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[Translator – Seraph]

[Proofreader – Draxx]

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Chapter 481

He quickly grasped the situation. The Amorph stepped out of the hotel and caught a bus heading home.

Now he knew who had orchestrated all of this. He also understood just how hard it would be to escape.

‘…It wasn’t the first time.’

The world he was in was an exquisitely designed illusion. Everything was so identical to reality that it was nearly impossible to recognize it as fake.

Even if he became aware it was an illusion, breaking free was an entirely different problem.

It wasn’t the first time he had realized the truth. And yet, he was still trapped here. That alone proved how fortified this prison was.

‘This is my last chance.’

He had that sinking intuition that if he failed to wake up now, he would be imprisoned here forever.

Almost reaching his house, his phone vibrated in his pocket. It was a call from the ‘counselor’.

“Hello.”

｢Good evening, Mr. Hyun-seo. Merry Christmas. You mentioned going on a date yesterday how did it go?｣

The sound of that voice made his body react on instinct. His anxiety dulled, his thoughts blurred. In panic, he slammed his forehead hard against the bus window.

Blood trickled down his brow. The pain was sharp enough to scream, but his mind cleared.

“Shouldn’t you already know that better than anyone, Counselor?”

｢Huh? What do you mean…?｣

The always cheerful voice now carried hesitation.

Every time he sensed something wrong, every time he recognized the fakeness, his consciousness always returned to the same place: a room filled with the aroma of coffee, decorated with elegant mahogany furniture. There, a kindly faced counselor would wake him.

Knowing nothing, he had confessed everything to him, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And always at the end of the session came the same prescription: a single purple pill. Whenever he swallowed it, the headaches, the visions, and the voices would vanish.

｢Mr. Hyun-seo, this isn’t the real you speaking. Please take the medication I prescribed, right now.｣

“That pill doesn’t eliminate the hallucinations or stop the voices. It just severs me from reality and cuts me off from the truths I need to hear.”

｢Mr. Hyun-seo!｣

“My name isn’t Hyun-seo. And you’re not a counselor.”

The one who always lurked at the root of the illusion, the one who constantly monitored his mental state.

“Isn’t that right, Beom-ho?”

｢……｣

The counselor’s true identity: the creator of this false world, and the jailer of the prison.

Silence hung on the line.

Then came a heavy sigh through the speaker.

｢Hmph. I don’t understand.｣

He muttered as though baffled.

｢Happy campus life, a pretty aspiring-actress girlfriend, even therapy for your rotten trauma. I gave you everything you wanted, so why aren’t you satisfied?｣

“Because what you made is pathetic.”

｢Bullshit. Everyone else loved the worlds I built. You’re the only one who’s ever complained.｣

His voice clicked in irritation, a faint tut of his tongue.

｢Tch. Whatever. Nothing has changed.｣

By then, The Amorph had reached the officetel. He hurried to his room, grabbed what he needed, and headed straight for the rooftop.

｢I am the creator of this world. The building you’re standing in, the clothes on your back, the air in your lungs I made them all. No one leaves here without my permission. Not even you.｣

“Is that so? We’ll see.”

｢Ha. You think I don’t know what you’re up to? You’re planning to kill yourself on that roof, aren’t you?｣

As the master of the illusion, Beom-ho saw through his every move.

｢Go ahead. Dying isn’t new to you.｣

“By your tone, it sounds like it’s happened multiple times.”

｢Exactly. I’ve seen you fail and break down in tears more than once with my own eyes.｣

He sneered, mocking him.

The Amorph had already suspected as much. If escaping could be done easily, he would have achieved it long ago.

But just like the world itself, Beom-ho was not flawless. Suicide alone wouldn’t end the cycle but there was a weakness he intended to exploit.

This method he had in mind was probably his first time trying it. Even to him, it felt insane.

｢Good. This time, the new world I’ll build for you won’t be a paradise, it'll be a hell. You won’t even think of rebelling.｣

“We’ll see about that.”

The rooftop at last. He had heard enough. The Amorph tossed the phone aside and sprinted toward the railing.

Standing on the ledge, he saw people and cars below, mere dots in motion. Even knowing it was fake made no difference his knees trembled.

