“My disciple, I am afraid.”

“What is it that you fear, Master? He saved us.”

“Think about it. If there is one who saves the world for love, surely there is also one who would burn it for hatred?”

Excerpt from the British Museum Collection - Stone for a Young Dragon

 

Baonik’s eyes snapped open with a jolt.

The first thing to greet him was darkness, thick with a nauseating stench.

…Where am I? Why am I here?

Clutching his throbbing head, he struggled to recall what had happened.

Before he’d blacked out… he’d been tailing Cheon Yeomyeong and Seti, hoping to capture the moment Yeomyeong obtained a Hidden Piece.

Then, when his spying was discovered, he’d made an excuse, but…

“So, you’re finally awake.”

A voice interrupted his thoughts. Baonik sprang up from the ground, startled.

“…Cheon Yeomyeong?”

There he was, right beside him, holding a small flashlight.

Yeomyeong looked much the same as he had before Baonik fainted. Crisp academy uniform, neat hair, an unreadable expression.

He looked like a protagonist from a youth drama, but his aura… was ominous, in a way Baonik couldn’t quite describe.

Baonik swallowed and asked, “Uh, Yeomyeong? Where exactly…?”

“…Think back carefully. You’ve been here before.”

“….”

“Remember? It’s the tunnel next to the shelter.”

The one breached by terrorists, where zombies had flooded through.

Finally, Baonik realized why the surroundings felt familiar.

“Wh-why did you bring me to a place like this? Is this some kind of… prank?”

Yeomyeong didn’t answer. He just watched Baonik’s face for a moment, tilting his head slightly as he spoke.

“Baonik, I’ve been thinking about the excuse you gave me.”

…Excuse?

Oh, that.

Just before passing out, Baonik had told Yeomyeong he’d been taking pictures for money as a cover for his real reason for following them.

“Now that I’ve thought it over, something about it doesn’t add up.”

“….”

“I remember from a documentary that the Larak family is quite wealthy. Their farmlands alone are larger than the Korean peninsula… so why would someone from that family be short on money?”

Baonik lowered his head to hide his discomfort.

“It’s not like you’d lack tuition, nor do you need extra spending money at the academy. So why did you need cash so badly?”

“…Well.”

Baonik’s mind spun as he considered a series of lies and excuses. But none would come out of his mouth.

One lie only leads to another, larger one.

Without knowing exactly how much Yeomyeong had figured out, any further lies would be like digging himself a deeper hole.

In the end, Baonik couldn’t bring himself to speak.

As he scrambled for an answer, Yeomyeong’s gaze grew colder.

“Do you remember what I said?”

“….”

“I told you, if you’re honest, I’ll forgive you.”

Yeomyeong raised his hand and placed it on Baonik’s shoulder. It wasn’t particularly heavy, yet the touch felt loaded with weight.

And Baonik, as a superhuman, could sense it—the mana humming in Yeomyeong’s hand, along with his firm intent.

Baonik’s mouth went dry as Yeomyeong spoke, his tone decisive.

“This is your last chance.”

Baonik, wide-eyed with apprehension, gulped and stammered, “H-harming another student… v-violates the school rules….”

“…I know.”

Yeomyeong’s smile was faint, more of a grimace than an expression of amusement.

“W-why are you doing this to me? I just… I was just trying to take photos….”

He tried repeating his excuse, stalling for time. But the smile quickly vanished from Yeomyeong’s face.

“…That’s not an answer to my question.”

“….”

Damn it.

Baonik instinctively averted his gaze.

For a brief moment, he had glimpsed something in Yeomyeong’s golden eyes.

The same dark intent he’d seen before, back when he’d spied on Hong Seti at the scrapyard.

How much does he actually know? Everything? Or is he just suspicious?

Baonik chose his words carefully. Cautiously, and then even more cautiously.

Stay calm, and you’ll live.

But Yeomyeong didn’t give him any more time to think.

“Wait… ugh…!”

A cold hand gripped his throat.

“G-gah….”

The pressure around his neck was crushing, relentless, like a hydraulic press.

Pain shot up his spine, and his lungs screamed.

No, this can’t be happening. I’m going to die. Please, someone, save me.

His mind began to cloud as the oxygen to his brain was cut off, leaving only one thing—his survival instinct.

“…! …! …!!”

Baonik flailed, striking out at Yeomyeong’s face, twisting his body in desperation.

But the grip on his throat only tightened, and his consciousness grew dimmer.

As he teetered on the edge of life and death, a thought crossed his mind.

What happens if I die here? Do I return to the real world? Or does it just… end?

Is this… the end?

For the first time, he felt genuine terror.

His face contorted in pain and fear.

He didn’t want to die. It didn’t matter if this world was a novel or reality; he wanted to live.

There were still foods he hadn’t tasted, pleasures he hadn’t indulged in, and powers he hadn’t seized.

With desperate resolve, Baonik gathered all his strength into his arms, looking up at Yeomyeong with pleading eyes…

Then raised both hands above his head.

A clear sign of surrender. Instantly, the crushing force on his neck disappeared.

“Haah…!”

As air rushed back into his lungs, Baonik collapsed backward, breathing hard, the foul-smelling air filling his chest.

“Cough, cough… damn….”

He lay there, catching his breath, looking up.

