Chapter 72
“Master?”
“Yes, master.”
Something resembling Garisto raised a finger and pointed.
Who was this being that called itself my master?
There was no need to ponder too deeply.
“Is this a newly emerged consciousness in the training room?”
“That sounds a little weird when you put it that way.”
This time, it pointed at itself with its finger, standing confidently with its thumb indicating itself.
“You’re right. I’m the one who made you this strong.”
“….”
“I expected as much, but your reaction is really boring.”
It shook its head with a dismissive expression, clearly unimpressed.
Seeing a consciousness manifest directly before him was more than enough.
But for Juhyuk, there was something even more important than that.
“Why did you bring me here?”
This was the training room, and he had brought me in without asking if I was okay.
Until now, the master only ever entered the room when they wanted to.
This time, he had summoned me without any interaction.
That could be seen as a serious threat.
The consciousness before him was starting to get on Juhyuk’s nerves.
“I specifically said we should meet again. I really went to Garisto to see you, so I called you here.”
“That’s not the important part.”
“Right~ That’s all in the past. I knew it would turn out this way anyway.”
The consciousness slowly walked over and sat in a chair.
When did a chair even exist here?
The empty white space had nothing, yet the moment he sat, a chair appeared.
A desk, too—just enough for two people to sit and have a meal.
The consciousness gestured to the empty seat across from it.
“Why don’t we sit and talk?”
“…Alright.”
There was no point in aggravating him.
Juhyuk decided to cooperate for now.
He sat in the newly appeared chair and faced the being that looked increasingly like Garisto.
“We have a problem, don’t we?”
“What is it?”
“That you, the master, are trying to separate me.”
The consciousness stated it without hesitation.
Conflict between them: the master wanted to remove it.
Bringing up that issue suggested it viewed Juhyuk’s attempt negatively.
Juhyuk listened quietly.
“Why does the master want to separate me?”
“Because my body might explode.”
“Hahaha… really?”
The consciousness laughed, but Juhyuk calmly rebutted.
“We’ve been together for a year now, and you’ve shown stability.”
“How can you guarantee that’ll last forever?”
“What if I could guarantee it?”
“Hard to believe.”
Juhyuk lifted his head and spoke.
The face resembling Garisto grinned.
He continued with an expressionless face:
“I didn’t like being dragged into this space without any conversation.”
“…You didn’t like that?”
The being seemed to calm slightly as it sensed Juhyuk’s displeasure.
“I thought I appeared at just the right moment.”
“You can’t expect anyone to like being dragged into the training room without warning.”
“Hmm.”
After a few seconds of thought, it lowered its head.
It briefly showed the back of its head, then stood up.
“I apologize.”
An apology.
Was it sincere, or just a means to smooth things over?
Regardless, that single word did little to ease his guard.
“I’ll decide whether to accept it based on our upcoming conversation.”
“Then let’s get back to the point.”
He lifted his head and smiled brightly.
Seeing it smile like this, Juhyuk realized that the being’s face was quite handsome, not just the mischievous expressions it usually wore.
“You got stronger through me, right?”
“Right. Thanks to you, I became stronger and made it this far.”
“So what if I’m gone? How do you plan to get stronger then?”
The training room asked.
Juhyuk, a simple-minded person, could hardly become stronger without the training room.
“Before meeting me, your magic was as weak as an ant’s. You barely had any.”
“You became stronger after meeting me. You have to rely on me to continue getting stronger.”
The training room phrased it carefully:
“Even if you could separate me successfully, it would be hard to grow stronger without me.”
“Really?”
“Of course. Don’t you realize your life changed after meeting me? You should be begging me to stay with you.”
Its confident tone wasn’t wrong.
Without the training room, Juhyuk would never have grown this strong so quickly.
In that sense, the training room deserved gratitude.
Yet Juhyuk’s attempt to separate it was, in a way, the wrong move.
“My opinion’s a little different.”
“Different?”
Juhyuk responded:
“Could you find another master besides me?”
