The surprises didn't stop there as they saw the butler appear with a serious expression on his face, yet still managing a smile, the kind a butler should wear and display.
"Welcome back, master."
"Do you need me to prepare any food for you?"
The master or husband smiled dismissively as he casually walked into the dining room, looked at the table, and then at them… the players.
Luca looked at the man, and the way he looked at him… it was strange. Is it the kind of gaze that focuses on a superior and almost exceptional prey compared to others? If that's really the case, then Luca needs to be more careful; he's already being watched by almost three members of his family…
Fuck..Thinking about it again and again, this situation doesn't seem good at all!
The butler continued to bow and was about to leave when the husband turned his chair around, his smile growing wider and wider, like that of a child, but at least more subtle.
A child surpassing his father indeed brings good fortune to the family... wait, something's wrong... what kind of good fortune is that!?
Luca wondered to himself while the husband, with his legs crossed, used some kind of power or ability to make the butler stop right there.
"Where is the mistress?"
Mistress? All the group members simultaneously looked towards the husband and the housekeeper. Why call her Mistress? If this was truly the husband everyone agreed on, why would he call his wife Mistress? Why not just call her "wife" or by her name? They don't even seem like they're in the cold phase or angry at each other.
Eirene was the first to notice how the butler was clenching his fists while still maintaining a bright smile on his face.
To Eirene, the butler was just an ordinary, or rather, relatively dangerous NPC, but the fact that an NPC behaved and concealed his emotions in such an imperfect, human-like way truly changed her perspective.
Even though this was her second game, it was no different from the first. After all, her first game when she first started was like a chicken coop... out of five players, only one understood how to play, but she didn't say anything, she just slept, leaving Eirene almost carrying the burden of the game that time. She could only run away and watch each person die one by one without understanding anything. Then, that strong player woke up and, in just two days, solved everything... things Eirene couldn't understand, things she couldn't figure out somehow... and thanks to her... she finally caught the attention of her god.
Eirene looked at Luca, wondering why, while carrying him, she was reminded of that girl with pink hair… A beauty like a princess stepping out of a painting. Anyway, she had to use this game to learn more.
Luca's attention was now almost entirely focused on the man sitting in the chair, who continued to stare at the butler.
Sir, the mistress is currently away and not at home."
"Can't you give a more reasonable explanation? Where could she possibly go?"
The man just chuckled as if he had heard a very funny lie. Meanwhile, the butler just stood there and watched them.
"Please treat the master well."
It was as if, despite his anger, he could do nothing but leave the task to the players who were still sitting and waiting for the conversation to end so they could gather more information.
[Mission 1]
[Take care of the young master until the butler returns]
[Warning: Protect the mistress]
That's what they saw before it disappeared again, it just said that… Anyway, when they were talking, Eirene told Luca that the system was almost a tool for communicating with the gods and repeating tasks or announcements; otherwise, it wouldn't bother him at all, almost like that.
"Do you think protecting that thing is the real purpose? You know you shouldn't trust him, right?"
The man looked at them with a mocking gaze, as if they were toys to be manipulated; his tone and actions revealed his arrogance…
"What are you trying to imply, sir?"
The oppressive feeling overwhelmed them all, but Sol still maintained that smile and asked him a question that made Luca admire him because all Luca could do was tremble nonstop… Although the man hadn't done anything yet, that aura alone made him want to paralyze on the spot, but if he were told to run, he probably could.
"I'm just... curious. Why do you people think 'protecting the young mistress' is the real mission and the whole purpose of this place?"
A simple sentence, yet the entire room seemed to tighten.
"No. I mean… sometimes things are protected, which is actually the most dangerous thing in this room."
The wind died down, and the candle flame was half extinguished. A chill ran down Luca's spine; he had once heard Eirene say something.
"The system only gives warnings… it doesn't intervene".
But doesn't this man know too much? Will this hint that the husband is not an ordinary NPC?
And now, they're standing before their boss's husband, who should be protecting her, not sabotaging the mission. But why is he here? And why is he talking as if the whole mission is a scam, even though they know they shouldn't trust employees? But the system isn't an employee, so does that apply to the system? Who should they trust at this moment?