The only thing visible in Yeomyeong’s face was the chilling gleam in his eyes.

Yeomyeong waited patiently for Baonik to recover, saying nothing, doing nothing.

Then, once Baonik’s breathing had steadied—

Thunk.

Yeomyeong tossed something onto Baonik’s chest and shined his flashlight on it.

A tattered notebook.

“Now… how about an honest conversation?”

Baonik recognized the notebook immediately. There was no mistaking it—it was the one he’d used to record the original storyline of this world.

“…Damn.”

So he knew all along. Baonik couldn’t help but feel absurd at his own futile attempts to deceive him.

“What… do you want to know?”

Baonik looked at Yeomyeong with a hollow smile. Though resigned, there was a faint glimmer of hope in his voice.

The fact that Yeomyeong hadn’t killed him, even after reading the notebook, meant he had questions.

“…I’ll tell you anything I know.”

“….”

“So please… spare me. Just… please.”

Baonik braced himself to reveal everything, drained of the will or energy to play any more games.

And then, the moment Yeomyeong spoke his next question, Baonik realized his fate had arrived.

“Are you… a reincarnator, or a possessor?”

 

[This world… it isn’t real.]

The dead scarab remembered those words.

[I think I’m inside the game I used to play, but… maybe not. It could be a comic, a movie, a novel, a game… one of those sprawling franchise worlds, you know?]

Words spoken as a joke by the “Player” who had murdered his beloved family and laughed in his face.

[Actually, I hadn’t really thought about it, but lately I’ve wondered. What if I’m not the only human here?]

Whether the Player’s words were true or false didn’t matter.

The fact that he’d said them at all was reason enough to remember.

Each small memory could be a clue that might help track down the Player.

However, after hearing about “destiny” from Mignium and the Dwarf King… he began to wonder.

What if there was some truth to the Player’s words?

[Maybe… authors of spinoffs, or CF directors. You know, people like that.]

If the Player really was from another world, and if others from beyond existed in this one…

At first, or rather, just a moment ago, this was nothing more than a vague suspicion.

An irritation stemming from his failure to find the Player.

But when he read the notebook Baonik Larak had dropped, everything changed.

Inside the notebook was a story about the past and future.

A tale of a crazed necromancer attacking the entrance ceremony with zombies, and the “protagonist” who thwarted it.

The protagonist’s role in protecting the academy from a terrorist plot alongside the Saintess.

Stories of future events involving Manju and the Elven Princess…

To someone else, it might have seemed like Baonik’s wild fantasy, but Yeomyeong saw it differently.

He could sense that the notebook’s contents were a prophecy, or perhaps the “destiny” that the Dwarf King had spoken of.

At first, he couldn’t explain why he felt that way, but the more he read, the clearer it became.

I’m the one who altered the story in this notebook.

From the necromancer to the terrorist attack.

The difference between the notebook’s story and reality… was him.

The scarab. Or rather, Cheon Yeomyeong.

He had killed the necromancer who attacked the entrance ceremony.

He had shown kindness to the Elven Princess, who’d nearly lost faith in humanity.

He had saved Manju from its inevitable downfall.

He had prevented the terrorist attack that would have claimed countless first-year lives.

How?

The answer was obvious.

One who can alter destiny.

The words the Dwarf King had spoken when he handed him the Golden Seal.

Remembering that phrase sent a shiver down Yeomyeong’s spine.

There is a destiny in this world, and those from beyond, like the Player, are already aware of it….

The prologue, the academy route… all the Player’s wild ravings came together with the notebook’s contents.

What had once been suspicion solidified into certainty, and the thrill of revelation coursed through him.

For a while, Yeomyeong stood silent, unable to deny the undeniable proof before him.

But the shock didn’t last long. He had experienced far too much to be rattled by something like this.

Once he’d processed his thoughts, he returned to his usual self.

Now, the next question is…

How to use this knowledge.

Yeomyeong glanced at the unconscious Baonik Larak.

A being from another world, like the Player…

Judging by his plans for the future, he wasn’t going to be an asset to the world.

While he wasn’t as powerful as the Player, his mindset was no different—selfish and greedy, using others without a trace of remorse.

…Should I kill him?

His first thought was murder.

Killing someone inside the academy would be risky, but not impossible.

To kill, or not to kill.

It was a dilemma he couldn’t even share with Seti, so he thought deeply.

As he continued reading the notebook, an unexpected note caught his eye.

[Cheon Yeomyeong <- Person of Interest! Must find out what he did in his previous life!]

A sign that Baonik viewed him as an otherworldly being, like the Player.

Yeomyeong rubbed his chin as he read the note.

What if… he could take advantage of this misunderstanding?

Recalling the Player’s words, his eyes gleamed.

[People like that wouldn’t be here as game characters… so how did they come? Possession? Reincarnation?]

 

“So… are you a reincarnator, or a possessor?”

The instant the question was asked, Baonik’s gaze wavered.

Shock, certainty, and a sliver of hope.

Complex emotions flickered briefly, but Yeomyeong didn’t miss them.

“I… I’m… uh… I’m a possessor….”

It was a ridiculous confession. Anyone else would have dismissed it as the ravings of a madman.

But Yeomyeong simply nodded, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

And then, with calm assurance, he uttered a lie.

“I… am a reincarnator.”