Chapter 35: The Mirage of the Deep

The pavilion froze in place, shuddered violently, and began to collapse. Roof tiles that had formed the ceiling plummeted one by one. The railings that once overlooked the banquet hall crumbled into dust. The sturdy pillars buckled with a deafening crack, snapping like dry twigs. As the supports gave way, all three floors of the structure caved in simultaneously.

In the wake of the destruction, nothing but ruins remained. Slowly, the wreckage began to “spit out” the Slug once more. The pale, amorphous shape emerged just as it had disappeared, only to condense into a massive pearl. Its surface shimmered with a brilliant, iridescent luster.

“…We actually did it,” Gyu-tae, now resurrected, muttered in a daze.

Clearing it was one thing, but the absurdity of the situation remained. Did we really need to commit group suicide just to clear it a harder way? I tapped Sephiroth on the shoulder. He turned his head slightly to look at me.

“Hey, did we really have to die just to try a different method? If we had just finished it earlier, we could have been out of here thirty minutes ago—”

At that moment, a system alert flashed.

[You have cleared the dungeon on Hidden Difficulty.]

[Moving to the Hidden Dungeon.]

“Thirty minutes ago?” Sephiroth asked, staring at me.

I forced a bright smile and replied, “Thirty minutes ago, we wouldn’t have made it to the hidden dungeon. You really are a genius.”

“See? I told you to trust me, Bluey.”

“Who the hell is your ‘Bluey’?”

What an arrogant jerk. I heard AngelA snickering in the background, and my face flushed with heat.

The Silent Chamber

The hidden dungeon was eerily quiet. Unlike the flamboyant Dragon Palace pavilion, this was a classic stone corridor lined with torches. No mobs jumped out, there was no mid-boss, and there weren’t even separate rooms to speak of.

“Strange map. There’s nothing here,” Seong-jin muttered from behind.

He was right. It felt like we were walking endlessly through an empty void. If the scenery had changed even slightly, it wouldn’t have been so bad, but the repetitive stone walls made it feel like we were walking in place.

Just as the monotony was becoming unbearable, a massive door appeared at the end of the path.

“Is this the end?”

“Looks like it,” I nodded.

Gyu-tae, who would usually be cracking jokes, was maintaining a vow of silence after realizing the weasel-avatar AngelA would pounce on him every time he opened his mouth. Sephiroth stepped forward and pushed the doors open.

Creeeeeak. The heavy hinges groaned.

“…What?”

“Is that it?”

Inside was a vast chamber, roughly the size of the banquet hall we had just left. Torches flickered along the stone walls, illuminating the space. In the dead center of the room sat a giant, iridescent pearl—the same one we had seen earlier.

“Isn’t that the same pearl the Slug spat out?” Sephiroth voiced the exact question on my mind.

It looked identical. Reaching up to my waist in height, this pearl was the same object I had tried to pocket, dismantle, or interact with earlier to no avail. Seeing it reappear in the hidden dungeon confirmed it was no ordinary item.

“I’ll go check it out,” I said, stepping forward. The other four followed close behind.

The moment I laid my hand on the cool surface of the pearl, a prompt appeared:

[Personal Event: This event measures the user’s brainwaves with precision to manifest the scene you desire to see most.]

[Event scenes can be skipped.]

[Refusing the precision scan will prevent participation, but will not affect the clearing of the Hidden Dungeon.]

[Do you consent to the precision brainwave scan?]

I recalled hearing that these scans could peer into a user’s thoughts. While not 100% accurate, they were supposed to be capable of rendering vivid imagery.

Nothing bad will happen, right?

With a mix of excitement and anxiety, I pressed the [Consent] button. Immediately, the rainbow light of the giant pearl began to undulate wildly. My vision was drawn into the swirling colors until—pop—everything went black.

The Scent of Spring

“…What is this?”

When light returned, my field of vision was filled with cherry blossoms. It was the hilly path leading to the Social Sciences building on my campus. It was a path so famous for its blossoms blooming exactly during midterms that the students joked the “language of cherry blossoms” was actually “Final Exams.”

