234.
Using [Maximum] and [Emotional Transference] in quick succession left me feeling drained. It consumed a lot of mana.
Soon, a swirl of intense emotions flooded Seo-ah’s mind, accompanied by a jumble of colors.
The colors represented the emotions themselves: anger, loneliness, anticipation, all mixed together until her vision turned pure white.
Tick, tock, tick.
‘The sound of a clock?’
Tick, tock, tick.
As the sound grew louder, the emotions that washed over her were regret and long-held resignation.
‘Wait, these are the System Administrator’s emotions.’
How old was the System Administrator?
What did he regret so much, and what had he resigned himself to? But the emotions soon vanished as if they were a lie. The abrupt withdrawal of those feelings made Seo-ah realize he was trying to hide something.
[From now on, the truth of Earth, and your truth, will be played.]
‘My truth… as in, my truth?’
Again, she heard the ticking of a clock.
Then, something began to materialize on the white background. Slowly but surely, familiar scenery and people came into view.
‘Mom, Dad…!’
It was Seo-ah’s parents, Park Woo-chan and Lee Je-in. Wearing safety goggles, they were analyzing a fragment in a piece of analysis equipment while looking at a computer screen.
It seemed that [Emotional Transference], maximized by [Maximum], allowed her not only to feel emotions but also to see them directly.
“Look, this is a fragment brought from the gate. We brought it directly because it couldn’t be stored in the inventory.”
Lee Je-in said, pointing at the screen, and Park Woo-chan lowered his voice to ask,
“Did you report it?”
“No, that would be a hassle with all the paperwork.”
Originally, it was illegal to take items from gates that couldn’t be stored in the inventory. Exceptions were made for research hunters and other special cases, but it involved a lot of tedious paperwork.
‘Hmm.’
Seo-ah let out an awkward hum, watching her parents commit an illegal act. This was definitely only visible to her, right?
“This is a fragment from the area where the Gate Break occurred. A piece of Earth.”
He held up a small fragment that looked like an eggshell with tongs and placed it in the analysis equipment from before.
The analysis data of the fragment appeared on the computer monitor. Seo-ah couldn’t understand the jumble of numbers and letters, but she could grasp the general idea from the ensuing conversation.
“…It’s not real. It’s a virtual fragment made of data.”
Park Woo-chan muttered with a sigh.
“Right, it’s structured similarly to a gate.”
“So, you’re saying this place isn’t real?”
“Not exactly. The analysis results show that anything from areas other than the Gate Break is real.”
Park Woo-chan frowned, as if he was about to realize something at Lee Je-in’s words.
“So….”
“This is a world where reality and data are mixed.”
“I’ve never seen a place like this.”
“Yeah, there might be others… but at least none of the gates we’ve been to. We need to collect more samples. From A-grade and S-grade gates too.”
Park Woo-chan voiced his concern.
“Wouldn’t that be dangerous?”
“We’re just collecting samples away from the battlefield. It’s not like I’m going alone. Besides, I’m an S-grade hunter, you know?”
Lee Je-in was S-grade? That was news to her. She knew Park Woo-chan was A-grade, though.
“Then I’ll go with you.”
Park Woo-chan stood up, and Lee Je-in started to say something but then both of them stopped talking at the same time. Seo-ah felt frustrated when they cut off their words.
‘What’s wrong with them?’
She could see Lee Je-in and Park Woo-chan’s expressions wavering intensely. Had something big happened?
“Right? You heard it correctly, right?”
Park Woo-chan replied quietly to Lee Je-in’s anxious question.
“Yeah, I did.”
As Seo-ah listened to their conversation with tension, Lee Je-in murmured quietly.
“…Seo-ah’s awake.”
They hurriedly left the lab with urgent expressions.
Cough.
Seo-ah coughed softly, her face flushing, not expecting her name to come up.
Soon, the scene changed.
The familiar living room where she lived with Park Woo-chan and Lee Je-in appeared.
