The Heavenly Demon and the Heavenly Demon (6)
After delivering the final blow, I found myself facing a black screen. I rose to my feet, glancing at Baru who was sleeping peacefully beneath the moonlight. That fellow seems to spend nearly half the day with her eyes closed. Even if she possesses the body of a divine beast, she shouldn't let her behavior and habits turn completely beastly. With such idle thoughts running through my mind, I manipulated the game's functions and returned once more to the battlefield where I had been fighting against myself.
The land, which had originally shown no signs of life, was now in utter ruin from our clash. Cracks spiderwebbed across the earth, craters pockmarked the ground as if meteorites had rained down in succession, and the very spot where we had collided last still swirled with the dark red energy of the Heavenly Demon Divine Art. It had become a place where ordinary people wouldn't dare set foot for quite some time.
I stepped lightly onto that devastated ground and made my way toward where my other self was still radiating her presence. In the game, I lay sprawled out on my back, gazing up at the night sky slowly turning a deep shade of blue. I walked over and sat down beside her, slipping my long pipe between my lips. The moment the smoke I exhaled rose toward the heavens, the version of me within the game spoke.
"Old hag? Do I look like an old woman to you?"
She's strangely sharp about things like this. She only realized the truth after I practically spelled out that I was her. Yes, I have lived more than twice the life you have now. But I won't tell her that. If I did, it was obvious she would call me an old hag with complete sincerity.
"What exactly is so wretched about me?"
She noticed? Well, I did get rather excited about it, so it's no surprise she picked up on it. From the perspective of the me inside the game, it must feel like I've spoiled the road she has to walk. Thinking about it that way, I suppose I did something I shouldn't have. However, I have no intention of apologizing. I gave her teachings that one couldn't receive even by staking their entire life—why should I feel sorry? On the contrary, I believe this fellow should be grateful.
And besides.
As I chuckled at the game version of myself's lament, she suddenly sprang up, snatched the long pipe from my hand, and brought it to her own lips. After taking a deep drag, she exhaled the smoke with a sigh and furrowed her brow.
"Does it not mean that as time passed, I broke free from the chains of addiction?"
It is true that I overcame the addiction. I simply couldn't shake the habit. To the listener, it might sound like the same thing, but the two are completely different. This seat is not addicted to tobacco itself, but rather to the act of smoking from a long pipe. I kept that thought to myself. If I said any more, she would definitely call me an old hag.
"What is it?"
"Do not ask."
I know what she wants to ask. She must want to know about the many trials she will face in the future, about what she will lose, and about the fanaticism that will engulf her. Curiosity about the future is something that has existed from the distant past all the way to the distant modern era, so her question is perfectly natural. However, this seat has no intention of telling her anything.
"Because it is meaningless."
This world has already changed far too much from what I knew. With the influx of modern users as variables, the world I knew has already vanished. The world of Hwaryong Muin is nothing more than another realm modeled after the Murim I once lived in. No matter what this seat says, it would likely amount to nothing but nonsense. Rather than causing confusion, it is better to say nothing at all. When I shook my head with that thought, the version of me in the game pouted.
"Heh. The loser sure has a lot to say. Has the first principle of the Heavenly Demon Cult changed?"
When I deliberately mentioned the law of the strong, the version of me in the game clicked her tongue loudly enough for me to hear. If she didn't want to suffer such humiliation, she should have won against this seat. Why couldn't she defeat me and end up enduring this insult? With that meaning behind my words, the game version of myself clicked her tongue again.
"Do you have something to ask? It is a path you have already walked, after all."
Until the outsiders arrived and you destroyed the righteous sects, it wouldn't have been much different from the path this seat walked. But after the outsiders appeared in this world, an entirely different story must have unfolded. That is what I am curious about and wish to hear directly from you. The story of when the outsiders first entered. The feelings you had as a possessor who came from the modern world and saw those who treated this world as a game.
The moment I tried to say the word "game," my mouth closed unnaturally. It was just like when I had tried to say something other than my username, Mint Choco Pineapple Pizza. Does this game not allow the word "game" to be spoken? Then I suppose I must twist my words.
The game version of myself asked back as if it were a strange question, and I was momentarily taken aback. That was not the answer I had expected. This seat is a possessor. I am a stranger who fell into the world of Murim without knowing why. Therefore, by meeting and conversing with the outsiders, one would naturally come to understand their true nature. No matter how much the game's functions block talk of the modern world, one couldn't help but notice the differences between the people of Murim and the outsiders. So why is she reacting like this? It almost seems as if she knows nothing about the modern world at all.
"I will ask a few more things. When you saw the various foods created by the outsiders, what did you think?"
"When you saw the various characteristics of the outsiders, what did you think?"
I continued to ask. About the differences between the people of Murim and the modern users. Even though I had already guessed the answer midway through, I kept asking because I wanted to deny it. I asked, and asked, and asked again. It was only when the version of Baek Hwaryeong in the game began to grow curious about my intentions that I posed the final question.
Even when I spoke the name I had possessed before falling into Murim, Baek Hwaryeong merely tilted her head in confusion.
I see. So you do not know the name Baek Ara. You do not know this seat's previous life. You do not know the wretched man who lived in the modern world. It is a story from a very distant past. Back when I had not been possessed for very long, I once pondered this. When I possessed this world, what had happened to the original human named Baek Hwaryeong who existed here? The question did not last long. I never found an answer. I had simply set the matter aside because soon after, I was too busy struggling to survive to spare any thought for it. And now, after so much time had passed, the answer stood before me.
The human named Baek Hwaryeong had certainly existed. She existed before I took her place, but she had her body stolen by the variable known as me. In this world where the bug called "me" had disappeared, Baek Hwaryeong stood exactly where she was meant to be. Therefore, it was perfectly natural that she could not guess the true identity of the outsiders. She was someone who had never once seen the scenery of the modern world. Seeing the outsiders would only make her think they were fascinating.
She and I were the same person, yet not the same person. We must have spent the same childhood, faced the same crises and trials, gained the same enlightenment, carried out the same revenge, and established the same new Cult. Yet she and I were different. Since our very foundations were different from the start, how could we be the same person? Realizing this, a chuckle escaped me. I see. Indeed, how could they insert a human who knows this world is a game into the game itself? That must be why that Baekho fellow came looking for this seat and sent me back to my original world.
As I continued thinking, I saw the sun rising and dyeing the world in crimson light. Has it already become this late? In real-world time, it must already be morning.
Baek Hwaryeong spoke while looking at the sunrise.
To care about such things. She truly is a different person. If it were this seat, I would have done whatever I pleased regardless of what chaos erupted in the Cult.
With those words, I removed the jade butterfly hairpin that held my hair in place and held it out to Baek Hwaryeong.
That's right. This was something Mother had prepared even before I fell into Murim, and it was the gift I received on Baek Hwaryeong's birthday after my possession. It is something that holds memories for this seat as well. It is the gift given by the one who helped me cling to life during the time I stayed in the Heavenly Demon Cult, wishing only for death. However, I believe the one who should truly possess it is not me, but Baek Hwaryeong. Rather than a lawless one who arbitrarily stole another's place, would Mother not wish for the gift to go to the child she herself gave birth to?
Baek Hwaryeong stared blankly at the hairpin in my hand before letting out a small chuckle.
Heh. Why is this one giving a more mature answer than this seat? At this rate, I look like the child here. This seat could not let go of her lingering attachment to Mother even until the moment I came to the modern world.
"Huh?"
Baek Hwaryeong rummaged through her robes and pulled out a hairpin that was exactly identical in shape to the one Mother had gifted.