The Suicide Protocol

A Player's field of vision was always cluttered.

A thermometer floated in the upper right corner.

36.8°C.

It was a metric I barely paid attention to after meeting CC, but it would gradually rise as computation continued. Exceeding 41°C was dangerous. At 43°C, the brain would begin to cook. Usually, an immediate logout was recommended.

Next to it was the current time.

22:47

It displayed Maetan's time. Time in the Internet world flowed differently from Maetan. It even varied by region, and Event Zones had their own unique flow of time.

To know the exact time of my current location, the most reliable way was to walk into a shop on the street and check a physical clock.

And on the left side of my vision was the resource status window.

This was the total capacity of the NexHub.

Avatars, personal belongings, items—everything went in here.

In my case, CC's data took up most of it, and when she copied something, that data went in here too.

CC said she set up a smokescreen so that to anyone else, it just looked completely empty.

Below the resource status window was the connection status window.

To be honest, I didn't know what those meant.

I'd heard CC's explanation, but I still didn't really get it.

Anyway, she said if they were high, it was bad.

There was also a current location display.

It was too vague to be useful. Plus, it didn't even update until I verified it with my own eyes. It would change whenever I passed by a bus stop or a subway sign.

On top of this, CC's chat window popped up constantly.

Sometimes, when CC was doing something, a black terminal screen would pop up.

Occasionally, the prosthetic arm console would open as well.

On top of that, CC would bring up various other windows. It was incredibly cluttered.

At times, there were more message windows than actual field of vision.

But the most important thing was something else.

At the far right edge of my vision: a red cross button.

'Self-termination Protocol'

A Player's exploration of the Internet always carried the risk of encountering F, the artificial intelligence hostile to humanity.

If a peripheral part of the body became infected by F, the most effective countermeasure was to quickly amputate the infected area.

In the past, Kang Yeolchan, who fought to save the field agents, had dealt with it by amputating his own infected limb.

However, if the central nervous system, such as the brain or spinal cord, became infected, the situation became dire.

At that point, because control of the body was in the process of being transferred to F, self-amputation became impossible.

And besides, if you amputate your central nervous system, you die anyway...

If the central nervous system was infected by F, the NexHub would automatically report it to Maetan, and Maetan would dispatch a NexHub extraction team.

The extraction team was said to arrive anywhere in Maetan within a maximum of 15 minutes.

If the extraction was successful, the Player would at least survive.

Though they would never be able to use any network, including Intra-Maetan, again—meaning they were practically dead in Maetan...

But so what? Life continued outside of Maetan.

I, too, had lived outside until two years ago.

The problem was if ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the infected me was likely to return to Intra-Maetan faster than the extraction team could arrive.

If that happened, a massive catastrophe would strike the physical city of Maetan.

In the past, a Player had returned to Maetan while infected, resulting in the deaths of countless people. Longsword Goblin Senior's wife had been poisoned then, and she still had difficulty moving to this day.

So Maetan had created a safety measure in case 'holding out for 15 minutes was difficult.'

If it seemed like the infected me would reach Maetan ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠within 15 minutes...

Stare at the red cross for 15 seconds.

Doing so would trigger the NexHub's Self-termination Protocol.

The NexHub would overload, sending a high-voltage current through the USB directly into the entire brain.

Meaning it would completely fry the brain.

The ultimate resort to prevent an AI from invading Maetan.

The suicide protocol.

Indeed. It wasn't a safety device for the Player; it was a safety device for Maetan.

“At least originally, it was set to trigger automatically upon central nervous system infection. The S-ranks protested, so it was changed to manual.”

Kang Yeolchan said as he sprayed a mist all over his body.

Pshhh— Pshhh—

I didn't know what kind of spray it was, but he kept spraying until his skin was damp.

His short, spiky hair stood stiffly upright even when wet.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

CC's useless observation floated in my vision. Beyond it, the panoramic view of Chungmuro unfolded.

It was spectacular.

Though I had connected to the Internet several times, this was the first time I had looked down at Seoul from the top of a building. No, even in reality, I had never looked down at a city from such a height. From one end of my vision to the other, something was constantly moving.

Vehicles, people, even clouds. The Internet's fidelity in recreating reality was once again astonishing.

“Mmh, I'm ready,” Kang Yeolchan said, shaking out his body.

“Come over here. It is dangerous,” gestured Daenyang, the tiger beastman.

We moved away from Kang Yeolchan toward the corner of the rooftop.

“Here I go!”

BOOM!

With a roaring explosion, flames erupted around Kang Yeolchan.

Pop-pop-pop-pop-pop!

A rapid succession of sounds, like small firecrackers exploding, tore through the air.