This is just the first round, and it already makes Luca feel dizzy.
With a loud bang, the door behind them slammed shut without anyone touching it. The lock turned by itself. Luca instinctively turned his head, but Sol didn't move.
"Don't let him distract you."
Luca swallowed hard, trying to turn and face the man. Sol took a step forward, maintaining a constant distance, but slowly retreated a little when he realised that distance might be dangerous for him.
It was a small movement, but enough to prove that he was a person who, although sometimes appearing reckless, was actually quite cautious. The boss raised an eyebrow slightly.
"Courage?…Or stupidity?"
"Sir, of course, both."
The man just chuckled when he heard those words; he stared intently at each person and made some rather interesting remarks.
"I see it all clearly. A child who is controlled by emotions..."
His gaze slid down Luca as if examining a crack in glass.
Luca was furious, but his feet felt rooted to the floor, and besides, the man was right, wasn't he?
"And someone who deceives himself into thinking he can do everything."
His gaze was fixed on Sol, leaving no room to escape or hide, but Sol didn't really care much; he just shrugged as if he already knew.
"Interestingly, you thought I would have to ask, threaten, or give you information, and you were unaware of the system's existence... I don't need to. Just looking at you is enough to strip away every layer of your secrets."
He shifted his gaze to Eirene, and it was no longer contempt, but the weariness of someone who had memorized the ending of a song.
"As for you... Intelligent. But I don't know when to stop."
His single step caused the air in front of her to become unusually heavy; this was probably a natural reaction to encountering a powerful opponent.
"You're only good at running, running away from the consequences. What you call your 'plan'... is just a cover-up for your lack of control."
Eirene didn't respond, her hands bulging with veins. She hated the idea of someone criticizing her plan; it was humiliating for someone like her, someone who used plans to escape everything in her adventurous exploration. He swept past her like a poisonous wind, stopping before Rivenheart.
"There's still a person,"
The man said, his voice softer but also more dangerous. Perhaps he saw himself in Rivenheart?
"Pretending to be calm to hide the truth. A person who loves too much and is too stubborn."
His gaze fell on Sol for a split second.
"If that thing is ever harmed… you'll be the first to crush your own sanity."
Rivenheart didn't move, but his breath hitched a beat. He just stared at the man as if to say, "If you're right, I'll drag you down with me even if it costs me my life."
"As pathetic as I am."
The man concluded simply before turning to Arknight with a completely different attitude, not judgment or contempt, but amusement at his fellow people.
"And here… The most honest of all. The one who doesn't care about anyone else. Only her own interests."
He chuckled softly, the smile of someone who had finally found something interesting. He raised his hand so lightly it was almost as if he were about to crush Arknight's head as a trophy or collectible.
"Cold to the point of being emotionless, you're quite an interesting person, worthy of being presented to 'him'."
"At least… you're not pretending. Just be yourself."
Arknight merely raised her empty, icy eyelids; she showed no interest or emotion at the compliment, nor did she feel sad. The husband was just an NPC, not worth playing with.
Then he finally looked at Mareen, the shortest, smallest, and tremblingst of them all.
"And you."
There was no laughter. Only a chilling clarity.
"Neither special nor remarkable."
Mareen bit his lip, his hands hidden behind his shirt, trembling noticeably. He lowered his voice, slowly cutting through him like a knife.
"You want to be the protagonist. But you refuse to face the truth, that position isn't for someone who only knows how to stand behind others."
No one said anything. Because every word he uttered seemed to be etched into the stone floor…
What's wrong with being shy?!
Luca thought to himself that he was even more timid than Mareen, which sounded incredibly hurtful.
The man silently walked past them as if they weren't worth bothering with, approaching the large portrait hanging on the wall. It depicted his own image, upright posture, arrogant gaze, and a faint smile that never reached his eyes, in short, a handsome man, completely different from his current self. He gazed at his reflection as if looking at something far beyond this room.
"Have you ever stopped and thought about… how cruel this world is?"
