The Truth Powder
The lead article in the newspaper had also been a piece praising the Alliance, and that was part of the problem.
Why am I like this?
Park Taewoo let out a long, heavy sigh and raked his fingers through his hair.
“Everyone keeps spouting carefree nonsense. It’s driving me up the wall.”
“Aren’t things peaceful right now? Everyone’s finished their contracts······.”
As the man said, it truly was an age of peace and prosperity.
Until only recently the Alliance had been scraping by with a chronic shortage of Golden Rule fragments. In the end every single member had signed contracts with specific Constellations, securing the missing pieces and, on top of that, receiving unique skills from those Constellations. Combat strength had risen sharply. After that they had annihilated every monster pouring through the warps that opened in Korea and had been riding a wave of unbroken victories. On the surface there was nothing left to worry about.
“You know perfectly well that isn’t the real problem.”
Yet Alliance Leader Park Taewoo’s face remained carved from stone.
They had stamped out the immediate fire, but what came after was the true crisis. Overnight he had become the hero who represented Korea, yet even he stood helpless before a disaster no one could resist—an absolute calamity right in front of his eyes.
“That warp wasn’t generated only in Korea, was it?”
That warp.
He meant the red warps that had recently appeared and been confirmed—the exact same kind that had opened just before Delphian fell to the Four Calamities.
The red invasion-type warp we found on Jeju Island last week. We managed to hide it, but if by any chance it’s a precursor to an invasion by the Four Calamities······.
The red warp believed to have formed on Jeju after Delphian’s fall. If it truly heralded the coming of the Four Calamities, there was simply no answer.
And the red warps had not appeared in Korea alone. Three locations, including Korea, had been confirmed in secret so far.
The problem was this:
······The only one expanding is the Jeju warp.
The warp they had hidden was beginning to swell. If that was not the omen of invasion, then what was it? No matter how hard he tried to think positively, only despair remained.
Why of all places! Why Jeju Island? On this entire vast Earth, why there······!
The Hero Alliance had only just begun to plant its roots in Korea. If they could simply seize a city in Pangenia, everything would be perfect. Build a base, take flight—nothing but a golden future had seemed to await them. But if the Four Calamities descended on Jeju, that hope would turn to ash in a single breath.
According to the public notice, once the remaining four neutral cities fell, the Four Calamities would turn their eyes toward Earth. Most likely toward Korea. Toward Jeju. The probability was overwhelming.
Only a handful inside the Alliance knew the secret. How much longer could they keep it buried?
The Alliance Leader unlocked his phone and played the saved video once more.
“Respected warriors. Bring me the Hydragon’s Soul. Then I myself will take command and subjugate the Four Calamities. ······ Time is short.”
The brief recording Gracia had left behind had already surpassed ten million views. In the comments, talk of the Four Calamities and of Gracia’s strange condition dominated.
Hair turned pure white. The once-powerful frame was gone; he looked as though he had attained some kind of enlightenment. Whatever he had endured in the meantime remained unknown, yet one fact was crystal clear: if the Four Calamities invaded, Gracia was their only hope.
Having reached his decision, Alliance Leader Park Taewoo spoke.
“Summon every Alliance member.”
“Right now?”
“Yes. Immediately.”
A full assembly was rare—especially at a moment like this.
“···May I ask the reason?”
“We are going to comb every inch of Eunpyeong-gu and find the player who possesses the Hydragon’s Soul.”
In the earliest days of the monster invasion, a player in Eunpyeong-gu had summoned a Hydragon and slain a Giant Mantis. If the summoning had taken place on Earth, the Soul must have been used. The problem was that the player was unregistered—a recluse. Recluses never wanted their identities exposed. Naturally they buried themselves so deep that no one could find them.
“And once we find him, what do you intend to do?”
“···Even if I have to drop to my knees and beg.”
“············ Issuing an emergency full-summons order.”
When the Alliance Leader spoke in that tone, it meant the situation was that desperate. Locating a recluse would not be easy, yet no one fretted. With every Alliance member committed, failure was impossible.
“Then let’s make a bet.”
Number One’s final question—whether Hudson was a player—I answered lightly.
“······A bet? On whether Number Two, Hudson, is a player or not?”
“Of course. If what I saw and what you saw differ, a bet is the only way. Why? Losing your nerve?”
I pressed hard. From our very first meeting I had been oddly hung up on Number One. Unlike every other powerhouse I had faced, I could never pin down his true nature. That was no longer the case.
All of this is a show.
A show. Pure theater staged solely for the audience. The grounds for that certainty were plentiful.
First:
On day one, Number Sixty-Eight vanished.
The man who had reacted to the news of Delphian’s fall disappeared without a trace the next day. Either he had been confirmed as a player and killed, or he had been locked away somewhere. Nothing strange so far.
The problem was the day after that.
The following day, at the auction house, Number Seventy-Six had his head severed by the Death God.
The decapitated man was Number Seventy-Six. Yet it was odd. Why kill him in the middle of the auction? They could have disposed of him quietly, the way they had handled Sixty-Eight. If a reliable method of identifying players existed, the smart move was to eliminate them in secret. There was zero reason to sound an alarm and sow chaos.
That was not the only peculiarity.
After death they sprinkled white powder, and an Earthling’s face appeared.
From a player’s viewpoint the scene was horrifying. Even a corpse had crossed the boundary between login and logout. Viewed from another angle, however, it was still suspicious.
