Is that calm face just an act, or is she actually that dense?

I studied Choi Yuri’s expression.

Most likely just dense.

If she were deliberately trying to pressure me, she wouldn’t have admitted that her Latessai powers barely worked on me. Silencing five people in the living room with a single word was already enough to prove how dangerous she was. By saying I was safe, she’d essentially handed me reassurance.

Unless… she’s trying to lull me into lowering my guard. In that case, this would be excellent acting.

The thought gave me a headache.

“Why are you staring like that?” she asked.

“Curious.”

“About what?”

“How you survived ten years as a Latessai.”

I deliberately gave her the topic she wanted to talk about, to divert suspicion.

As expected, her face stiffened, then twisted as if she were about to cry.

“At first, I couldn’t even believe it… Of all the awakened, why me? Why Latessai of all things? They’re the enemy. Someday, I’d just end up hunted down by other awakened.”

“You’re not wrong.” I nodded.

“But is it really my fault I ended up with the betrayal route?”

“What do you mean?”

“Huh?”

She blinked blankly, then her eyes went wide.

“Wait—you didn’t clear the betrayal scenario?”

Ah.

Lee Hanye’s story came to mind.

I’d been sent here for being the first to defeat a hidden boss. Lee Hanye, on the other hand, had fully cleared the Gwangcheon scenario for the first time.

“Yeah. After clearing the game, didn’t a message pop up? Something about being the first to clear it?”

“Hmm… maybe? I don’t remember clearly. It’s been ten years.”

That answer left me torn between plausible and suspicious. If it were me, I could never forget a moment that shocking, even after decades.

“Anyway, you mean the betrayal path where you side with Latessai and reincarnate as a new Valro.”

“Oh, you know it?”

Of course I knew. Before I met Lee Hanye, I’d cleared every scenario Latessai offered.

And remembering it now made me irritated all over again.

“Wait. So if you sided with Latessai and possessed one, then what about you? Did you clear Gwangcheon first?”

“No. That’s another transmigrant’s achievement.”

“Who did they end up in?”

“You’ll see for yourself.”

At that, Choi Yuri scowled.

“Why won’t you tell me?”

Because I don’t trust you yet.

“If you start babbling about being Latessai to the wrong person, what do you think will happen?”

“…Fine.” She pouted but accepted surprisingly quickly.

“So what have you been doing for the past ten years?”

“Just wandering.”

“Wandering?”

“Yeah. As a spirit form I can possess others, so I’ve moved around constantly. I even went to places the game never showed—London, New York.”

“What were they like?”

“Not that different. But there was one big thing.” She lifted a finger.

“In other cities, awakened are way stronger. Some places drove all non-awakened out completely. Others had strict class divisions in shops, clothes, even where you could go. Seoul’s the only city where ordinary people can walk around freely.”

I nodded.

That matched the game’s lore. The only reason Seoul functioned this way was because of Cheon Jiwon. It was also why he and President Porter were so close.

“There’s something I’ve been wondering,” I said.

“What?”

“The face I see right now—this Choi Yuri face. Is that really you?”

“Of course.”

“But you said your brainwashing doesn’t work on me.”

“……”

She fell silent.

As I thought.

“Your transformation… is that your Latessai trait? Or a special perk from being dragged here?”

“W-what? What are you suddenly implying?”

Her panicked look told me enough.

Caymon, Nam Yejin, now Choi Yuri.

At first, I thought the shifting appearances were just illusions from mental manipulation.

But she’d said herself: her powers barely worked on me.

That meant this wasn’t brainwashing—it was something else entirely.

And she had already mentioned the reason she could escape her master Valro and survive outside the demon realm: her “trait.”

Latessai’s mental manipulation, and a shapeshifting ability strong enough to fool even Valro. Useful abilities—but wasted on a Horima Latessai.

Horima had clear limits. They couldn’t level up like awakened, their powers stagnated, and above all, a Horima could never defeat a Valro. Which explained why she’d spent ten years in hiding.

“You appeared as Caymon earlier just to test me, didn’t you? To see if I was a transmigrant. Anyone who cleared the game would recognize that face instantly.”

“…Haa.”

She sighed.

“You’re amazing. I barely told you anything, yet you piece it all together like you saw it yourself. What are you, a mind reader? A regressor?”

Barely told me anything?

The sheer audacity made me laugh inside. She’d practically handed me every clue.

Clearly the type who lived in her own little bubble.

“So when did you suspect I was a transmigrant?”

“During HAUT. When I saw first-years from Gwangcheon appear, I knew something was off. It should’ve been someone else, not them. But what really shocked me… was your face.”

No wonder. To someone who played the game, a first-year from Gwangcheon showing up in HAUT would be absurd.

“Three of your teammates are companion NPCs. But Nam Yein isn’t. That’s when I thought—maybe you were one of us. Then I dug a little. Found out you were close with Cheon Jiwon, stopped a terrorist attack. Yeah, that confirmed it. Definitely a transmigrant.”

“Not a bad deduction.”

“R-really? Heh.”

Her lips curved into a pleased grin.

“So, who’s your original Valro? Caymon?”

“No. Nerom.”

“…Yeah, no wonder you ran.”

“Right?” She smiled bitterly.

“Then what’s your plan?” she asked suddenly.

“What plan?”

“Getting back. To our world. You’re not the protagonist either. Not really—you’re just in Nam Yein’s body.”

“…True.”

“You know, without the protagonist, there’s no way to beat Latessai.”

“I know. To fight them properly, the protagonist’s power is essential.”

“Have you tried finding them?”

Her question made my stomach sink.

