I must have raised an utterly unfilial child.
No sooner had the relief hit than fury shot up in its place.
The moment I took another step toward Seo Hojin, who was staring up at me stupidly—
“W-wait, wait a second!”
Seo Hojin let out a short scream and jumped as if he’d been electrocuted.
“Why are you coming at me again? You already hit me!”
“What, you thought it’d end with one hit?”
“Ah, no, I— Aagh!”
When I grabbed his collar again, he shrieked in panic, terrified I’d hit him. I studied every inch of his face, eyes squeezed shut, head twisted to the side.
I was still angry, but having my brother alive beside me made me feel my sanity, long scattered these past days, slowly returning.
“......”
When the expected punch didn’t come, Seo Hojin peeked open one eyelid, then quickly slapped my arm away and scrambled back.
“You come here and the first thing you do is hit me!”
“Did it hurt?”
“Of course it did! And—and do you think I’m not angry too?! What were all those confessions earlier?! If I hadn’t called you, were you really planning to post it?!”
“Do you think I’m insane?”
If it had only been me getting ruined, I wouldn’t have cared.
But realistically, it was clear everyone connected would have been dragged down with me.
When I answered calmly, Hojin’s glare grew even sharper.
“—Then why’d you go to the pension?!”
I didn’t want to tell him something unpleasant, so I just smiled.
Anyway, he’d been scared by my actions, and I’d come here.
After a brief silence, Hojin sighed and rubbed his eyes. Through # Nоvеlight # the gap between his hands came a trembling voice.
“...We wrapped things up neatly, didn’t we? You didn’t have to come all the way here. It’s dangerous.”
I stared quietly at the impudent words coming out of him.
Lately, I kept wondering—
“I just... don’t want to see you die again.”
Where the hell had he gotten that from?
I let the words drop toward him.
“You think I wanted to see that?”
Unable to say anything back, Hojin turned his head away. I walked to the corner of the floor and sat down heavily.
Looking around at the faintly floating, translucent screens, I motioned for him to come closer.
“Sit. I didn’t come here to fight.”
After hesitating a bit, Hojin slowly came over and sat down.
“Those things there.”
It looked like the clips of games he had been trying so far.
Most of them seemed to be unheard-of idol tycoons.
“How far can you see?”
“...If it’s the past, all of it.”
“Can I watch?”
He didn’t look thrilled, but when I pressed again, Hojin grumbled and began scrolling through the videos. Then a scene popped up of him choosing dialogue options.
“......”
“L-let’s, uh, watch something else!”
When I glared, he shrank his shoulders and quickly switched to The Dawn’s Second Chance showcase stage.
After that, a jumble of The Dawn’s activities played at random—
Shining Star filming, my birthday in Japan, busking on a street in Europe.
The whole time, Hojin kept glancing at me.
“It was so hot that day I thought I’d die.”
“...Yeah?”
“And Jung Dajun suddenly started making such a fuss, too.”
As I spoke about what I’d felt and thought back then—things he couldn’t have known from watching at a distance—Hojin’s ears seemed to perk up.
After countless scenes flashed by, there came the time we went on a ski trip to Japan—me talking with the system beneath the snow-wet cedars.
【Hey, you... could it be that you’re my—...】
Hojin froze stiff, breath caught, as the reflected light flickered over his face.
【...No, nothing. Forget it.】
I stared quietly at him.
【It’s cold, huh.】
He must have felt my gaze, but he just dropped his head, fiddling with his fingertips.
The video ended and looped back to the start like a rewound tape.
“...Hyung.”
“......”
“It’s about time to go. If we drag this out, it’ll get dangerous.”
He added that while avoiding my eyes, raising one hand. A notification popped up right on cue.
Ding!
[Congratulations, Mr. Seo Hoyun!
You’ve cleared all quests.]
[Would you like to receive your reward?]
Hojin’s strained voice pushed out through his clenched lips.
“Accept it.”
He knew too.
“If you accept it, everything ends.”
That this was really goodbye.
I looked past his trembling hand toward the system.
[Would you like to receive your reward?]
Lowering my eyes, I asked quietly instead of answering right away.
“...Hojin.”
“......”
“Got anything you want to say to me, last?”
After a pause, Hojin forced a crooked smile.
“...You’re being uncharacteristically sentimental, huh?”
Then he slowly ran a hand through his hair and scratched the back of his neck.
“Mm... You had a godawful personality. Living as your brother was hell.”
You little bastard.
“...Now try living easy for once.”
That was all, and he gave a faint laugh.
[Would you like to receive your reward?]
But I couldn’t bring myself to laugh back.
Clenching and unclenching my jaw once, I fixed him in my sight and forced out the word I’d least wanted to say.
“...Accept.”
Bright light enveloped me, and a fanfare exploded.
Ding!
[Congratulations, Mr. Seo Hoyun!]
[‘Unknown Idol Tycoon’ cleared. Points will be awarded.]
