Chapter 2
Are You… a Player?
“Something happen?”
“What?”
Inha flopped down on the workshop sofa, dragging a blanket up to her chin.
She looked pretty worn out, probably from the nonstop shoots.
“You just… seem a bit prickly today.”
“It’s nothing. Nothing you need to worry about.”
Nothing? …Of course something had happened.
But what was he supposed to say? Oh, I regressed, and I’m tired now? Not exactly something you could tell anyone.
Seyeon gave a self-deprecating smile as he pulled out some props and began carefully cleaning them.
Props custom-made for Inha—Seyeon’s handiwork.
For handcrafted props used in shoots, aftercare was essential. Especially since the model would strike all sorts of poses, often rough on the equipment, everything needed to be checked and maintained afterward.
He polished the Black Knight’s armor with gloss, then disassembled the elf’s staff to brush off dust.
And as for this lance…
Clack—!
He twisted the shaft clockwise, and a sword slid out from within the heavy lance blade.
It was the central gimmick of the prop, even used during today’s shoot.
“The lance was awesome. It fit perfectly in my hand.”
“Glad you liked it.”
Inha peeked her head out from behind the sofa.
“Especially when I stabbed the dragon’s eye, then pulled out the sword from the lance and stabbed the other eye with it!”
“Anyone overhearing would think you actually slayed a dragon.”
Excited, Inha mimed the motions as she continued.
“But it would’ve been better if the sword were shorter. In the middle of battle, a shorter blade would be way more practical…”
There she goes again.
Pointing out the practical flaws as if she were actually wielding the thing.
A model—and a setting nerd.
It was exactly the Inha Seyeon had come to know well.
Of course, it was always Seyeon’s job to suffer making props that satisfied her picky tastes.
After rambling for a while, Inha smiled and added belatedly,
“…Oh, but as usual, you did make it really well.”
“Sure, sure. No need for empty flattery.”
Seyeon brushed off her words playfully and hung the lance on the wall.
Then he looked around at the rest of the props.
Swords, spears, bows, helmets, shields—medieval weapons, alongside pocket watches, brooches, rings—ornamental accessories nearly like works of art.
Every piece was full of personality.
That was inevitable, since they had to reflect Inha’s exacting needs.
Thanks to that, it helped with artifact-making later.
Tools imbued with mysterious powers were generally called Artifacts.
One of the factors determining an artifact’s ability was the “Unique Myth” infused into the item through experience.
The experience of making props based on Inha’s imagination had, in truth, paved the way for Seyeon to become the greatest artifact craftsman of all.
Artifacts exhibited fantastical powers straight out of fiction.
Naturally, the Unique Myths underlying those powers were often absurd, like legends or fairy tales.
Now, they were nothing more than wild fantasies—but soon, a world would arrive where those very fantasies became real.
…Though it wasn’t all good.
A life of endlessly making and delivering artifacts—practically like a slave.
That was never the future Seyeon wanted.
But the apocalypse couldn’t be stopped.
So there was only one option.
I won’t let it happen again.
Clenching his lips, Seyeon made a firm vow.
“You’ve got that face again.”
“Huh?”
At some point, Inha had been staring straight at him.
“When you’re working or lost in thought, your brows always furrow like this. You’ve been doing it all day today.”
Really?
Seyeon rubbed between his brows, wondering if he really had that habit.
“It’s because of that director, isn’t it?”
“…What?”
The sudden comment made his thoughts grind to a halt.
Which director? Ah, Yoo Min-tae?
“I heard about it. That you fought with him? …Sorry, I couldn’t back you up.”
Looking dejected, Inha rested her chin on the sofa back and carefully added,
“…Should we cancel the rest of the shoot?”
“What? Why would we do that?”
“No need to force yourself if it makes you uncomfortable. We can always book another.”
Come on, it’s not that serious.
Not that he could reassure her with Don’t worry, I already put him in his place.
So he decided to brush it off.
“It’s fine. It’s not like I’ll ever see him again once the shoot’s over.”
“…”
“As long as he didn’t give you trouble, that’s enough for me.”
“Seyeon…”
Inha’s eyes welled with tears.
Feeling awkward, Seyeon turned his gaze aside.
He hadn’t meant much by the words, but she took everything to heart.
Besides, canceling would mean a huge penalty fee. No way.
And he’d already crushed the director’s spirit, so there was no more to worry about.
Maybe it was because of all the overthinking, but Seyeon suddenly realized he was hungry.
“Anyway, let’s eat. I’ll change and be right out.”
“…Okay.”
While Seyeon went into his room, Inha buried her face in the blanket as if to hide her expression.
“You’ve… changed somehow.”
She couldn’t put her finger on it, but she was certain.
“Man~ this bean sprout soup place is still the same.”
“We literally ate here the day before yesterday. Why are you acting like it’s been forever?”
“Ah… just hoping it stays this way.”
Seyeon quickly shifted his words, his eyes roaming fondly over the familiar sights.
The artisan workshop district, filled with potters, weavers, and craftsmen rarely found elsewhere.
And in front of their shops, the bustling market street that fed them all.
For Seyeon and Inha, who were born and raised here, it was like their own living room.
