Streaming (1)

Jang Siwoon held the die out to me, casual as could be.

"Want to roll it, Jisan?"

"……."

"You don't want to?"

When I hesitated, staring down at the die, she immediately read what was on my mind. She probably worried I felt pressured by it.

"No, it's not that."

I shook my head and answered right away. It was simply that Jang Siwoon — never one to hang back or play it timid — had suddenly stepped aside like this, and I found it strange.

"It's just… it's odd seeing you sit one out, Siwoon."

"…I'm not exactly a lucky person, you know. This thing is pure luck."

Trust me, I wasn't much luckier myself.

Watching her mouth twist with conflicted feeling, I could guess she'd dredged up some bad memories of her own misfortune.

'When I was little, my life really did unfold as easily as my name promised. Sniff… just keep letting me coast along forever, why don't you—'

That's right. Back when we were holed up in that cave with Go Gyumin, Jang Siwoon had sobbed out almost exactly those words.

Since bad luck was something I could sympathize with well enough, I had no intention of picking at that wound.

"Then I'll roll."

When I took the die from her, Jang Siwoon nodded and thanked me.

The Student's next steps would now be decided by my hand. I took one deep breath and threw.

"A four."

Fwip—

The Student marched four squares out from the starting tile at the heart of the royal palace, and just as with Jang Siwoon, a Sanctuary appeared.

"Looks like the Student opens with a Sanctuary too. Not bad at all. Nice roll, Jisan."

"Ah, haha. Thanks…"

Being praised ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠for nothing more than throwing a die — was that proof we'd gotten fairly close? Feeling sheepish, I let out an awkward laugh.

"I'll select my resource. Give me the question."

He flows so smoothly he doesn't even need to communicate.

Watching the Student carry on his own solitary play, I felt admiration — and beneath it, a quiet unease. He was so overflowing with certainty that I had an ominous premonition that that rigid, upright body of his might snap clean in two at any moment.

Fwip—

Only when the riddle appeared did the Student glance back at me, as if confirming I was needed after all. Unlike Seth's, this one asked no question. We had to deduce what these lines symbolized. Once again, we'd be solving a puzzle tied to Apollo.

"…Mister. What is this? It's just some poem."

Truth. Silence. Sun. Body.

Before answering, I turned the intersection of those words over in my head. I didn't have every myth in the world memorized by heart, so it took a moment to retrace my memory.

"Burned in the sun, you'd turn to black ash — that's what it means, right?"

Ah.

At Jang Siwoon's word black, a sleeping memory snapped its eyes open.

I leaned toward the board and delivered the answer in clear, deliberate pronunciation, loud enough for the Student to hear.

"Student. The answer is the crow."

"The crow?"

"There's a myth about Apollo and the crow. In that story, the crow was a bird with white feathers — a messenger who carried the prophecies of Apollo, god of prophecy."

The crow faithfully carried out Apollo's every command. It relayed his prophecies to humans, and carried news of the human world back to him in turn.

"But one day, the crow caught Apollo's human lover in the act of infidelity — and delivered the report exactly as it had ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠seen it."

"Oh no."

"Apollo sentenced his lover to death. Only later did he realize he'd made a mistake."

Whether the lover's affair had been real, or merely the crow's misreading, differs depending on which version of the tale you hear. Either way, Apollo clutched his dead lover and grieved — then turned all that fury on the crow.

"So he burned the crow in the sun's heat and turned it black? Gods are seriously petty."

"Noona. That god is standing right next to me, so kindly shut up."

Jang Siwoon clicked her tongue, and the Student hastily hushed her in a tiny voice. Presumably the solid-bodied Apollo standing at his side was intimidating enough.

"That is correct."

Fwip—

A clump of light materialized before the Student. Following Seth's clod of earth, the resources needed to raise the walls of Troy now numbered two.

"Yes!"

The Student threw both hands up and cheered at how smoothly the game was unfolding.

Not much longer until the defensive wall is complete.

The Student stood one square short of the temple tile, with two resources already in hand. By every measure, his march had been respectable.

"Damn it!"

The middle-aged woman swore out loud, raw impatience getting the better of her. This was a merciless arena of confrontation where no allowance would be made, not even against the Student. If she couldn't break him, she was the one who would become a Tower Part — of course her heart was racing.

The middle-aged man had no room to spare for words of encouragement either; he rolled his die in silence.

"A five."

Fwip—

The woman advanced five squares at a brisk pace. Stopping one tile short of the model gate, she studied her Leaflet intently.

One correct answer and she'd claim an event card.

"That is incorrect!"

"Wh-what?!"

Perhaps she'd been too tense — the answer she stammered out was wrong. When Athena coldly shook her head to announce the failure, the woman hung her head.

"Jisan, at this rate the final war won't be all that hard."

"I know, right."

Jang Siwoon and I murmured quietly to each other. We couldn't purely enjoy the tide running in our favor. Win, and we would have to watch the other side breathe their last.

Still — to survive, I have no choice but to put myself first.

Every time I caught myself nursing presumptuous sympathy, the ballet dancers I'd walked past floated up before my eyes. Yang Myeonghyeon, too, swept away into the dark.

"Jisan, you roll again this time. You're our team's ace, after all."

"Throwing dice has nothing to do with ability, but… sure."

With her saying that, the die felt a touch lighter in my hand.