Was it only Juhyuk who needed the training room?
Sure, he would miss it if it weren’t there.
But what if Juhyuk disappeared?
“Could you find another human who could withstand a million unbearable experiences without losing their mind?”
Garisto had called the training room a failed artifact.
[If it enters the wrong master, it fights endlessly until its mind breaks, and the artifact is destroyed.]
Meeting the wrong master damages the artifact as well.
In short:
“There’s no one else, right?”
The training room could serve no master but Juhyuk.
“….”
It had hit the core truth.
The consciousness stared at Juhyuk silently.
The cheerful expression vanished, replaced by calm seriousness.
Its previous attempts at dominance had backfired.
Juhyuk pulled his chair closer, narrowing the distance.
“Think carefully. Who your master is.”
“…Hmph.”
It pouted like a child whose tantrum didn’t work, turning its head.
Then it swung its legs back and forth, adding rhythm to its words:
“Oh, I see~ So this is the master~”
After moving its head briefly, it gave up, saying:
“Alright. Everything the master says is~ right.”
It then looked up to meet Juhyuk’s eyes:
“But since you said it, master knows too, right?”
“Knows what?”
“Why I don’t want to leave you.”
Without Juhyuk, it would be nearly impossible to live attached to someone.
The training room desperately clung to him.
“No one else can stay with me.”
“Right, I know.”
Juhyuk had firmly seized control.
Here, he solidified their relationship.
“So, we have a mutually beneficial relationship.”
“Mutually beneficial?”
“Think of it as a relationship where we help each other.”
“I see.”
The consciousness nodded.
Then it added quietly:
“The master becomes strong through me… and I stay by the master’s side eating magic stones!”
“Exactly.”
The training room desired magic stones—an artifact with desire.
That desire didn’t pose a problem in their relationship.
Setting that aside, the most important matter remained.
“Hey.”
“Yes, master.”
The consciousness looked at him with bright, keen eyes.
Juhyuk stared back and asked:
“Are you sure you won’t explode?”
One of his biggest questions about its consciousness.
Could the artifact control itself to prevent its host from exploding in the future?
This was the key issue.
If not, he wouldn’t cooperate with the training room.
The consciousness answered without hesitation:
“Of course! As long as the master doesn’t take mental damage, it’s fine.”
“So it depends on my condition?”
“Exactly. I’m currently parasitizing your body.”
It shook its head as it spoke:
“All my power went into reducing physical damage, so I’m completely immune in that area.”
“…So that’s why it would break if mental damage occurs.”
Its abilities were unbalanced, but perfectly complemented Juhyuk, who was immune to mental damage.
“Anyway~ don’t worry about exploding.”
It dismissed any concerns confidently.
There was no reason to doubt its claim.
‘If it had wanted to explode for another reason, it would have happened within a year.’
Furthermore, if it accidentally exploded, the artifact would vanish with its host.
If there was a risk of explosion, it would leave the body and continue safely.
No reason for lies.
“Then I have no intention of separating you either.”
“Really?”
“As long as you hide well, it’s fine. Even if exposed, you’re not weak enough to be easily pushed around.”
Juhyuk said this, happily patting its face.
“All thanks to you.”
“Mmm~ you notice me.”
The consciousness seemed pleased, like a dog encountering a friendly stranger.
“So, you won’t be separated?”
“Just promise one thing.”
The last condition to prevent separation.
Juhyuk emphasized it, recalling what had just happened:
“Never drag me here without asking my opinion again.”
“Okay, I will.”
“Good. Thanks for listening.”
As he patted it, the gesture felt almost addictive.
Though it felt good, there was no time to linger.
“Then send me back to where I was.”
“Okay! Got it.”
It raised a hand, covering its eyes.
Juhyuk’s vision went dark, and the sensation of sitting in the chair faded.
When that familiar yet strange sensation passed and he opened his eyes, the world had changed.
“Oh, you’re back?”
The same familiar face greeted him.