‘What a joke. Scared of this?’

As an Amorph, he had flown through skies far higher than this. This kind of height should mean nothing.

But now his body and his mind was adapting to this place.

‘I’ve stayed in this world too long…’

To him it felt like half a year, but who could say how much real time had passed? The illusions had been rebuilt over and over; his sense of time was unreliable.

Still, plenty of time had passed. That much was undeniable.

And so, he had to return. Clutching tightly the item he had grabbed from his room, The Amorph leapt from the rooftop.

Wind blasted against his body, the brick pavement below rising sharply in his vision.

A thought crossed his mind.

He had scoffed at Beom-ho, called this world worthless. Yet that wasn’t entirely true.

The human life of ‘Hyun-seo’… it had been fulfilling. Fulfilling enough to feel regret knowing he would never return. Just because the world was fake didn’t mean the emotions he felt were false.

But there was something he valued far more: the life he had lived with his own choices, his own experiences, the bonds he had created for himself.

The ground rose close enough now for him to make out human faces. The world’s collapse was only seconds away.

‘Maybe I’ll think of it sometimes.’

Even the clumsy yet earnest efforts of his parents, even the face of Yu Si-hyeon smiling as she whispered words of love… He would not let himself long for them.

Then came the crash. Instead of his body shattering, the entire world burst apart. Its fragments fell with him into a boundless white void.

At some point, The Amorph found himself standing in a stark white room.

“You’ve arrived.”

He wasn’t alone. Waiting for him was Beom-ho, in the form of the counselor.

“This is the space where new worlds are prepared. You could call it a blank canvas, before the painting begins.”

With a snap of his fingers, the room reshaped itself into the familiar counseling chamber. The aroma of coffee drifted in the air, the mahogany furniture gleamed—exactly as always. The only difference: the bookshelves no longer held medical texts, but grotesque torture devices instead.

“So you’re done pretending to be a doctor?”

“Pretending? I was always a doctor. And I still am. I’m about to treat a raving lunatic who thinks he’s a monster and refuses proper care.”

Glancing at the wall, Beom-ho selected a tool resembling an iron pike.

“Calling torture ‘treatment’ says enough about how skilled you were.”

“I was quite skilled, actually. One jab with this tool and most patients came to their senses. You did, too.”

He whistled cheerfully as he approached, only to stop when he noticed the object in The Amorph’s hand.

“What’s that? A VR device?”

It was the headset used to connect to Space Survival. Beom-ho sneered.

“You think that’ll help you escape?”

“Yes.”

“Pathetic. No wonder, considering the original owner of this body was a gaming addict with a stunted brain.”

Another snap of his fingers and just like sand washed away by the tide, the VR headset dissolved into nothing.

“Oh no, your one and only hope is gone. Anything else up your sleeve?”

“Gone, is it? Are you sure about that?”

“What?”

Beom-ho had always drugged him with pills to block his memories not directly, but to prevent the messages from reaching him. Specifically, from Number 26.

And yet wasn’t that strange? Beom-ho could twist the entire world at will. If he really wanted, he could have erased Number 26’s influence with a snap of his fingers just like he had done to the headset.

But he hadn’t. No he couldn’t. His influence reached only within The Amorph himself. Anything coming in from outside from actual reality was beyond his power to block.

That’s why The Amorph had brought it here: an external ally, one Beom-ho had no control over. Number 26.

‘Every time I entered, it always appeared near the headset…’

He had a good idea why. In his consciousness, the headset was the anchor point linking both worlds.

Even if the device itself vanished, the pathway Number 26 created would remain. Beom-ho didn’t have enough power to erase that.

The only risk was if Number 26 hadn’t stayed close to him in reality. Its powers required proximity. If it wasn’t nearby, the plan would fail.

“Still bluffing? Don’t you ever get tired of it?”

Beom-ho advanced with the cruel tool raised high.

‘No. That won’t happen. It’s always at my side in moments of danger. This time will be no different.’

“This is the last time I’ll indulge your little performance, wretch.”

The moment he thrust forward, The Amorph cried out:

“Number 26! Come to me!”

The pike froze just short of piercing his torso. Not from hesitation—something had grabbed him. Pink tentacles wrapped tightly around Beom-ho’s arm.

