Episode 88: ?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!

Lee Sua.

Look as many times as they liked, the person on the screen before their eyes was still Lee Sua.

"…."

The three members of Sua's group chat sat as if time had stopped, staring at nothing but the screen. Their heads, of course, were another story. Everything in there had been flipped upside down. It was a complete disaster.

First, Heukgom, his hair buzzed down to the scalp.

…A hidden-camera prank to celebrate my enlistment? Am I being played?

Beside him, Mouse—Kim Seona—her expression gone faintly grave.

I knew deepfake crime was running wild, but it doesn't feel real until it happens to a friend. No, wait. That's weird. For a crime, they made her look better than the original…?

And at last living up to her nickname, Wonsung-ing.

Fuck? Fuck fuck! Fuck? Fuck…? Fuck!

Pickled as she was in online communities, the swearing came out first. She had reached a realm in which every emotion could be expressed through profanity alone.

Wi Ji-hye had told them to compose themselves. The three, however, were well on their way to losing their minds. Fainting on the spot would not have been strange. Something in the world had gone seriously, fundamentally wrong.

It wasn't that they disliked Sua. Absolutely not. She was simply too far from common sense.

The feeling of a sun hung in the night sky? Of water flowing from the earth up into the heavens? Of Alexander Graham Bell inventing the telephone, only to find a hundred missed calls already waiting on it? It didn't make sense.

Wi Ji-hye had only laughed once.

What are you laughing at!

Whoa, Lee Sua. Fuck, no, fuck… Lee Sua…

….

The three felt their minds coming apart at the seams. Common sense collapsing was bound to hit a human being like a hammer.

Sua, meanwhile, was not watching the screen.

The movie? Please. She'd already watched it with the editing team! The reactions of the ones sitting in the row ahead were far more entertaining.

And so, at present, Sua was—

…Wow. I didn't know you people could even make faces like that.

It felt a little like watching arctic foxes whimper after taking a smack to the head.

Delicious. That her friends could look that utterly stupid, and that she herself was the cause.

This is honestly too funny, and they have no idea, do they?

These were friends who had always carried themselves without a single opening in front of her, and now they looked dumber than anything. Eyes blown wide, necks craned forward—every little piece of it was a treat to watch.

Hehe. Idiots. Complete idiots.

Sua quietly closed the Privilege window. Read the room.

That was when the whispering started in the row ahead.

"…This really doesn't make any sense."

Heukgom shook his buzzed head like he meant to rattle something loose.

"That's supposed to be Sua?"

"It's Sua. Definitely Sua."

"No, seriously, what even…."

Around then, Mouse cut in, as serious as she could manage.

"I'll file the report."

"…What's she on about now?"

A moment later, the three turned their eyes back to the screen.

Keeping up the chatter would obviously be a nuisance, and leaping out of their seats would be just as rude to everyone trying to watch. Even so, the conversation had paid off in its own way. They had, at least, become certain of one thing: Wi Ji-hye was Sua.

"…."

They went on denying reality anyway.

Yeah, right!

Sua delivering a line like that was absurd all by itself!

You're telling me you said that? You? You, who think "scratch my back and I'll scratch yours" is "scratch my snack and I'll snatch yours"?

…A twelve-syllable line? How'd she even memorize that?

Sua, do you even know what it means when you say it…?

Their friendship with her ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠ran deep, and so did their affection. Every time Sua unleashed some unholy typo in chat, they were the ones who corrected it, which only made the shock land harder.

Why did your intelligence go up…?

"…."

But nothing is a greater medicine than time, or so they say. And human beings really were animals of adaptation.

"…."

The astonishing part was that the three were already beginning, little by little, to accept that Sua was up there on the screen. And so the argument in their heads began, slowly, to turn—from why is Sua there to how much has Sua actually pulled off.

But.

"…?"

They ran straight into another shock.

So far the only person to appear was Wi Ji-hye—Sua—and the sheer amount of dialogue belonging to her made the implication unmistakable. Sua was the lead.

"…."

The shocks were piling up by the second, but they tried, anyway, to hold out for the end of the film. Short films run much shorter than ordinary ones, don't they? So once the whole thing was over….

What is this now.

Oh, this is insane.

Oh, this is fucked.

All three nearly launched themselves out of their seats at once. For a second it felt like a current had run through the chairs.

They knew. They knew perfectly well the scene mattered. It was just too hard to accept. A world in which Sua was the greatest under heaven was not allowed. That, at least, was not allowed.

It wasn't a question of liking it or not. A world like that simply should not exist.

A universe where Sua was the strongest? That universe was obviously headed for disaster. It would collapse. Or had the world already collapsed, and was that why Sua got to be number one?

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

Anyway.

"…."

They glanced sideways, hoping there might be some way to slip out, but no. Wedged in the middle as they were, they couldn't climb across the audience's knees to escape.

The three sighed and traded looks. Nothing for it. They would watch until it ended.

"Haaaa…."

The moment Heukgom folded his arms and shut his eyes, Wonsung-ing reached over and forcibly peeled his eyelids back open. If she had to watch this alone, it would be unfair. He was going to watch it too.

Crazy bitch, what are you doing.

You watch too. Keep your eyes right on Sua.

