Chapter 100

As he rubbed the goosebumps that had risen on his arms, he suddenly realized that he couldn't feel any sensation.

'This... is a dream.'

No wonder he wasn't cold even though he was standing barefoot in the water during the season after the CSAT had ended.

Tae-un walked along the beach and approached him closely.

"Why are you out here alone? Did you run away?"

Even if it's a dream, it's annoying, so don't do it. Soram clenched his fists tightly. And gritting his teeth, he retorted.

"Run away, you say? I was just curious... Don't misunderstand. Tae-un-ssi."

Contrary to his enraged inner self, what came out of his mouth was an answer even more shocking than 'Soram-ssi.' His words continued.

"I just wanted to come out and see it quickly. As you know, everything is a first for me. ...If I had known you would come looking for me, I should have waited."

His lips moved on their own, and he even pressed his knuckles against the corner of his mouth, pretending to be shy.

"How can someone who can go anywhere have never seen the sea before?"

"...That's true."

Soram turned his head wistfully towards the horizon. His inner self, who had to watch the two of them like that, fell into extreme agony. Could it be that those two in the dream had been hit directly by Kim Ga-eul's attack?

"Soram-ssi."

No, please, at least stop using that form of address...

"What is it, Tae-un-ssi?"

Ha, the state of this dream is truly a sight to behold...

In the end, he watched their conversation with a sense of resignation. As if reflecting his memories to some extent, the words he had heard earlier about being able to go anywhere seemed familiar.

Tae-un, who had come to his side, bent his waist and dipped his hand into the water. Even in the dream, his broad back was the same as always. With the sea breeze blowing his bangs back, his features looked a bit more mature.

"Try touching it. It's different from just dipping your feet."

However, Soram didn't seem to have the intention to go that far. With his lips slightly pouting in the direction Tae-un couldn't see, he timidly grabbed the other person's collar.

"I've seen enough now. Let's go back to the hotel. I... prefer touching other things."

Wh-what the hell? Has he really gone crazy?

The indignant inner cry and Soram's action of turning his head away were completely opposite. Tae-un stopped his action, stood up, and faced Soram.

"What other things are you talking about?"

Because of Tae-un's atmosphere, and because he knew what kind of answer would come next, goosebumps rose all over his body again. Damn it, don't answer. It's better not to open your mouth at all.

"...You know."

I don't know! What do I know? That's absurd! That's absurd!

That was definitely a mutant with his own face. Or this dream itself was a mimicry dungeon. If not, this tremendous mental shock couldn't be explained.

"I'm asking because I really don't know."

"Are you tormenting me?"

"How could I?"

"You're subtly mean..."

Even when he expressed his dissatisfaction in a small voice, Tae-un stared at Soram and urged him to answer with his gaze. The moment his hesitating lips finally opened,

Aaaahhhh!

Soram sat up with an inner scream. Even though he had reserved the seat next to him and was sitting alone, he had gotten up so intensely that all the passengers on the train looked at him at once. Fortunately, he had covered his face with a hoodie and a mask, so he only appeared to be an embarrassed passenger who had sleep-talked intensely.

"Ugh, ugh."

He shook his head inside the hoodie, shaking off the aftermath of the crazy dream. This is insane. He must have been under a lot of stress lately in front of the sea. To have such a shitty dream.

Soon, he could figure out where the tightly knotted dream had come from. It was a scene from the masterpiece of the century, <Falling in Love Isn't a Sin, But You Need to Get a Grip>. It wasn't even a particularly romantic part. The one who was being shy and blushing was actually hiding their true personality and putting on an act!

"It was a dog dream after all..."

Even if he had a memory that he had severely lost due to a head injury in one of his previous lives, there was no way he would have had such a conversation.

"Ouch."

Perhaps because he had put strength into his hand while having the absurd dream, his right hand wrapped in bandages throbbed. When he flipped his hand over, a little blood was visible. For a scratch like this, it should have already healed, but perhaps because it was a wound caused by the magic stone, the recovery was considerably delayed.

―The next station is Seoul, Seoul Station, the last station for our train.

Just then, an announcement was made inside the train. The familiar forest of buildings could also be seen outside the window.

Soram pulled the hood further down over his head. On his left wrist, slightly exposed outside the sleeve, the pager that had been like one body with him was not attached.

* * *

The only thing exposed from the silhouette wrapped in black clothing was the short distance from the forehead to the bridge of the nose. The inside of the armory, which the intruder was looking down on while hiding in the ceiling's ventilation duct, was also pitch black like the intruder's attire. However, Soram's eyes soon distinguished the exact shapes in the darkness.

