Chapter 10: It’s just how I usually am(3)

**Clue 1: Amnesia.**

Having amnesia implies a peculiar past—this is something I’m sure of from years of gaming experience. Not once has this assumption failed.

This amnesia is briefly mentioned in passing. During a key event—where player control is temporarily disabled—Han Yurim’s character and mine exchange a few words. The conversation is oddly significant.

There, Mos realized that both his character and Han Yurim’s Thierry-inspired character lacked any past.

It seemed Han Yurim hadn’t noticed this yet.

**Clue 2: Exceptionally Good Looks.**

Han Yurim’s character was strikingly beautiful.

It was as if someone had artificially crafted her appearance—flawless, without any imperfections.

Such beings were mentioned within the game as well: **”Design Babies.”**

A technology that manipulates DNA to create the perfect human.

Although the technology hadn’t been developed yet, progressing through the story reveals that Stella Corporation was actively researching it.

There’s something called **Chekhov’s Gun Theory**:

If a gun appears in Act 1, it must be fired by Act 3.

This situation felt similar.

If *design babies* were mentioned, then introducing them was only fitting.

**Clue 3.** This one was decisive.

Out of curiosity, I checked—and it turns out Han Yurim is the **developer of *Fantasy Life*.**

Is she famous?

Nah, she’s not famous. The game only came out recently, and it probably sold around 50 copies?
Honestly, I only played it because no new PC games were coming out—if it had been VR, I wouldn’t have even found it.

*Still playing PC games, huh? Boomer? *

You’re not much younger, you [redacted].

There was a bit of commotion, but in summary, here’s what the chat in the game gallery’s lounge boiled down to:

Although people haven’t played many of Han Yurim’s games, judging from *Fantasy Life*, her narrative philosophy seems a bit twisted.

She likely enjoys giving people shocking experiences.

With that in mind, as the story progressed, more clues started to fall into place.

Is this some kind of cyberization technology? Or maybe personality overlay? Seems like the Stella chairman doesn’t care about stuff like the *Ship of Theseus*, huh?

His character resembled the chairman in his younger days. Although Han Yurim’s character didn’t look like the chairman due to being female, her flawless appearance was too striking to ignore. The implication was clear—both characters were *designer babies* intended as potential vessels for the Stella chairman.

The same applied to the cyberization technology. At first glance, it seemed like the research had failed. However, unlike the other projects, there were signs that it had been deliberately scrapped.

This was proof that someone had stolen the research data.

Moss recalled the information he had obtained during the raid on Stella Corporation’s cyberization lab.

The cyberization technology Stella had been developing was different from conventional methods.

In summary, it involved the *preservation and download* of personalities—an unsettling technology that allowed memories to be overlaid onto a compatible body.

Moreover, this memory downloading wasn’t done through the implantation of chips in the brain or through any sort of mechanical headgear.

It was more sophisticated and ambiguous than that.

In fact, the memory download had already been completed—right after the characters of Han Yurim and Moss were finished at Stella Corporation.

The activation level of Han Yurim I just saw was at 89 percent.

I hadn’t checked, but Moss would likely be similar.

Once that activation level reached 100 percent, the personality of the chairman would awaken immediately. There was no stopping that. After all, the design of a design baby was inherently meant to function that way.

Han Yurim’s conjecture was somewhat correct.

To raise that activation level, the tax accountant had given various missions to both herself and Han Yurim’s character.

So, the tax accountant was indeed an employee of Stella.

However, he wasn’t the mastermind.

Ultimately, the true puppet master was the chairman, who had planned all of this.

“Such a really unpleasant story. Just look at his personality.”

Mos clicked his tongue and drew his gun.

If his personality were to be taken away, it would be equivalent to dying.

Therefore, in order for Mos’s character to survive, they had to stop the chairman’s scheme, but the scheme had already begun and had likely been over for a while.

This means that the options for stopping it are limited.

