Chapter 91 - Player (3)

It has already been five months since I opened my eyes in another world. Count the days spent in the Labyrinth, and it feels much longer.

A lot has happened in that time. I killed a person for the first time, and I killed monsters. I've done plenty of other savage things to survive, too.

But am I still a modern man at heart?

TAP, TAP-TAP-TAP-TAP, TAP, TAP!

The moment I finish entering the password, my little finger naturally presses Enter. Then a realization makes me flinch.

'This is... my body?'

These aren't a barbarian's thick, rough hands. Nor is this a warrior's body, with rock-hard muscles packed onto broad shoulders.

It's Lee Hansoo's body: 175 centimeters tall, average weight, with soft flesh and skin.

Just as I realize that—

"Ah, fuck!"

The floor seems to drop away, and my body is sucked somewhere else. By the time I come to my senses, everything is pitch-black.

Having experienced this often in the Labyrinth, it's not particularly unfamiliar, but...

CLICK.

I hear a switch being pressed, and my surroundings light up.

To my surprise, I'm in my room. My room—Lee Hansoo's room, where I'd been enjoying a game before being dragged into this world.

'... So what's the point of this?'

First, I look around. The bookshelf, the computer, the slightly yellowed bed...

I go out and inspect the combined kitchen and living room, then the bathroom. Everything matches my memories.

'Oh, then could that be here too...?'

I rush to open the refrigerator. For some reason, it's packed with nothing but chilled cans of cola.

I wonder what kind of magic this is, but don't dwell on it. How could I possibly resist?

CLICK, HISSS!

The sound alone feels refreshing. I could put up with everything else, but how I've missed this. I hurry to pour it into my mouth, afraid it might vanish before my eyes.

But...

'Motherfucker.'

I can't taste anything. There's none of that sharp sting that feels like it's splitting my throat in two, either. All I feel is a tasteless, odorless liquid sloshing down my throat.

Just as I'm failing to hide my disappointment—

DING-DONG!

The doorbell rings. I check the intercom and find a blonde white woman outside.

Surely she isn't here to preach religion.

I'm about to ask, "Who are you?" in my usual blunt manner, but catch my mistake and try again.

"May I ask who this is?"

I figure my way of speaking might let her deduce that I'm a barbarian.

'Why does this feel so awkward, though?'

I'm only speaking normally, but it feels like thorns are growing in my throat.

Before long, an answer comes through the intercom.

["My name is SoulQueen, and I'm a guide for Ghost Busters. May I come in?"]

Hmm. I didn't realize this was how it worked.

I quickly open the door before I can get on her bad side. But what's this now?

"Excuse me, why are you walking into the wall?"

"Oh, was that a wall? All I can see is a white space."

Does she mean the space I saw earlier? They did call this a spiritual world. Some mysterious rules must govern this place.

As I give her rough directions and guide her to the living room, she exclaims in admiration.

"That's impressive. Usually, I can at least make out a faint outline."

"An outline?"

"Of this place. You probably..."

"You can just keep calling me 'you.'"

"... If you prefer."

True to the letter's promise of anonymity, she doesn't press my polite refusal.

"Anyway, this space is a manifestation of what you imagine. The place your inner mind brings to mind first. Usually, it's somewhere you feel most comfortable psychologically."

"And?"

"Normally, other people can see it too. Some people do have strong defense mechanisms, but even then, I've always been able to make out some sort of shape..."

She studies me as though I'm a curiosity. I can't tell whether she's curious or wary, but first, I decide to address the contradiction.

"Then how did you ring the bell earlier? You said you couldn't see anything."

"I suppose that's how it manifested for you. I didn't ring any bell. I simply called out to you as soon as I arrived in this white space. Does that make sense?"

Honestly, I sort of understand what she means, but at the same time, I don't understand at all. So I just smile awkwardly and nod.

"Thanks to your kind explanation."

"That's a relief. Even mages struggle to understand this concept, so I never quite know how to explain it."

Anyway, since she introduced herself as a guide, I freely ask something I'd been wondering about.

"Oh, what happens if you get the password wrong?"

I managed to figure it out, but surely some people wouldn't know what to enter.

"That? Nothing happens. It's just a smokescreen. Hardly anyone gets the password right before I arrive, like you did, anyway."

"...?"

"Whether you enter the password or not, I still have to come and verify you."

Incidentally, the verification she describes is simple. Apparently, she can tell just by looking.

I wonder whether she has some special ability, but then I look at myself and understand.

A fitted navy suit. My ex-girlfriend bought it for me to celebrate my getting a job.

'So even our clothes are different...?'

Well, I knew she was a modern person the moment I saw her. It must have been the same for her.

"Wow, you really catch on quickly. This is where the difference between Players and NPCs starts."

"NPCs?"

"It's slang for the locals. Anyway, it's not just the clothes. Once you enter this space, the difference is obvious. Though this is the first time I haven't been able to see anything at all..."

"So normally, you can tell by looking at the room."

