HACKED 57

Moving into a section that was once another Compiler’s Pantheon required no coordinates or gates. Perhaps because it had already merged into the same dimension, I could simply cross over just by opening a single door.

And so, here I am now, in a library so vast it cannot be taken in at a single glance. I am standing in the lobby of that library.

The building was basically modern European in style. It featured high ceilings, wooden staircases, and windows with frames and bars engraved with delicate patterns. And everywhere I looked, it was filled with bookshelves much taller than a person’s height.

There were also fantasy elements mixed in here and there: glowing crystal balls, wooden signboards floating in the air, and such. If this were an RPG, this map would probably be given a name like “Mystical Library” or “The Archmage’s Archive.”

That “IsItPresbyopiaCrap” guy—I felt it when I saw how he dressed, but he is truly dedicated to his concept.

“Myeong! Myeong! Look at that crystal ball over there. It is glowing on its own even in the dark! It seems they infused part of the power into the ball to use it as lighting instead of lamps.”

An excited Chirpy flew around, flapping his wings vigorously.

“Mm, I see.”

“This is my first time visiting another Pantheon. So this is what it looks like. It is so fascinating!”

“Is it? It is my first time, too.”

“It is completely different from our place from one to ten. There are so many decorations… and over there, even—even! There is a flower bed! The flowers are so colorful. Ah, this scent… The person who decorated this place seems to have had great taste.”

That was true. They had worked so hard on “Pan-Decorating” that there wasn’t a single empty spot in the interior. It contrasted in many ways with my Pantheon, which looked almost like an abandoned hospital because the walls and hallways were all white and desolate.

For reference, even when playing games of the “village-building” variety, I was the type who didn’t care at all about aesthetics or landscaping. I calculated the efficiency per unit area and only erected production facilities side-by-side. While other users boasted by uploading screenshots of their charming, prettily decorated villages, my village was reminiscent of a factory district in London during the Industrial Revolution.

In other villages, NPCs would run around freely, but in my village, they were jammed into slots with facilities on all sides, repeating production like mad. Somehow, it felt like I could read messages like “Kill… me…” from their sparkling eyes, but I ignored it.

What was it like when I played theme park simulation games? I would connect the exit of a ride directly to its entrance and then block the path out, making the guests ride that same attraction repeatedly until they died from exhausting all their stamina and money. Still, since having corpses lying openly on the map would hinder management, I dug a hole in a corner of the map and piled up thousands of bodies there… and so forth.

“Sorry my taste is non-existent.”

“Gasp! No, it is absolutely not that Myeong is lacking or anything like that. Absolutely not! The only Compiler I serve, then and now, is only you, Myeong. Myeong, please do not misunderstand… please, my sincerity…”

It feels like a sparrow is pestering me right in front of my eyes. Moreover, that sparrow talks incessantly in human speech. To be honest, it was distracting. However, I left him be since he looked happy for a change.

While Chirpy was just giddy over the new scenery, I could not be. After all, the Compiler who was so diligent in tending to his home base, and the numerous Incarnations attached to him—they are all dead now. Even if I open this door and go inside, there will be no one there.

Even if we consider it his own karma that he threw all his Incarnations into the fray and was wiped out, why did that man die? I still do not know. Why did a “Dimensional Crack” occur as soon as he entered the coordinates he had guaranteed would lead to the Narrative Compilation Union Headquarters? Why was his head severed and why did he die the moment he touched the crack?

The fact that only one strange, giant monster—not the monsters I was familiar with from “Abandoned Michuhol-gu Neural Network Transplant Research Building Area C-113″—had crossed over into my Pantheon, and the fact that a crack suddenly appeared behind that monster’s back. How are those things related to this?

No matter how much I rack my brain, the answer does not come. It feels like the puzzle pieces are gathering one by one, but none of the pieces fit together.

If my intuition is correct… the problem wasn’t entering the headquarters’ coordinates in the “Hyperdimensional Gate” menu. No matter what coordinates were entered, the crack would have appeared just the same.

Maybe the one whose head got severed could have been me, not <IsItPresbyopiaCrap>. What if I had pressed the gate menu out of curiosity while operating the terminal? What if I had tried entering any random coordinates as a test and encountered the crack?

