Chapter 76

Chapter 76

『’Lee Suhyuk’ has ended the stream.』

The familiar message appeared on screen. Shiwoo and Yerang, watching the stream together, were left baffled. They had been just as curious as the other viewers, only for the stream to end abruptly.

“What the hell...”

Yerang clicked her tongue in disappointment and glanced at Shiwoo to gauge his reaction. Although he hadn’t been angry earlier, she still had to be wary of Shiwoo’s mood.

Fortunately, Shiwoo seemed more preoccupied than upset, staring at the now-ended stream with a peculiar expression.

“Always something that sets him apart, isn’t it?”

He often mumbled to himself, though not all of his mutterings were meant solely for himself. This one was clearly for Yerang to hear.

“What’s different?”

“Suhyuk.”

Throughout the stream, Shiwoo had been thinking about Suhyuk.

“If it were him, he would never have broadcasted in the first place.”

Yerang nodded at his response.

“Right, that definitely makes sense.”

“But if someone threatened him that he had to stream or else...”

“Who?”

“I mean, hypothetically.”

Shiwoo’s interruption made Yerang sigh as she continued.

“Anyway, if someone forced him into a scenario where he had no choice but to stream, maybe he would’ve acted the same.”

“A situation where he absolutely had to stream...”

No matter how hard he thought, Shiwoo couldn’t come up with such a scenario. Furrowing his brow in deep thought, Shiwoo asked.

“What about you?”

“What?”

“You’ve seen him in person.”

Yerang recalled seeing Lee Suhyuk. Through the stream screens, the big monitors at the tournament, and even from a distance, she had observed him.

And the feeling remained the same—

“He was similar.”

They resembled each other. The Suhyuk she knew.

“But they’re not the same person.”

Her firm statement took Shiwoo by surprise.

“Do you think I don’t know you? You were wondering, weren’t you? If this could be him.”

“Well...”

“Do you think I didn’t consider it too? But it’s not him.”

Yerang was certain. Undoubtedly, she had thought about it more than he had. Whether they could be the same person.

However.

“For him to be that guy, two conditions would have to be met.”

The more she thought about it, the less likely it seemed.

“First, he’d have to have been reincarnated. Otherwise, there’s no way he could have gone back to the first floor to start the trials over.”

That was true. And it was the biggest reason why Shiwoo and Yerang didn’t believe Suhyuk to be the same person they knew.

A player who had ascended the tower could not take the lower floor trials again.

And the second reason—

“The second is what we already talked about.”

“The situation where someone has to stream?”

“Yes.”

Those two reasons were precisely why Yerang was certain he was not the same person.

“The likelihood of a reincarnated Suhyuk having someone holding a knife to his throat, forcing him to stream... How likely could that be?”

***

In a castle located on the fifth floor, a visitor had arrived. His name was Cheon Ryang. One of the countless players scattered like pebbles throughout the vast Murim World.

Step, step—

However, today, Cheon Ryang was walking along a long red silk path, marching towards the center of the castle. Flanked on both sides by intimidating guards.

Glancing to his sides—

“Since when did you know we were working for Balhae?”

He had suspected Un Cheon-guk might already know. The fact that Un Hyang had sent him here indicated that Un Cheon-guk had found her again.

But from Un Cheon-guk’s words, it seemed it hadn’t been a recent discovery.

“Well, is that really important?”

“It might not be significant to you, but—”

Cheon Ryang clamped his mouth shut mid-sentence. Un Cheon-guk was smiling. Provoking him further wouldn’t end well.

Despite asking him to call him ‘uncle’, he was still the second-in-command of ‘Murim’, one of the dominant forces in this vast world.

“Let’s discuss something else.”

As Cheon Ryang stopped speaking, Un Cheon-guk naturally changed the topic.

“Since changing kits, I couldn’t get in touch with Un Hyang. The same with you.”

“... Yes, there was a new release.”

“Is that so? I suppose. You two have always been close, so it makes sense you’d change together.”

Accepting the implausible excuse, Un Cheon-guk asked, “So, did you bring Un Hyang’s answer?”

The reason Cheon Ryang was granted such grand treatment upon entering the castle—

The reason he could have a private audience with Un Cheon-guk—

“Yes, I brought her answer.”

It was precisely because of this.

“Really? What is it?”

“Her answer is...”

Taking a deep breath, Cheon Ryang spoke,

“She declines.”

“...I see.”

Goong—

The hall slightly trembled. According to Un Cheon-guk’s emotion, the golden walls and floor began to crack faintly.

And observing this, Cheon Ryang idly thought, ‘The repair guys are going to have a hard time.’

He knew very well that Un Cheon-guk would react this way. He knew the extent of his power.

“Decline, huh... Decline...”

Un Cheon-guk kept muttering the same word repeatedly. A habit for when something didn’t sit well with him. After a moment of muttering, he asked, “Do you know what question this answer pertains to?”

“I do not.”

“You don’t? Yet you came anyway?”

“Yes.”

Cheon Ryang nodded, providing a plausible context for this outrageous answer.

“Because we’re friends. Inseparable.”

Cheon Ryang truly didn’t know. If it had been something he needed to know, Un Hyang would have told him when sending him here.

But she didn’t.

All she said was—

“All you need to convey is my answer: no.”

She sent him off with just that single line. So he hadn’t asked. Because it seemed like she didn’t want to talk about it.

“...I see. You were, after all.”

Un Cheon-guk’s expression shifted subtly. It was hard to tell if he was displeased or perhaps somewhat pleased.

As his rapidly changing expressions continued to flicker, Cheon Ryang sensed that his own fate would be determined by whichever expression he settled on.

After what felt like an eternity—

“It seems...”

Un Cheon-guk spoke again.

“You are that person’s envoy after all.”

A peculiar conclusion. And with that conclusion, Cheon Ryang instinctively knew that a difficult situation was about to get even harder.

“Excuse me? No, I just lost a bet, and—”

“Then relay this.”

Un Cheon-guk didn’t acknowledge the explanation about the bet. Cheon Ryang sighed. It was no use. Un Cheon-guk had no intention of listening to what he had to say.

Ultimately, Cheon Ryang had no choice but to stand and listen to what Un Cheon-guk had to say.

“If she continues to act on her own, I won’t just stand by and watch the place you’re involved with.”