Clank.

The device that had fixed the ventilation duct was easily pulled out. He passed his body through the open gap.

A plane quietly slipped out of Soram's arms as he hung from the ceiling. The plane, hiding in the shadow cast on the wall, flew towards the surveillance camera and lightly tapped the camera with its back. The filming angle turned slightly to the side. Soram released his hanging hands and stood still in the air, in the blind spot of the camera.

'Hmm?'

Suddenly, he bent and stretched his bandaged hand. Then he tilted his head.

This was his second time coming here. The first time was a few days after the deal with the director, to find the entry route and understand the structure. The situation was no different from then, but somehow his body felt much lighter now. It also seemed like his vision was better in the dark than before. Was it because he had gained proficiency on his second visit?

Anyway, during his first visit, he couldn't bring many necessary weapons because he was assessing the situation, so this time, he planned to take a lot. A large duffel bag was slung over Soram's shoulder.

As he waved his finger, the plane covered the top of the surveillance camera. The recorded footage would probably appear as a mechanical error. Soram moved through the air to the firearms he was aiming for.

Advancing with blue mist, he tilted his head again. Indeed, the operation of his ability was more comfortable today.

'Why the hell...?'

It was right after he had dealt with the flood dungeon in the morning and had the mishap with the magic stone, and he had immediately moved from Busan to Seoul. He had even taken into account the deterioration of his condition while pushing through his schedule. However, not only was it not bad, but his physical abilities and special abilities were in excellent condition, as if he had stolen a hidden secret.

However, just because his physical condition was a bit better, sneaking in like a rat wasn't as pleasant as it was in movies. The dust and cobwebs in the ventilation ducts, and the process of crawling through them with his body hunched for dozens of minutes, couldn't possibly be a good feeling. The biggest misfortune was that the path was a round trip.

Soram opened the duffel bag he had brought. Anyway, he couldn't use weapons that required expertise, like anti-materiel sniper rifles, even if they were given to him. What Soram was aiming for were small-sized handguns. Dozens of guns fit into a bag lined with a blanket to conceal the shape of the stored items.

The surroundings of the armory were still quiet. However, someone might rush in at any time after discovering the abnormality in the camera or seeing traces of intrusion in the ventilation duct. Soram sharpened his senses even more and this time stuffed in a bunch of magazines. His anxious gaze constantly turned towards the entrance of the armory.

As the bag got heavier, his fingertips stiffened with impatience. Although he had experienced many things while living a long life, this kind of tension was a first for him.

The inside of the fully packed bag became so terrifying that it could be mistaken for a terrorist's. Terrorist. The moment he thought of that word, a short sigh escaped from the tip of his nose.

Eventually, the zipper of the heavy bag was fully closed. Soram pushed the bag into the ventilation duct first and squeezed his body in. The plane that had finished its task of covering the camera followed last.

'Done. I finished it somehow...'

At that moment, the plane returning to his arms slightly collided with the wall.

Tap.

"!"

Although the sound was small, at that moment, Soram took a deep breath, forgetting that he was in a dust pit.

"Cough, ...gulp, cough."

He pressed down on the burst of coughing, tightly covering his mouth. Even as physiological tears welled up, he found his own carelessness absurd.

He barely calmed his insides and put the plane in his arms. Then he started crawling through the dark and narrow path again, pushing the bag.

Eventually, he laughed at himself.

The end result of my actions will be saving this country, so why do I have to be here in this state?

'Having to steal to increase the chances of survival is shitty, and the fact that the increased chances are only a speck is even shittier...'

"..."

His mood sank even further as he came out of the dim ventilation duct. Still, by faithfully repeating the squalid movements, he was finally able to get out. He landed on the rooftop of a building with no people around, a short distance from the supply depot.

"Haa..."

Tap, tap.

He put down the bag for a moment and tried to dust off his clothes, but it only made his palms dirty. He took off his hat and outer clothing and shook them out irritably on the rooftop railing.

"Ugh, cobwebs. Ugh."

For him, who had lived only in the city all his life, this was truly rat poison. As he rubbed his clothes and body against the back of a hanging banner, the white cloth turned pitch black as if it had been scorched by fire. Still, after repeating the motion a few times, he became presentable enough to board the train.

Putting his hat back on and raising his head, he saw the wide roads, numerous cars, and the forest of buildings that made up the city, which he hadn't seen in a long time, spread out before his eyes.