Wait, did the AI analyze that my deepest desire was to enjoy the blossoms without worrying about exams? I mean, I like them, but not that much.

Because it was an image generated on the fly via brainwave analysis, the graphics were slightly coarser than the usual Zelpia standards. The image flickered occasionally, and there were some jagged textures.

Still, standing on that hill where I usually trudged with heavy books, now feeling the peaceful flutter of petals, felt nice. Every breeze sent pale pink petals dancing through the air to brush against my cheeks. As I focused on the memory of my school, the image sharpened—the blurry hill became detailed enough for me to recognize individual paving blocks.

Then, while I was lost in the scenery…

“Eonha!”

“Huh?”

A familiar voice. Was it Sephiroth? No—wait, how would Sephiroth know my real name?

I turned my head in confusion, and my jaw dropped.

Na Eun-hyeok.

He was standing there, wearing a pale pink spring sweater over a crisp white shirt. His light-blue jeans perfectly complemented the sweater and his long, lean frame. The way the cherry blossoms drifted around him looked like a scene straight out of a romance film.

My brain stalled like a broken machine. Every thought in my head began to grind and clank. The gears of my mind were spinning aimlessly, unable to find their teeth.

This isn’t real. Get it together, Chae Eonha. I slapped my cheeks to snap out of it. The sensation was perfectly implemented; a stinging warmth remained on my skin.

Maybe this is a chance, I thought. A chance for the Eonha who can’t even say ‘hello’ to the real Na Eun-hyeok to practice a conversation.

I steeled my resolve to try calling his name warmly.

“E-Eu… Na Eun-hyeok.”

…Failure.

Despite my awkward tone, the phantom of Na Eun-hyeok beamed at me. When a man who looks like spring smiles like that, it feels like the scent of flowers fills the air. He began walking toward me with long strides. Instinctively, I took a step back.

Why—why is he coming closer?

Did I ever dream of playing tag with Na Eun-hyeok? Before I could process the ridiculous thought, he had already caught up to me. His elegant eyes curved into crescents. The laughter dancing in his gaze was as bright as the blossoms.

“Eonha, are you being shy again?”

Excuse me?

I doubted my ears. I wanted to ask what he meant, but my voice wouldn’t come out. As my pupils shook and searched the ground for an escape, his hand touched my cheek.

Na Eun-hyeok’s hand… touched my cheek…?

“Our Eonha, you’ve turned into a shy little thing again. How cute.”

@#%[&@#$][%]!$![@&%@!!

Emotions that couldn’t be put into words became a storm of punctuation marks in my head. My heart was in more of a shambles than the banquet hall we just cleared. To make matters worse, the haptic feedback was unnecessarily good—I could feel the vivid warmth and size of his large hand.

I mean, yes, okay, I wanted this. I did. But still! This is—

“Let… let go, Na Eun-hyeok…”

I couldn’t maintain my sanity. I took another step back, but my foot slipped. Huh? In an instant, my world flipped. Am I falling? Seriously? In a game event? Well, it’s a game, so it won’t hurt, right?

But I didn’t hit the ground.

“You have to be careful.”

Instead, something much worse happened.

Na Eun-hyeok pulled me tightly against his waist. Though I wasn’t short, his much taller silhouette completely enveloped me. My face was beyond red; it was on the verge of exploding. How—how did this—? A thousand thoughts swirled through my mind. I tried to scramble back to my feet, but his strong arm wouldn’t let me go.

“Where do you think you’re going, Eonha?”

“Eun-hyeok, let go. Just a second…”

“You’re so cute when you’re embarrassed.”

We were talking past each other. The event version of Na Eun-hyeok interpreted my stuttering, broken protests exactly how he wanted. As I struggled to find a place to rest my trembling gaze, he whispered:

“Eonha. Look at me.”

“No.”

“Hurry up. Please?”

Even at my blunt refusal, he didn’t look hurt. He just persistently, gently nudged me. I felt like my brain was melting into mush. What is this? What am I doing? Holding onto the fraying thread of my consciousness, I slowly lifted my trembling eyes to meet his.