Chapter 7
Misconception
“Everything okay?”
“The Adams Foundation said they’ll help us! I still can’t believe it even after signing!”
Inha sounded unusually excited for him.
It was practically a miracle that Sehyun managed to hide his expression in front of them.
Well, from an ordinary person’s point of view it was only a famous charity organization, so that reaction made sense.
‘The Foundation… it’s been a while.’
When Sehyun had heard that name during his earlier phone call with Inha, he couldn’t help but be surprised.
The Adams Foundation.
They were one of the most powerful groups in the player community.
Not only during the Apocalypse — even now, they were huge.
They didn’t just hide their identities; they actively infiltrated many areas of society and formed a formidable player group.
On top of that, they had massive funding — they practically styled themselves as the players’ “government.”
They were already like that when players were still living in hiding; after the Apocalypse, it only got worse.
They demanded all sorts of privileges from people under the pretext of “protection money,” and grew even faster.
‘In short, those guys are the main culprits behind that absurd rule of theirs.’
Sehyun gritted his teeth.
“So they’ll help? Compensation?”
“Not just compensation for damages — they said they’d give us official sponsorship. I don’t think we’ll have to rush filming for money anymore. Lucky, right?”
“Official sponsorship?”
Sehyun clicked his tongue and scratched his head.
A one-time payout plus a promise of long-term support.
Anyone would be tempted by such an offer.
But it was obvious their intentions weren’t pure.
‘They want to keep us nearby and keep an eye on us — crafty bastards.’
He’d tried to let the hint slip by lightly, but with an organization this big it wouldn’t go the way they intended.
“So what do we have to do?”
“Huh?”
“You’re not going to sponsor us for nothing, right?”
Inha raised the corner of his eye as if wondering how she’d guessed, then told them the details.
The summary was simple.
They wanted them to appear in an advertisement shoot run by the Foundation.
Of course they’d pay, and they’d let them use a Foundation-owned studio until the workshop was restored.
Under those conditions, refusing would almost be strange.
‘They probably made an offer that leaves no room to say no.’
So there was no need to reject it.
If handled well, it could even be a means for them to monitor the Foundation.
‘I’ve come back, but I barely have any information from before the Apocalypse.’
He only had bits and pieces of what happened afterward and was making educated guesses.
Turning this into a way to find out their movements wasn’t a bad idea.
‘If they want to use me, I’ll use them thoroughly.’
The Foundation was an organization that moved faster than anyone after the Apocalypse.
They could pick up on any sign through them.
‘For now, play along. Until I’m strong enough.’
Sehyun clenched the soul stones in his pocket.
He started turning over in his head how best to use this opportunity.
Two weeks had already passed since that incident.
Click, click—!!
“Oooh.”
Rachel let out an exclamation at the sight before her.
Under an apple tree as tall as the two of them, a woman stood.
Inha, dressed in a pure white saint’s robe, leaned in and kissed an apple.
Standing under lights meant to create a halo, she was backlit so the fruits on the apple tree shone brilliantly.
Kale opened his mouth in admiration.
“Wow. This isn’t something you should only see in photos, senior.”
Normally Rachel would scold him for getting worked up, but this time she agreed with his reaction.
Inha’s presence on set was that striking.
‘No wonder she’s famous. She understands the Adams Foundation’s slogan perfectly.’
The sponsor should remain a shadow behind the dazzling beneficiaries.
They were perfectly embodying the Foundation’s origin story and current direction — from the anecdote of a nun who once planted a single apple tree to the present.
It was as if someone had asked the founder and recreated the meaning down to the last detail.
‘And all of that came from that woman’s head?’
From planning the stage to setting it up, it was a performance a regular model couldn’t match.
Rachel thought her father would be pleased to see this.
“But the person who made those props is amazing too. They say one person made all of them.”
“Really?”
“The man over there. The one sitting and eating an apple.”
Kale bit into his apple proudly as if to say, “I gave it to her.”
“He made all of Chae Inha’s props. They were childhood friends or something.”
“…Does someone like him even get described as ‘or something’ when it comes to ability?”
“TooWiki doesn’t have anything on people like him, so I’m uninterested.”
He really didn’t stand out.
He was so ordinary that even TooWiki — which had all sorts of miscellaneous info — didn’t have an entry on him.
“I told you not to have an information diet.”
“It’s not a diet. It’s gourmet sampling, senior.”
…Does that even exist for information?
Kale’s ability was a so-called “data center.”
He processed all available information into astral data, engraved it into his head, and could browse it at will.
And the amount of information he could store was nearly limitless.
But aside from capacity, he tended to be picky about what information he paid attention to.
He could be an expert on certain topics but clueless about basic common sense.
At least he was interested in players — that was something.
“Let’s take a short break!”
When the break was announced, Inha took off her veil and sat beside him, chatting quietly with a bright expression different from her stance during shooting.
Rachel approached her.
“Is the shoot tiring?”
“No, thanks to you all. My friend said she made good use of the studio, too. Please tell them thank you.”