The cleanest solution would indeed be to overwrite the chairman’s memories onto the character’s memories.

This method also raises issues of personal identity and other uncomfortable questions, but it was better than the situation where his personality was completely taken away.

The problem, however, was that the data needed for the personality download had been destroyed and no longer existed in the world…

This could be resolved in some way.

In front of me was an unactivated brain.

Fortunately, the basement of the villa had plenty of related facilities, so if I knocked out Han Yurim’s character and secured the brain, the next steps would be straightforward.

By securing the data for the brain download and reinstalling the personality into my own body, I might not reach a happy ending, but at least I would survive.

To arrive at this conclusion, I gathered with the members of the chatroom and brainstormed.

I genuinely thought my hair was going to fall out. It felt like the creator, Han Yurim, intended for us to experience a bad ending from the start, as there were hardly any clues to go on.

‘By the way, Han Yurim doesn’t seem to know any of this until the end.’

Usually, in games with such elements of deduction, one must be careful about spoilers. Knowing the truth can greatly diminish the enjoyment of the game.

That’s why Mos had doubts about whether being with the creator would make the game feel odd, but for some reason, Han Yurim was completely oblivious to the game’s content.

Whether it was an act or a lie didn’t really matter.

‘Finally, we’re facing off.’

Mos had witnessed Han Yurim’s brilliant debut in its entirety. He instinctively recognized her reaction speed, which surpassed human limits.

Seeing her incredible physicality, every gamer would think the same thing.

“I want to see what you’re made of.”

And now, the opportunity to realize that thought had arisen.

Mos loaded his pistol.

*Click.*

“Malangmabbak? Is something wrong?”

Han Yurim hesitated and turned her body, but Mos ignored her and pulled the trigger.

Bang! The gun fired.

Twisting her body to dodge the bullet, Han Yurim shouted,
“What if the original betrays us?”

“Why are you asking me? The person who made this game is you, Yurim!”

This battle was clearly advantageous to the side that noticed first. The element of surprise offered significant advantages.

Of course, Mos didn’t want the confrontation to end with a simple ambush, but he also didn’t want to waste the opportunity he had earned through deduction.

It wasn’t cheating; it was a legitimate advantage obtained through careful observation, after all. So, without hesitation, he fired the gun.

But Han Yurim evaded the bullet with her monstrous reflexes.

Mos calmly drew his sword.

No matter how realistic the game felt, it was still just that—a game.

A few bullets wouldn’t be enough to take a character down.

However, this way, he couldn’t reduce her health.

It wasn’t an ideal situation at all.

The battle system of *Excel Busters* was easily divided into two categories:

Whether to turn the system assist on or off.

After experimenting, it turned out that system assist should always be turned off.

Using various martial arts skills was beneficial, but, as with everything, just wanting to do it didn’t mean it was possible.

For example, in *Eternal World*, it was always better to watch the entire motion of a skill and react accordingly, but not everyone could perform such feats.

Turning off the system assist in *Excel Busters* was similar.

The assist feature was there for a reason; once it was turned off, the difficulty of executing skills increased dramatically.

The accuracy of motions, speed, and power adjustment—there were so many factors to pay attention to. Getting used to it wasn’t something that could be done in a day or two; it would take at least six months to master.

Therefore, Mos chose to focus his efforts. His specialty was optimization. Even in *Eternal World*, he had the main position of scout, where the cleanliness of movement was crucial.

He pondered which martial arts were the most effective and which combinations of techniques provided the highest efficiency. Though time was too short to refine everything to perfection, he felt adequately prepared.

As Han Yurim’s sword clashed with Mos’s, he adopted a defensive swordplay style. He resolved not to engage unless he had a clear opening, cultivating patience in the heat of battle.

The petals were etched in the air. Just a single petal, but the force it carried was significant.

Without any special techniques, Han Yurim finally began to draw a circle with her movements—Tai Chi. The petal returned to her, and Mos quickly executed a parry.

