Brain Implant
"Get used to it."
The elevator is hard to get used to.
It's a metal box far too cold and rigid, with no trace of warmth or even the smell of tobacco.
Even I would have been startled like Christina if not for my status window knowledge.
My daughter is clearly trying her best to calm down right now.
Yet the effect seems lost when she's gripping my arm so tightly through her sleeve that it hurts.
I have no choice but to endure inside this metal box descending alongside the beam of light.
The calmest one here is Katrin.
Even Mother is clearly excited to reveal her secret to her son and daughter.
Katrin sits heavier than Mother, who at least chews on the end of her pipe.
"Are you nervous, Brother?"
I nearly burst out laughing at the sudden question.
After struggling to maintain my dignity while thinking a thousand thoughts, I finally said whatever came to mind.
"Nervous? The wheelchair's just heavy."
"Unexpected answer. How dull."
I was trying to lighten the mood, but it was the wrong answer.
Katrin only bows her head even more heavily, anchoring herself with weight.
The elevator falls silent again.
Christina still clings close, unmoving.
She's biting her lip to steady herself—I can tell without looking. Her sleeve trembles slightly.
She keeps glancing between Katrin and me, as if sensing tension.
Such a young child already reading the room like this.
It's pitiful enough to earn anyone's sympathy.
Then Katrin speaks in that ambiguous way, as if she isn't quite human.
"Brother. If you've been playing some trick—"
"Be quiet, Katrin."
Mother cuts her off like a blade.
Katrin mutters under her breath, still unsatisfied.
Just as the air feels ready to choke us, the elevator doors open.
The Grand Ducal family's secret underground bunker unfolds before us.
-
My first impression was only half right.
I'd expected white corridors and plenty of bespectacled researchers.
Instead, what greets me is a desolate white light that feels almost unreal.
At least the chemical smell matches my expectations, so half was correct.
A vast hall and the corridors branching from it come into view.
A grotesque hybrid of laboratory and training ground, perhaps.
The scent of gunpowder cuts sharply through the chemicals.
A rattling sound echoes—clearly gunfire.
Catching Christina as she stumbles isn't enough. I have to lift her entirely into my arms.
"It's all right. It's all right. It's just live-fire training." Will those words reach a terrified Christina?
I don't know. Even the status window stays silent.
Mother strides ahead, saying, "They call that an automatic rifle. Still in the experimental stage."
She moves so quickly that soldiers and researchers barely manage hasty salutes as she passes.
Katrin raises a hand in reply. I can't wave because of Christina, so there's no helping it.
Such technologies cannot be unlocked through normal play.
Status window, why are you popping up now?
More importantly, how does this status window already know about automatic rifles?
No point agonizing over questions without answers.
Right now, Christina in my arms matters more.
Even that is interrupted when Mother takes the lead.
"Hurry along. There's much to see before the new school term begins."
At the end of the corridor, before the central laboratory hall, the bespectacled researchers wait.
After their greeting and salute, the central locking mechanism of the blast door begins to turn.
The complex devices operate for quite some time—showing just how securely it was sealed.
Just before the door opens, Mother suddenly turns and asks, "Did you follow well?"
Her smile remains unpleasant, but her voice has grown considerably more serious.
"You never know what results the thing inside might bring."
"I am well aware."
"So stay calm. It can converse with spirits, but—oops."
Mother's words are cut short as Katrin's wheelchair wheel catches.
The door's threshold is too high. The wheelchair won't make it through.
"Looks like I can't go in. Brother? Want to go first?"
"Ladies first—though saying that feels odd, so put your hand down."
I can only grimace at a sister who refuses to play along at all.
At the very least, Christina should wait outside.
"I'll be back, Christina."
"Be... careful."
Once she stands properly on her feet, I stride through the blast door.
-
Inside waits a small doll.
A doll nearly the same size as Christina.
Cute enough, more than I expected.
But that metallic exterior sends a chill down the spine.
Katrin, watching from outside, lets out a disgusted "Eugh."
Christina has surely squeezed her eyes shut. She should.
Mother, the most composed, only says, "You're holding up well," and follows inside.
As if realizing someone new has entered, the previously curled-up doll rises.
"It's been a while, Moirae."
""
It speaks in a surprisingly clear voice.
Of course, it has no mouth—just producing metallic sounds that approximate speech.
Through the spine-chilling sensation, only Mother exchanges greetings calmly.
"It reminds me of twenty-five years ago. Back then, my father brought me here."
""
"How heartless. Just like always! I've brought the next administrator."
""
Electric sparks fly around the spirit.
The sparks gather nearby scrap metal and grind it into powder.
Nanomachine technology is the privilege of the spirits.
What does that mean, status window?
Anyway, the spirit seems more interested in me.
Likewise striding forward, the doll walks over while holding the metal powder in its hands.
""
"Make it painless. I know it won't hurt."
The mention of pain sends a brief surge of tension through me.
Of course Mother came out fine, so I won't be injured, but instinct is hard to suppress.
Still, the desire to uncover unknown settings is stronger.
Steadying my trembling hand, I extend it as well.
"The new administrator's name is Gerhardt Rosa von Jethalungi. Ready?"
"Let's get this over with. I'm busy. I have a daughter to look after."
""
The unpleasant scraping sound at least helps.
The metal powder scatters with a flash and wraps around my shoulder.
