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The familiar message appeared on screen. Shiwoo and Yerang, watching the stream together, were left baffled. They had been just as curious as the other viewers, only for the stream to end abruptly.

“What the hell…”

Yerang clicked her tongue in disappointment and glanced at Shiwoo to gauge his reaction. Although he hadn’t been angry earlier, she still had to be wary of Shiwoo’s mood.

Fortunately, Shiwoo seemed more preoccupied than upset, staring at the now-ended stream with a peculiar expression.

“Always something that sets him apart, isn’t it?”

He often mumbled to himself, though not all of his mutterings were meant solely for himself. This one was clearly for Yerang to hear.

“What’s different?”

“Suhyuk.”

Throughout the stream, Shiwoo had been thinking about Suhyuk.

“If it were him, he would never have broadcasted in the first place.”

Yerang nodded at his response.

“Right, that definitely makes sense.”

“But if someone threatened him that he had to stream or else…”

“Who?”

“I mean, hypothetically.”

Shiwoo’s interruption made Yerang sigh as she continued.

“Anyway, if someone forced him into a scenario where he had no choice but to stream, maybe he would’ve acted the same.”

“A situation where he absolutely had to stream…”

No matter how hard he thought, Shiwoo couldn’t come up with such a scenario. Furrowing his brow in deep thought, Shiwoo asked.

“What about you?”

“What?”

“You’ve seen him in person.”

Yerang recalled seeing Lee Suhyuk. Through the stream screens, the big monitors at the tournament, and even from a distance, she had observed him.

And the feeling remained the same—

“He was similar.”

They resembled each other. The Suhyuk she knew.

“But they’re not the same person.”

Her firm statement took Shiwoo by surprise.

“Do you think I don’t know you? You were wondering, weren’t you? If this could be him.”

“Well…”

“Do you think I didn’t consider it too? But it’s not him.”

Yerang was certain. Undoubtedly, she had thought about it more than he had. Whether they could be the same person.

However.

“For him to be that guy, two conditions would have to be met.”

The more she thought about it, the less likely it seemed.

“First, he’d have to have been reincarnated. Otherwise, there’s no way he could have gone back to the first floor to start the trials over.”

That was true. And it was the biggest reason why Shiwoo and Yerang didn’t believe Suhyuk to be the same person they knew.

A player who had ascended the tower could not take the lower floor trials again.

And the second reason—

“The second is what we already talked about.”

“The situation where someone has to stream?”

“Yes.”

Those two reasons were precisely why Yerang was certain he was not the same person.

“The likelihood of a reincarnated Suhyuk having someone holding a knife to his throat, forcing him to stream… How likely could that be?”

***

In a castle located on the fifth floor, a visitor had arrived. His name was Cheon Ryang. One of the countless players scattered like pebbles throughout the vast Murim World.

Step, step—

However, today, Cheon Ryang was walking along a long red silk path, marching towards the center of the castle. Flanked on both sides by intimidating guards.

Glancing to his sides—

Cheon Ryang observed his “escorts” knowing fully well they were there more for surveillance and intimidation. He wondered why he had come this far.

“I knew this would happen…”

“What did you say?”

The guard beside him asked, catching his whispered complaint, causing Cheon Ryang to shake his head.

“Nothing. It’s nothing.”

“If you have something to say, tell the Lord directly. No pointless chatter.”

“Yes…”

He involuntarily hunched his shoulders. Although he had often visited as a child, he had not been to the castle in the past decade, making the experience all the more daunting.

‘I never thought I’d come back here.’

He would have preferred to avoid this place forever.

“But I lost the bet, didn’t I?”

He had no choice. Otherwise, his already strained finances would be completely depleted.

Moreover—

‘Un Hyang, that guy…’

Gazing at the massive doors adorned with dragon motifs, Cheon Ryang thought of Un Hyang.

“…Sorry it turned out this way. Just mark it down as a debt.”

‘When was the last time I heard her say sorry?’

Hearing an apology from Un Hyang was rare. The fact that she mentioned a debt indicated that she took the matter seriously.

‘For how long had he been contemplating?’

Cheon Ryang knew, as did Un Hyang, that even betting a month’s salary on a wager and then nullifying it was not a fair balance.

“Sigh…”

He exhaled deeply, watching as the grand doors slowly opened. Un Hyang had used the bet as an excuse, making an unusual request because he didn’t want to cross that door.

A person who rarely asked for favors had leveraged a bet she knew he would lose right from the start.

‘How could I refuse after that?’

Creak—

The doors fully opened, revealing the castle’s opulent interior. Golden walls adorned with luxurious fabrics and the scent of incense more expensive than gold filled his nostrils.

It was a place hard to adapt to, making him feel as though he had entered a different world.

‘And the most out-of-place thing here…’

Cheon Ryang’s gaze traveled to the far end of the silk path, where a man sat alone, dominating the vast throne room. Someone he hadn’t seen in a long time, and even after a long absence, it was difficult to acclimate to his presence.