No one answered, or rather, no one dared to answer. Even though they were strong, this was probably his territory, and giving a nonsensical answer would surely lead to an early death.
He touched the corner of the picture frame, his fingers lazily brushing away the thin layer of dust as if caressing something precious that ordinary people couldn't possess. But to Luca, it was like looking at a corpse or a skeleton; his gaze was strange…
"The world never kills with knives; it kills with… the harsh truth."
He turned, his eyes meeting each person's, as if trying to pierce their eyes.
"It only needs to show you a truth smaller than a speck of dust…and the rest you will destroy yourselves."
"I don't need to fight you."
The space trembled slightly, like the breath of a giant beast just awakened.
"Because human nature isn't as strong as you think. Humans are just an empty structure… patched up by fear."
The painting behind him cracked slightly.
"Each of you has a crack like that in your mind. I just press lightly…"
His finger slid along the crack.
"…and the entire mask will fall off."
Then he turned completely around, his eyes gleaming with delight as if he had just found a new toy.
"Now then…"
The painting and the hole slowly disappeared, revealing only a small space that sucked them in like a black hole.
"Let's see… whose mind will shatter first… Let's begin."
...…
The space around Eirene didn't explode. It expanded like a book whose pages had been torn apart. Formulas, principles, ethics, logic… swirled around her like a library storm.
Initially, Eirene tried to categorize them. She tried to organize, tried to find a starting point, tried to find a "rule." But every time an idea popped into her head… it multiplied ten. Ten became a hundred. A hundred became an inescapable matrix. He stood behind her, his voice as soft as the breath of winter…
"Intelligence doesn't mean strength."
"Stop... stop... I can handle it... I just need more time..."
"Time? The only thing intelligent people always lack."
The symbols around her changed color, becoming unanswered questions, but she couldn't move to find the answers; her illness had relapsed and was now worse…
"What if you're wrong? What if you're not good enough? What if your intelligence is just an illusion you're deceiving yourself with? What if everything you've ever calculated… has led to that one mistake, and that mistake is you?"
A line of bright red text kept appearing before her eyes…
"You are mistaken."
Eirene screamed, clutching her head, blood gushing from her nose. The thought tore through her nerves like needles. She collapsed, unable to argue, unable to maintain her confidence. Only the truth, which he had plunged into her heart like a knife, remained.
"You never stop, and that's why you keep destroying yourself."
Eirene collapsed, trembling uncontrollably for the first time in her life. Her mind was no longer her own; this power was controlling everything about her, even more terrifying than a child's...
...…
[God D-3] "Isn't that your follower, A-3?"
[God A-3] "She wouldn't be so easily destroyed, otherwise I wouldn't have chosen her."
[God X-3] "Don't be so harsh, beautiful ladies, they deserve trust and support."
[God D-5] "Hey, could I perhaps steal this husband's power? That would be interesting!"
[God C-1] "You're strong enough already, and besides, what god would want the power of an NPC?"
...…
The space transformed into a clinic. Clean, with a faint scent of sedatives.
Sol stood there in a white lab coat. He had the gaze of a seasoned professional tackling a difficult case. Rivenheart appeared in patient attire, and upon seeing Sol, his eyes lit up…
"Sol… where is this?"
Sol placed a file on the metal table. He looked at him as if he were a patient about to be evaluated.
"Rivenheart, sit."
His voice was very soft. Very gentle and… professional. That's what made Rivenheart's heart tighten. Sol was talking as if he were a stranger. Rivenheart instinctively sat down. Sol opened the file and flipped through the pages. The rustling of the paper sounded like an invisible indictment.
"Do you know how long I've been observing you? I've been assigned to assess your behavior."
"…I'm not a patient."
"The facts show otherwise."
A red line underlined a diagnosis in the medical record.
"Attachment disorder."
"Sol, I… I just care about you, I…"
Sol put down his pen. His eyes finally lifted.
"Rivenheart, I'm a clinical psychologist. I don't 'read' emotions from a romantic perspective. I look at them from a pathological perspective, and from what you're going through…"
He pointed to a line in the file in silence, then sighed…
"A deviant sexual orientation develops from dependence and a lack of emotional role models."
