The God of Controls' One-Coin Clear
The Fourth Shelter (2)
“Taeyang.”
The Taeyang on screen let out a small snort of laughter.
Taeyang stepped into the inn inside the shelter. Hyeonhye ended the stream in sync with him.
Hyeonhye, who had been watching the chat, muttered under her breath.
“See you tomorrow? Yeah right. Looks like we’ll be back on in half a day. Ugh, my back hurts.”
The first thing Hyeonhye did after ending the broadcast was check on Byeolim.
Byeolim’s house was in the apartment complex right next to Taeyang’s officetel, so she didn’t have far to go.
“Thankfully, she looks fine.”
Like Taeyang, Byeolim lay peacefully inside the capsule with a relaxed expression, as if nothing was wrong.
Their faces were eerily similar—blank and strangely comfortable, just like you’d expect from siblings.
The capsule was legally required to have systems in place for users who remained inside for long periods. It provided nutrition, handled waste, prevented bedsores, and maintained blood circulation.
At first, public opinion had mocked the capsule companies and the government, calling it a pointless way to jack up the price. Now, that very law was saving the lives of Dantalion victims.
In reality, some gamers who had used illegally modified capsules had already suffered severe bedsores.
After confirming Byeolim’s condition, Hyeonhye returned to Taeyang’s officetel, which now felt almost like her own home.
“Sigh… I didn’t even play the game. Why am I so exhausted?”
Hyeonhye sank into the sofa.
It had been an exhausting day, to be fair.
Her job was to stay laser-focused on Taeyang’s situation while constantly scanning chat and community forums for any useful information.
“Food. I’ll just eat and sleep.”
While rubbing her tired eyes from staring at monitors all day and scrolling through delivery options, her smartphone rang.
An unknown number.
Hyeonhye hesitated for a moment, wondering if she should hang up, then answered.
“Hello?”
“Is this Joo Hyeonhye?”
A thin, trembling voice that sounded like it belonged to a middle-aged woman.
Hyeonhye pulled the phone away from her ear and clutched her forehead.
How long had it been since she changed her number? And it was already leaked.
Did the phone carrier sell her information? Or maybe one of the restaurants she ordered from frequently?
“…My son’s friends told me he’s really good at games and made it to the twelfth floor. They said if you’ve heard any rumors, he might be at the shelter. If it’s not too much trouble…”
While pondering how her number had gotten out, Hyeonhye hung up without saying a word.
She wanted to help, but she and Taeyang had already discussed this.
She couldn’t let every single plea affect Taeyang’s play.
In the end, clearing the game was the only way to save everyone.
“But isn’t this a crime too?”
Hyeonhye pouted after ending the call.
Stealing someone else’s phone number.
As Taeyang’s Dantalion streams gained more viewers and influence, incidents like this kept increasing.
Not long ago, his face had been plastered all over the 9 o’clock news.
Former ‘King of Fist’ World Championship champion and professional gamer Yoon Taeyang logs into Dantalion to clear it himself.
His rising fame had brought Hyeonhye some financial benefits, but it wasn’t all good news.
Threats, scams, and rumor-spreading—everything that came with fame—had started targeting her.
“At this rate, they’ll dig up Byeolim’s personal information too.”
In truth, quite a few people already suspected the connection between Taeyang and Byeolim.
Yoon Taeyang. Yoon Byeolim.
They shared the same last name.
The fact that Taeyang had entered the game to save his family only added fuel to their suspicions.
It’s honestly a miracle it hasn’t come out yet.
People were already finding her new number from just a week ago. It wouldn’t be surprising if they figured out the relationship between Byeolim and Taeyang.
“Sigh. But this is the real problem.”
Hyeonhye’s eyes darkened as she read the online articles.
So far, the players Taeyang had killed were almost certainly not real users.
No, they definitely weren’t.
Taeyang had only started playing nearly a month after the Dantalion incident began.
By then, those who were going to die had already died, those who could climb had passed the fifteenth floor, and only those who had given up remained in the shelters.
Besides, real users had noticeably different speech patterns and behavior from NPCs, making them easy to spot.
Users like Messiah who had logged in after the incident were streaming to communicate with the outside world. If Taeyang had encountered any of them, the chat would have let her know immediately.
But the problem was the what if.
What if there was clear evidence that one of the players Taeyang killed had been a real user?
The police or the government might try to interfere with his play.
“What should I do? Should I tell Taeyang to avoid fighting other players?”
But if that affected his gameplay, then what?
And if she just let it be and it really turned into murder, then what?
“Ugh, I don’t know anymore.”
Overwhelmed, Hyeonhye tossed her smartphone aside and buried her face in the sofa.
The phone, now wedged in the corner of the couch, began ringing again, displaying yet another unknown eleven-digit number.
Twelfth-floor shelter inn.
Taeyang lay on the bed with his hands clasped behind his head, lost in thought.
More precisely, he was reviewing everything he had missed while pushing through the stages.
The biggest question on his mind was this.
“…What the hell was that voice?”
It had happened right after he faced Untara and blocked the breath attack head-on.