But even this…
Remembering what this place looked like after the apocalypse, Seyeon felt a pang in his chest.
Even this street, seemingly frozen in time, had collapsed helplessly before the catastrophe that overturned the world.
“Huh? Seyeon, why are you—”
VROOOM—!!!
Suddenly, a roaring engine drowned out Inha’s voice from behind.
On instinct, Seyeon pulled Inha out of the way.
A neon-yellow “Ferrarghini” skimmed past them before screeching to a halt.
…What the hell is that?
The door, completely out of place here, swung upward like wings. A man climbed out.
Oversized sleeveless shirt and shorts.
A gaudy gold chain glinting across his chest. Golden sunglasses flashing.
The strange-looking guy waved cheerfully.
“Chae Inha, right~? Didn’t expect to see you here.”
A friend of hers?
“Your buddy sure has a unique look, Inha.”
“…I’ve never seen him before.”
Inha tilted her head, clearly puzzled.
The man frowned.
“Don’t tell me you don’t recognize me.”
He yanked off his golden shades, revealing Egyptian-style tattoos around his eyes.
That tattoo…?
“…And you are?”
“Oh, come on! YouTube! TikTok! Insta! Do you live under a rock? How can you not know Yoo Taehoon?!”
Then Inha suddenly exclaimed, “Ah!”
“This guy’s Yoo Taehoon.”
“Friend of yours?”
“No, he’s that rapper—you know, the one who won Show Me the Dollar.”
“…Was there even a show like that?”
Seyeon vaguely remembered glimpsing it on TV while working.
But what does that have to do with us?
Inha was only just stepping out of rookie model status. It wasn’t like she had ties to celebs.
So he approached her out of nowhere, huh?
Obvious what his intentions were.
Suppressing his disgust, Seyeon wrapped an arm around Inha’s shoulder and started walking.
“Let’s go, Inha.”
“Huh? But…”
She looked uncertain, glancing between them, but Seyeon ignored it and walked past Taehoon.
“Hah. Funny guy.”
Laughed off, Taehoon scoffed.
“You ignoring me right now?”
“…”
“F***, you can’t just walk away! We’re not done here!”
He reached toward Inha.
Seyeon yanked her wrist back, stepping between them.
“Excuse me, what do you think you’re doing?”
“And who the hell are you? Move it. And you, Chae Inha—you ignore my calls and think you can just brush me off like this?”
Seyeon glanced at Inha.
“He contacted you?”
“There were a few messages, but…”
She showed him her DMs on Instagram.
There were some trivial exchanges, mixed with business talk.
But the conversation had ended politely with, I’ll look forward to a better opportunity in the future.
That wasn’t ghosting at all.
“Stop acting all high and mighty. I can make you even bigger. Just be in my music video and—”
Blabbering to himself, drunk on his own hype.
“Think it over. I’ll let it slide this time. And you—don’t butt in unless you want to get humiliated.”
Taehoon jabbed Seyeon’s shoulder.
A blatant provocation.
Not worth responding to.
All Seyeon needed was to get through this moment.
But then—
This feeling…!
The instant his shoulder tingled with that crawling sensation, Seyeon’s eyes widened.
He twisted Taehoon’s wrist, grabbed his collar, and slammed him to the ground.
“Argh—what the hell…!!!”
Taehoon groaned in pain, bewildered.
Seyeon leaned close, eyes cold, and whispered,
“You… are you a Player?”
“…”
Taehoon’s face froze.
That was a sensation only Players gave off.
Ha Il-hwan had once called it the weight of an Awakened.
The gravitational force of stellar energy distorts the opponent’s senses.
And Seyeon, who’d faced countless Players, couldn’t possibly mistake it.
Players had used that aura to dominate ordinary people.
“W-what are you talking about? I’m—”
“Shut up. That stench you people give off makes me sick.”
“Ghk—!”
Before the apocalypse, they’d hidden their identities well. He hadn’t expected to run into one so soon.
But now that he had—it was actually a good thing.
At this point in time, Players weren’t much stronger than normal humans.
Yeah. I can kill him…
Seyeon’s grip tightened.
With the strength he’d honed hammering steel, it would be easy.
“S-Seyeon…?”
That snapped him back.
He turned his head to see Inha trembling in fear.
…What the hell am I doing, in front of her?
His reason returned, and he forced himself calm.
Never mind acting rashly—this was not something to do in front of Inha.
He’d look like nothing but a psycho trying to kill someone over an argument.
“Keuhk—!”
When Seyeon let go, Taehoon collapsed limply.
“Get lost. Unless you want it worse.”
“…F***. Just you wait!”
Cursing, Taehoon stormed off as loudly as he’d arrived.
That should do it.
For a Player like Taehoon, being exposed was dangerous.
With just that threat, he wouldn’t dare approach again so easily.
Tap—
Seyeon felt warmth in his hand and glanced over.
Inha was holding his hand with both of hers.
“Inha.”
“Let’s go back. You’ve got to prep for the next shoot.”
She smiled brightly, forcing herself.
No doubt she had a million questions, but she was pretending not to.
“…Thanks.”
“…?”
Puzzled, Inha tilted her head.
Seyeon just gave a faint smile and walked on ahead.
