These days, the same routine repeats every day.
When the moon rises, I get up, eat, and ride with Jang Hyundeok as he heads to his night shift to make a loop around Paju.
It’s to source materials or intel needed to craft the golden hairpin.
Oh, and if there’s an event that looks like trouble, I either resolve it in advance—or rig it so it won’t trigger until a month or two later.
When the outside work ends, I move to the [Underground Bomb Shelter] where Gong Isu is waiting—endure his nagging—and make the golden hairpin.
Then, before moonset, I ride back with Jang Hyundeok, slip him a generous allowance as a “service fee,” and fall asleep before the moon goes down.
"A very regular, fulfilling life."
Today, I gave that routine a small variation.
Jang Hyundeok had already left for work, and I climbed not into downtown Paju but up to the attic of the [Hungry Manor].
[sfx: shrrrrrrrk]
Out of the attic’s darkness, an enormous mass of tentacles approached.
A grotesque form like worms, or snakes. I stroked a few strands of those tentacles slowly and said:
"Good boy. Easy. Could you scoot a bit so I can get in deeper?"
For all its looks, Squirmy’s tentacles are soft and warm. Some slick, dewy patches drip slime; other parts are plush and smooth.
"First, show me the clock."
Squirmy moved a few tendrils and pressed gently on a stone coffin placed in the attic.
Grrrrrrrumble—
When exactly one human’s weight settles there, the secret mechanism installed in the attic engages.
It’s T’s Clock—the one that tells the end of this world.
"Let’s see."
I lifted my head and checked the star configuration projected onto the attic window as a display.
Seven stars had found their places already.
The conditions for a star to fill are as follows.
It sounds like garbage, I know—but if you fail, two or three can fill at once, and if you succeed, about one fills.
Sometimes you get lucky and nothing fills.
The probability calculation varies by event type, but it’s generally [=1~4–N].
Even if I do really well and make N=3, there’s still a 25% chance of stepping forward one slot.
Anyway, no matter what I do, those stars will all find their places someday—and then we’ll get one of the various endings.
Depending on circumstances, you might even see an early ending. If GAME OVER counts as an ending, it’s an ending.
"What if I smash one of those stars?"
[sfx: shrrrrrk]
Maybe reading my mood, Squirmy extended a velvety tentacle to tickle my neck.
"Hahaha—no, it’s fine, it’s fine. More importantly, Squirmy—how’s your stomach?"
[sfx: shrrrrrk]
Squirmy has fused with [Scaled Stratagem]’s [Camouflage].
Even if the others can’t, Squirmy could probably exist independently of me.
I’m a little worried about Heo Sanghyun—will he be able to control it?
[sfx: shrrrrrrrk]
"Huh? You can’t digest them? Ah, the dogs? Wow, those things are brutal."
Not long ago, as a medium for the seal array, we had Squirmy swallow a whole heap of [Hounds of Tindalos].
In theory, Squirmy should be able to digest them and convert them into its own power—but it seems that isn’t easy.
I breathed into one of Squirmy’s tendrils and examined its internal structure.
"Mm, you’re right. It’ll take quite a while to digest it all."
A few decades if short, a few hundred years if long? But if it digests all of it, Squirmy will become a spirit-beast on a surreal level.
What’s the point of planning for after the collapse—though depending on how things go, humans might be the only ones to perish and that’s the end, right?
"And Squirmy—there’s one thing I want you to do for now."
I kissed Squirmy’s tentacle again and, along with fresh mana, inscribed a somewhat complex formula.
"That inadequate kid didn’t come today."
"Don’t call him that."
"Why ride in that car at all? You could ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) just fly over by magic."
"I don’t want to waste mana?"
"What are you talking about? Isn’t time a waste?"
"It’s only a difference of minutes. Unlike you, opening a gate wears me out. If I take the car, I can sit and ride in comfort."
I brushed off Gong Isu’s grousing and headed to one side of the shelter.
