HACKED 11

But I had confirmed there was no one there, including the path I’d passed, the corners of the corridors, and the stairs, so how?

Once again, a small sound was heard. I know now what that sound is. It is the sound of a bowstring being released, the sound of an arrow leaving the string, and…

“Ugh!”

The sound of someone aiming for my life.

I sat down as if collapsing. If I hadn’t, a wind hole would have been punched right through the center of my neck in an instant. About half a span away from my neck, an arrow embedded in the elevator door flaunted its majesty, its fletching trembling with a flutter.

From a modern military science perspective, a bow is by no means a weapon suitable for sniping.

It’s an obvious story. Compared to a sniper rifle, its range is absurdly short, its portability and convenience are extremely low, it is heavily affected by weather or wind, and it flies in a parabolic arc.

Yes, arrows curve.

That is the bow’s greatest disadvantage, yet a masterpiece for someone else. If it were a very experienced and outstanding… archer close to a divine archer, they would be able to bend the trajectory of the arrow as they pleased to snipe an enemy out of their line of sight.

And in my main deck—to use in-game terminology, my main force—there is an Incarnation who fits those conditions perfectly.

‘<Half-Human, Half-Ghost Hwarang>…’

A sniper-specialized ranged dealer who uses a bow as his primary weapon. For the record, he’s also a 4-star.

Hwarang, Half-Human, Half-Ghost. There is likely only one person in history where these two terms overlap. Nevertheless, there is a reason for using a vague modifier instead of mentioning his real name.

Because the characters in <No Lifer> are ‘Incarnations.’

So, simply put, that Incarnation bears the name Hwarang, but he is not the actual Hwarang. He is a collection of records, rumors, and folklore passed down about the Hwarang… something like that.

A being materialized from the accumulation of the abstract concept of a ‘story.’ In short, he is neither human nor a living creature.

That’s the setting within the game; metagaming-wise, they’re probably glossing over it because pointing out a specific real-life figure could lead to various troubles. They even put in a fiction disclaimer like, ‘All characters, names, groups, and events appearing in this game are fictions and are entirely unrelated to reality,’ on the start screen.

So… why is a Hwarang, who lives and dies by loyalty and has ‘Discrimination in Killing’ boldly included in the Five Commandments of Secular Life, trying to kill me without warning?

Why else? It’s because he’s gone out of his mind.

Are you watching, <No Lifer> users around the world? Please keep this in mind. This is how scary a Corruption Level of 100 is. If you ever hit 100, I recommend a quick account deletion before you end up like me.

‘Focus… Get it together.’

Perhaps because I’ve lost too much blood, my judgment keeps getting clouded. This isn’t the time to be talking such nonsense.

I rolled my tongue for a moment to feel the inside of my cheek. Fortunately, I felt the flesh properly with the tip of my tongue, so it seemed the arrow that grazed my face hadn’t poked a hole in the skin. Though it hurt terribly.

Light powder keeps leaking out of Chirpy, who collapsed after being hit by an arrow and lost consciousness.

How do I treat a mascot who isn’t even an Incarnation? Is treatment even possible? If I successfully log out like this and return to the original world, what happens to this fellow?

I felt helpless in many ways, but I picked him up and tucked him under one arm for now. Regardless, I couldn’t leave him here.

I intentionally did not pull out the arrow stuck in his wing. Whether it’s a blade or an arrow, it’s common sense that pulling out something embedded recklessly can make the injury worse.

First, I had to get out of here before the next arrow flew. But how?

I am exposed to the opponent’s sniping range, and conversely, I can’t even estimate where the opponent is hiding. Whether it’s the stairs or the corridor, moving rashly might only result in making it easier for them to snipe me.

I glanced at the panel.

Power system activation progress… 8%

Damn power system. The numbers had stopped at the moment I took my hand off. If I rely on something like that, I’m going to die. No, even if I don’t rely on it, I’m going to die…

Just as the last hope was about to vanish, I heard a whisper.

“Now.”

“Run.”

It was a child’s voice. A high, clear tone of an unknown gender that hadn’t even reached puberty yet. The voices were so identical that it was ambiguous whether one person said it twice or two people said one phrase each.

However, as soon as the words ended, a pair of small figures dashed out in front of me. Following that, the sound of a sword being drawn was heard with a clack.

Swish!

Blades were swung at a speed that could barely be seen. An arrow flying from somewhere was cut in two and fell to the floor with a thud.