It was too easily deflected.

However, this time, two petals had gathered.

Mos continued to swing his sword. With each strike, more petals accumulated—three, four, five…

Eventually, plum blossoms bloomed from Mos’s sword.

Was her movement too exceptional? It wasn’t that there hadn’t been professional gamers of such caliber before. Of course, whenever they appeared, they dominated the era.

And they were not invincible.

Professionals fight to win. They always seek out methods.

**Method 1:** Targeting Crowd Control (CC) abilities.

Mos knew that if he could land a CC move on Han Yurim, he would create an opening to strike decisively.

No matter how skilled someone is at dodging, they can’t escape targeting abilities.

This tactic had been a beloved strategy for a long time.

However, **<Excel Busters>** lacked targeting CC skills.

He needed to find another approach.

**Method 2:** Area of Effect (AoE) skills.

Using AoE attacks could potentially catch Han Yurim off guard, forcing her to deal with multiple threats at once. Mos began to strategize how to leverage this to his advantage.

Even with great movement skills, there’s no escaping an area-wide attack.

And **<Excel Busters>** certainly had AoE skills.

**[Plum Blossom Longing]**

With the activation of the skill, the world around him filled with untouched plum blossoms.

The flowers began to bloom slowly, surrounding them in a beautiful yet ominous display.

Mos readied himself, knowing that the power of the skill was about to unfold.

At that moment, Han Yurim stomped her foot.

*Boom.* The atmosphere compressed around them. It was the same technique used by the fake final boss, the head of security.

This was insane. How was she using that?

Han Yurim charged forward, her intent clear: she wanted to finish Mos before all the plum blossoms could fully bloom.

Her sword darted through the air with blinding speed, aiming straight for him.

Mos had to think fast.

It was as if her speed could reach the sun itself.

*Damn, this really is the final boss*—Mos thought, trying to keep up.

He struggled to resist, but facing Han Yurim, who skillfully chained together an array of martial arts, felt like an insurmountable challenge.

Having reduced him to a near-death state, Han Yurim climbed onto Mos, pinning him down.

“You really thought you could take me on?” she smirked, the glint in her eyes suggesting she had won this round.

Mos gasped for breath, the weight of defeat pressing heavily on him.

As the plum blossoms finally bloomed all around them, Han Yurim slowly spoke.

“Mos.”

“Go ahead.”

“So, what’s the story behind the betrayal? I’ve been thinking about it, but I just don’t get it.”

“…Just watch my broadcast replays,” he replied, a hint of a smirk on his face despite his precarious situation.

Han Yurim raised an eyebrow, her expression a mix of curiosity and disbelief. “Is that really all you can say? You’re not even going to give me a hint?”

Mos chuckled weakly, feeling the tension of their confrontation wane, if only slightly. “The hints are there if you look closely. Just connect the dots.”

She narrowed her eyes, clearly frustrated yet intrigued. “Fine, I’ll dig through your streams. But you better hope I don’t figure it out before our next fight.”

With that, the moment lingered, the air thick with anticipation as the blossoms danced around them.

Mos smiled at Han Yurim’s compliment.

“So, let’s meet again in the next battle.”

At that moment, darkness enveloped his vision. The sharp sound of the sword pierced his ears, heightening the tension.

[GAME OVER]

This phrase appeared on the screen, and he had to accept his fate. However, Han Yurim’s gaze remained fiery.

“This isn’t the end, Mos. Next time, I will definitely win.”

Her determination felt intense, and Mos prepared to rise again. This fight wasn’t over, and he vowed to seize the next opportunity.

He had anticipated this, but this wasn’t the happy ending—the true ending.

The endings would vary based on the choices made in the final chapter, and with just a bit more time invested, he could experience all the endings.

However, Mos decided to turn off the game and remove his VR headset.

He wouldn’t play this game with Han Yurim anymore. Instead, he thought he’d do it later with the viewers.