“Entering the system felt like a kind of sleep paralysis.
It was like briefly waking from a nightmare only to be dragged under by an even deeper sleep, a dirty feeling of finally succumbing to exhaustion while still half awake.
‘The expression “being sucked in” really fits.’
Just as Keun Sejin had described.
It seemed like Keun Sejin was still sending messages, but that was all. They sounded muffled, as if coming from underwater, until even that faded away.
Like drifting into a deep sleep.
Like falling off a cliff.
Like sinking into the distant abyss of the deep sea.
‘......Huh.’
A momentary dizziness washed over me, then I shook it off.
‘I already expected this.’
No point in panicking over what I knew. I shut off my senses again and focused on mapping the system’s structure.
A little later.
‘...!’
As if slowly opening my eyes, I began to realize where I was.
And I was horrified.
‘My god.’
There were countless glowing nodes of all different sizes packed randomly in every direction, connected in a chaotic tangle that flickered unpredictably.
The system’s interior was a messy splice of layered circuits.
‘What the hell is this?’
It felt like something coded by a novice. Calling it a “system” was generous.
At the same time, the connections looked like a spiderweb or neural synapses, as if a grotesque architectural blueprint had been cut and pasted together.
In short, it was a massive... disaster.
He actually implemented this tangled mess as a status window? Keun Sejin must’ve poured his blood into it.
‘Should I examine each node one by one?’
I approached the nearest cluster and focused my mind.
It was like accessing a database.
This is....
[Company Rank Assessment]
I see.
‘So it’s divided into functions like this, then connected.’
Because features were added piecemeal, it turned into this chaotic structure, I guessed.
And from that moment, I began my full exploration.
‘I’ve got plenty of time before morning.’
I planned to be stuck in here for at least a few hours.
Some time later, after what felt like ages, I’d cataloged the names of all sorts of nodes.
Perhaps because I was on the periphery, most were recently created, company-related functions.
‘There are damn near too many of them.’
Despite my frustration, I wasn’t angry—there was satisfaction in probing the guts of this cursed system.
I patiently continued scanning around, and before long I found what I’d been looking for.
[☆Search☆]
Unlike the other nodes, this one had a standout label.
This wasn’t created by the system. It was the trace Keun Sejin had left behind last time.
‘He implemented this when the building-collapse mission failed.’
Connected to many clusters, it looked less like a node and more like a terminal.
‘Good.’
Through this, I could jump straight to the desired function. And if I ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) wanted, I could link it cleverly to build auxiliary features.
No, search really is an amazing feature.
Recalling Keun Sejin’s words, I accessed the “Search” terminal.
‘So this is how it’s built.’
After examining the implementation in detail, I concluded I could build a similar auxiliary function.
Then, as intended, I used the search function.
My goal was to understand how this system’s update mechanism worked.
At that moment, my consciousness was rapidly drawn toward every relevant destination.
I gritted my teeth and began absorbing the torrent of information.
And I realized.
‘...!!’
This damned system’s purpose is....
“Hyung! Are you okay?”
Keun Sejin, now inhabiting Park Mundae’s body, couldn’t bring himself to shout, but inside he was screaming.
‘I should’ve gone in myself!’
TeSTAR Park Mundae—who had originally been Ryu Geon woo—was masterful at logical distortion and persuasion, and in the end Keun Sejin surrendered without realizing it....
The idea that “it’d feel more satisfying if I did it myself” was purely subjective. Keun Sejin, who was still somewhat impressionable, couldn’t logically refute it.
Besides, he’d already failed once.
So, at the moment he gave that halfhearted agreement, he found himself in the other’s body. It was insane.
‘Ugh....’
Unable to fall asleep on his own bed, Keun Sejin had ended up on the living-room sofa, his eyes wide open, waiting for news of Ryu Geon woo....
But he understood one thing.
Controlling the system sounded easy, but it was actually incredibly complex and taxing.
‘I doubt you’ll be out for a while....’
[Keun Sejin.]
Thud.
“Ugh.”
Keun Sejin nearly fell off the sofa and had to clamp a hand over his mouth.
In midair came a crackling, wavering message from TeSTAR Park Mundae.
[Not quite.]
The reply came matter-of-factly.
[I found your search function. I tried restoring the messaging feature similarly. It’s a bit... unstable, though.]
“...??”
So he’s sending messages from inside the system?
Why would he think of that? No—more importantly:
‘Hyung! Get out now! I think I got it wrong!’
[No, it’s going smoothly in here. No need for that.]
Keun Sejin wailed when his calm brother’s reply arrived, but the messages kept coming.
[I have news.]
[ I’ve discovered why the system updates this way.]
“...!!”
Keun Sejin forgot to scream.
“What is it?”
He muttered the question aloud, and the answer came like a blade.
[To make me use the system more often.]
“...??”
What?
[Think back.]
[During the last update that wiped out Cha Yoo jin’s memories. I tried every feature I could to get information from the system.]