Chrrrrrrr—
As the number of points climbed endlessly, Hojin’s face slowly lowered.
“...Hyung, thank you for everything—”
“Open the reset window.”
Ding!
[RESET
A chance to start again from the beginning.]
Ignoring the horrified Hojin behind me, I carefully read the caution note under the newly opened window, recalling what the system had once told me.
[—...In this place modeled after a game format, there exists something that substitutes the process: inevitability. You know what that is, right? As you guessed—points!]
[The harder it is to impose inevitability on reality, the higher the points required for the item.]
Right, points.
I’d worked so damn hard to gather them.
“Designate Seo Hojin’s life as the portion to reset.”
“Whaaat?!!!”
Hojin’s scream tore out like a siren.
[Designating ‘Seo Hojin’s life.’]
[ERROR!]
[‘Seo Hojin’s life’ is the foundation of ‘Unknown Idol Tycoon.’ The player ‘Seo Hoyun’ was revived based on it; resetting it may have unpredictable effects on player ‘Seo Hoyun.’]
As expected.
Points could only fill the inevitability of this situation—if I restored his life, not just the game but I myself wouldn’t stay intact.
[Player Seo Hoyun’s full completion of ‘Unknown Idol Tycoon’ confirmed. All game settings except ‘Seo Hoyun’ will remain intact.]
[Verifying if ‘Seo Hojin’s life’ can be reset.]
[Verifying—]
[Verifying—]
[Verification complete.]
[You may use points to reset the designated portion.]
“Wait, stop!”
[Would you like to reset?]
Seeing the “Yes” and “No” options flicker, Hojin grabbed my arm in panic.
“What kind of insane—! L-listen to me, Hyung! If you reset, not just you—I’ll be in danger too!!”
“Cut the lies.”
“I-I mean it, seriously!!!”
You think I’ll fall for that twice?
When I yanked him off me, a wall-like barrier appeared between us.
“Hey! Hey, you crazy bastard!! Stop right now! Do you know what it took for me to finish this game?!”
“You finished it? I’m the one who ran around busting my ass.”
Correcting his claim with perfect politeness, I turned back to the system window.
[Would you like to reset?]
“Reset.”
“You insane lunatic—!”
[You have chosen to reset.]
[Resetting designated portion ‘Seo Hojin’s life.’]
[Applying.......]
At once, the ground beneath Hojin split and collapsed. Even his furious pounding on the invisible wall faded—his voice no longer reached me.
“—...! ——!!”
From the shape of his mouth, it looked like he was yelling Hey, fuck, what the hell!
At first it shocked me, but now? Barely fazed me.
I tilted my head, one hand in my pocket, watching him sideways.
“Seo Hojin.”
Instead of getting angry at his defiance, I pressed down all my emotions and smiled softly.
“See? Who told you to stab your brother in the back?”
With his jaw tight, veins standing out, Hojin slammed his fist against the wall—then the floor gave way beneath him.
I watched it happen.
My brother was falling away.
[Applying.......]
I kept watching as he left.
Until he was just a dot. Until even that disappeared.
[Applying.......]
[Applying.......]
[...]
[...]
[...]
[Applying.......]
Ding!
[Designated portion has been reset.]
...From now on, he would live an ordinary life in the real world.
[‘Seo Hojin’s life’ has been reset.]
[ERROR!]
[ERROR!]
[ERROR!]
[‘Seo Hojin’s life’ is the initial setting of ‘Unknown Idol Tycoon.’ Resetting the core setting may erase traces of player ‘Seo Hoyun.’]
“Yeah, yeah.”
I muttered absently and looked around. The editing room was half split and a mess, but the screens still floated intact in the air.
What I had left now were the few points remaining even after spending a huge amount on the reset—
[...You’ve lost it. Completely lost it.]
—And the system window grumbling in its familiar tone.
[I helped you, but you’re going to regret this, Mr. Seo Hoyun.]
[Since you cleared Unknown Idol Tycoon, you can’t even die now. You might be trapped here forever, for the rest of your life. You’ll wish you’d just died instead!]
Its curse skills were impressive.
Ignoring the flashing blue window, I shifted my gaze. On one screen I was smiling brightly toward an audience during a concert.
Beside that were countless moments—every choice and decision Hojin had made to save me.
Actor, PD, whatever roles those worlds had given him.
As I watched for a while, a dark shimmer flickered at the edge of my vision.
‘...What the hell is this.’
Still here, huh.
[Game start conditions fulfilled.]
[You can revive player Seo Hoyun by offering Seo Hojin’s life. Start the game?]
“Get lost.”
No need to see any more.
If I accepted, Hojin would just come back here again.
[Game start conditions fulfilled.]
[You can revive player Seo Hoyun by offering Seo Hojin’s life. Start the game?]
“I said get lost.”
Clicking my tongue, I sprawled out on the editing room floor.
Turning my head away from the most brilliant time of my life, I closed my eyes and murmured—
“...Should’ve done it like this from the start.”
From the very beginning.