Lee Je-in’s belly was slightly swollen, and young Seo-ah was fast asleep, using Park Woo-chan’s lap as a pillow.
It was a very nostalgic scene. But Seo-ah didn’t get caught up in sentimentality and tried to focus on their conversation.
Lee Je-in picked up one of the documents scattered on the floor and fluttered it.
“There are various Earth samples. The time periods are all different.”
“Some are like S-grade gates, some are like A-grade gates, and some are even like E-grade gates. A world where everything is mixed up like this… what is this place?”
“What’s clear is that data is data. This is making our hypothesis more and more credible.”
Lee Je-in paused and took a breath.
“Gates are made of data extracted from destroyed worlds.”
Seo-ah was shocked by those words.
‘Mom and Dad already knew.’
Seo-ah had only vaguely understood it after going through several gates and comparing it to Yoo Ji-an’s case, but Lee Je-in and Park Woo-chan had already formed a hypothesis and were in the process of verifying it.
“The higher the grade of the gate, the stronger and older it is. But the Earth’s data has various time periods mixed in. So, according to my guess….”
Lee Je-in trailed off. She seemed unsure of herself, as what she was about to say was nothing more than a guess, not even a hypothesis.
“I suspect that this Earth’s time has been repeated several times.”
‘Wow, amazing.’
How could they come to such a conclusion? Research hunters must have exceptional reasoning abilities.
But why did such great parents lose their lives? Thinking about it made her feel sad and regretful.
“I think so too.”
Park Woo-chan gave strength to Lee Je-in’s uncertain words.
“So many worlds disappeared and became data, but this Earth’s time is constantly being turned back by ‘someone’s’ intervention. Who is doing this, and for what purpose?”
“……”
An uneasy aura settled on their faces. But when their gaze turned to Seo-ah’s sleeping face, they were gently smiling.
Lee Je-in stroked her swollen belly and said quietly.
“Whatever it is, as long as these kids aren’t in danger while they’re alive. I’m satisfied with that.”
“I feel the same way. And our talk….”
“Yes, it’s still just a hypothesis. There’s no need to report it yet. When it becomes a little more certain, then.”
Seo-ah tilted her head back. Even though she was just a mental entity, she felt like she was about to cry.
This was an illusion shown by the System Administrator through Seo-ah’s [Emotional Transference]. But the love for her that her parents occasionally revealed was too tender to ignore.
At that moment, she felt a warm temperature covering her hand. It was probably Yoo Ji-an. He was watching over her.
Seo-ah refocused. It wasn’t over yet.
This time, the background was Lotte World amusement park [a famous amusement park in South Korea]. Several years had passed since the previous scene.
‘Ah, that time…!’
She vaguely remembered it. Geon-woo was already born and was a kindergartener. Standing in line among the crowded people, Lee Je-in spoke to Park Woo-chan.
“Did you see the last raid video?”
“The one sent from America? I saw it. It was an unreleased A-grade gate video… why?”
Park Woo-chan asked, hugging and soothing the whining Park Geon-woo, and Lee Je-in handed him a phone containing an audio file.
“I translated the monster’s last words. It’s a bit shocking.”
At this time, there were no simultaneous interpreters yet. So, they took recordings or recorded screens and translated them one by one. Their efforts led to the creation of interpreters later on.
Park Woo-chan plugged the earphones into his phone and listened to the file. Then, he haltingly repeated the voice that the computer had crudely translated.
“We were… deceived. The end… is only destruction? Only… to be used.”
“Doesn’t this guy seem to know he’s data? If you look at the video, he seemed reluctant to fight.”
“The monster from the previous S-grade gate also mentioned the end. That time, it was a monster almost identical to a human. Does the end mean finishing all the gates and passing ‘that guy’s’ test?”
“These monsters must have thought there was an end someday and protected their world. But the result is… Ah, Seo-ah! You have to hold my hand.