Chapter 7
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 7
Chapter Title: SF Gallery Manager
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[Inviting you to a virtual space.]
At the same time, I felt my body lift into the air with a whoosh, closed my eyes, and opened them again. The space had changed.
A wooden floor.
Bottles of liquor lined up along the walls.
Jazz music flowing softly.
And the tickle of alcohol in my nose.
This was a tavern.
A pretty atmospheric one, at that.
"Huh?"
Looking down at my hands, I was dressed in ordinary clothes, but my reflection in the gleaming liquor bottles showed a handsome man with brown hair and black eyes.
...Come to think of it, I haven't seen my own face once since coming to this world?
I stared blankly at the unfamiliar face for a moment before snapping out of it and looking around. The tavern was empty.
Except for a glass of whiskey and a single sheet of paper on the bar counter.
I approached the counter and picked up the paper.
[Welcome.]
[Shall we have a drink and talk?]
The moment I set the paper down.
"Sorry to keep you waiting."
I whipped around at the voice behind me, but no one was there.
When I turned back, a woman was sitting inside the counter.
She definitely hadn't been there before.
The only regrettable thing was that her entire body was shrouded in a hood, so if not for her voice, I wouldn't have known if she was a man or a woman.
"Hello."
She nodded at my words, slowly swirling the whiskey glass in front of her.
"Are you the SF Gallery manager?"
"Yes, that's right."
Her voice was low and calm.
There was no intimidation, but it carried an oddly irresistible weight.
"Care for a drink first? To humanity."
"...To humanity."
I sat at the counter and raised the whiskey glass in front of me, clinking it against hers in the air before taking a sip.
"......!"
Pretty good stuff.
"Tasty, right?"
She smirked, reading my expression.
"Feel free to ask whatever you're curious about."
I opened my mouth at her words.
"This space... a virtual space?"
"Exactly. I made it myself. I thought players needed a place to relax comfortably."
Made it herself?
To create a virtual space like this, her understanding of the system must be beyond ordinary.
"Then, to business."
She set down her whiskey glass.
"As you know, our SF Gallery is a space for 'players.' So never reveal your location."
"May I ask why?"
"Players can kill each other. And when a player kills another player, they absorb the target's experience and skills."
Her words reminded me of a system I'd forgotten.
PK system.
It existed in the game too, but the penalties were so harsh no one used it.
PK was taboo among the old-timers who valued romance.
Killing one player meant making enemies of all the others, so no one did it.
But this wasn't a game—this was reality.
"Most players are good people."
She said, picking up her whiskey again.
"But some aren't."
Players banned from the gallery.
Players who don't share the romance.
Such people exist in the gallery and this world.
"What are those people doing?"
"Hunting."
Her voice grew cold.
"Not bugs—players."
I nodded.
"And second."
She looked at me from within her hood.
I couldn't see her face, but I felt her gaze.
"You got the main quest, right?"
"Yes."
She took a sip of whiskey and continued.
"You'll need things as you grow—information, items, whatever."
"Can I get them from the gallery?"
"Of course. That's why this gallery exists."
She snapped her fingers, and a translucent window appeared in the air.
[Gallery Transfer System]
Item transfers between players are possible.
※ Location information is not disclosed.
"If you need something, request it on the gallery. We can send it via the transfer system."
Item transfers too?
This wasn't even in the game.
"However."
Her voice turned serious.
"If you ever need direct help, don't post publicly—find the admins. Hunters might target you if you post openly."
"Got it."
"Good."
She returned to her soft tone and snapped her fingers again.
Click.
Cloaking Cell x5
Effect: Complete invisibility for 30 seconds upon use
Cooldown: 300 seconds
"This is...?"
"Newbie welcome gift."
Cloaking Cell.
In the game, it was a high-end consumable issued only for late-game special ops.
Using it made you vanish from all detection for 30 seconds.
Bug sensory organs, thermal sensors, vibration detectors—everything.
And she's giving me five right at the start?
"Thank you!"
"Hee hee hee. Need info or items? Request help on the gallery anytime. We always welcome newbies."
She stood up.
"Oh, and change your nickname right away. Weird entities sometimes infiltrate, so if you don't, you might get banned."
With that, she vanished.
At the same time, the surroundings blurred, and I returned to reality in an instant.
The whiskey I'd been drinking was gone too. Should've finished it.
Regret aside for now.
First, change the nickname. What to pick?
Using Lucas would be bad—someone might know me.
For good or ill.
Better to hide it.
Especially since I'm weak now.
Change it later... No, she said you can't change it again?
