* * *
Beep. Beep. Beep.
The steady noise made him sick.
It felt like he’d returned to that eternal second—
A nightmare that struck like a whip across his whole body.
“Oppa?”
But unbelievably, the fear that had numbed even his fingertips began to melt away.
Just from that one word. That one voice.
“Maybe… he’s having a nightmare.”
It was a voice filled with worry.
His face must’ve looked awful.
He wanted to tell her he was okay, but he couldn’t move his lips.
He tried to lift his body, but there wasn’t a single part of him he could move.
It felt like he was trapped inside a plaster model of a human body.
He couldn’t move, but he could smell the sharp scent of antiseptic, hear the beeping machines.
It didn’t take long to realize: he was in a hospital room.
And he… was Cha Eunseong.
Twenty-six years old.
Smashed to pieces after getting hit by a Lamborghini while doing late-night deliveries on his motorcycle.
Eunseong wanted to open his eyes.
He wanted to see Eunhye. Lock eyes with her.
But it was like there was a film over his vision—everything was blurry.
Eunhye didn’t seem to notice he was awake.
“…Oppa. The insurance company came today.”
Still, she spoke gently.
As if he could hear her.
As if the conversation was mutual.
Eunseong focused, drinking in her voice. It had been so long.
“They said you were enrolled in this really, really expensive insurance plan.”
Even in the middle of the relief, he was confused.
He’d never had the money for something like that.
How had that happened?
“They said it’ll cover all the hospital bills. So don’t worry….”
Her calm voice trembled with a faint trace of tears.
“So please, Oppa… don’t worry about me. Just rest. Rest and wake up.”
He couldn’t feel his body, but he could feel her fingers brushing softly through his hair.
“So you have to wake up, okay? Promise me…”
I couldn’t feel anything in my hand, but there was the faintest trace of warmth brushing against my pinky.
If only I could part my lips, if only my tongue would move, I could answer.
Even a slight nod of my head would’ve been enough.
In place of words, Eunseong answered silently in his heart.
“Yeah, I promise. I’ll hang in there.”
He had been enduring all this time, but… just a little more. He’d try a bit harder.
“…Ranshel, are you still asleep?”
Hans cautiously opened Ranshel’s bedroom door.
It hadn’t been long since they’d started living together at the villa, but Ranshel was always up and about before dawn.
Now, with the sun already high in the sky, he still hadn’t come out of his room.
He should be getting ready to head to the temple for work soon, but there was no sign of him. Hans grew increasingly anxious.
‘Could he be sick?’
When his mother had fallen ill, she had stayed in bed like this too.
When he finally checked, her breath had turned white and misty, her limbs cold as ice—he remembered the fear vividly.
Hans hesitated at the bright window, but finally stepped forward.
He knew better than to enter someone else’s room without permission, but he crossed the line anyway.
He just needed to check his condition—nothing more.
But even as he reached the side of the bed, the blanket covering Ranshel didn’t stir in the slightest.
Either he was in a very deep sleep, or—
“…Ugh…”
Hans jumped and instinctively moved closer to the bed.
Now that he was nearer, he could just barely make out a faint groaning sound coming from beneath the covers.
There was no more room for hesitation.
He pulled the blanket back.
“Ranshel…!”
Hans quickly dropped to his knees.
Ranshel lay curled in on himself, clutching his left leg with both hands, his clothes soaked with cold sweat.
“What’s wrong? Is it your leg? Are you hurt?”
Hans paced nervously by Ranshel’s side, unable to stay still.
Ranshel, the voice echoing in his foggy ears as if underwater, barely managed to open his eyes.
“…I think I just slept wrong.”
“Was it a cramp? Hang on—I’ll go get the old man!”
Hans rushed out of the room in search of Petro.
Ranshel tried to loosen the death grip he had on his leg.
It was fine. Nothing had happened to him.
The encounter at the temple—where he met Baha through Con—had been erased by the game’s system.
Just like that time in Pomel Castle, Ranshel had awakened in the early dawn on the day the incident had occurred.
No trace of cuts on his hair, arms, legs, or back. Nothing.
And yet, the left leg that had been severed by Baha’s blade was screaming with a chilling phantom pain.
Maybe it was because the soul retains memories, even when the game resets.
Ranshel felt an intense hallucination, as though his perfectly healthy leg had been cut clean off.
The pain was so vivid, he couldn’t even lift himself out from under the blanket.
He kept whispering to himself: ‘It’s fine. There’s nothing wrong.’
But this time, the words didn’t work.
He couldn’t convince himself.
When Petro entered the room with Hans and examined his leg, he tilted his head in confusion.
Likely because there were no visible symptoms.
“How does it hurt? Can you explain it?”
“It’s just… a little numb, that’s all.”
He couldn’t bring himself to say that it felt like his leg had been sliced through to the bone and scorched by fire.
“You must have overexerted yourself lately. Best to take the day off.”
“…Yes.”
Ranshel couldn’t make the same choice he had when Petro died.
When Cha Eunseong’s body lay in the hospital, and Ranshel returned to this world once more, he had a familiar experience:
[Attempting to reconnect to the game.]
[An error has occurred!]
[Loading memory data from sub-character ‘Baha’… 3%]
[Physical and memory synchronization unstable.]
[Reconnecting to original body.]
Only 3 percent of Baha’s memories.
Last time, he had accessed Petro’s memories and found a way to remove him from the contribution list.
But after seeing Baha’s memories… he no longer had the heart to do the same.
Baha didn’t have a human heart.
He only ever chased pleasure.
And if something intrigued him, he’d want to cut it up with his own hands and kill it.
This time, Ranshel had clearly made the wrong choice.
No matter what he did, Baha would never side with Zavad.
It was only a matter of time before he became an antagonist again.
In the game, Baha was a character you always encountered at least once, no matter which route you took.
He tried to confess his sins to Frey and sought forgiveness.
Frey refused, saying it wasn’t up to him.
But Baha continued to obsess over him, following him relentlessly until he received absolution.
Frey was the only one Baha liked enough not to kill.
To Baha, the Saint was sacred—someone he could never raise a blade against.
He believed harming her would mean he could never be forgiven by the gods.
So from Frey’s perspective, Baha was annoying, but not especially dangerous.
But now, Frey had a lover.
The engagement ceremony would be held soon at the temple, and Baha would find out eventually.
Ranshel had always wanted to protect Zavad.
But this time, he wasn’t sure he could.
Baha would definitely become Zavad’s enemy.
Ranshel knew he had to do everything he could to remove him from the equation.
And still, he was afraid.
He hadn’t lost because he was unarmed.
The gap in skill was simply too vast.
Even with a weapon, he couldn’t see a way to win.
The crushing sense of defeat twisted around his left leg like a vice.
* * *