Even while my vision was flickering, this scene was clearly engraved in my sight. Long swords nearly 2 meters long, which an ordinary person wouldn’t even be able to lift—not just one, but two… An unrealistic sight of flashing blades filling the corridor.

“Master, are you hurt?”

“Does it hurt?”

“Does it hurt a lot?”

“We will block it.”

“Those who seek to die shall live.”

“Those who seek to live shall die.”

“Go upstairs.”

“Go quickly.”

“Right now.”

“Don’t look back.”

I was completely disoriented by the identical voices coming from both sides. But my body moved faithfully according to survival instinct.

I know those kids—no, those Incarnations. The <Twin Greatswords of National Salvation>. They are the incarnations of swords that consist of two blades as a pair.

Holding the limp Chirpy in one arm, I headed for the stairs. Just as those voices said, I never looked back.

˙✧˖°🎮 ⋆｡˚

By the time I tasted blood in my throat, a sign finally appeared before my eyes.

[10F]

[→ Central Command Room]

I didn’t delay any further. Without looking away, I walked straight toward the door in front of me.

The door had no handle, no lock, and no keypad. If not for the rectangular crack, it was a smooth surface that would have made it hard to tell if it was a door or a wall.

But there was a panel next to the door. It was a square shape similar to the panel in front of the elevator earlier.

It was fortunate that I had operated the elevator panel, even if only for a short time. If I had just passed it by, I would have thought this was just a black board too. And I would have been frustrated, wandering around not knowing how to open the door.

Without hesitation, I placed my hand on the panel.

I only realized now that my hands were covered in blood, a mess to the point where the original skin color couldn’t be recognized. Freshly flowed blood and somewhat dried blood were mixed together, feeling unpleasantly sticky.

[To remember is to win.]

Welcome, Compiler Mr. This is the Central Command Room.

Yeah, I get it. I get it, so open the door quickly. So I can go in, bring up the status window or information window or whatever, and log out.

Do you want to unlock the Central Command Room entrance?

[Yes / No]

Earlier, it just slammed the system activation without even asking, and now it’s asking all sorts of things.

Without taking my palm off the panel, I moved only my index finger to touch ‘Yes.’

Unlocking the Central Command Room entrance. Are you sure?

[Yes / No]

‘Yes.’

Are you really sure?

[Yes / No]

The same question was output repeatedly, with only the sentence structure slightly modified.

At that moment, I felt a strange premonition. Like the feeling just before you try to force open a very old airtight container you found late in the corner of the refrigerator, only to find it tightly sealed… A premonition that was by no means good.

…‘Yes.’

But as always, one ends up ignoring negative premonitions. And as always, negative premonitions are never wrong.

Whir…

The doors parted to both sides and slid open. To avoid any pursuer who might have followed me, I mindlessly stepped inside.

And immediately, I stopped breathing. Instinct sent a warning. It felt as if I had inadvertently stepped into the scene of a truly horrific disaster.

It’s red—no, it’s black. It must have been red once, but now it’s black. Something black and rotten was messily smeared all over the walls and floor that should have been pure white.

In the middle of that dark red mess, two people… well, I don’t know. Two things presumed to have once been people were seen.

One of them had a body lying in a relatively intact form, but the head part was horrific. The skull was completely crushed. The places where features would have once been attached were all mashed, and fragments were scattered everywhere. It was as if a giant beast had taken the head whole into its mouth, chewed it into a pulp, and spat it out.

The contents that would have been inside that skull were all discolored black, perhaps because they were covered in black liquid or because they had rotted, so they weren’t clearly visible. It was rather a relief. If things like flesh and brain fluid had been clearly visible, it would have upgraded from its current state—which was already enough of an R-rated horror—to a snuff film…

“Gasp…!”

I exhaled the breath I had been holding and reflexively inhaled again. I regretted it immediately after. A terrible stench that I hadn’t noticed because I wasn’t breathing earlier hit me. Is this what it would smell like if you left a lump of raw meat at room temperature for several months?

“…Ugh.”

My stomach turned. I didn’t even have the leeway to check the other corpse. I didn’t want to be here for a single moment longer.

I forced my trembling legs to steady themselves. One or two steps, just one or two steps back would do. Then I would be able to go back out through the door I came in.

However…

Thump!

The sound of my shoe sole hitting a metal door rang out. My body swayed from the unexpected impact.

Moving my stiff neck, I looked back. The door had closed at some point. Right behind me.