My heart dropped in an instant.
— My name? I don’t have one.
— I’m just an NPC.
— Even if I had a name, there’d be no reason for anyone to call it — and no one should. I’m just… an NPC.
About two years ago, back when the system hadn’t yet sent me its first warning message.
I had said those words to Jeong Euijin when he asked for my name.
That I had no name.
That in this godforsaken world, I was nothing more than a spare part — an NPC shackled to the system far more tightly than any Player.
I remembered the look on Jeong Euijin’s face when I said that.
He hadn’t understood.
And yet he hadn’t pushed back carelessly — he’d only moved his lips with quiet hesitation, saying nothing.
The reason I hadn’t given my name back then was just… how to put it.
A kind of defiance.
It was self-mockery at my own circumstances — reduced to an NPC with no purpose beyond selling things to Players — and a small, petty way of venting at the dullness stretching out endlessly ahead.
Back then, I had been barely holding on through Trait: Mental Stability, but it seemed I’d still had just enough energy left for one small act of rebellion.
After the system sent its warning to behave more like a proper NPC, I let go of even that.
There was no way I wouldn’t know what Jeong Euijin meant — the memory was still vivid even after two years. And yet I slowly turned my head away and squirmed to push his arms off.
“I genuinely don’t know what you’re talking about. This is the first time I’ve seen you in person.”
“Stop lying.”
Jeong Euijin’s hand caught my jaw as I turned away, and pulled it back to face him. It wasn’t painful — but it was an iron grip I had absolutely no way of breaking free from.
Damn Player.
With physical ability that absurdly high, he could probably see exactly where my face was and where I was looking even in pitch darkness like this.
Jeong Euijin forced me to meet his gaze, careful not to hurt me, and dropped his voice another register.
“You know me. …You remember me, Lee Jaea.”
His voice wavered for a moment, and then he was switching between formal speech and informal without any consistency — entirely on his own terms.
But I could hardly snap back with “Oh right, you’re one of my regulars!” at this point.
Even if Jeong Euijin was a regular at the Special Supply Station — someone I’d grown genuinely fond of over two whole years — he was still a Player. There was no telling what he might do when faced with an NPC who’d been cut loose and was wandering free.
This was nothing like the old days when the Special Supply Station’s many rules had kept me protected. If this man wanted to twist my wrist or shatter my jaw, I had no means to stop him.
On top of that, without the magic of that office at the Special Supply Station where wounds healed overnight, I couldn’t afford to be found out as an NPC by any Player, no matter who they were.
“I seriously have no idea what you’re saying. Can you just let go of me——!”
“After the Supply Station was destroyed, I searched like a madman. I used every trace I had — your voice, your silhouette, your way of speaking — and I looked for nothing but you.”
Why the hell were you looking for me that desperately, you lunatic!
A terrifying Player closing in on level 60 had been out there hunting me down.
That alone delivered a bone-deep chill that not even Trait: Mental Stability could fully absorb. I found myself involuntarily running through every interaction I’d had with Jeong Euijin, wondering if I’d done something wrong somewhere.
Things between us were fine, weren’t they? It was decent enough, right? Oh — wait, don’t tell me it’s about the handkerchief? That’s exactly why he shouldn’t have forced it on me when I said I didn’t need it!
The thought that he might have been hunting me down just to get back the pricey Healing Handkerchief hit me hard, and suddenly the urge to return it on the spot and the instinct to feign ignorance until the bitter end were fighting it out in my head.
While I was tangled up in that, Jeong Euijin — who had been watching me in silence — lowered his forehead and rested it gently against my shoulder. The press of his forehead, settling a little of its weight against me, was warmer than I expected, and it beat steadily against me like a second heartbeat.
“Do you truly not know me? Do you really not remember?”
“…I told you, I don’t.”
I kept playing ignorant, and now both of Jeong Euijin’s hands had moved to grip my arms. I was grateful he held them without causing pain — but by this point, my head was too tangled for me to even register such details.
