As soon as you opened your eyes, a sight you’ve never seen captivated your gaze.

 

Towering skyscrapers threatening to pierce the sky, and colorful LEDs obscuring the stars sprinkled across the night sky.

 

Countless people walking around in unfamiliar clothes. Silent four-wheeled carriages passing by.

 

An impression of complexity and chaos.

 

Yet, order was present even amid the chaos.

 

Pristinely polished black roads, of which I could not identify the material, only allowed the four-wheeled carriages.

 

Only the white lines on the black road were exceptions. People passed over them.

 

When the red light from the oddly-shaped street lamps lights up, you stop.

 

When the blue light lights up, you walk. An instinctive indication of motion / don’t move.

 

Provided that all your guesses up till now are correct…

 

You need to move now. Because you’re standing right in the middle of the crossing black road.

 

Also, because a red light is eerily shining.

 

Bang! Bang!

 

Loud noises pour out. Music is a universal language, and to you, these noises sound like warnings, maybe even threats. Looking at the expressions of people in the four-wheeled carriages, it seems as if the warning is correct.

 

So where should you go?

 

You have been dropped into this strange world out of nowhere.

 

————-

 

“Are you a foreigner? No, uh, good heavens… Even foreigners know red light, green light. Right? Why are you standing in the middle of the road… Taesik, what was your TOEIC score again?”

 

“Ugh, I can’t do this speech!”

 

“Then who here can actually speak? You bragged about acing the TOEIC, come on now! I tell you, I just don’t know. You try saying something.”

 

“Ah, geez… really. Hey, are you okay? Um, here is police office. And you are criminal. Because you, you don’t move at vroom-vroom…”

 

“Hey, what the heck is ‘vroom-vroom’ you brat!”

 

“Then you do it, boss!”

 

The chubby one and the scrawny one were bickering heatedly.

 

But upon a closer look, it didn’t seem quite like a fight. There was no malice in their eyes – it was more akin to rough communication between friends.

 

The two were trying to offload an unexpected problem onto each other.

 

And that problem was you.

 

Your keen intelligence surmised that they were some sort of… ‘guard squad.’

 

The scrawny one, who appeared to be of lower rank than the chubby one, extended a piece of paper and a pen to you.

 

“What’s your name? What’s your name?”

 

What’s in a name? It is the foundation of all human connections.

 

The moment for your first monumental communication with this world has arrived.

 

The paper seemed to magnify before you, filling your vision.

 

From Noble mtl dot com

 

And the black square boxes. This seems like the place where you write your name.

 

You took the pen and wrote down your name.

 

‘Yuna Urensto Violetiris.’

 

————-

 

“Master of the Tower, was that your name?”

 

When a familiar voice suddenly rang in her ears, Yuna, the Purple Tower Master, was not surprised.

 

Put in a good light, she had gotten used to the troublemaker of the tower; put in a bad light, she had become jaded.

 

The guy had played countless pranks under the guise of ‘observing humans.’

 

He seemed curious about the lengthy name, so she explained in detail.

 

“Yes. I was an illegitimate child of the Count Urensto and am essentially estranged, but my name hasn’t been removed from the family register. My father dislikes Yuna Urensto, but he wanted to keep the daughter who is the Purple Tower Master.”

 

“And Violetiris?”

 

“That’s the surname I was given by the royal family when I was recognized as a Tower Master. It takes precedence over my family’s surname, so instead of ‘Miss Urensto,’ it’s ‘Miss Violetiris.'”

 

“It’s long.”

 

“Well, there’s the convenient title of ‘Tower Master.'”

 

“It’s been about 8 years since we’ve known each other, and I’ve only just found out your name. I wanted to try using it.”

 

“Do whatever you want.”

 

Yuna responded casually, turning her head away.

 

She was not particularly adept at conversation, and when it came to this type of conversation, she was at a loss for words.

 

What can one do but be embarrassed to offer a response like, “Then I shall call out to you as much as my heart desires.”

 

The eyes of the young mage tower owner reflected the world.

 

It was a mysterious world, created by a strange genius.

 

Yuna couldn’t believe the realistic world she was experiencing was actually a fantasy magic. Sounds, smells, the sensation of the chair pressing up from beneath her, the otherworldly guards chattering in the distance.

 

If she hadn’t seen him build his reputation with fantasy magic up until now, she might have been fooled into thinking that a mad wizard had finally developed dimension-crossing magic. How could this world be a mere illusion?

 

There seemed to be no other way to describe it but as a terrifying talent.

 

Focusing on the language being used, it was clear that this was unwitnessed anywhere on the continent; the conversation amongst the otherworldly guards was unique. Yet the meaning struck her as if hammered into her brain.

 

Could it be the technique of fantasy magic, “Blurring,” making this strange situation feel normal?

