The True Identity of the Chat Window
Three hours had passed since I escaped the C-class dungeon, Silent Forest.
I sat slumped on the floor of my cramped, windowless one-room apartment.
My legs were still trembling.
The 40-kilogram gear bag on my back had been tossed in front of the door ages ago.
I hugged my knees, staring blankly at my shaking fingertips.
My palms were slick with cold sweat.
A foul metallic taste lingered in my mouth.
Even with my eyes closed, the scene from moments ago clung to my retinas.
The massive treant collapsing to its knees right in front of me, its huge body folding.
Green sap spraying everywhere.
The stench of rotting wood.
And the C-class party members gazing up at me like I was a god.
Why did it kneel?
I bit the inside of my lip hard.
No matter how much I mulled it over, no answer came.
I'd just gripped my bag strap and frozen solid.
I hadn't twitched a finger, yet the monster prostrated itself on its own.
And people saw that as me saving them.
Right after the boss fell, the party leader—the swordsman—had bowed deeply to me.
His words still echoed in my ears.
"Mr. Minsu. I will never forget this favor for the rest of my life."
That look in his eyes was even worse.
It wasn't the gaze for a strong person.
His eyes, soaked like he was swallowing hard, sent chills slithering down my spine.
I rubbed my forehead.
The cold sweat on my palm had cooled completely.
My heart was still pounding against my ribs.
I couldn't forget the pressure crushing me in the dungeon.
Those gazes so thick they choked me.
It felt like 30,000 people staring down at me all at once—that horrific sensation.
The weight still lingered on my shoulders.
My ears were ringing.
Every breath dried my throat; even swallowing felt like crunching metal shavings.
Each line popping up in the chat scratched at my back like fingernails.
I rubbed my dry face and glanced up at the top right of my vision.
[Current Viewers: 14,210]
Even back home, the number hovered well over ten thousand.
The translucent blue window floating in the air felt even more grotesque today.
The chat was still scrolling like it was on fire.
Insane nonsense.
Solo a B-class dungeon?
One glance at a monster at the entrance and I'd drop dead from a heart attack.
I bit my lip.
Saying anything would be pointless.
Even if I gasped in terror, they'd just call it a cool, composed act.
I staggered to my feet.
Needed some cold water at least.
I barely made it to the sink and twisted the faucet.
Couldn't even find a cup—scooped water with my hands and gulped it down.
The cold liquid slid down my throat, but instead of calming me, my stomach churned worse.
Fumbling in my pocket for my phone, my fingers caught a crinkling paper.
The receipt from last night's night shift at Saebyeok 25.
I went to toss the crumpled receipt on the table but stopped.
Flash.
A jolt stung the corner of my vision.
The blue window warped violently, like an old CRT TV.
The endless chat stream halted for a split second.
Blue noise swept the screen, and a line in stiff font appeared in the corner.
[Relay Channel #0001 — Connected World: 1]
"Huh?"
I froze solid.
Blink.
Before I could even close and open my eyes, the line vanished.
White chats poured down like a waterfall, as if nothing happened.
My heart plummeted.
Normally, I'd chalk it up to fatigue and a hallucination.
No—I'd force myself to believe that.
Staring too long at this window felt like uncovering something terrifying, so I'd avoided thinking about it.
But today was different.
A C-class boss knelt before me.
Too clear to dismiss as a dream.
Something I couldn't comprehend was twisting reality.
Pretending not to see it now wouldn't change anything.
If this kept up, my heart might burst before any monster got me.
This isn't a hallucination.
I lunged at the table like I was diving for it.
Yanked the drawer open roughly.
Where's a pen? My fingers snagged a cheap ballpoint.
I unfolded the Saebyeok 25 receipt from earlier.
Pressed hard into the blank back, scribbling the line I'd seen.
Relay Channel #0001.
Connected World 1.
My hand shook; the writing twisted messily, ink smudging in spots.
Didn't matter.
I slumped to the floor, glaring at those two short lines.
Channel.
Connected.
Those two words were enough.
This wasn't an illusion.
At least, what I saw couldn't be brushed off as some made-up story.
And if there's a connection, there must be a way to disconnect somewhere.
Chills raced up my spine.
For the first time, this bizarre phenomenon offered a glimmer of escape.
It didn't feel like random bad luck anymore.
Something was definitely wrong.
I glanced instinctively at the door.
Felt like someone might knock any second.
Management Bureau agent, guild scout, or something unknown.
The outside was silent, but my pounding heart roared louder in my ears.
At that moment, the chat exploded.
Viewers who'd seen the log argued with those who hadn't.
Yet the vibe stayed light.
They were already hunting for the next theory.
My life was on the line, but they chattered like munching popcorn.
Each new chat line made my heart sink again.
With shaking hands, I grabbed my smartphone.
Opened the portal app and logged into Hunter Gallery.
A refresh, and the real-time best was plastered with my name.
Comments swelled by the second.
My vision narrowed again.
The back of my neck went ice-cold and stiff.
My knuckles whitened.
Breaths grew shallow.
Trembling fingers hit the screen wrong twice.
I glanced at the door, then stared back at my phone.
Utter madness.
I was just an ordinary guy proud of not pissing myself in the boss room.
But they sliced away my fear and slapped their stories on top.
To me, this wasn't a story.
It was real.
My life was at stake.
To end this.
I'd thought ignoring the chat would make it stop.
That not knowing would let me return to normal life.
But even a C-class boss knelt before me today.
No more places to hide.
The Bureau might come for me, guilds might swarm.
Next time, they could drag me into an A-class or even S-class dungeon.
I had to shut it down first.
I traced the crooked writing on the receipt's back with my finger.
This was a clue.
A tag the blue window had left right in front of me.
A trace of whatever was watching me.
"......I have to figure it out."
A raspy whisper leaked from my lips.
No grand reason.
I just wanted to stop my heart freezing solid before monsters.
I wanted to go back to Saebyeok 25.
I had to uncover it to survive.
I folded the receipt in half.
Shoved it deep into the innermost pocket of my worn wallet, amid Mom's hospital bill receipts.
As I closed the wallet, my fingers paused.
The edge of one hospital receipt looked especially frayed.
If this month's bill was late again, Mom would just smile and say it's fine.
That's why I couldn't waste more time.
I had to kill this window and live normally again.
Somehow shut down the broadcast and uncover the blue window's true nature.
The blue window in the air spat out chats, indifferent to my resolve.
I turned my smartphone back on.
Start checking records from the first day the chat was empty.
Something was off then too.
Traces of erased chats left voids.
This time, I'd catch the line right before it vanished.