"Sol… that's not it. I'm not deviant. I… I just… like you."
Sol withdrew his marker pen with a cold, indifferent gaze, treating it as a general mental symptom, a mixture of pity for the patient and a touch of horror…
"Rivenheart. I know you believe that, but your feelings for men aren't 'love.' It's a substitute for women because you were raised the wrong way."
"You're calling me…"
"In medicine, we don't use that word. We use more precise terminology."
"Same-sex attraction is obsessive, and it needs early intervention."
Rivenheart was on the verge of tears but managed to remain calm. The fact that the person he loved had said those words... he couldn't think straight anymore…
"Sol… why would you…"
"Because I have to be objective. Your story isn't a love story, but a distorted narrative that needs correction."
"I'm not sick! It's not because I like you…!"
Rivenheart desperately repeated, "I like you, Sol…" Sol emphasized each word like a doctor explaining to an uncooperative patient.
"Rivenheart. I don't care if you like me."
He flipped to the psychological assessment page, which read:
Sol read each line like a doctor reading test results.
"See? Everything matches the diagnosis."
Rivenheart recoiled, as if a thousand knives had been plunged into his heart.
"You… do you really think I… am deranged? Because I like you?"
"I think that's a sign of a disorder. Not love."
Rivenheart slumped into the chair, covering his face with his hands. Sol stood up, walked closer, and placed his hand on Rivenheart's shoulder, but it was the way a doctor comforts an agitated patient, not the way a lover touches their beloved.
"Rivenheart, you don't need to feel ashamed."
Rivenheart looked up, his eyes red and swollen like a child needing comfort.
"…you never treated me like a normal person… did you?"
Sol looked at him, with no malice, only a gentle… prejudice.
"No. I see you as a case to be watched."
Rivenheart laughed in despair.
"And what if I said… I love you?"
Sol instinctively recoiled half a step, a reflex of someone with prejudice.
"Then I'll write in the file 'Severe same-sex delusion,' and it will become A-level."
"See?…just one prejudice spoken in a doctor's voice…and the other person's soul crumbles."
Rivenheart bowed his head, his hands clasped together until blood drew. He wasn't afraid of death or ghosts; he was afraid of being turned away by the person he considered his whole world, his whole life, and his only reason for living.
...…
Sol opened his eyes…in a simple, clean bed, a small, compact room filled with soft light. Birds chirped outside the window, a gentle breeze freshening the air. A day so ordinary it was suspicious. Sol sprang up immediately.
"Rivenheart?"
The call echoed in the air. He went to the next room. Empty, no double bed or a man tidying up the bedding. There was no familiar breath that he…had become so accustomed to.
"Riven? No more joking."
The only response was silence.
The outside world was filled with kindness. People greeted each other. The shop was clean and tidy, the atmosphere peaceful and picturesque. No one looked at him with suspicion. Sol wasn't called "weird" or "unapproachable."
When Sol entered the restaurant, the staff smiled.
"Good morning! What would you like to order?"
No one asked if he was tired or noticed that his cold gaze was a way of protecting himself. Sol hated that. He felt… empty.
After some investigation, Sol realized that no one in this world knew who Rivenheart was. No one had ever heard his name; there was no trace of him in history, in memory, or in stories, as if he had never been born.
Sol tried to maintain his composure as he questioned a passerby…
"Did you see a tall, dark-haired person with… gentle eyes? Like in the picture?"
"Oh, I think you've mistaken him for someone else. There's no one like that here."
"No one is like your description."
"It must be a dream, young man."
"Are you talking about fantasy?"
Everyone gave the same answer. This was the first time in that perfect space, Sol's dream space, and Sol felt breathless. He stepped out from the crowd, but only Sol saw him.
"Normal is great, isn't it?"
He said as everyone happily walked past, unaware.
"No one will bother you."
"Where's Rivenheart?"
"Why did you ask him first? Don't you hate trouble? So… I'll give you a world without him so you'll never have to enter the game again. Isn't that great?"