It was true.
In that absurd emergency, he’d clung to the system—though it had been disabled—trying desperately to reactivate any function.
Of course, he’d failed.
‘Hyung....’
Just as his heart clenched.
[I think it learned that wiping my member’s memories is the most efficient lure.]
[So it’s doing this shit. It expects I’ll use the system more.]
Gasp.
[It saw me banging on the system, desperate to use it.]
“.......”
The choice of words was chilling.
‘Hyung.’
Then Keun Sejin realized why his brother had restored this inefficient messaging feature.
He’d been so furious that he had to tell someone about it....
[I remember it put every extra feature in the update last time.]
[Like it was saying, “Give it a try.”]
‘Yes....’
Keun Sejin remembered the surveys, new features, and flashy pop-ups that followed the last update—they’d all been shared via screen.
But.
‘It didn’t work, did it....’
His brother had ignored them all.
[Exactly.]
[When what seemed useful didn’t stick, it decided to make me desperate instead.]
“.......”
[That’s what led to this mess.]
‘My god.’
In other words, the system judged that driving the user to desperation was far more efficient than being genuinely useful.
A terrifying conclusion.
‘It wasn’t safe because hyung became dependent—it’s because he became its master.’
A rattlesnake that bites itself by accident dies of its own venom. Having poison doesn’t make you immune to it.
After a moment’s reflection, Keun Sejin cried out.
‘Hyung, now that you know, get out, right? Get out quickly!’
He was ready to beg him to abandon the system for good as soon as he was free.
But.
[Wait a moment.]
“...?”
A remarkably calm message arrived.
Yet its content unsettled Keun Sejin.
[I’ve found something else.]
‘What now?’
What could he have found in that short time?
Keun Sejin felt like crying.
What was his brother doing in the system right now?
Deep within the system.
‘This bastard.’
I was suppressing my anger.
The exploration had shown me that, beta or not, this system was no different from before it was torn apart—an infuriating realization.
‘Still, at least discovering the result is an achievement.’
Getting this far hadn’t been easy. I won’t pretend otherwise.
First, using the auxiliary “search” feature Keun Sejin built consumed enormous mental energy. I thought my brain would explode under the pressure.
‘Damn it.’
I kept wondering how he’d endured this work.
No wonder he’d failed to uncover the update details until now.
I, however, judged it stupid to turn back empty-handed and powered through.
...something like that.
And since Keun Sejin knew the full story now, if I failed and exited, he’d just log back in and do it again.
‘That’d be inefficient.’
A waste of time and pain.
So I pressed on. And though I didn’t much like the conclusion I reached...
‘This fucking bastard.’
I stared at part of the update info floating before me.
[ Usage Frequency: 0]
– Re-update execution
: Apply the most optimal state based on ‘Usage Frequency’ (Interval: 365)
Its goal was to increase usage frequency.
‘So that’s why it’s a mess.’
But the first update that set this mess in motion—Steer Cha Yoo jin’s case—was a bit different.
: Apply ‘Enhance Company-Affiliated Entity Capability’ command
For Steer Cha Yoo jin, it seemed intended to restore the activity experience he’d lost, thereby promoting “enhancement of company-affiliated artists.”
Yet during that update, memories were wiped in the process.
‘Then suddenly usage frequency rose mid-update, so it achieved its goal by backfiring.’
Unbelievable.
My will echoed, scattering the information. I centered myself and calmed my anger.
Yet a twisted satisfaction lingered—knowing the system’s purpose provided clarity.
‘Once you understand, handling it isn’t hard.’
No doubt the “view mission failure” feature I used to slip into Ryu Geon woo’s body wasn’t a pure gift.
In a dire mission failure, it likely calculated high system dependency and wanted me to recall that experience.
Sorry, but that plan’s failed.
‘I’ll make it regret giving me this feature.’
I sneered and brushed away the cursed data.
My mind raced with a plan. It seemed my work here was nearly done.
‘All right, let’s get out... wait.’
At that moment, I noticed one last, most recently added item dangling beneath the scattered info.
It read:
[Ver.2.2 Update (Scheduled)]
– Data implementation in progress
‘So... next up, huh.’
In modern terms, it felt like reserved content with a pending release.
‘Let’s see.’
Determined to learn what was planned, I tried to analyze it once more.
I focused, ready to parse the specifics...
A message chimed in my mind.
“...!!”
I lost focus.
‘Just now....’
In the “Message” auxiliary feature I’d built, something had forced its way in.
‘What is it?’
I attempted to enhance the “Message” feature to visualize it.
‘Damn it.’
For a moment I felt as if the system itself resisted, like an invisible force clenched my teeth.
A name appeared before the message.
“...!”
I understood.
Lee Sejin A. The name tag Bae Sejin wore at Ajou University. In other words... his original name before the change.
And an update scheduled.
‘There’s only one possibility.’
Right now, I’m accessing Steer Bae Sejin’s memories.
