294 - Black History: Talent Becomes National Power
In an era where talent truly equals national strength, NoName's completely unexpected Wolf Prize win ignited a grand unification of national pride and haters alike.
Math wasn't exactly an alluring subject for the masses—or even for the highly intelligent and educated. Back in the early 20th century, techniques were invented to replace the ZFC axiom system with equivalent rune words and transmutation circles, allowing many unsolved problems to be preemptively resolved. Human intellectual curiosity peaks when you don't know if a proposition is true or false. Naturally, only a rare breed of masochist would tackle a proof knowing the answer upfront.
Still, no one disputed that math remained a brutally difficult field, far less popular than theoretical magic studies. Marketing teams from every corporation scrambled into overtime, desperate to piggyback on NoName's elevation of national prestige.
"How about free lifetime Kumon worksheets?"
"Kumon? Come on, that's not the level she's at! Check with the other subsidiaries!"
"They have adult Kumon too..."
The Blue House SNS, never second to anyone in speedy thumbs, quickly posted a congratulatory message.
But perhaps their thumbs were too quick. Curses flooded the post, targeting the president with a torrent of malicious comments.
Unfortunately, breaking news hit right after: NoName, who had stubbornly refused the award speech, had been suddenly rushed to the hospital. Unjust, but what could they do? Defying public opinion always backfired, so they swiftly deleted the post.
Misfortune piled on relentlessly.
As if God refused to grant Korea such a prodigy, scrutiny on NoName's health and mental state amplified netizens' anxiety.
Leaving behind a chaotic internet rife with speculation and witch hunts, people worked tirelessly behind the scenes to restore NoName's memories.
I dreamed a short, sweet dream of Mom. Like a vivid dream evaporating upon waking, moments with her began fading from my mind. I never wanted to forget this memory forever. I replayed the situation from the start, recalling every word she said. Once incorporated into my memory banks as electrical signals, it would stay with me until death. If Mom were truly alive, would she have treated me like her own daughter? An eternal, unanswerable question tore at my insides. Just as my chest tightened, a profound disgust hit me: my body wouldn't obey. Traces of the erosion still gripped my self. This feeling... like possessing a traffic-light-colored emotion character from emotion control HQ. And the name on my retinal film was Danielle.
"Nami, I used to think music was my whole world."
She gripped my hand tightly.
"All my efforts felt too precious to waste... I couldn't even consider other paths. That would betray my parents, who sacrificed everything for me..."
That's right. People on a single path rarely look sideways or back.
"We went on a group overseas trip, and I stopped home because I missed Mom and Dad so much. They fought constantly on the phone, but when I actually showed up, they set a warm table saying I'd suffered. Mom and Dad worked from dawn to pay debts... Once I had some mental breathing room, I finally saw my surroundings. Classical doesn't pay the bills right away, haha... Once I admitted I was starting from a different line than my friends, my heart eased."
Ni-el hugged me. A shampoo scent like Yuna's wafted by.
"Thank you so much... Nami, I hope you regain your memories soon. So I can properly thank you. And I haven't given up on classical? I'll earn big and enter the Maestros Concerto someday. Come watch."
Ni-el pulled away, her eyes already moist. Her makeup would smudge. I wanted to wipe those tears myself, but my body still wouldn't move.
Unlike Schadenfreude or Sekhmet, Astarte's mind was relatively less corrupted by erosion. 'Lust' erosion feeds on others' desires to grow. In purity-enforcing societies, it weakens rapidly, so I sealed it in a seamless doll body that stirred no lust and shipped it to the ultra-purity-obsessed Holy Kingdom. Maybe that's why the current 'me' recoiled violently at exposure.
"Pervert..."
"Huh?"
'I' pointed at the woman's navel. Ban So-wol, in a crop top, tilted her head. Shin Yeon-ho covered her with a blanket nearby, easing my mind.
"I told the Alteer Academy kids not to lose no matter what, but crushing them that overwhelmingly? How embarrassing was that!"
Shin Yeon-ho burst into honest laughter.
"Nami's stronger than she looks. She didn't even use full power in the tournament."
"That's not full power? You watched the same match? It was down to the wire at the end."
"You really think so? Your eyes seem useless—wanna give 'em both to me?"
"What the hell are you saying, goosebumps..."
"NoName, remember arm-wrestling together?"
Ban So-wol grabbed my hand and swung it in the air. It flopped limply.
"Heavy things stay put. The mobile ones are always light. So I believe you haven't left us. You're an infinitely heavy friend, Nami."
"So-wol, you say weird stuff sometimes. Nami, take care. If you remember this, visit Korea University again. We'll buy you treats. Got it?"
