Interlude 3: Rooftop Dreams and Distant Stars
The company rooftop was one of his favorite spots. Everything around him was wide open and visible. Humans instinctively preferred open spaces like that. Whether surviving in vast, empty plains or navigating towering skyscrapers, it was the same.
The rooftop door was always unlocked. A neat little garden with flowers and trees had even been planted there.
If only uninvited smokers didn't come up here to light up, it would be the perfect place to clear his head. Still, it was a bit regrettable that even his breaks were tethered to the company.
Screeech!
He pushed open the rooftop door. Luckily, no one was there today.
Having this little sanctuary all to himself wasn't something that happened every day. He was lucky today. Finding happiness in these small pleasures was probably the secret to a long life.
Jinsu headed toward the small bench. Next to it sat a metal tin overflowing with cigarette butts.
There was a sticker on the bench clearly marked "No Smoking" in red letters, yet someone had gone to the trouble of bringing a tin just to collect their butts. How dedicated did you have to be?
As a non-smoker, Jinsu couldn't wrap his head around it.
A cool breeze brushed his nape. Almost entranced, Jinsu stood and drifted toward the railing with a clear view below.
The safety railing barely reached his waist—high enough for anyone careless to tumble over by accident. That's why his legs always felt weak up here.
He saw the same view every time, but was this railing even up to code? If some suicidal employee discovered this spot, nine times out of ten they'd jump. The company would be in chaos.
'It's already chaos.'
Was it company pride that no such employee existed, or just safety complacency?
Jinsu figured it was the latter. Over the past few months, he'd felt in his bones just how sloppy this "world's top company" really was.
Shaking off the trivial thoughts, Jinsu turned his gaze to the ground beyond the railing.
Vast asphalt roads and sidewalks, cars and people streaming through them.
Countless buildings and glass windows, giant electronic billboards on their sides, and salarymen visible through the panes.
Beneath a cloudless blue sky stretched the chaotic, dizzying modern world. Countless modern people, its accessories, completed the urban landscape.
Ant-like people met others so tiny they blended together, and those meetings formed the massive currents of modern society.
In an endless forest of skyscrapers, people toiled day by day.
He was one of them.
From this height, people looked like tiny ants.
To think all the world's affairs amounted to such insignificant specks.
He could see why climbing mountains humbled people.
Though in his case, he hadn't risked his life scaling peaks—he'd just taken the elevator up here.
Suddenly, the vast skyscraper jungle before him felt incredibly distant.
Paths he always walked, sights he always saw, air he always breathed—yet it felt like peering into another world.
"Hey. Taking a break?"
The familiar voice came from behind, as always. His senior, Kiwoong Jang.
"Senior? What's up?"
"What do you mean? Just bored, so I came up."
Kiwoong spoke casually and tossed something his way.
Probably coffee.
Jinsu caught it neatly. The weight of an aluminum can registered in his hand.
"Huh? What's this?"
It wasn't his usual coffee can. The color was a normal coffee brown, but bold letters proclaimed "Carbonated Coffee."
Senior had given him one once before. A new product, no doubt. Something about combining soda fizz with caffeine for 300% overtime energy, right?
Truly devilish stuff.
"I hate weird drinks like this."
Jinsu grumbled, and Kiwoong chuckled, pointing at the can.
"Read what's on it."
"Pardon?"
Following Kiwoong's words, Jinsu looked at the can. In the corner was a small ad.
All Imagined Worlds Exist!
For the world you desire, Universe X runs today too!
A stunning celebrity model beamed across the billboard. Kiwoong snorted at the sight.
"Ads like that make it hard to believe the company's in crisis."
Jinsu added softly,
"Well, everything's still running smoothly, at least."
Time to head back to work. Jinsu slowly pulled his eyes from the billboard.
'Universe X'
The company logo on the board looked especially sharp today.
'Uni—X'
When encountering the unknown, reconnaissance was paramount. The more you knew about them, the less they knew about you, the better.
Information's true power shone in asymmetry.
It floated alone in a space as dark as the void. Wearing a helmet with a cross-shaped crack on the front, cloaked in a black cape blending with the surrounding darkness, the being sat upon a massive throne.
The cape fluttered in defiance of physics in the windless void, evoking a tyrannical overlord.
He seemed the master here, seamlessly one with the space. His expression was hidden by the thick helmet, but it was probably one of boredom.
A dark tyrant on a throne in empty darkness.
It suited him perfectly, yet the scene was profoundly eerie. The tyrant stared into the void, merging with its silence.
The oppressive stillness around him shattered as fine cracks spiderwebbed the black space. From the rifts emerged a fluttering creature.
It looked like a baseball with wings. Its spindly legs were barely noticeable, its round black body dominated by a massive eyeball.
The bizarre creature blinked and bowed toward the tyrant.
(...)
The helmeted tyrant's face turned toward the cute oddity. The creature trembled in fear under his gaze.
(Monoeyes are so dim-witted. Hard to use effectively.)
The tyrant called it a Monoeye. A lifeform stumbled upon in another world. Primitive-looking, but with irreplaceable talents—a handy tool.
(I sent it on recon. Why's it back already?)
As the tyrant conveyed his will, the Monoeye bristled slightly. It spread its wings and zigzagged through the air.
(...No idea what it's saying.)
Its low intelligence made communication frustrating. Like controlling a malfunctioning machine.
(Defective products get scrapped.)
Purple lightning flashed from the tyrant's grasp. The Monoeye burst like a punctured water balloon with a loud pop!
Blood and fluids sprayed with the debris, which the black space absorbed, vanishing completely.
No sooner had he disposed of the dud than an image popped up before the tyrant. Footage from another Monoeye on recon.
This idiot creature could transmit its vision across spaces. And it bypassed even the trickiest spatial barriers effortlessly.
The tyrant's space warped irregularly due to chaotic mana flows, crippling mana-based spatial abilities. The noise interfered with crossing in or out.
Yet the Monoeye's transmission ignored it all. How did such a primitive thing wield such power?
Low IQ made it tricky, but handled right, perfect scouts.
(Is this the city in the newly linked otherworld?)
The floating screen showed broad roads and skyscrapers piercing the sky. The tyrant noted the connected world's high development.
(Mana density seems low.)
Low mana meant scarce worthy prey. The tyrant grumbled.
For a tyrant who devoured others to grow, worlds full of weaklings offered little nutrition.
(Hm... That building stands out—taller than the rest.)
One structure caught his eye: a majestic glass tower.
At its peak gleamed a bizarre emblem—a circle enclosing straight vertical/horizontal lines crossed by diagonals.
The tyrant closed his eyes, organizing his plans. Links between his realm and otherworlds were rare. If this passage closed, who knew when another would open.
He had to seize it. Grow stronger, pull ahead of rivals.
(Lure suitable lifeforms here, devour, evolve.)
Simple plan. But the world rarely followed plans.
Still, the tyrant could only hope it worked.
Vmmm!
The otherworld feed glitched and vanished.
He'd ordered continuous observation till return, but the Monoeye must've misunderstood.
Monoeyes needed to be smarter. Just a bit.