“You mean that man over there?”
Rachel shifted the topic to the man who seemed to avoid her gaze.
But he was just absent-mindedly biting into an apple.
Even if he was shy, common courtesy would make him at least nod in return.
Then something flicked through Rachel’s mind.
It was something Kale had said about the suspicious wave data they’d obtained at the workshop incident.
“When we looked at the vibration frequency, it looked like a man in his early twenties.”
When they had met Chae Inha, she’d ignored that comment.
But the man now in front of her matched that condition.
Rachel reached out her hand.
“I’m Rachel Adams.”
“…Yes. Nam Sehyun.”
Sehyun glanced at Rachel’s hand, clicked his tongue, then held it out.
‘Someone’s greeting me… ha, these are the artists.’
He suppressed a rising irritation and took her hand.
But then.
‘…What is this?’
Normally the ripple he put out would’ve come back and been felt.
But from the other person there was nothing.
No — it wasn’t that he didn’t feel anything…
‘The wave is being artificially held down.’
It felt like the wave he emitted was trapped and couldn’t return.
“What are you doing?”
“Huh? Ah….”
Before he knew it, he’d been gripping her hand tightly.
“Sorry.”
“Um… okay.”
He fiddled with the hand she let go of once or twice, then turned away.
It was rude to make a poor first impression, but that wasn’t the important thing at the moment.
Rachel hurried over to where Kale was.
“Kale.”
“Yes?”
She grabbed Kale’s hand.
“Analyze this too.”
“…That guy’s?”
Kale gave a half-interested expression and casually fed the wave data Rachel had placed into his hand into his system.
The blue candy looked bland.
“You already know what this will taste like.”
“Just analyze it.”
“I don’t want to taste something boring….”
Kale popped the candy into his mouth with no enthusiasm.
“You’re trying to compare it to that player from the Yoo Taehoon incident scene, right?”
“Just give me the results, don’t say anything else.”
“Hmm… it’s kind of an interesting flavor.”
“Eh? What flavor?”
Rachel was puzzled — she hadn’t expected anything, so she’d handed it over without much hope.
Since the wave had been absorbed and didn’t come back, she assumed there’d be almost no data.
“It tastes mostly like senior’s palm.”
…This guy, seriously.
“Ha ha ha. What did you expect? There’s hardly any amplitude. There’s nothing to compare.”
Kale spat the candy out.
The candy hit the ground and dispersed into blue particles.
“That other guy’s candy tasted way better. No comparison to this.”
Clap clap—
“All right! Back to shooting!”
The director clapped and called the next take.
Inha put her veil back on, and Nam Sehyun trudged off toward the parking lot.
‘…There’s definitely something there.’
It was only suspicion for now.
Without hard evidence, the management team couldn’t do anything.
With great authority came great restrictions on how to exercise it.
If they indiscriminately pried into someone’s background, they could be summoned for abuse of power.
“The shoot seems fine. Let’s move on to the next schedule, senior.”
“…….”
There were even more tasks besides this.
Rachel left the area with an unresolved unease.
“That bastard, how dare he try to shake hands like that?”
Heading toward the van in the parking lot, Sehyun shook his hand as if he’d touched something filthy.
The handshake with that man named Rachel had been a pretty dangerous situation.
It was well-known that players could check each other out through handshakes.
There was a risk that his awakening might be discovered.
Especially if the man knew about the incident with Yoo Taehoon.
‘Good thing I prepared.’
Sehyun leaned against the van and felt for the chain bracelet on his right arm.
The silver chain had been scorched black and barely retained its shape.
It was called the [Valley of Ashes].
During the Apocalypse, players used it to lessen the impact of the astral energy they emitted.
The bracelet acted like a deep valley, swallowing incoming astral power.
A genuine one could handle planetary-level stellar power, but—
‘This was probably its limit.’
It was a makeshift that only imitated the look and function.
This was the best Sehyun could make right now.
Still, it had done its job well enough without complaint.
‘But what if I used those?’
He toyed with the two soul stones in his pocket and smiled faintly.
With those soul stones, he could make a real artifact instead of a one-use quick fix.
‘Ah, I’m itching. I want to make it so badly!’
He’d been thinking about it nonstop during the two weeks they’d used the Foundation studio.
‘Once the workshop is restored, I’ll jump right into it…’
At that moment, a sudden heat hit the back of his head.
In that heat was a clear murderous intent.
Bang—!
He dove instinctively to avoid it, and a fist crushed the van’s body in an instant.
The dented metal around the impact glowed red and began to melt.
“…!”
Sehyun’s eyes turned to the source of the punch.
A huge figure well over two meters tall.
From his burning arms flowed lava.
Why was this man here? No, why…?
‘…Seongcheol hyung?’
Beep-beep-beep—!!
The receiver in his hand screamed like it was dying.
But smothered by the intense heat, it fell silent.
Crash—!
The man smashed the receiver, grinding his teeth.
“You…? You’re the one who killed my sister.”
Damn.
He’d really misunderstood something big.