Was that really the player’s true appearance? What if they simply altered the exterior?
The Empire already knew players existed. People who had spent ages watching and rejecting players could not possibly be ignorant of Earth. A corpse was just a corpse; changing only the outer form would have been trivial. Even if it truly had been the body from Earth, why sprinkle the powder only after death?
···Before we headed to Kramdel, when I met the Corpse Crow, something similar happened.
Two children trapped in a dungeon—a boy and a girl—had been bait crafted by the Corpse Crow to lure players. Yet their exteriors had unmistakably been those of Earthlings. Why would children summoned as players wear Earthling faces?
Back then the Corpse Crow had read the children’s memories and recreated them. The result was a pair of Earth children no player could resist.
I had nearly fallen for it myself. The only way the Corpse Crow could have known the original appearances of the two summoned children was by scouring their memories. I had already witnessed the technique of reshaping a body from a dead person’s recollections once before. If the white powder worked on the same principle······
Above all,
one more detail nagged at me.
Why incinerate the body right there on the spot?
It could not have been mere intimidation. Perhaps they simply did not want anyone examining it for long—afraid the “show” would be exposed. If the form had been reconstructed from memory alone, a subtle wrongness might have been noticed, the same way I had seen through the two children and turned the Corpse Crow’s trap against it.
If my hypothesis is correct······ there is no reliable method of distinguishing players.
For the moment I had no choice but to trust that hypothesis.
Number One spoke again.
“Very well. What shall we wager? The Throne of Light you offered?”
“I don’t know. Do you have something of equal worth prepared?”
When the Baal Armor had come up for auction I had not bid. Therefore the odds that he knew what I truly wanted were low.
“Hmm. Preparing a Unique-grade item takes time, but······ how about two of the pieces I displayed at the auction? Their value should be roughly comparable.”
“Three.”
“······Greedy, aren’t you.”
No compromise. If he refused even this, he would be admitting that what he had seen was wrong. He merely shrugged.
“We’ll do it that way. But we will select with absolute certainty.”
A smile touched Number One’s lips.
······Still an unreadable bastard. Yet he seemed convinced Hudson was a player, and he spoke as though he possessed a method of confirmation.
“From this moment, those on the right will place their hands into this ‘Truth Powder.’”
At the Silver Fox Mask’s words, black-hooded cultists carried forward a single oak barrel.
Can’t see inside.
If I could get a clear look I might identify it, but from my position nothing was visible. Only a small hole large enough for a hand had been cut. The exterior of the barrel itself was coated with every kind of substance imaginable, sealing the interior from any inspection.
They’re guarding against high-tier observation skills—or the Great Sage.
That was why they had made certain no one could examine it. I could not identify the contents either, yet my mind raced.
Something that reshapes the exterior according to memory······
Was there an item that worked not only on the dead but on the living as well? Even if it was not powder, that was fine. If this entire affair was a performance, the powder itself could be nothing more than misdirection. Instantly cremating the corpse fit the same pattern.
A name flashed through my thoughts.
Supreme Appearance Transformation Potion.
······It existed.
The Supreme Appearance Transformation Potion—the treasure Isaac had hunted so desperately. A legendary elixir that perfectly altered one’s exterior into any desired form. If that was what they were using, the “desired form” would of course be drawn from memory: the most intense recollection, the most vivid image. Disguising it as “Truth Powder” and forcing a transformation into the Earth appearance—that had to be the plan.
“Dip your hand into the powder and you will return to your true shape. Of course, only the guilty will change.”
He was explaining at length. Until now he had simply done as he pleased; now he was deliberately spelling everything out—clearly intending to provoke a reaction only from players.
“Number Two. Place your hand inside the barrel.”
Hudson’s eyes gave the slightest tremor. Yet if my reasoning was correct, the barrel held the Supreme Appearance Transformation Potion. Nothing else forcibly rewrote a living body to match its most powerful memory. Should I warn him not to picture Oliver?
Tell a person not to think of something and they think of it harder—that’s human nature.
Even without prompting, Hudson would already be visualizing only his Earth self, only Oliver. Fanning a fire that was already burning was pointless. I had to divert the thought completely.
—Hudson. When we return this time, we will be able to fully awaken Serengeti.
—······.
I spoke through the Golden Rule line. Hudson gave no answer. From the start he had not even glanced in my direction, determined not to bring the slightest harm upon me, shouldering everything alone.
—Picture it. Completely reuniting with Serengeti. If the two of you hold a ceremony, I will stand as the officiant.
—······.
—Imagine Serengeti in a wedding dress, walking down the aisle with you. And it will not remain imagination. It will become reality soon enough.
I could not lose Hudson here. If the truth came out, we would have to escape together. If the warp had merely been suspended, Hell could restart it.
Whoosh—
Hudson thrust his hand into the oak barrel.
Then—
Whoooooosh—!
Hudson’s form began to change, from the crown of his head to the tips of his toes.
“I-It changed!”
“But that appearance······.”
“······The Pure White Knight?”
He had become the Pure White Knight, Serengeti—the figure everyone knew as Knight King Wilhelm’s closest retainer, standing tall in her pure-white armor exactly as she had always been.
“·········Impossible.”
For the first time, Number One’s brow furrowed.
Begin.
······.
Hudson slowly closed his eyes.
Truth Powder.
The poison he had witnessed at the auction house—the substance that rewrote a body into its Earth form. For any player it was a lethal toxin that must never touch the skin, yet there had been no other choice.