Terms I Refuse to Accept

I glared at the wall radiating discomfort for a moment, then looked away.

‘Let’s check somewhere else.’

That was what I thought. I really did mean to get up.

“Too comfortable….”

The hotel’s bedding was offering a level of coziness I had never experienced before.

It was nothing like the thin sheet I used as a substitute for a bed back in the bunker.

I wanted to sink into this bed forever.

My body was already exhausted, and peeling myself away from the mattress wasn’t easy.

Won-gyeong, who had to be even more tired than I was after dealing with monsters, was thoroughly inspecting the room over there.

I hugged the fluffy pillow tightly to my chest.

Get up.

‘I’ll just count to three, then I’ll really get up and look for those so-called mysterious arrays.’

One… two….

Three comes after two, right….

Groaning softly, I pulled the pillow out of my arms.

Ah, right. I could start by checking the bed.

I managed to sit up, but still couldn’t bring myself to leave the bed.

A bright idea struck me, and I leaned back against the headboard with satisfaction.

Sitting comfortably with my back supported, I casually checked the pillows scattered around me one by one.

I flipped over the covers without much care, and just as I was checking the fourth pillow—

Something small inside caught my fingers.

It felt like paper… or maybe cloth.

What is this?

[You have obtained ‘Mysterious Array’. Progress has been updated.]

[Progress 1/3]

Oh.
Found one already.

It was a small piece of cloth no bigger than my palm, marked with strange red patterns.

Unreadable symbols were irregularly arranged inside a circular border.

As I stared at the array I still couldn’t read, footsteps approached.

When I looked up, Won-gyeong was walking toward me.

It seemed my sudden silence after all that rustling on the bed had caught his attention.

He came closer and held out his hand, clearly asking for the cloth.

I worried whether handing it over would reset the system’s progress, but thankfully, once found, the progress didn’t decrease.

Won-gyeong examined the array carefully and asked,

“Where did you find this?”

“Inside a pillow. Right here.”

I pointed at the pillowcase I’d just turned inside out. Won-gyeong’s expression subtly changed.

He looked like someone who knew exactly what the array was for.

‘Wait… does he really know?’

Won-gyeong was an ability user who could divine and cast curses.

And that array looked exactly like something used for spells or curses.

Having reached that conclusion, I didn’t hesitate to ask.

“Do you know what this is?”

“It’s not a picture. It’s a ritual array. An old form of magic. I don’t know how monsters came to know about it.”

“What kind of spell is it?”

“A mild curse that forcibly binds a connection between two people.

On its own, it doesn’t have much effect. At most, it temporarily raises affinity.”

As I listened, I quietly summoned the system window in my mind.

[Current area: ‘Top-Floor Suite’. Locate, interpret, and activate 3 hidden ‘Mysterious Arrays’.]

[Once all 3 ‘Mysterious Arrays’ are collected, interpretation and activation will proceed automatically.]

I reread the description and ground my teeth.

That bastard system had set a trap. It was trying to activate a bond-binding curse.

‘No way I’m finding the rest!’

I clenched my jaw.

This dating simulation was constantly trying to force the scenario forward whenever it could.

A ruthless game that completely ignored the player’s will.

‘I don’t care about capture targets or whatever. I’m just going for the survive-ending!’

While I was silently seething, Won-gyeong stared at the array with a troubled expression.

He’d said it was a mild curse, but there was clear discomfort on his face.

When I tilted my head in confusion, he composed his expression as if it were nothing.

But he couldn’t quite hide it, forming an odd smile that only lifted the corners of his lips.

‘Ah… is it because of that?’

Watching that strained smile, I remembered the sentence we’d seen before entering the hotel.

One fertile woman and one fertile man may pass.

Recalling it, I could guess the source of Won-gyeong’s discomfort.

This place felt like a massive breeding ground.

A location openly designed to extract something by forcing humans to reproduce.

‘Should I pretend not to notice?’

I was weighing what the most rational response would be when I saw Won-gyeong crumple the cloth with irritation.