"Don't joke with me."
"This is no joke. This is where you belong, or rather…where you will always fall if he disappears."
Sol knelt, but in the way of someone who doesn't allow themselves to cry, Sol stood in the middle of a bustling street where everyone smiled and lived perfect lives. But he felt like he was at the bottom of the ocean.
"Riven…Where are you…?"
No one answered. Sol looked up at the sky, a faint smile on his lips, as if mocking himself…
"How annoying… How stupid… why did you leave me again?"
"That's what I want to see. Your true fear. A world where no one understands you… and the only one who can see through you doesn't exist."
Sol clenched his hands, his fingers trembling slightly. For the first time in his life, he wanted the world to shatter right now; he'd rather play the game forever than lose Riven.
...…
The room was white, without corners. A world so clean it was absurd. Arknight stood there, without a shadow. He walked over to her and spoke like a gentle teacher, as he put it.
"You live for self-interest."
"Good. That makes me even harder to manipulate."
"Difficult?"
He smiled.
"Then let me ask, what if I took away all reason to exist?"
Mirrors surrounded Arknight, but none reflected her. She looked up, her palms gleaming in the light of her arms, fading away. Her voice rang out, but there was no sound. She was disappearing, being erased because nothing could define her.
"…Impossible…Is this the skill…?"
"Based on what? Lover? Goals? Values? Ego?"
Arknight's hands trembled for the first time in her life.
"I…I don't…I don't…I know who I am!"
"Then look in the mirror."
There was no one in any of the mirrors.
Arknight gasped.
A desperate breath of someone who realizes they have nothing to cling to. An emotionless person facing their most terrifying thing for the first time, themselves and their absence. After all, she wasn't perfect… But he didn't notice that when he disappeared, she wore a strange smile.
"My acting skill is still as perfect as it should be."
...…
The tower was as tall as the spine of the world. A staircase stretched endlessly upwards. At the top sat a throne of radiant gold.
Crestfall gazed at it with eyes burning with ambition as she ascended the first step.
She returned to the starting point. Crestfall chuckled…
"A cheap illusion. I just need to climb again."
She walked, and it reset; she ran, and it reset; she stomped her feet and screamed, and it reset; she walked backward, and it reset.
"Do you know the worst thing about your ambition?"
"I DESERVE…"
"You only deserve to dream, and you've stuffed that illusion into your head to the point that no one can pry it out."
Crestfall tried again, only to fall back down the first step.
Tears streamed down her cheeks, but not tears of sadness, but tears of unacceptable anger.
"Why?! I can do it! I've always been the leader!"
"But not here, Crestfall."
The throne was so far away that it was invisible. Crestfall collapsed, pounding the floor until blood gushed out.
"NO!! I MUST RISE!! I MUST BE ABOVE ALL!! I…I…I…"
"You never think what you have is enough."
He said, and those words crushed Crestfall more than any attack, and then he just let Crestfall try again and again…
...…
The stage lights shone directly on him. A blinding white light made him recoil slightly. The stage widened, and he recoiled even further. The light was stronger than the dark rows of seats, but thousands of eyes were watching him.
He spoke from above, his voice like a loudspeaker booming over a crowd of thousands.
"A shy person wanting to be the center of attention is always the most interesting tragedy."
"No… I don't want to… I can't…"
"But you want to be chosen. You want to stand out and be seen, you want everyone's recognition, don't you? I'm giving you what you desire. Why are you afraid?"
"I don't know what to do… I don't know… I'm not good… I'm not… I'm not worthy…"
The lights intensified to a scorching intensity. He immediately collapsed under the gaze of the audience, thousands of eyes falling upon him, tearing through his layers of defenses.
"I don't want this anymore… don't look at me anymore… please don't…"
"But that's your dream, and dreams always come with a price, and you can't afford that price."
...…
"And you… What devoured you wasn't darkness."
He flicked his finger, and the space around Luca cracked, then… he stopped somehow, and all around him was WHITE. An absolute white, not the void of purity? He didn't know, but it seemed like an enigma, a "shield," a wall of memory. Something that prevented him from penetrating Luca's mind.