“That is the sound of carbon molecules burning around Yeolchan-nim,” Daenyang explained.

“Haaaaah!”

With Yeolchan's shout, the flames began to take shape. The massive, blazing form of a goblin appeared behind his back. It had a furious face and held a giant club.

Yeolchan alone was over two meters tall, but the fire goblin was two or three times larger than him.

“Whew...”

As Yeolchan exhaled, the massive goblin melted back into the air.

“This is my skill, Fire Goblin!”

Wiping his sweat, Yeolchan approached, smelling of burnt carbon. Seeing how the liquid he had sprayed had completely evaporated, it must have been a protective agent against heat.

“My skill looks like it controls fire, but in reality, it's the ability to rapidly vibrate molecules in the air! I extract oxygen from the surroundings, arrange carbon molecules into the desired shape, and then vibrate the molecules to ignite them!”

Yeolchan continued his passionate explanation. The usually muscular goblin suddenly looked like a scholar.

“I control the shape of the flames with the carbon structure, and the power with the amount of oxygen I extract! If I make it too powerful, the oxygen in the area decreases, which could harm our allies. So I have to use it with a slight delay to allow the oxygen to replenish.”

CC offered a supplementary explanation, but even that was hard to understand.

Had my comprehension skills deteriorated this much? To think I couldn't even keep up with what a ten-year-old was saying...

“Yeolchan, that's enough. Look at his face. He doesn't seem to understand,” Daenyang gently stopped Yeolchan, who was still talking. Yeolchan smiled sheepishly, and both of them looked at me with light grins.

“So, it's like this,” Yeolchan continued.

“When I first used fire, I really calculated every single thing. Oxygen concentration in the air 21%, nitrogen 78%, others 1%... To extract oxygen molecules from this ratio, what frequency and in which direction should I move the molecules? To arrange carbon atoms in a hexagonal structure, the angles must be 120 degrees, the bond ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠length 0.142 nanometers... like that.”

He drew complex shapes in the air with his finger.

“Just like how a chef initially uses measuring cups and thermometers to adjust ingredients and heat, but later creates perfect dishes by touch and intuition. At some point... it just happens.”

“Isn't it the same as riding a bicycle?” Daenyang chimed in.

“At first, you're conscious of everything—the handlebar angle, pedal speed, center of gravity shift... but later, your body just balances itself automatically.”

I recalled when I was learning to ride a motorcycle not long ago, falling over for nearly an hour.

At first, every time I was about to fall, I turned the handlebars, adjusted the speed, and calculated everything in my head before acting, but in the end, my body moved naturally.

“Exactly!” Yeolchan nodded. “At some point, it felt like my brain created a path to do all those calculations... in an instant. It carved a shortcut. Just like how when you do addition, at first you calculate digit by digit, but later you just look at it and the answer pops up.”

He clenched and unclenched his fist.

“Now, if I think 'I want to make fire,' my brain automatically handles all the calculations in an instant. I'm not even conscious of it. The moment I realized that, text floated before my eyes: [You have acquired the skill, Fire Goblin!]”

“Do you understand? Skills aren't something you can learn just because you want to. If you master it through constant repetition, it becomes a skill,” Daenyang said.

“Additionally, it is also possible to assist part of a skill with an avatar. My skill, 'Tiger's Roar,' is based on the theory that a tiger's roar contains low-frequency waves that paralyze the opponent. I chose a beastman avatar with a tiger's oral structure to mimic that roar.”

Wasn't it just your preference?

No, wait. Preference came first, and the skill came second.

“Hyeong-nim, if you also capture the image you want and constantly repeat that action, you can have a skill too! Is there anything you've thought of?!” Yeolchan asked.

I hadn't even thought about it.

Quiet, you.

“Is the conversation mostly finished?”

The rooftop door opened, and Guild Leader Yoo Hyeyeon, dressed in a suit, appeared.

“How is it? Did it give you any hints?”

“...I'm not really sure.”

Yoo Hyeyeon smiled and said,

“Fufu, it's always like that. Skills aren't something you get just because you want them; they're often obtained naturally as you keep active. More importantly, it's time. We should get going.”

“Wow, I'm jealous. I want to go too...”

Yeolchan furrowed his brow and cast an envious look.

I looked at Yoo Hyeyeon, but she gently shook her head.

“In the first place, it's a mission only S-rank or higher Players can participate in. Joohyuk-ssi was specially invited as a reference person because he's related to the matter... After the mission is over, other Players might ask you a few questions. Don't be too nervous. They're all prominent people, but... I'll be right beside you.”

Yoo Hyeyeon raised her arm as if flexing her biceps.

“Well then, shall we head out?”

When Yoo Hyeyeon selected the empty air, a message popped up.