That made my decision for me.

It was better to let him know I understood. That way, we could be prepared if something happened.

“Can I say something that might be uncomfortable? It’s about this place.”

He looked down at me sitting on the bed, met my eyes, and nodded.

“I thought about the message we saw before entering and this place together.

We were told we could stay for up to a year. And the array you explained binds connections, right?”

Won-gyeong folded his arms and leaned against the wall beside the bed, as if he already knew what I was about to say.

His gaze fixed on empty space, deep in thought.

Seeing him avert his eyes, I continued.

“This is probably a massive breeding facility. I think they want human children.

You said before that sometimes the conditions for leaving a rift get distorted. This might be an extension of that.”

“…I was thinking the same thing.”

He replied with a heavy sigh.

“If we give the monsters what they want, we might be able to leave. But I won’t stay here for a year.

And you don’t need to give them what they want. You can rest assured about that—”

“Then maybe we can use that to shake them off.”

I cut him off.

Won-gyeong looked at me like he didn’t quite understand what I meant.

I stood up from the bed, put on the shoes I’d left underneath, and stepped in front of him.

Leaning against the wall, he frowned slightly as I got closer, signaling me to back off.

I ignored the nonverbal cue and said,

“The monsters clearly want children. Which means they won’t interfere if we sleep together.”

“So what exactly are you trying to say?”

“It doesn’t mean much to me. So if the situation calls for it, you can hold me whenever you want.”

When I finished speaking without changing my expression, Won-gyeong’s face twisted subtly.

He looked like he had a lot to say.

‘Was that too blunt?’

He stared at me in silence.

Then, as if asking me to look, he raised the hand holding the coin to my eye level.

The coin drifting across his fingers suddenly stopped.

He lowered his gaze to check it, then let out a long sigh.

“You’re serious.”

Looks like the result said it wasn’t a lie.

I nodded lightly.

“As long as we’re careful about contraception, it doesn’t matter. Once we leave the rift, it’ll be like nothing happened.

You don’t have to worry that I’ll demand anything.”

[Due to the player’s actions, a sub-objective has been generated.]

[This objective is accepted automatically.]

[Failure to complete this objective will result in a penalty.]

The system message appeared at the same time.

Penalty?

It was my first time seeing that word. As I frowned in confusion, Won-gyeong spoke in a gentle but firm voice.

“I understand how you feel. But that won’t happen. Even if it means nothing to you, it does to me.”

I see. Then it couldn’t be helped.

I nodded.

“I meant only if the moment called for it. If you don’t want to, I won’t force you.

Just keep in mind that it’s an option. You never know when we might need it.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.”

Won-gyeong replied coolly, his tone distant.

He pushed past my shoulder blocking his way and resumed inspecting the room without looking at me.

As I watched his back, the system appeared again.

[Sub-scenario ‘Won-gyeong 1 – Observation’]

[Current relationship status with capture target: ‘Guarded’.]

[Within 72 hours, the player must raise the relationship status to ‘Friendly’ or higher.]

[Relationship status is determined by ‘Emotional Exchange’ or ‘Physical Contact’.]

[Even if emotional exchange is insufficient, physical contact may raise the relationship to ‘Friendly’.]

After reading it carefully, I crumpled my face in frustration.

‘He literally just rejected that. What are you even saying?’

I set aside the physical contact option and thought about alternatives.

Won-gyeong and Jeong Iheon weren’t the type to open up easily.

Emotionally connecting with them was a nightmare difficulty route.

Ju Noeul, who shouted and argued openly, would honestly be easier.

The system seemed well aware of Won-gyeong’s disposition.

That was why it had already prepared a fallback option: physical contact.

So this is how dating simulation games worked?

‘Even for an R-rated dating game, telling you to jump straight into bed with someone you barely know by name is insane.’

I evaluated the system’s demand from a cold, objective perspective.

It might mean little to me, but by ordinary standards, Won-gyeong’s reaction was far more normal.

A relationship that started with bodies colliding first was unlikely to develop into anything healthy.