I really shouldn’t have taken the handkerchief. Damn it.
“We met at the Special Supply Station. I came back every time, didn’t I. Jaea.”
Yes, I remember.
You came so often I had your entire routine memorized — knew exactly what you’d buy each visit.
But what came out of my mouth was a startled, flustered voice that could rival any actor’s.
“So what are you even——!”
“You saved my life!”
Jeong Euijin’s shout cut clean through my act.
What did he just say?
I’d been bracing myself for him to demand the handkerchief back, so those out-of-nowhere words left me silent.
That silence must have made him anxious, because he tightened his hold on my hand.
“With your voice… with this hand, you saved me. Are you going to say you don’t remember that either?”
How could I not remember.
It was during the days when I dragged myself through each day in a stupor, burying every feeling as deep as it would go — and I’d saved you because I just wanted to smell something human, wanted to chase away the loneliness even a little.
How could I ever forget that.
“Is it the system…? I thought it had finally loosened its hold a little… and now it’s even taken your memories……”
Now I understand.
Jeong Euijin hadn’t found out I was an NPC and come to exploit that for his own gain.
He wasn’t pressing me like this to get his hands on my items or anything else.
He just……
He missed me.
Enough to drag up memories from two years ago and turn them over and over in his mind.
Enough to recognize me in an instant from nothing more than a blurry silhouette and a voice — a face he couldn’t even remember clearly because of the Perception Interference.
Something deep and long-submerged stirred inside me without my permission.
For two years I had been nothing but a component in this wretched world — not by choice, but by the system’s design. An NPC whose face couldn’t even be held in another person’s memory.
And yet the simple fact that someone had remembered me, had wanted to find me —
was enough to make my heart, quiet for two long years, ache just a little.
I don’t trust Players.
They had overwhelming strength and crushing levels — power enough to exploit anyone weaker — and I was nothing more than a fragile NPC this world could discard at any moment.
But…
— I’m… Jeong Euijin.
— What’s your name, hyung?
If it was Jeong Euijin — the first person to ever ask my name and call me hyung.
If it was Jeong Euijin — who had looked at me not as an NPC but as a person, from two years ago until now.
Maybe I can trust him.
Just this one person — I thought it might be all right for him to know me completely.
I slowly reached out and began to gently stroke the back of Jeong Euijin’s hand where it gripped mine, trembling. He flinched, then slowly lifted his head.
Only then did my eyes, finally adjusted to the dark, find his gaze exactly.
What kind of look is that.
Sorrow, anxiety, anguish, desolation, emptiness……
A tangle of negative emotions too many to count. And yet within all of them, there wasn’t a single flicker of blame or reproach directed at me.
What lie could I possibly tell to a person like this.
A person who held my hand even now with no trace of hostility — holding back from gripping it properly for fear of causing pain.
In the darkness, I let the corner of my mouth curve upward.
It resembled the professional smile I’d worn every time I welcomed a Player at the Special Supply Station — and yet it was the same softly curved smile I had always, only for Jeong Euijin, let come a little more naturally.
“…Jeong Euijin, I——”
Just as I was about to tell him I was an NPC —
<Trait: Mental Stability’s secondary effect has been triggered.>
The system window appearing before my eyes made me flinch.
Wait — it’s already midnight?
My vision, already dark, winked out entirely. Jeong Euijin’s eyes, his silhouette — all of it disappeared.
“Lee Jaea!”
The last thing I heard was Jeong Euijin calling my name.
And then —
<07:00>
The first thing I heard upon opening my eyes was also Jeong Euijin calling my name.
“Lee Jaea, are you awake?”
I slowly turned toward the sound and found myself staring quietly at Jeong Euijin’s strikingly handsome face, bathed in soft morning light.
“Um… Jeong Euijin?”
“Yes.”
I watched him answer so readily, took a slow breath, and asked:
“Why are we… lying in the same bed?”
Jeong Euijin, who had been lying boldly right beside me, curved the corners of his eyes. That beautiful smile left me completely speechless.
