Day 22 — An Outing Interrupted
Growl—.
“Uung—”
At the rumble rolling up from her stomach, Cheon Seo-ah stretched out long and hard.
A glance out the window found late night already settled over everything, the dark having crept in without her noticing.
Just how long…
“How many hours have I been at this?”
Even she had to admit it had been excessive, and an awkward little smile slipped onto her face before she could stop it.
It had been ages since she’d last sat down for a game, and she had lost all track of time to it. She couldn’t say for certain, but days had almost certainly passed since she’d first logged in.
Growl—.
“I’m hungry.”
At the second chime of her stomach’s alarm clock, Seo-ah drifted out into the living room.
And at the same moment—
“You’ve come out, young lady.”
A shadow fiend who had melted into the dark at the corner of the living room opened his eyes at the sound of her presence and spoke as she stepped out of her room.
“Did I wake you?”
“Not at all. Today was my turn on watch either way.”
“I see.”
At the shadow fiend’s answer, Seo-ah nodded as if it were nothing of note—and that was when it happened.
Growl—.
Louder still than before, her stomach clock pealed through the room. The shadow fiend’s face softened into a gentle smile; Seo-ah’s cheeks colored with embarrassment.
“You must be hungry. Please wait a moment—I’ll have a meal ready shortly.”
“If you would.”
Seo-ah nodded as she spoke, and the shadow fiend, smile still soft, turned toward the kitchen. She perched on the sofa and watched him go, half-dazed.
“Come to think of it, I still haven’t asked your name.”
Twitch—.
At her idle murmur, the body of the shadow fiend cooking in the kitchen gave a sharp jolt.
It was true. They still had never told Cheon Seo-ah their names. She hadn’t asked, and the right moment to offer them up of their own accord had simply never arrived.
But—
“I—I’m so sorry!”
The shadow fiend who had been cooking with his shadows spun toward Seo-ah, apologized on the spot, and slammed his forehead into the floor.
To Seo-ah it had been nothing more than a muttered aside. To the shadow fiend, those words had landed as, Why haven’t you told me your name yet? and, Do you not want to tell me your name?
And if word of this ever reached his master’s ears—Chilgeomje’s—
I’m—I’m dead—!
Death flashed through him in an instant, and the fiend’s body began to shake.
Meanwhile, the thunderclap of a head meeting the floorboards roused a young man who had been sleeping in another room; he ambled out, still half-asleep.
“Hey, what’s goi—!”
He froze mid-sentence, vacant eyes snapping into focus.
Seo-ah sat on the sofa, watching his comrade with dead black eyes that held no emotion at all. And his comrade, facing her, had his forehead ground into the floor.
In a heartbeat the young man’s unfocused pupils locked sharp.
“I—I’m so sorry!”
He had no idea what his comrade had done wrong, but when in doubt, you apologized first. He, too, slammed his head to the floor in the same full prostration—the pose known far and wide as the classic “Wonsan bombing.”
Seo-ah, watching the two of them, tilted her head in genuine bewilderment.
“Why are you doing that all of a sudden?”
“To think we still hadn’t told you our names! We’re truly sorry!”
That was the problem?!
At the shadow fiend’s cry, the young man’s eyes—still glued to the floor—flew wide open.
Come to think of it, he had completely forgotten that he, too, had never given Cheon Seo-ah his name. And if that fact reached Lord Chilgeomje’s ears… what would become of him?
The same thought the shadow fiend had just entertained flooded the young man’s eyes with mounting terror.
Death rose in their minds. The shadow fiend and the young man trembled with fear.
Seo-ah smiled faintly and flicked her fingers.
W-what—!
The shadow fiend and the young man flinched. A soft breeze that seemed to drift in from nowhere brushed over them—and in that same instant, an irresistible force hauled their bodies upright. They both understood at once: it was Seo-ah’s power that was forcing them to their feet.
Looking at the two of them, she said,
“Well, learning them now is fine, isn’t it? So please tell me your names.”
“I-I’m Kang Min-ho.”
“I’m Shin Dae-jin.”