 

Perhaps it was an intricate “Cognitive Dampening” spell, preventing her thoughts from reaching suspicion…

 

The crucial moment in a fantasy magic encounter was predetermined. It depended on whether the victim could break free from the magic’s grasp.

 

Even a trivial illusion is effective if it’s difficult to dispel, and that makes it good fantasy magic, but even the most deadly and dazzling illusions are poor if they are easily shattered.

 

This world had already earned its place in the annals of history as a significant work of fantasy magic. Now the question was whether a commentary would be added to that history – how this magic had its shortcomings.

 

Mage tower owner Yuna mobilized her magical power.

 

A wave of haziness came over her. The method to move magic felt distant from memory, and it seemed as if magic had never existed in this world at all. She could not sense her painstakingly constructed mana heart.

 

It must be the work of the fantasy magic. She deduced that a “Hypnosis” was in effect, convincing her, “This world does not have magic, and neither do you know how to use it.”

 

Hypnosis may give the illusion of nonexistence, but it cannot completely eradicate something.

 

The mana heart was imperceptible, but it was there. Though her identity as a magician did not surface to her conscious mind, it was enough to base her judgment solely on the belief that she was one, simply because she believed that all the time spent honing her craft had not been in vain.

 

Soap bubbles emerged from her fingertips.

 

Within the bubbles were fleeting images: dragons soaring, holograms named Heart seducing men, a butler corps mercilessly ravaging a purple mage tower.

 

Like paint swirling together on a palette, the images lazily twirled and mixed. A dark liquid seemed to gradually fill the glistening, transparent soap bubbles.

 

Its full name, “Violet Iris’s Agglomerated Memory Magic Jewel Explosion,” may have been aesthetically pleasing, but insufficient to capture the essence of the magic.

 

When she had shown this technique to the troublemaker of the mage tower, he called it an “Information Bomb.”

 

Crack.

 

A hairline fracture appeared on the surface of the bubble. As the internal pressure rose and reached its critical point, the soap bubble was about to burst.

 

And the haphazardly condensed information would tear apart this wonderful world constructed by illusion magic.

 

If the world held on, Yuna would have to humbly hand over her position as the tower master.

 

“Ererelerelerere.”

 

“Kkeeeya──aaahhh!”

 

The troublemaker of the tower vehemently licked the ears of tower master Yuna.

 

Concentration shattered, the bubble popped as if erased by an eraser, leaving no trace.

 

Yuna, struck by the fatal assault, covered the targeted area with her hands and rolled on the ground.

 

She then shrieked again upon touching the slimy liquid oozing from her fingertips.

 

“What what what are you doing──!!”

 

“Why try to burst something you put so much effort into making. If that burst, it would have been a disaster.”

 

“Tell that with your words!”

 

“Talking is a bit embarrassing.”

 

“You! What you did just now is the embarrassing thing!”

 

“The test for the magic can come later. What I wanted to show you today wasn’t the magic itself, but this world… because it’s my home.”

 

“Home?”

 

“Didn’t I tell you that I came from another world?”

 

“No, you didn’t!!”

 

“Well, it’s not that important… Anyway, I’ll treat you to a full course meal. Earth has evolved in many ways, but its culinary culture is something else.”

 

“………”

 

Twilight Tower Master Yuna’s high-performance brain concluded that it was reasonable to have meaningful expectations about the cuisine from another world, and commanded the salivary glands to start. Yuna swallowed her saliva.

 

“Let’s, let’s go.”

 

“Yes.”

 

————-

 

The place had nearly gone down the drain within ten minutes of opening.

 

If that tiny soap bubble had burst, my illusion magic would have been completely torn asunder.

 

It felt like watching a full-swing baseball bat whirling over my figurine display!

 

The reagents I used and the preparation I did to show them off—how much did all that cost!

 

The Twilight Tower Master was… that is, Twilight Tower Master Yuna Violet or whatever, was occasionally quite aggressive. Passing by an ongoing illusion magic demonstration, she wouldn’t hesitate to poke it and ask, “Will it break if I touch?”

 

This sad tale of destroyed magic befalls victims about three times a week.

 

I was sweating bullets trying to figure out how to prevent it.

 

Using magical techniques to block the spell was an impossible feat. Even though I was a magic prodigy who had received scouting offers from every mage tower, it’s because a genius grew up to become the owner of a mage tower.

 

If the weak intend to defeat the strong, they must strikingly poke the unexpected.

 

The optimal solution offered by my neurons was indeed Erellele.

 

I thought it would work against the mage tower owner whose immunity to men was nearly zero.

 

Now that the danger was averted, it was time to enjoy.

 

Kimchi, pork belly, knife-cut noodle soup, and the like.

 

It was time to present “Korean cuisine” with gratitude to the mage tower owner who had supported my research funds.