"…Oh? Blocked?"
But his smile widened even more; perhaps it was the first time he'd met a newcomer with such an interesting background.
"Interesting. I can't see your core. But I can pull out… fragments."
The white walls began to crack, revealing a small opening large enough for Luca to begin seeing fragments of his memories, or his past, or someone connected to him?
Luca saw a boy, about 6 or 7 years old, with tattered clothes, huddled in a damp corner. His head was bowed low, his shoulders trembling slightly, and his small hands clutched his bruised knees. Luca reached out to touch him… He touched the air, as if that memory wouldn't allow him to enter.
"Was that you? Or was it just something you imagined to survive?"
Luca clenched his fists but couldn't speak. The scene shifted.
A young man, about 16 or 17 years old, stood in the convenience store. His uniform was worn, his hands tidied the shelves, his head slightly bowed. Customers walked past without glancing at him. The manager said something inaudible. All that could be heard was the boy nodding, his lips pressed together in resignation. He didn't resist, as if it were a matter of course, or perhaps he had become accustomed to it and accepted it.
Luca felt a tightness in his chest, even though he couldn't remember ever doing that job. Or maybe he was trying to forget.
A man with a very strange, unlike anyone else's face sat opposite him at the interview table. His hand was loosely clasped, his smile forced. They asked him questions, he answered, then they shook their heads, not out of pity, but not malicious either, just that no one needed him. Luca wanted to step in, wanted to say something, but that fragment of memory wouldn't let him, as if forcing him to be a spectator, only able to sit there and watch… as if it were sealed shut.
The white color swallowed everything. Then a single image flickered like static… A small baby was sleeping in the arms of an adult whose face was invisible. Only a large hand gently patted the baby's back. It was unclear whether it was the father, mother, or someone else. It was unclear if there was love involved. All that was known was that someone was holding the baby… and then the image was instantly erased.
The terrifying thing wasn't the memory, but the 'not knowing' who you were or what you were doing. The purpose of life seemed to be to live a controlled life…
"I cannot reach your core. But neither can you."
Luca stood amidst the white, his heart pounding as if it would burst from his chest. He wanted to know everything, absolutely everything, leaving nothing unsaid. What was ultimately keeping this secret from him, and who was 'he'?
"Do you know what the most terrifying thing about yourself is? It's not loss, nor pain, but the fact that you don't know who you once were, you don't know which of those things are real, you don't know which memories belong to you… and which memories have been inserted."
The white space wall trembled, slowly turning from pure white to a deep black that invaded the space.
The man just watched and then sighed in helplessness…
"It's her again. I should have just killed her already."
Luca, in a panic, stopped and looked at the disappearing man… A scream echoed through the air, causing Luca to turn around as the man vanished.
[You have completed branch mission 1]
[Take care of the mistress until the butler returns - completed]
[The mistress has been successfully protected]
Luca looked at the announcement… The man was gone, but everyone was locked in place, each sitting in a chair with a different type of rose in front of them:
Eirene's was green
Rivenheart's was black
Sol's was silver-gray
Arknight's was deep purple
Crestfall's was wine-red
And finally, Maren's was pale white
As for Luca… he didn't have a single flower.
"Mom, are you okay? Dad was so mean! Luckily, I arrived in time."
Luca's attention shifted to the child with its enormous scissors, giggling as it looked at Luca…
"Mom? Praise me? I didn't expect you to fall for Dad's trick so easily… It's okay! You're mine! Dad can only hurt you if I permit him!"
Luca just stood there, the child looking more presentable now, perhaps not paying too much attention to the fact that she couldn't catch him and had even saved him.
"Mom, let's finish this first, then we can play hide-and-seek again, okay?"
The child stared wide-eyed at Luca while he sighed. Just as he'd suspected, it wasn't going to be that easy. Luca just looked at them and sighed… he should just rescue them; it would be beneficial. Hopefully, there wasn't anything too horrific inside.
"Mom, are you going in? If so, let's go together!"