“…Don’t tell me—you haven’t found them either.”

If even Choi Yuri, who could slip into spirit form and roam anywhere, hadn’t found them…

“Damn. So there really isn’t a protagonist in this world?” she muttered, frowning.

A bitter taste filled my mouth.

“Think about it. If we’re already first-years, that means the game’s starting point is long past. If the protagonist hasn’t shown up yet…”

“There isn’t one,” I finished. “If they existed, rumors would’ve spread. The protagonist’s power is unmistakable.”

The Latessai protagonist.

Their appearance, gender, name, even aptitude rank—everything could be customized by the player.

But there was one constant.

No matter how you created them, every protagonist shared the same core trait.

That unique power the protagonist held—

It was called the Tree of Possibilities.

Unlike awakened, who each possessed only a single ability that could gradually be strengthened, the protagonist could wield multiple abilities.

In simple terms—it was a skill tree.

With every level gained, they would receive two skill points, which could be allocated freely into passive or active skills.

The last build I played before ending up here was a Craftsman build. To maximize my concept, I invested nearly all points into item-related skills.

But in truth, the recommended approach was to spread points across different trees. Mix offense and defense. Aim for elemental synergies.

Even for my Craftsman concept, the more convenient path would have been to put points into the Trickster tree—skills designed for combat through item use.

But had I done that, I would never have been able to create the abnormally powerful items that became my final legacy in Hardcore mode.

“I checked all the academies from March onward,” Choi Yuri said. “But I didn’t find a single new student with multiple abilities. Just in case, I even traveled to other cities.”

“What now? No matter how high we raise our levels, at this rate…”

“I do have one idea.”

Her eyes lit up. “What?”

“Leveling.”

“…Were you even listening to me?”

Yes, I heard.

“If your level gets high enough, even without a protagonist, you can resist the power of Latessai.”

“That makes no sense. There’s no such setting.”

“There is. If you actually read the game text carefully, it’s right there.”

“That’s impossible. Even Cheon Jiwon falls to them.”

“Then we’ll just have to exceed Cheon Jiwon.”

“…And you think that’s possible?”

“Not in Phase 1. But in Phase 2, yes.”

“What level are we talking?”

“Over 150.”

When I answered, Choi Yuri let out a short laugh, then shot me a glare.

“That’s absurd. Latessai max out at 100.”

That told me everything—she’d never played Hardcore.

“You can go higher. I’ve done it myself.”

“What, did you use a trainer program?”

“No. Only systems the game itself allowed.”

Her expression slowly shifted.

“…You’re serious? At level 150, resistance against Latessai becomes possible?”

“Exactly. Of course, if we ever do find the protagonist, that would save us the effort. But until then…”

“…Hmm.” She folded her arms.

“Anyway, that’s enough for now,” I said, glancing at the clock. Midnight had passed long ago—it was already deep into the night.

“I’ve got things to do tomorrow. I need some sleep.”

“Fine.”

“Release the others from your brainwashing, too.”

“…Why? What’s the point? They’re just NPCs. Isn’t it safer to leave them under control? That way they’ll never refuse your orders or stab you in the back.”

“……”

“What? Am I wrong?”

“Release them, for now. We don’t need measures that extreme yet.”

“…Tch. Fine. But I’ll keep myself invisible to them. I don’t like staying in spirit form—it feels too unreal. I want to sleep in a body.”

“Do as you like.”

She left the room.

A moment later—

“You talked way too long!” Jodie’s voice echoed.

“Yaaawn.” That was Meiling.

“Looks like Yein’s already asleep. He didn’t even come out.” Lumina’s gentle voice.

“Then let’s wash up and call it a night.”

“Yeah. Rest well.” That was Seo Yui and Kim Sang-sik.

“……”

I realized my brow had twisted into a scowl and rubbed my forehead.

A strong wave of disgust ran through me.

Because Choi Yuri wasn’t wrong.

Not at all.

If she left them brainwashed, they’d never question me, never resist, never demand explanations. They’d simply obey, the same way companion NPCs in an open-world dungeon could be driven endlessly for level grinding.

But—

No. That would be dangerous.

If they changed, people around them would notice first.

And if that person was someone famous, the risk would be catastrophic.

Imagine Cheon Jiwon suddenly becoming my subordinate. Or Oh Sungcheon turning over a new leaf, confessing his crimes, and marching into prison—or worse, killing himself.

The ripple effect would be massive.

Even Latessai could only control a limited number of people.

Horima-class could manage perhaps five to ten at most. Containing the fallout would be impossible.

But the greatest threat was the Valro.

The Valro-class Latessai observed this world from deep within the demon realm.

They might not notice minor details on the surface, but anything too drastic would draw their eyes.

That was why Choi Yuri herself had avoided trying to enslave Cheon Jiwon or anyone else important—and had lived quietly instead.

No.

I shook my head, denying my own thoughts.

This disgust I felt.

This deep-seated revulsion toward Choi Yuri.

It wasn’t just about logic or cost-benefit.

“…Forget it. Sleep.”

I didn’t want to think anymore.

Just as I’d told her, I had things to do tomorrow.

I collapsed onto the bed. Washing up could wait until morning.

But one question lingered—where exactly was she planning to sleep? Every room here was already taken.

“…She’ll figure it out herself.”

I muttered under my breath, pulled the blanket over me, and tried to empty my mind before it dragged me into more useless thoughts.

The next morning—

“Kyaaaaaa!!!”

A shrill scream jolted me awake in place of my alarm.

“…What a refreshing wake-up call.”

And I had a headache.

(End of Chapter)