“What—what is this?!”

｢What are you?!｣

The familiar pulse of energy radiated as its owner emerged above his head. Beom-ho’s face hardened at the sight.

“H-how did it get here…?”

｢Why are you hurting Big One!｣

In fury, Number 26 yanked back hard. The pike clattered away as Beom-ho’s arm ripped off entirely.

“Gaaaaaahhh!”

He writhed on the ground, shrieking. No blood spilled—the wound was unreal—but the pain was clearly real enough.

｢Big One, are you okay?｣

“Thanks to you.”

He reached up to gently stroke the creature perched on his head. After so long apart, its soft body felt almost unreal—so impossibly gentle that he couldn’t believe he’d ever forgotten the sensation.

‘There’s so much I want to say…’

But the reunion would have to wait.

He stooped, retrieving the fallen pike.

“You know what they say?”

Number 26’s tentacles coiled around Beom-ho’s disintegrating lower body, holding him fast.

“Creators who treat their creations as refuse never end well.”

“You bastard mor—!”

Before Beom-ho could finish, The Amorph smashed the pike down onto his head. At the same time, Number 26 crushed his lower body with its tentacles.

Beom-ho let out a silent scream—and then dissolved entirely.

｢He’s gone.｣

“He escaped.”

Knowing he was outmatched, Beom-ho had relinquished control of the illusion.

Just as The Amorph expected, cracks spread across the chamber the moment Beom-ho vanished. Like all his manufactured realities, this world too was now collapsing.

“Don’t worry. This means I’m waking up.”

｢Really?｣

“Yes. So, wait for me outside.”

｢Will it take long?｣

“No. I’ll see you soon.”

｢You better come quickly!｣

“I will.”

Number 26, too, blurred and dissipated.

Left alone in the crumbling void, The Amorph closed his eyes.

***

After severing its link with The Amorph, Number 26 slumped down on top of his head.

Right now, it had lost nearly all of its power. The battles against the hunters had drained it far too much.

The real blow had come at the very end, when their leader, just before dying, unleashed an attack: an energy-draining bomb that detonated right in front of it, inflicting a devastating wound.

It had consumed much of its remaining strength just to heal that injury—so much that it could no longer maintain combat form.

The problem was that many enemies still remained.

Those men wielding their unsettling rods. And the metallic giants that hurled explosive charges. All still intact.

It had to choose:

To form a barrier and buy time, or to keep fighting until every shred of energy was gone.

Defending someone precious required immense strength—but how long could a shield last on what little power remained? Nor was fighting a better solution. If it burned too much of itself and died here, then no one would remain to protect The Amorph. That outcome was unacceptable.

So it chose a third option. It would use all that it had left to awaken him.

Every attempt so far had failed—but Number 26 believed. This time, he would answer. The one it called Big One had never once turned away from its cries.

And the intuition was right.

The cavernous hideout began to rumble, the collapsed entrance shattering as intruders forced their way inside.

Vibrations spread through the water. The reek of metal thickened in the current. They were following its trail and closing in fast.

And yet, it felt no fear. The Amorph would wake soon.

The first figures appeared—men armed with the dreadful spears that drained strength. They hurled them all at once.

But not a single tip reached Number 26. A massive boulder abruptly surged upward, blocking the path, scattering the weapons aside.

｢Grrrrrr…｣

The boulder growled. In truth, it was no stone—it was the armored headplate of some monstrous beast.

The invaders staggered back, panicked, fumbling for other weapons. Too late. Behind them, another massive head slowly rose from the depths, and both closed in at once on the exposed enemy ranks.

The stench of scorched metal gave way to the copper-sweet scent of blood.

And then, at last, the master of those colossal heads opened his eyes.

[ZZZZ ZZZ ZZ (You’ve waited long enough, haven’t you?)]

Overcome by the pulse she knew too well, Number 26’s body trembled.

It had so much it wanted to say—but instead, it simply reached out a single tentacle. The Amorph lowered his head to meet it without a word.

Sometimes words were needless. Sometimes the simplest gestures carried the deepest meaning.

Through that brief contact, their communion was more profound than ever before.

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[Translator – Seraph]

[Proofreader – Draxx]

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