Outwardly, the man appeared to be an amiable, middle-aged gentleman. His simple, gray silk robe clashed with the castle’s grandeur.

Approaching the man, Cheon Ryang brought his hands together in a respectful gesture and greeted him.

“I greet the Lord of the castle. Have you been well?”

“No need for such formalities. Just call me ‘uncle’ as you used to.”

Peculiar, golden-yellow eyes looked down upon him.

“Like in the old days.”

The voice was warm and kind. To an outsider, it might even sound like a friendly greeting. But Cheon Ryang knew better than to be deceived by appearances. He knew he couldn’t afford to show weakness.

Thus he replied.

“Understood, uncle.”

Cheon Ryang’s provocation brought a smile to the man’s face. He wanted to understand the expression better, but he couldn’t decipher it. The more Cheon Ryang tried to know him, the deeper into the labyrinth he felt.

‘I shouldn’t have called him ‘uncle’.’

But it was too late to regret it now. Once he’d called him ‘uncle’ he had to stick with it to the end.

And this man before him—

The second-in-command of the grand guild ‘Murim’ and Lord of Shinryeonseong, Un Cheon-guk—was no exception.

“Well then, how have you been? No problems, I hope?”

“Yes, thanks to your concern.”

“I hear you’re working at Balhae Entertainment? How is it there?”

Cheon Ryang felt his breath catch at that question.

“It’s quite a substantial place. I was curious when I heard you were working there, so I checked it out a few times. Lee Suhyuk….”

Un Cheon-guk’s expression momentarily shifted as he mentioned that name before returning to normal.

“He’s interesting. Or should I say, fascinating? You have an eye for talent, finding someone like him.”

“…Since when?”

“What do you mean?”

“Since when did you know we were working for Balhae?”

He had suspected Un Cheon-guk might already know. The fact that Un Hyang had sent him here indicated that Un Cheon-guk had found her again.

But from Un Cheon-guk’s words, it seemed it hadn’t been a recent discovery.

“Well, is that really important?”

“It might not be significant to you, but—”

Cheon Ryang clamped his mouth shut mid-sentence. Un Cheon-guk was smiling. Provoking him further wouldn’t end well.

Despite asking him to call him ‘uncle’, he was still the second-in-command of ‘Murim’, one of the dominant forces in this vast world.

“Let’s discuss something else.”

As Cheon Ryang stopped speaking, Un Cheon-guk naturally changed the topic.

“Since changing kits, I couldn’t get in touch with Un Hyang. The same with you.”

“… Yes, there was a new release.”

“Is that so? I suppose. You two have always been close, so it makes sense you’d change together.”

Accepting the implausible excuse, Un Cheon-guk asked, “So, did you bring Un Hyang’s answer?”

The reason Cheon Ryang was granted such grand treatment upon entering the castle—

The reason he could have a private audience with Un Cheon-guk—

“Yes, I brought her answer.”

It was precisely because of this.

“Really? What is it?”

“Her answer is…”

Taking a deep breath, Cheon Ryang spoke,

“She declines.”

“…I see.”

Goong—

The hall slightly trembled. According to Un Cheon-guk’s emotion, the golden walls and floor began to crack faintly.

And observing this, Cheon Ryang idly thought, ‘The repair guys are going to have a hard time.’

He knew very well that Un Cheon-guk would react this way. He knew the extent of his power.

“Decline, huh… Decline…”

Un Cheon-guk kept muttering the same word repeatedly. A habit for when something didn’t sit well with him. After a moment of muttering, he asked, “Do you know what question this answer pertains to?”

“I do not.”

“You don’t? Yet you came anyway?”

“Yes.”

Cheon Ryang nodded, providing a plausible context for this outrageous answer.

“Because we’re friends. Inseparable.”

Cheon Ryang truly didn’t know. If it had been something he needed to know, Un Hyang would have told him when sending him here.

But she didn’t.

All she said was—

“All you need to convey is my answer: no.”

She sent him off with just that single line. So he hadn’t asked. Because it seemed like she didn’t want to talk about it.

“…I see. You were, after all.”

Un Cheon-guk’s expression shifted subtly. It was hard to tell if he was displeased or perhaps somewhat pleased.

As his rapidly changing expressions continued to flicker, Cheon Ryang sensed that his own fate would be determined by whichever expression he settled on.

After what felt like an eternity—

“It seems…”

Un Cheon-guk spoke again.

“You are that person’s envoy after all.”

A peculiar conclusion. And with that conclusion, Cheon Ryang instinctively knew that a difficult situation was about to get even harder.

“Excuse me? No, I just lost a bet, and—”

“Then relay this.”

Un Cheon-guk didn’t acknowledge the explanation about the bet. Cheon Ryang sighed. It was no use. Un Cheon-guk had no intention of listening to what he had to say.

Ultimately, Cheon Ryang had no choice but to stand and listen to what Un Cheon-guk had to say.

“If she continues to act on her own, I won’t just stand by and watch the place you’re involved with.”