"That can’t be right. Junior, your spatial perception has been enhanced this time, hasn’t it?"
Gong Isu trailed after me, prying.
"Huh? How do you know that?"
"I can tell from how your eyes and body move."
At his words, I touched the four eyes bored into my mask.
"My eyes?"
"You’ve started forming omnidirectional vision, right? But if you don’t consciously move your body, people will find you extremely uncanny."
Because my perception of space itself has been maximized, I can register what’s to the side before I even turn my head.
From my side, I always had magical sensing, so I figured it was redundant—but apparently, to a spacetime specialist, it looks different.
All of this is the effect of the [Spatial Dominion] trait I picked up.
"Spatial Dominion? Is that what you call it?"
"What, are you reading my mind?"
At Kim Sinhwa’s question, Gong Isu was a little taken aback.
"No, I’m not reading minds. I read something else."
A head made of [Wise Metal] doesn’t have sight or hearing to begin with. Everything is perceived as passing data streams, and Gong Isu calls this narration.
Looks like his observation target switched to me again—he’s started another explanatory narration.
"And I can’t read at will. It comes at random, and sometimes lies are mixed in. An Abyssal entity that controls and manages me is the one telling me."
At that, Kim Sinhwa perked up with interest.
"Ah, I get it."
He raised an index finger and stirred mana to bring up a light-green rectangle.
"Like this, right? These trash message windows that block your view. I mean, what game in the world pops up a window in front of the screen at a critical moment?"
He must be recalling games he’s played. As expected, he and Gong Isu are running different systems.
"A game? I think it’s a little different. I told you last time the administrators aren’t the same, remember? So you and I seem to be on different systems."
"Hmm, is that so? How is it different? Why is it different?"
Muttering like he’d fallen into his own thoughts, Kim Sinhwa.
Gong Isu waggled the watch floating over his neck left and right—miming a shake of the head—and said:
"Help me with this first. This part needs your hands now."
The golden hairpin is almost fully formed.
On the material side, you could say half complete; on the magical side, about seventy percent; and in Gong Isu’s specialty of spacetime mechanics...
"It’s nearly done. Give it three days of work."
Saying that, Kim Sinhwa spread his arms toward the golden hairpin taller than he was.
With a keen vibrating hum, a pageant of light unfolded around him.
Geometric schemata and abstract icons. Dazzling mana lines streaming in all directions.
A splendid array as if reenacting a sea of stars—born in beauty, vanishing in a breath, repeating.
At the center of a mandala so brilliant it hurt to look at, Kim Sinhwa reached out again.
He hadn’t even been told what was needed or lacking—but without a hitch, he filled what was needed and improved what was lacking.
[sfx: shrrrrrk]
He wasn’t leveraging the peculiar knowledge of [Feast’s Offering].
For a Kim Sinhwa who doesn’t know the coordinates of the place he must reach, Gong Isu had completely redesigned the golden hairpin’s structure from scratch.
Truly remarkable magical ability.
He whined about how tiresome spatial travel is, and yet—Gong Isu thought that and watched Kim Sinhwa for a moment.
If he can keep growing without being eaten by the Abyss, Kim Sinhwa will someday sit on the same plane as an Abyssal entity.
"Okay. This is enough."
"Mm? No, senior. If we improve this part a little, we can finish fast. Or add one more core. I mean—like—"
For Gong Isu, who lacked magical knowledge, Kim Sinhwa reached out and constructed a magical illusion.
Vmm—
A volumetric image rose in the air.
It seemed meant to make the golden hairpin’s surreal, abstract structure visually graspable.
The proposal was clear and certain, and in several parts it leapt far past Gong Isu’s own thinking.
More than that—this image itself, which Kim Sinhwa had just implemented, was a fantastic idea. The hairpin’s structure lies between the tangible and intangible and can’t be explained physically—and yet he had reproduced it visually with precision.
Neither Gong Isu nor Kim Sinhwa cares about such things, but refining this image alone could accelerate modern magology by years.
