too cruel. Indifference and exclusion. Those are the words that immediately come to mind when I hear 'Republic of Korea' today. I scraped by my worthless life amid your indifference, and until I was adopted by a kind-hearted person, I lived as a stateless person under your exclusion."
A child living as a stateless person in Korea isn't much of a loss? Far from it. Even when I signed up for Twitch to monetize streams and earn potion money on my own, how long did I have to wait? Subtly or not, Korea doesn't look kindly on the stateless or refugees. And orphanage kids are sharp—they know everything about who's got parents, who's an orphan, birth circumstances, all of it. In that world, only Baek Arin stuck with me to the end, and it's largely thanks to her that I didn't end up hating all humanity.
"I'm not sharing my story just to brag about my misery. I hope this makes you pay a little more attention to your neighbors, friends, parents, or children."
Seo Yu-na got bullied at the academy because no one bothered to look into her situation. Kariri faced that harsh scrutiny partly because the public willfully ignored the truth. There was no malice. I hate that phrase—it's been around forever. So what? No perpetrators, just victims left behind? Does that mean victims have to wander their past traumas alone, carrying unhealing wounds forever? If you don't want to be a perpetrator, at least don't be a bystander.
"Everyone watching this video must be smart people. You remember all those Legacy of Legend champions, and you've memorized the complex swordsmanship and magic skills of World of Arceria. So I think the requests I'm about to make will be really simple for you."
Still, I had to believe in people one more time. People are the ones who'll change the world for the better, after all. That wrapped up the video.
[Recording Ended 9:32]
A little under ten minutes. Showing the story I'd kept bottled up inside to the world felt mortifying. I didn't want to think about anything anymore. Tomorrow's me can handle the rest. I want to do nothing. I'm already doing nothing, but I want to do it more intensely, more aggressively. But this damn ennui wouldn't leave me be. I dragged myself out of bed, washed my face, changed clothes, and logged into virtual reality.
0:01:31 – NoName
"I shot a vlog this morning since the weather was nice."
Yeah, it was a bit hot, but the weather wasn't half bad today.
* * *
The video ended. A bit of murmuring and rustling. But considering the stadium packed with people, the decibels weren't that high. I'd expected this reaction anyway—I just had to do my part. I grabbed the mic and stepped one or two paces ahead of the caster.
"Please forget for a moment that I'm only seven and hear my requests."
I got a quick nod from the caster. Time was running short for the interview, so I kept it simple and fast.
"I previously requested a reinvestigation of the Banghwa Bridge bombing, but it was denied. So this time, I'm trying a different approach. I've submitted a national petition under my real name, 'No Nami,' requesting a reinvestigation of the Walpurgis purge operation. The time when my mother and I were trapped in capsules and moved to that remote abandoned house was definitely before the Banghwa Bridge bombing."
I could clearly witness that hellish scene through Persona Phaith. Adella's core memory showed two unsynced capsules left behind—one No Seola's, the other mine.
"So first, please clarify the timeline of events. Did the Banghwa Bridge bombing really happen first, or was there already a hostage rescue op in motion before that? If it's the latter, the reasons for hiding the truth and those responsible must come to light. For that, I need your continued attention, viewers. So I'm begging you."
I bowed at a perfect ninety degrees. It felt awkward—maybe the first time I'd done this. If I held it a second longer, maybe one more person would listen. But time pressure cut it to under ten seconds. Almost there, No Nami. Hang in there. The second request was simple, utterly ordinary.
"Second... for our poor mother currently in that rundown... columbarium, please improve her... trea... uh... treat... ment..."
I'd tried to avoid the cliché of "tears blurring my vision." But then the pre-recorded video was pointless... Well, no tears actually fell, so I didn't cry. With a voice barely above a whisper, I wrapped up the interview.
"Thank you all for listening..."
"You did great! Good job, Nami!"
"...!"
I startled at the soft voice and turned, but no one was there. I'd been about to say how much I missed her, but No Seola vanished quick as ever. I wish she'd visit more often—not just right before my birthday.