It's unpleasant, even as the cost of preparing eight years in advance—
-
"—Damn landlord."
I seem to have seen something.
This is the nightmare I had this morning.
The dream of corpses bleeding out and dying unfolds before my eyes once more.
What the hell is this thing?
Why must I witness the death of someone completely unrelated to me?
I try to shout, but my mouth is sealed. No sound comes out.
Yet the corpse seems to understand, its expression twisting.
"Pleased to meet you?"
A game UI appears before my eyes.
The title screen reads .
The corpse—no, the person—whatever it is, continues speaking smoothly.
"Say hello to your status window that showed you the achievement system earlier."
Not friendly at all. And what the hell is "damn landlord" supposed to mean?
"It's called resignation. After dying, I can at least ramble nonsense."
The corpse shrugs its shoulders as it speaks. Disgusting.
"Now that we've finally met properly, this status window has a few questions. How much do you know about this world?"
Alanver is a game, and I'm a character inside it.
Yet an antagonistic corpse claims to be the status window and offers knowledge?
"You understand well. Call me Park Gyeong-tae. A gamer who died unpleasantly."
What on earth is he talking about? Does he even realize he's a ghost?
"You don't get it. Ah, this world doesn't have the internet yet, does it?"
What nonsense is this really?
"For now, let's just confirm each other's existence and return you to your body."
Am I supposed to be happy about that? Without any explanation?
"This status window is a repository of game knowledge I played. I'm parasitizing your head by injecting surplus knowledge."
So that's the source. It's all well and good, but the status window isn't helpful.
"I'd like to, but even the greatest ghost can't defy the landlord."
Explaining it that way? So you admitted to parasitizing?
"So listen carefully. Your turning point comes eight years from now. That's when the election begins—"
Wait, what did you just say?
-
"Gerhardt!?"
""
"Shiiiiiit—"
An unfamiliar ceiling light stabs at my eyes.
The spirit crouching and peering down at least blocks some of the light.
I've clearly collapsed after the procedure.
As much as the fear from those emotionless eyes.
Thankfully, the spirit suddenly moves and disperses the terror.
""
Cancel. That blank voice still stirs fear.
Even Mother crouches in a hurry, yet the spirit's voice remains that calm.
Is that what makes a doll different?
"I'm still fine, Mother. No injuries either—ow."
""
I really wasn't injured.
I just stepped on my foot trying to stand up quickly.
What words should I squeeze out to calm the startled Mother?
"Injury isn't the issue! Is your head all right? Are your nerves fine?"
I'm a bit suspicious that those are the parts she's worried about.
Something was definitely injected into my head.
Should I mention what the parasite in my head said about events eight years from now?
""
If my mind were even slightly clearer, I'd be furious at that blankness.
But now I have to focus just to answer calmly.
Discovering I'm not alone—clearly it accessed my head directly.
I don't even know which is more shocking: the parasite in my head or this spirit.
"No, so, I'm fine, my body is intact and—"
So the words that come out are all like this.
In the end, a long silence must pass until everyone calms down.
"Are you really sure there's no problem?"
Katrin raises her voice slightly from beyond the door.
That's all a sister who can't cross the threshold because of her wheelchair can say.
"The wheelchair must be heavy!"
"Is your mouth the only thing alive and grumbling?"
I'd rather it were just that.
For now, at least I'm not hurt. That's enough.
I repeat words that lack conviction even to myself and keep thinking.
Otherwise, I'll drown in the surging fear.
Thinking that, I activate the status window and have to steady my breathing again.
The Alanver status window UI has been upgraded to the next version.
-
There was nothing special for Katrin.
Of course, the fact that a spirit existed in this household was special, but that was all.
At least compared to the suspicions she'd harbored about her brother since morning.
'What is Brother thinking...'
Unexpected events had been erupting for Katrin since morning.
It began with the slick brother whose thoughts she couldn't read behaving that way.
To put it coldly, he was only looking after Christina.
That's how he treated the child he'd brought home last month, calling her his daughter.
And today, Brother had finally called that child his daughter for the first time.
He'd seemed ready to toy with the poor child and discard her at any moment.
Unlike other nobles, what was this?
She'd already given up on the fact that the Grand Duke's heir was a scoundrel.
In an instant, hope had been born. A vile disease.
Katrin wanted to hold onto that hope.
Enough to quietly reconsider her own thoughts of becoming Grand Duchess.
The vain hope that had barely bloomed could only suffocate at her brother's reaction.
It's a situation disgusting enough to make one hate gasping for breath without knowing what one is saying.
With just a few clues, Katrin could retrieve her prejudices again.
'He's trying to salvage the family fortune by ruining it' instantly becomes certainty.
Just how grandly did he squander it to act like this before the new school term—
"Auntie? Will Father be all right?"
"—Hm?"
At her niece's question, Katrin snapped back to her senses.
Did this little mouse just call her "Auntie" without hesitation?
And naturally call Brother "Father"? Where did all that fear go?
Jealousy?
That can't be, she thinks, immediately covering the nonsense.
Even as the stain of nonsense keeps spreading and clouding her mind.
Because her niece says without reserve the words she herself wanted to say comfortably?
She could never stand a chance against Hubert anyway.
A dry laugh spreads across the wheelchair.
Her mouth says, "Yes, niece, why?" while her mind spins trying to think of something else.
She's trying to figure out what that damn brother and Elise are going to do.