"A two."

The Student advanced to one tile before the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠temple. One correct answer, and a special card was his.

Fwip—

The Student's face brightened the moment he finished reading — he even clapped, as if he knew the answer cold.

"I know this one too. It's that story about Daphne you told us earlier, right, Mister?"

"Right."

Daphne, whom Apollo loved. To flee him, she had transformed into a laurel tree. And Apollo, in her honor, wove a crown from laurel leaves. That is how the laurel wreath became the symbol of honor throughout Greece and Rome.

"The answer is the laurel tree!"

"That is correct."

Apollo declared it with a stately smile. Whereupon the middle-aged woman shot Athena a defiant glare.

"Isn't their board's puzzle way too easy?!"

"The difficulty is identical on both boards. I, goddess of wisdom, stand beside you — it is merely that your performance has been negligible."

"You just stand there. You haven't lifted a finger to help."

The woman bowed her head and poured out her grievances. Her mind was so hopelessly tangled that she seemed to have lost her fear of the goddess entirely.

With the board so clearly tipping toward Troy, the middle-aged man — die in hand — suddenly thrust his arm up into the air.

"C'mon, ma'am! We got this!"

"That's the spirit, mister! Roll us a good one!"

Forced cheering, just to psych each other up. My apologies, mid-desperate-battle as we were — but it looked like a comedy sketch.

"A three."

"You have got to be kidding me!"

But as it happened, the number the man threw carried him exactly onto the Student's tile. At that exquisite figure, the middle-aged woman flipped in an instant and shrieked at the top of her lungs.

"Well, what do you know. Saw that coming."

The middle-aged man only scratched his head, embarrassment and tangled feelings mixed all over his face.

A standoff already.

I wanted to gather a little more resources, and to find a way to bleed the Greek army's supplies dry. Buying time was surely what the Greeks wanted too.

Fwip—

"Resource collection!"

The moment her Leaflet lit up, the woman shouted out her action. Just as everyone predicted, she was playing to put off the confrontation for as long as possible.

"That is correct."

On top of that, she answered Athena's riddle correctly this time.

A mass of mana took shape, and the woman lit up with relief. Now the Greek army needed only a stamina resource to complete the Trojan Horse. Then it was a matter of advancing onto the royal palace tile of Troy and breaching the castle through the standoff — victory complete.

"Student. Then I think we should head for the outer gate too and pick up a wall resource. And while we're at it, we can look for a way to drain their resources."

I whispered quietly to the Student so the middle-aged woman on the other team couldn't hear. Our conversation took place the same way a phone call did, so as long as we kept our voices down, it wouldn't carry to her.

But the Student, who had listened silently to my explanation, suddenly shook his head side to side, firm and final.

"No. I want to end it here."

"Excuse me?"

"Even if I end it here, you can still gather one more resource or so, Mister. The wall defense is more than enough."

Excessive ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠confidence and certainty oozed from his every word. That particular audacity that burns so hot in the young. Beautiful, yes — but in a survival game like this, it was also a gamble that could cut both ways.

"Seems there's no need to wait, then."

Without asking for our agreement, the Student looked straight up at Apollo.

"Lord Apollo. It's my turn — before I roll the die, I'm free to take some impulsive action or whatever I like, correct?"

"That is so, human. Anything is permitted, save for the acts that become available only after answering a question."

"Then the beings watching my actions include the gods as well — am I right?"

As the Student piled up questions to pave the way for his move, Apollo studied him with an unreadable expression.

"Human who has chosen the path of fate. I shall grant you a prophecy."

A prophecy, huh.

From Apollo, god of prophecy no less than Prometheus, it would be worth hearing. Not only the Student — everyone held their breath, waiting on Apollo's words.

"Light, not darkness, shall walk beside you."

"Not bad."

A different fate from the Greek man swallowed by darkness, then. Hope and despair crossed the faces of the middle-aged woman and the Student in turn.

Carrying Apollo's prophecy on his back, the Student grew only more certain, and spoke without another moment's deliberation.

"Perk activation."

Neither a god's special ability nor a resource-gathering choice — the personal perk of an individual Visitor.

So that's how it's possible…!

Fwip—

Live streaming? That's…

A window in classic system design, entirely unlike the paper-textured Leaflet. Text scrolling past in rapid succession. And again and again, words appeared that belonged to a completely different genre from the museum's exhibits or its perks.

…It looked exactly like an internet broadcast window.

"Oh, hey — it's even got the gods on it."

Where had all his earlier passivity gone? The Student was radiating pure, uncut confidence. And I feel a bit bad saying this about him, but — he reminded me of a certain man we'd met on the Byeoljubujeon (Tale of the Rabbit) quest.

"Mister, I'm not at the silver-button level or anything, but I'm a gaming YouTuber with a pretty decent subscriber count."

The Student laid his identity bare. Now I finally understood why his perk happened to be live streaming.

"When it comes to game-related calculations, I'm probably every bit as good as you, Mister."

Perhaps because he'd stepped into the world of his main genre, his confidence had tipped clean over into arrogance.

"Student, what the hell is this! I avoided the standoff, didn't I!"

The moment the Student suddenly whipped out his perk, the middle-aged woman bristled, flustered and furious. The Student studied her quietly for a moment. Then he slowly opened his mouth.

"But my subscribers are telling me not to let you get away with it."