"Salmon rice bowls and cube steak rice bowls, 10 each."
The childish voice flowed from the screen.
"No one even guessed you were 7 back then..."
Yoo Sia teared up, showing me an old broadcast.
"Sniff... Hey, don't you remember what you said? You're a genius who remembers everything! We did a master-rank stream together! Why can't you remember...!"
I stayed buried in blankets, rotten eyes fixed on the video. No response possible, so all visitors had given up.
"Sia, don't get mad at the kid."
"Hic... I'm not mad...!"
Sia rubbed her face in her sleeve, wiping tears. My gaze stayed glued to the broadcast.
I flinched.
"...!"
Clanmates, hyper-focused on me, caught the tiny reaction.
"What? Something flashing back?"
"See? You did Astria impression! Kinda half-assed... but cute anyway!"
Chaos like uncles shaking rattles at a baby.
The video ended; my dry lips moved.
"This... is me...?"
My voice finally broke free. Everyone exchanged ecstatic looks.
"Yes! The cutest streamer in the world—that's you, NoName!"
"It really works?"
"Even if memories don't come back yet... just talking is a blessing, sniff...!"
Sia must've thought this momentum could heal me.
"Too..."
"Too what?"
"Too cool."
This is cool? Even I was shocked at my own words.
Girl sensibilities were as baffling as ever, past or present.
"Aigoo, so cool?"
"Keeek! Peak chuunibyou—or is it elementary-niyou?"
"More videos? Min-jun, call the manager outside."
"Manager who? Oh, that high school girl with the 'CatCopulationIsBest' nick?"
Soon, Yi Bo-reum rushed in with a hologram projector, grinning fangily and ominously.
"Never thought I'd use my do-ne stash like this."
Hologram light blasted my eyes. Bo-reum adjusted brightness gradually, revealing me in World of Arceria: golden-haired princess facing final boss Mephistopheles.
"Hng...!"
My heart raced without warning. Astarte seemed scared of my avatar.
Self-inflicted damage instead. Please stop. I'll die of shame before regaining consciousness.
'Fear... no, what emotion is this?'
Admiration?
"Sad... but still cool..."
My mouth clearly said that. What's cool about it! I wanted to protest fiercely.
Bo-reum had an unreleased Twitch VOD—when did she record this? Were they deliberately angering me to force awakening? How else explain airing all these shamefully embarrassing scenes?
Real demons. If I'd known it'd hurt this much, I'd have stayed unconscious with Mom longer...
"When did Nami say that? First time seeing this."
"Pretty old clip. NoName era, around the World of Arceria Nightmare raid, I think."
"I see... Nami was scared of people..."
Sia murmured softly. Please just forget it all. Meanwhile, Astarte stared mesmerized at my avatar. Erosions are so unpredictable.
"Clothes..."
"Huh? Nami, what'd you say?"
"Witch's outfit too slutty...? Boobs... jiggling, gonna pop out."
"Huh? Oh yeah...! Avatar clothes are kinda revealing, right?"
"Yeah... annoying... Small boobs are better..."
"Haha, yeah...! Old Nami liked big ones, huh!"
"Yeah."
Astarte said her piece and clammed up. Was she revenge-plotting since it wasn't her body? One misunderstanding: those weren't even that big. Saint Silvia zipped around with massive ones, after all.
Guess regaining self today is hopeless. Tougher than expected. I resolved to shut eyes and ears. Deny it all as not-me later.
Mephistopheles met his end via 6th-circle high-cast Hellfire. Incredibly precise and swift post-Adella 300-chain—casting pose, infusion, variables, circuit formulas flawless. In my past life, I fired those in reality too. No wonder old folks say "back in my day."
"I'm impressive. Even in game, old skills unrusty. Huh...?"
An internal thought slipped out. Mind snapped alert; body suddenly weighed like takeoff. Limbs moved naturally at will.
Not now!
"Nami, you..."
Sia turned.
"Memories back?"
"..."
I rolled eyes to dodge stares. Realized mistake—should've played dumb naturally.
"NoName! It is you! Memories back, right!"
"For real? Recognize us, Nami?"
"..."
"Hey, why silent!"
I ignored clanmates completely. Could you talk here? Suppressed emotions, feigned calm, but suspicion stuck.
Damn Astarte... kill her again, despite already dead.
"NoName... you make all these people worry, then clam up?"
"?"
"0.99999... isn't 1? Where'd the remaining 0.00000...1 go?"
"...!"
"Reheat spinach in microwave, gets carcinogenic—be careful."
"Ugh..."
"Aah...! Sleeping with fan on kills—turn off at night!"
"Who believes th—!"
Ah... human malice is truly endless.