It’s okay to shove enemies into my home base while calling it “Dimensional Merging” or whatever, but I’m not allowed to attempt communication from my side?

If this continues, the conclusion is that I must remain isolated and anxious over sudden events. It means I have to endure the life-threatening danger that might never end, all while receiving one-sided system notifications and suffering one-sided invasions.

“What kind of ‘Luck-based God-tier game’ is this. Satan would probably shake his head and walk away because the balance patch is so shitty.”

With this, red lines were drawn through several items on my “List of Escape Methods” in my head. Asking other users for help, nope. Attempting to contact the Narrative Compilation Union Headquarters or Customer Service—anyway, the management team—nope.

The only choice left now is logging out, but… there is a very big problem.

Please select a management menu. ▷ Command and Control … ▷ Settings

It is not there.

You have selected ‘Settings.’ Please select a sub-menu. ▷ Change Profile ▷ Notifications ▷ Messages … ▷ Display Theme and Font

The logout option, no matter how much I look for it, is not there.

This was the first thing I did as soon as the battle ended and I could catch my breath. Searching the terminal menus while avoiding the eyes of the other Incarnations.

I searched hundreds of times while pretending to check the resource status or pretending to order repairs for the recovery room. I even went as far as clicking every single option one by one to see if it was hidden in another menu.

Since the dimensional merging, I have rarely been alone. Because everyone took turns volunteering to be my escort, someone was always by my side. It was extremely difficult to operate the terminal while avoiding those persistent gazes that were watching me every moment while pretending they weren’t. I will just say it was exactly 100 times harder than keeping an internet window open in a corner of the monitor to surf the web while avoiding the eyes of a boss.

Despite such bloody efforts, I could not find it. Not to mention “Logout,” there wasn’t a single similar option like “Exit,” “Finish,” “Quit,” “Return to Start Screen,” and so on.

It is not that the concept of logging out does not exist in this world at all. I have already verified that.

When I first met Chirpy, he replied like this to my comment about wanting to log out:

“Ah, you mean visiting another dimension for a while.”

San Gun and Hwarang also reacted sharply the moment I mentioned logging out. In San Gun’s case… it went beyond being sharp; he actually pulled out his sharp claws and pierced through me in a single blow. That guy clearly thinks of my body as some kind of tanghulu ingredient. Well, anyway.

Moreover, <Nameless Star> drove the final nail in.

“We are different from the uncivilized things who do not even know exactly what ‘Logout’ is.”

My deduction is this: The concept of logging out definitely exists in this world. However, the option just isn’t visible to me. Then what is the reason?

First. It is impossible via the terminal and another means must be used. For example… the Central Command Room panel.

It is a fairly plausible hypothesis. In the first place, the terminal is like a portable mini-version of the main panel. It would be understandable if important functions were accessible only through the panel and not the terminal.

Second. Logging out is currently practically impossible.

This is also quite highly probable. Since this Pantheon is currently in a state where communication with the outside is cut off. If we assume that because the Pantheon-Headquarters connection is impossible, the Pantheon-Original World connection is also blocked… it is not total nonsense.

If this hypothesis is correct, then I, Chirpy, and the Incarnations have all been majorly screwed. It would mean we were raising our voices at each other, causing a bloody incident, and exchanging significant words over something that was impossible from the start.

Third. Logging out is in a possible state, and it can be done sufficiently through the terminal, but someone or something is blocking it.

This is the worst-case scenario. If the third one is the truth…. Well. I do not want to think about it further.

However, it is not that there were no gains at all. What I found after rummaging through the terminal over and over again was….

Key Fragment of the Door Leading to Reality (1) — Usable only when all fragments are collected; upon use, immediately 64+M7JWE6rCA6rOgIOyLtuyWtD8=

An item I don’t even know when it entered my inventory. The name itself is very suspicious, and the description is even more suspicious. Looking through the notification history, it seems I acquired it immediately after the last battle ended.

I have never picked up this item. I do not even have it. Yet on the system, it says it is there. Is it a simple error? Or….

Chirpy’s highly excited voice woke me from my ruminations.

“Myeong, shall we head inside now?”