"Yes. NPCs wouldn't have rock-star posters on their walls, would they?"

I understand. With this verification method, it would be nearly impossible for locals... for NPCs, that is, to sneak in while concealing their identities.

"Then do I pass?"

"Of course."

I'd been a little worried because she said my defense mechanisms kept her from seeing the room, but she nods without hesitation.

Seeing that, I realize something else. Clothes, speech, expressions, and this mental space—there must be another reliable way of identifying NPCs besides those.

'She must be keeping it from me for security reasons.'

"Well, now... you're officially a member of Ghost Busters."

"By the way, who came up with the name Ghost Busters?"

"Oh, someone. Makes you wonder how anyone could come up with such a lame name, doesn't it? I kept begging them to pick something else..."

Uh, I asked because I thought it was a really clever name...

"Sigh. Everyone who comes here starts by asking why we chose that name."

I nod awkwardly. I can't agree that it's a lame name, but I can pretend to. Reading the room has always been my specialty.

"It certainly is... an unusual name."

"Right? Oh, where was I...?"

She soon returns to the matter at hand.

"Oh, now we can't forcibly separate your soul and kill you like we do with NPCs who sneak in. But we can banish you so you'll never be summoned here again, so please make sure to read the rules when you have time."

After that, she explains the basics of using the Ghost Busters community.

"Do you have a computer? If you do, go over to it. If not, you'll have to imagine one into existence..."

"I have one."

"That saves time. Go ahead and turn it on."

I turn on the computer as instructed. Instead of the familiar operating system screen, a window immediately pops up.

"Oh, one moment. Your code is..."

I enter the code she gives me, and the window switches to a page where I can choose a username.

"Just create a username here, and you're done. You can never change it once you've made it, so choose carefully."

Hmm, what should I use?

As I ponder, she offers some advice.

"You used Stone Iven, right? Most people use the same username they had there. That's where my username, SoulQueen, came from too."

Stone Iven. As you'd expect from a community for a dead game, its main board got fewer than thirty posts a day...

Still, anyone who played this game would probably have used it at least once. I certainly had.

'It's just a username, not my real name. Using my old one should be fine, right?'

I type in my username and press Enter. But...

[This username is unavailable.]

"Oh, someone must be using that username."

What? Someone's using it?

I can't understand it at all, but for now, I change one letter and set my username. She looks at it and merely gives me a knowing smile.

"Hehe. You must be a fan of his."

A fan? What's that supposed to mean?

Just as I'm about to ask, she launches straight into further explanations about how to use the community.

"Well, that covers pretty much everything I need to tell you. I'll be going now, so make yourself comfortable. If you have any problems, send us a private support inquiry!"

Then the woman with the username SoulQueen leaves. Before I know it, I'm alone in the room again.

Having completed the tutorial, I browse the community without much trouble.

[Men in Their 20s and 30s Only]

[American Union]

[Beastfolk, Assemble]

[Wizardry]

[Chitchat]

Several chat rooms are currently active. Apparently, I can pick any one of them, enter, and talk to the people inside.

The system feels both futuristic and fantastical.

'Some rooms have rank restrictions or passwords, too.'

To get used to this place, I choose a room to try out.

[Newcomers' Room]

An unusual room that, rather than imposing a rank restriction, only admits people who joined the community less than a year ago.

I choose it because I figure there will be plenty of people like me.

CLICK-CLICK.

The moment I double-click, a bright light pours out of the monitor.

And just like the day I woke up in a barbarian's body while playing a game, by the time I come to my senses, I'm standing in a clearing.

* * *

CRACKLE, CRACKLE-CRACKLE!

A bonfire blazes in the center of the clearing, like we're gathered for a campfire. Around fifteen people stand nearby.

They're all men.

Then again, how many women would play this perversely hardcore game?

"Oh, someone new!"

Eyes turn toward me as I appear. White, Asian, Black—the races represented are more diverse than I expected...

But after living in another world for months, the first thing I feel is a kinship with people from the same home.

Perhaps they feel the same.

"What country are you from?"

"Oh, Korea."

"I see! Welcome!"

I glance around to get a feel for my surroundings. There isn't a trace of racism in their gazes, just a genuinely welcoming atmosphere for a newcomer.

'Are those usernames above their heads?'

Translucent letters float above everyone's heads.

Then a neatly suited Black man approaches and speaks to me.

"A little bare, isn't it? We haven't saved up enough points to decorate. I'm Darkman, the room host. Would you turn on username visibility and briefly introduce yourself?"

"Username visibility?"

"This must be your first time in this room. Just think that you want to do it. Here in the community, clear awareness and thought carry power."

Clear awareness and thought, huh... Do I just do it like using an active skill?

'Show username.'

As I say that inwardly, everyone's eyes shift above my head. Apparently, they can see my username now.

But...

"Hello. I'm Elfnunna."

The instant I introduce myself, figuring this is an anonymous space anyway—

"..."

A chilly silence settles over the clearing.

Then, a moment later—

"Elfnuna?!"