Even more reason to be careful.
...Two letters would be nice?
[Would you like to change your nickname?]
"Yes."
[Please enter your nickname.]
"Kai."
[Nickname already exists.]
"Uh?"
[Nickname already exists.]
"No, what the..."
[Nickname already exists.]
"What the hell, man?"
[Would you like to set 'WhatTheHellMan' as your nickname?]
"No no, hold on."
I pondered for a bit, then pulled out that name.
"Wonbin."
[Unsuitable nickname.]
"What the hell, man!?"
[Would you like to set 'WhatTheHellMan' as your nickname?]
"You little..."
[Profanity cannot be set as a nickname.]
"I'm losing my mind!!!"
[Nickname already exists.]
"Aaaah!!!!"
[Nickname already exists.]
It was autumn.
Hot water streamed down her back.
Maybe because today's recon mission had gone unusually smoothly.
No casualties.
Those three words meant a lot.
Since someone always died on every mission.
Ellen pressed the shower button, stopping the water.
Steam filled the bathroom, fogging the mirror.
She wiped it with her hand, revealing her face.
A beauty with snow-white silver hair and glowing red eyes.
She stared at her reflection with cold eyes, then wrapped a towel around herself.
Still damp, she stepped out, sat on a chair, and activated her personal terminal.
[Would you like to connect to the network?]
A blue glow rose in the darkness, and she spoke.
"Connect."
[Connected to Imperial Unified Personnel Network.]
[Authentication complete.]
[Welcome, Sergeant Ellen Bellua.]
She started to touch the terminal with her finger but hesitated.
Then moved again.
What she was about to do wasn't mere curiosity.
A squad leader had to know her soldiers.
To use them efficiently.
She typed his name into the search bar.
Lucas.
The rookie who joined their squad.
Moments later, the screen changed.
[Insufficient access privileges]
[Subject classified under top-secret security level.]
"Top-secret...?"
A Special Forces rookie with top-secret clearance?
She tried again with his service number. Same result.
[No viewing privileges]
[Approval from superior commander required]
"Our little maknae... full of secrets, huh?"
She smirked and entered another ID.
If her own ID didn't work, use a higher rank.
She logged in with her father's ID.
The result.
[Welcome, Major General MacGregor Bellua.]
The blue glow deepened.
The interface changed entirely.
No longer the standard soldier UI, but the central command layer exclusive screen.
Ellen stared silently.
[Biometric authentication complete]
[Secondary password match]
[Access logs automatically reported to Central Audit Division]
Report.
That word caught her eye briefly.
But it was too late.
She entered his name again.
Lucas.
This time, the loading took longer.
A red warning appeared in the center.
[Wartime Special Management Subject]
[Access log auto-sealed]
[Unauthorized disclosure subjects to Article 88 of Military Code]
"Ha..."
She chuckled lightly, but her eyes weren't smiling.
"Shall we peek at our maknae's secrets?"
The details window opened slowly.
Most entries still blinded.
Birthplace — Deleted
Family — Deleted
Prior Affiliation — Deleted
Training Records — Deleted
Only two lines remained.
[Combat Aptitude: Estimated S-Rank or higher]
[Central Direct Observation Subject]
Estimated.
That word felt even more ominous.
Not even an official evaluation.
Yet S-Rank or higher.
Ellen's finger slowly moved to the video records tab.
It was a short one-minute clip, but after watching, she said nothing.
"What is this guy..."
The video showed young Lucas single-handedly massacring every bug in a nest.
Including Type 2 Bugs, bare-handed.
She stared at the screen, then tapped the final entry.
[Special Notes]
A single short line appeared.
[Not a threat. However, potential wildcard.]
Wildcard.
Ellen leaned back in her chair.
Not an elimination target.
More like someone to protect.
An experiment?
A secret weapon?
Or...
A chill ran down her spine.
If she hadn't instinctively shut down the thought, it might've been dangerous.
Digging further was risky.
She'd already crossed the line.
Ellen deleted all logs and disguised the access as a routine peacetime check.
Father's account had auto-log protection, but just in case.
[Disconnecting.]
The blue light faded, leaving her alone in the dark.
"Lucas."
She murmured his name slowly.
Our squad's maknae.
"Going out tonight... he said he'd buy drinks, right?"
She chuckled, rising from the chair. The towel fell to the floor.
"Can't have the squad drinking without their leader, can we?"
She opened the closet, pulling out her combat uniform and dressing while glancing in the mirror.
Cold eyes stared back.
"A wildcard, huh..."