"Wait. Wait. Junior. You’re going too fast."
"Huh? Ah, sorry. Where should I start over?"
"More than that—the bastard feeding me narration is getting way too excited and I’m getting a little dizzy."
"Aha. I know that one too."
Once again, Kim Sinhwa agreed with him.
"If that bastard existed in any hittable form—I swear I’d—ugh—"
Watching him swing his fist at empty air while repeating "I swear," Gong Isu gave a faint smile. Bubble head. Is he really going to do it?
I will.
Gong Isu made that resolve and told Kim Sinhwa:
"And that’s actually a space I left empty to put in the core—just like you said."
With [Spatial Dominion], I looked at the golden hairpin and Gong Isu at once and asked again:
"Oh, you were thinking of putting in a core? Really? Add a core at this point?"
"Yeah."
"Come on, then you should’ve said so earlier. Now I’ve gotta fetch more materials, right? We used up all the mana-stone that could handle this level of power."
Not that we have none—just that I’d have to run home. Maybe a hint of annoyance crept into my voice without me noticing, because Gong Isu flustered more than necessary, waving his hands.
"No—no. You don’t have to go anywhere. I already made the core at the very start."
You made it?
We changed the design several times midstream—did you predict that and make it?
Ah... right. Time traveler, huh? Future tech, best tech.
"This. Take a look."
What Gong Isu took out was a pocket watch.
That is—well...
It’s the very pocket watch he made by taking it off his head when he first arrived in this timeline.
It was an impressive medium—enough to use for the descent and banishment rites of the [Veil-Seeker]—but—
"Eh? You’re using that here? Hey, clockbread man. That’s your head!"
"Clockbread man..."
He chuckled for a second like he found me funny, then said:
"This much, I can spare."
"That head of yours doesn’t look like it’ll grow back."
"Of course it won’t. But we need a substance that can trigger room-temperature superconductivity and also record and reproduce wisdom and will."
"Do we? I mean, in my opinion, with a slight detour—we could avoid wasting that."
[System: Heightened Vigilance trait activates.]
...What?
"It’s fine. You just watch. First, I’ll mount this core and—"
"Stop. Gong Isu."
"You read minds too?"
"No. The system told me."
"Annoying."
I fired an aggressively tuned spell—and in that instant, Gong Isu was about to do something.
Whatever it was, I’d been ready from the start. My mana flipped into an offensive mode in a snap and slammed Gong Isu.
"Eh? You’re using that here? Hey, clockbread man. That’s your head!"
"Clockbread man..."
Chuckling, Gong Isu suddenly jammed the pocket watch into the golden hairpin.
Vmmmmmmmm—
Before I could even protest, his ability followed up.
Well, I’ll be.
With the hands of a seasoned technician—casually, he 《completed》 the golden hairpin?
"Huh? What are you doing all of a sudden? And why does that make it complete?"
It should still take a long while to finish.
Ah, so the key formulas were already packed into that core?
"Ah, so you’re not precognitive type. It’s more like a power that reacts to the target’s intent, huh?"
"What did you say?"
Thanks to [Spatial Dominion], while staying wary of Gong Isu I could also inspect the core he’d added to the hairpin—
"Hold on—this—"
With this structure and that trait...
If it amplifies here and converts that... then the effect it’ll produce—
"Well? Better performance now, right?"
"No—the problem isn’t ‘better performance’! This is—"
Completed in a blink by Gong Isu’s hand, the golden hairpin was no longer merely a tool to cross dimensions.
No! The golden hairpin now held a surreal force that pierced even time.
The moment I realized what he intended to do, I cast to stop him—but—
[Left Hand of the Destroyer]
Bzzzzzzzzzt!!
He blocked me perfectly, as if he’d predicted exactly how I’d attack.
A flawless motion like he’d practiced it dozens of times.
"Junior, you’re one vicious bastard. Stop killing me already."
With that incomprehensible line spoken—the golden hairpin activated.