The shadow fiend—Kang Min-ho. The once-slouching young man (the slouch was gone now)—Shin Dae-jin. Seo-ah nodded at their introductions.
“All right. Then please go about your business.”
With that, she sank deep into the sofa and closed her eyes. Kang Min-ho and Shin Dae-jin stared at her as if they still could not quite understand.
Early morning.
A few hours earlier she had eaten the late-night meal Kang Min-ho had prepared for her and dived straight back into Valorant; now the sunlight pouring through the window finally made her close the game.
“I think I’ll go out for a change today.”
Seo-ah smiled as she spoke. Kang Min-ho, standing at attention behind her, nodded.
“Then I’ll prepare right awa—”
“Ah, that’s all right.”
She stopped Kang Min-ho as he scrambled to get her ready to go out and gave a light flick of her hand. A soft breeze swept over her—and her clothes changed with it.
Where she had usually worn the pajama-like things Chilgeomje had prepared for her, she was now dressed in the black one-piece she had worn since the day she first arrived on Earth.
Preparations complete, Seo-ah said,
“Well then—I’ll be back.”
And she moved. Passing through the wall as if it were the most natural thing in the world, she stepped outside, then set her feet on empty air and glided off toward somewhere beyond.
Kang Min-ho watched her go.
“I’m heading out, then.”
“Yeah. Take care.”
A touch of dissatisfaction that Seo-ah had chosen to go out on his watch day flickered and died; a moment later he moved after her.
Outside, Seo-ah murmured,
“Let’s see. KKB Arena should be… that way.”
With each step she took, she folded space upon space and shot forward hundreds of meters at a time.
KKB Arena. Her reason for heading there was nothing complicated.
Valorant—the game she had latched onto a few days ago. In that short span she had climbed all the way to Immortal, the highest rank short of the summit. Immortal was the band of the top 0.3% to 0.03% of players, a realm people called the celestial tier, where nearly everyone played at a quasi-pro level.
She had not quite reached the tier above it—Radiant, Valorant’s final boss, where true pro-level players clustered—but she still found herself in queues with any number of professionals. Which was how she had learned that a Valorant tournament was being held at KKB Arena today.
“Ah—Chilgeomje?”
“What is it, young lady?”
Folding space as she flew toward KKB Arena, Seo-ah had suddenly put a call through to Chilgeomje.
“I heard there’s a Valorant tournament at KKB Arena today. I was wondering if you might be able to get me a ticket.”
“Something like that is no trouble at all.”
He answered as if it were nothing. And would it stop at a mere ticket? If Seo-ah so much as said she wanted to meet the Valorant pros, Chilgeomje would have a seat waiting for her on the spot. He wouldn’t even need to move as the “villain” Chilgeomje. With the power of the corporation he had built, that much was nothing.
And yet—
“Though something of that level should have been well within the reach of the children you took in.”
A cold killing intent threaded through his voice.
He had expanded their authority so they would grant Seo-ah anything she wanted—so what on earth were those two little maggots doing that she had been forced to come to him with a personal request?
Sensing the thought behind his words, Seo-ah smiled gently.
“I called because I wanted to hear your voice for a change. Don’t tell me I made a mistake?”
She spoke in a voice of pure innocence. On the other end of the line, Chilgeomje’s voice cracked in panic.
“A-absolutely not! Not at all! Not in the slightest!”
“I’m glad. Well then—I’ll leave it to you.”
“I’ll have it ready at once.”
The call ended, and by then Seo-ah was already standing in front of KKB Arena. A moment later her phone buzzed, and on the screen appeared the ticket Chilgeomje had sent.
“That was fast.”
Smiling to herself, she walked into Hall 3, where the Valorant tournament was being held.
Except—
She took the seat printed on Chilgeomje’s ticket and waited for the match to begin. The tournament she had been looking forward to never did.
In its place—
“Everybody get your heads down!”
BOOM!
With an explosion, villains stormed in from somewhere and began threatening the crowd, each one flaring their superpowers.
And in Cheon Seo-ah’s eyes, as she looked at those villains, the emotions of displeasure and anger settled for the first time since she had returned to Earth.