007. Tutorial Begins (7)
“…Whoever came up with this has a twisted sense of humor.”
With the message announcing the start of Stage 2, the walls surrounding Jaehee on all sides slowly sank into the ground. Then countless versions of Shin Jaehee began to emerge. Before long, an endless sea of Shin Jaehees spread across the landscape, far too many to count.
The message “Find the real me” continued flashing before his eyes.
The system’s intent was crystal clear. It wanted him to eliminate these copies.
Jaehee stood there expressionlessly for a long time, staring at the images of himself, feeling utterly overwhelmed.
Jaehee bit down hard on his lip and tightened his grip on his sword. He didn’t like this, but there was no other way to escape this place.
…Right. I’ll just think of them as dolls.
Even as he hesitated, dolls resembling himself kept appearing.
He wasn’t sure if he could destroy all of them, but he clenched his teeth and started swinging his sword.
Crash—
When the sword touched the figure that looked like him, it shattered into pieces with a clear, ringing sound. Jaehee startled and stared blankly for a moment before shaking his head. Seeing his own face shattered and scattered across the ground was deeply unsettling, but if it had bled when stabbed, it would have been truly unbearable. Thinking it was better this way, Jaehee began swinging his sword again.
Shatter-shatter-shatter-shatter-crash. Crash, crash.
They broke apart with almost cheerful sounds, like glass shattering. He swung his sword frantically without rest until his arms trembled. The glass figures shattered chaotically all around him.
Eventually, Jaehee caught his breath and paused for a moment.
Looking behind him, he saw the remains of countless Shin Jaehees he’d destroyed. He turned his head to look forward. There were even more Shin Jaehees standing ahead than the ones he’d already eliminated. Seeing this, he bit down hard on his lip.
At this rate, he’d never destroy them all. Even now, dolls bearing Shin Jaehee’s image continued to appear.
Shin Jaehee glared at the doll standing before him.
Then, the eyes of the Shin Jaehee doll, which had been motionless until now, suddenly moved. The creepiness of it made Jaehee unconsciously step back. The doll then curved its lips into a smirk and smiled.
“Hello, Shin Jaehee.”
“Wh-what?”
Just then, something approached from behind him. He’d been so focused on the doll in front of him that he only belatedly realized something was closing in.
“Aah, wh-what is this?”
“Hyung. Hello?”
What had approached from behind was also Shin Jaehee, but a young Shin Jaehee around the age of an upper elementary school student.
Shin Jaehee’s face hardened as he came face to face with this younger version of himself. Now he was starting to understand what the system wanted.
“My name is Shin Jaehee. What’s your name, hyung?”
Even though Jaehee didn’t answer, his younger self kept chattering away.
“How… old are you?”
His voice came out low and hoarse. The young Jaehee looked at him and laughed brightly with a clear, ringing voice.
“You don’t even know that? You’re silly, silly! I’m twelve! I’m in 5th grade!”
Shin Jaehee stared at the little Shin Jaehee with the expression of someone looking at something foreign and unfamiliar.
Fifth grade.
That was the period when his constantly fighting parents finally separated.
But neither his mother nor his father wanted to take Jaehee. Eventually, he ended up at his paternal grandmother’s house in the countryside. He didn’t dislike his grandmother, but visiting occasionally during vacations was completely different from living there permanently.
Moreover, adapting to a middle school with fewer than twenty students total was incredibly difficult.
Making friends and studying were entirely different from what he’d known. Throughout middle school, Jaehee’s only goal was to get into a high school in Seoul.
Shin Jaehee looked at the little Shin Jaehee with a bitter smile.
Rosy cheeks.
An innocent face.
An expression as if everything in the world was happy and joyful.
Shin Jaehee from that time had never worn such a bright expression.
That was fake.
The moment he realized this, the young Shin Jaehee crumbled away into nothing.
There was a bitter taste in his mouth. Jaehee turned his head to look at the version of himself standing across from him.
“Who are you?”
“I’m Shin Jaehee.”
It smiled and answered his question.
“Then how old are you?”
He hadn’t noticed while mindlessly destroying them, but each Shin Jaehee was slightly different. The Shin Jaehee standing in front of him now was also subtly different from his current self.
“I’m… 17 years old. A first-year in high school.”
“Ah…”
First year of high school.
Jaehee had studied himself to death throughout middle school.
Back then, Jaehee had only wanted one thing.