By then Sua was alone on the screen, swinging a sword and speaking with a woman's voice laid under the scene like narration.

Sword was a quiet fusion period piece, but the pleasure of watching it tease its mysteries apart in philosophical terms was considerable.

Above all, it was nothing like simply reading lines off a page. It was a visual medium, and as the conversation went on, Sua could be seen drawing a clean, brilliant path with the blade.

A sword dance, stiff at first, then gradually softening. By the time it had become an acrobatic feat they couldn't even imagine copying, the three had crossed the uncanny valley and come out atop a perfectly pleasant mountain. And so now, little by little, they were tipping into admiration.

Why is she good at this, though?

Okay, but she's lowkey got the vibe.

These days, with AI tech….

Of the three, whose feelings were turning strange, one was flustered far more than the rest. Wonsung-ing.

The face is wild enough, and memorizing the lines is wild enough, but the movement is the wildest. How'd she even do that…?

Wonsung-ing was addicted to online communities. So back when dance challenges had been everywhere, she had of course asked Sua to do one with her. The method was simple. Put on a short bit of music, hit one choreography together, done.

And how had Sua danced, back then?

…Like a cockroach that had just been hit with insecticide.

So why were the movements on the screen now so precise? Why so smooth? It felt like her brain was overloading, ready to burst.

But when human beings meet a phenomenon they cannot understand, they strain to make sense of it somehow, and Wonsung-ing was no exception. Clues began flashing through her head, one after another.

First: Sua hadn't logged into the game lately.

She just quit every game, out of nowhere.

Even in the days when part-time work had been grinding ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠her down, Sua had gamed like a maniac. No—working had only made her game harder, like a shut-in. She had to blow off the built-up stress, or so she claimed.

…So this time she put in that much effort? Without even time to game?

Come to think of it, Sua had said recently that she was busy. She'd said it was hard, too. Had she gone into closed-door training? Entirely alone, unable to tell anyone, groaning her way through it…?

No. No, that can't be it.

But Wonsung-ing soon shook her head.

It still doesn't make any sense, though.

Because this truly flew in the face of common sense.

She doesn't even understand that the earth is round, so how's she acting with a brain like that? How's she surviving an industry this brutal?

And yet, soon enough, she had no choice but to accept it. She couldn't begin to know what Sua had done during the blank stretch she knew nothing about—but the Sua captured on the screen right now was excellent. No. Close to perfect.

Sua, of course, was still watching the three of them.

Praise her! Applaud! Be even more shocked!

Yeah, yeah. I like you just like that.

But then her heart started thumping, hard.

…Why are you suddenly watching so seriously? Now I'm the one getting nervous.

The three had sunk completely into Sword. The momentum reversed. Now Sua was the one trembling.

Well, anyway. Word's out that I'm acting.

She'd been fretting over how to tell them, and this was pretty fun in its own way. Thinking about it, even after Special Task Force 808 aired, they wouldn't realize right away that it was Sua. They'd take her for Lee Su-an.

Sua scratched at her cheek.

Explaining how I practiced is going to be really awkward, though….

Well, of course it would. She could hardly explain the Special Privilege.

But she wasn't without an answer.

"Senior, don't worry. You've got me, haven't you?"

"…This one's dangerous. I'll be advising you too."

She kept two enormous weapons in the world of her mind, after all. Right. The two of them would advise her. Trust Yu-han-Sua and Ji-hye-Sua, and nothing too serious was likely to go wrong.

All right. I've seen enough of my friends' reactions.

Only then did Sua prick her ears toward the other ones.

She was realizing it only now: the people stirring in this space weren't only her friends. Unexpectedly, even audience members who had never met Sua were murmuring quite a bit.

"Honey, didn't you say you were going to the bathroom?"

"…Let's watch a little longer. It's more fun than I expected."

Nothing major, but from where Sua sat, they were the kind of reactions that couldn't help but leave her fluttering and proud. When she worked up the nerve to look around a little more openly, everyone was staring holes through the screen.

For ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠them, it was only natural. They hadn't really expected much of a short film, and yet Sword had given them at least more than that.

A fine shiver of awareness unfurled—Sua drew up Kim Yu-han's razor-sharp senses.

"The structure's pretty solid, actually."

"The sword dance feels good. Elegant."

"Loved the philosophical debate of the blade. Felt like the movements were carrying meaning."

"The actress is pretty. Maybe I'll look up her profile after this."

"…But doesn't she look kind of scary?"

There it was. The sound of an arctic fox being praised within an inch of her life.

Right then.

"…!"

Everyone's eyes went wide, her three friends included.

Huh? Why is this person in a short film?

Seo Yeon-ju? Seo Yeon-ju? Seo Yeon-ju…?

Because the one who had appeared with a sword drawn was Seo Yeon-ju.

The friends' minds began, slowly, to haze over. And no wonder. Inside that screen, the famous Seo Yeon-ju was calling Sua Master, Master? They felt like they were genuinely about to lose their minds!

The rest of the audience was just as startled, and for a moment the whole space fell quiet. Everyone had started to sink in that deeply.

And at the same time, the phones belonging to the members of Sua's group chat began to light up. A notification from the group chat was the cause. Someone had started carpet-bombing it with messages.

…Right. The person most worked up, just now, was somebody else entirely.