The moment he was preparing Starburst High Kick – Cannon Form while in his Stormbringer-possessed state.
If his mana hadn’t miraculously stabilized after hearing that voice, Taeyang might have died on the spot from the breath attack.
Of course, he had a rough guess.
Stormbringer: Summons a storm and calls the Wind Spirit King Arasil into the user’s body.
Taeyang suspected that the Wind Spirit King Arasil had probably helped him in that moment.
The mana he had been struggling to control had clearly been wind-attribute mana that came with the possession, so it made sense.
If it really had been the Wind Spirit King Arasil who helped him…
If he could form a direct contract with Arasil and summon her without needing the skill card, it would be an incredible harvest on the level of the Greatest Machinery.
Taeyang, still lying on the bed, frowned.
“I want to check, but it’s so frustrating.”
Skill usage through cards was impossible inside the shelter.
And once he entered a stage, the cooldown would prevent him from using it recklessly. Confirming whether the voice belonged to Arasil had become nearly impossible for now.
After finishing his thoughts, Taeyang got up from the bed.
He had agreed to meet Ran on the first floor after waking up, but he wasn’t planning to head to the next floor right away.
He had been pushing himself too hard lately and fatigue had built up.
His body recovered quickly thanks to the game’s corrections, but the mental strain had been significant.
Especially during the final battle when Benjamin’s magic had struck him directly in the right arm of Atlas—his body had been nearly shattered in that instant.
“First, I’ll talk to Ran and wait until Hyeonhye decides to turn the stream back on.”
While organizing his thoughts, Taeyang entered the tavern on the first floor of the inn and froze at a sight he never expected.
Ran stood there with a troubled expression, surrounded by unfamiliar players.
“This is Ran, right?”
“Her appearance matches exactly what Messiah described. But damn, she’s really pretty.”
“The fan is a dead giveaway.”
“Who the hell are you people? Get out of my way.”
At her sharp response, the crowd backed off a little, but they didn’t lose interest.
“Where’s Taeyang? What did they say he looked like again?”
“A fighter around 180 centimeters tall. Muscular build. He didn’t carry a weapon before, but after finishing this stage he’ll probably have a sword.”
“By the way, where did Messiah go?”
“Yeah, he was just here a moment ago.”
Taeyang stopped walking without realizing it.
What the hell was going on?
At that exact moment, Hyeonhye turned the stream back on.
The chat exploded the moment the stream started.
Messiah?
What the hell was this about?
Then someone grabbed Taeyang’s shoulder.
“Found you.”
Taeyang reflexively shook the hand off and turned around.
White hair.
Eyes gleaming with what looked like madness.
A sword scar running across his entire face.
Taeyang was shocked when he saw the man.
The scar had thrown him off for a second, but considering the situation, it would have been stranger if he hadn’t recognized him.
“M-Messiah?”
“Yoon Taeyang, right?”
The man grinned.
Hyeonhye muttered in a flustered voice.
“Wait, what the hell is…”
“You don’t know anything either?”
At that moment, someone shouted from the other side of the room.
“Messiah’s over there! He’s with some guy!”
“Huh? Isn’t that Yoon Taeyang?”
“That guy is Yoon Taeyang?”
“He’s carrying a single sword, wearing Arkrashon’s Hide armor. The description matches perfectly.”
The users who had been crowding around Ran all rushed toward Taeyang at once.
“Taeyang! What’s going on? I woke up and suddenly everyone’s calling your name…”
I have no idea either.
“Hold on. Let me get a grip on the situation first.”
“Huh? What?”
“Hey! Wait a second! Can we talk for a moment?”
Taeyang grabbed Ran’s wrist and pulled her back into the lodging.
Taeyang figured out what was happening through Hyeonhye.
He had been so shocked that he even turned the stream off for a moment.
“So you’re saying the player named Messiah, who entered the game way before me, arrived at the twelfth-floor shelter right after me? Along with other users?”
About eight users had been swarming around Ran.
Even on the twelfth floor, that was close to the top one percent—true high-rankers.
“Unbelievable. So besides me and him, there were eight more people who entered the game?”
“Ah.”
That made sense.
Things you couldn’t do alone became possible with a group. Courage came with numbers.
Especially if they had a central figure like Messiah to rally around.
“Hmm. I don’t like that at all.”
“What?”
When Ran, who hadn’t been able to follow the conversation, asked, Taeyang explained the situation.
“Ah, I don’t really want to move with those guys.”
“Me neither.”
A deep crease formed between Taeyang’s brows.
“If they follow us, we can’t stop them.”
It was a flaw in Dantalion’s system.
If players were assigned to the same shelter, they would almost always end up in the same stage unless the player count was cut extremely close.
“What should we do? Should I threaten to kill them? Maybe they won’t follow then?”
Hyeonhye explained the situation in the real world. Taeyang rubbed his forehead.
“I slept for one day and everything got this complicated?”
Hyeonhye gave a bitter smile.
“Anyway.”
Taeyang stood up.
“Let’s call Messiah over. We need to hear his side of the story before anything can move forward.”