To escape from that place—his grandmother’s house in the countryside.
For Jaehee, the countryside was a place where he’d been dumped without any say in the matter when his parents divorced. That place was a symbol of unhappiness for him.
Whenever his grandmother saw Jaehee, she would curse his mother and sniffle about how pitiful his father was. She’d go on and on about how men might meet other women when working outside, but his mother, who only kept house, was too ignorant of the ways of the world.
Jaehee could never say anything when his grandmother started up like that. He hated his father who had cheated, but he also resented his mother who hadn’t taken him with her.
What he hated most of all was his grandmother’s house. Being with his grandmother suffocated him, and all he thought about was getting away from there as soon as possible.
So he studied. If only he could leave that place, he was willing to go to any high school with dormitories.
But leaving his grandmother’s house happened in a way Jaehee had never expected. His father contacted him saying he’d remarried, so Jaehee should come to Seoul. Suddenly, without any discussion, just like when he’d first been sent to the countryside. Once again, Jaehee’s wishes didn’t matter at all. Leaving his smiling, happy grandmother behind, Jaehee returned to Seoul just like that.
In just a few years, Seoul had become unfamiliar to Jaehee. The house with his stepmother felt awkward, and his elementary school friends felt awkward too. And then, by chance, he saw Jeongwoo. The moment he first spotted him, Jaehee recognized him instantly. The guy who’d shone brightly even back in elementary school was now shining even more brilliantly.
While Jaehee himself was so miserable and gloomy, what made that guy so happy and content? Though overcome with petty jealousy, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from Jeongwoo. He couldn’t push away Jeongwoo when he approached with that bright face, clearly happy to see him again. Jaehee looked at the first-year high school student—himself—standing in front of him with a somber expression.
“You…”
“Yes?”
He seemed to know what needed to be said. But trying to put it into words made his insides twist with bitterness. He chewed on his lips several times before letting out a sigh.
“…You like Woo Jeongwoo, don’t you?”
First year of high school. He’d insisted back then that he disliked Jeongwoo, but deep down, he’d known his own true feelings.
The emotion that had started as jealousy had spread into admiration, and soon after, into affection.
At his question, the first-year high school Shin Jaehee looked flustered and began to crumble away.
He raised his head and looked around. The dolls of Shin Jaehee that had been endlessly appearing had stopped at some point.
What the tutorial wanted was obvious now.
This was a place to confront the aspects of himself that he’d been denying—his false selves.
Like dominoes falling, the standing Shin Jaehee dolls began crumbling one after another.
The quiet space filled with the sound of shattering glass: crash, crash, crash.
The countless dolls that he’d thought he could never possibly destroy all vanished in an instant.
All that remained on the ground were the fragments of the destroyed Shin Jaehees.
In the distance, he could see one last remaining figure.
Shin Jaehee slowly walked toward it.
Shin Jaehee frowned slightly as he saw it from afar. It resembled Shin Jaehee, but it wasn’t Shin Jaehee. He stared at it blankly.
Long, straight hair that reached down to the waist and a somewhat cold expression.
Suddenly, his head throbbed and his hands began to tremble.
[Beep, beep, caution! Caution! External interference is being attempted.]
When Jaehee felt a ringing in his ears and staggered, a warning sound suddenly blared out.
[This place is currently verifying the qualifications of the cultivator… warning, warning.]
Noisy warning sounds and flashing sirens appeared before his eyes. But it wasn’t a warning meant for him, and there was nothing he could do about it anyway.
Shin Jaehee rose unsteadily to his feet and looked at the last remaining Shin Jaehee.
It was not Shin Jaehee, yet at the same time, it was Shin Jaehee.
It was the moment when he felt their eyes meet.
[[Constellation, the blazing flame sends rest.]]
It was a different message from the system prompts he’d seen so far.
The instant Shin Jaehee saw that message, pitch-black darkness descended from above. The darkness itself came down from the sky and covered the ground as if it had become a massive veil. It felt like witnessing the end of the world, but rather than being frightening, it felt strangely comfortable.
—Rest. That is still far too early for you.
It was someone’s voice. It somehow felt familiar.
Suddenly, sleep overwhelmed him so powerfully that he couldn’t possibly remain standing. As his consciousness blurred, his legs gave out beneath him. When Shin Jaehee collapsed with a thud, someone caught the falling Shin Jaehee and lifted him up.
