I am not exactly confident when it comes to staring contests.
Nor am I accustomed to engaging in psychological battles with strangers.
[Mental strength rapidly decreases]
[Warning! Mental strength is below 5%!]
Moreover, if a staring contest means my mental fortitude will be sapped to the point of throbbing headaches, then my confidence plummets further still.
While I should have simply averted my gaze, an inexplicable force held my eyes locked.
[Mental strength is insufficient]
[Failed to resist Mind Control (A)]
A sensation akin to sinking into a bog enveloped me.
Recalling a past instance of actually being trapped in such a mire, the foul memory only intensified my already wretched mood.
Without conscious thought, my feet began to move forward.
– Come here, come here.
The whispers seemed to hum and thrum near my eardrums.
Like a zombie clawing its way from a swamp, I began to shuffle forward, dragging my feet with agonizing slowness.
“…?”
And so, my first encounter with that enigmatic entity concluded abruptly.
Whoosh!
The very instant Eldras turned around,
It vanished without a sound or a trace, its departure swift and silent.
[Mind Control (A) is released]
Only then did my mind return to me, bringing with it a searing headache, as if I had just suffered a severe concussion.
A pained groan involuntarily escaped my throat.
[Risk level decreases]
[Current risk level: B-]
[Achievement unlocked]
[Title: Steel Mind is granted]
[Mental strength permanently increases]
A weary sigh escaped my lips, a lingering echo of the disaster that had just swept over me and vanished.
Though I yearned to delve deeper into what had transpired, I found myself utterly devoid of the strength to do so.
With a voice barely above a whisper, I turned to Eldras, who was still scanning the surroundings, and asked,
“…Hey, are you tired?”
“No?”
Perfect, then.
“Take watch. For… just 20 hours.”
“Twenty hours… What?”
An insurmountable wave of drowsiness washed over me, leaving me with no energy to even attempt resistance.
Truth be told, I harbored no intention of resisting it in the first place.
Threats or whatever else might loom, surely after enduring such an ordeal, I was entitled to a single moment of undisturbed sleep.
With that, I simply toppled forward, succumbing to unconsciousness.
A soft thud.
“Oh no… What am I supposed to do if you just suddenly collapse like that…?”
As I slipped into the abyss of unconsciousness, a gentle, yielding sensation registered.
It was unmistakably someone cushioning my fall.
A faint scent of grass emanated from the elf’s body.
[Mental strength reaches 0%]
[User’s nightmare is roused]
Accompanied by an ineffable sensation of weightlessness,
I drifted into the depths of sleep.
****
My father was a firefighter.
My father, a man who bore the weight of justice, battled infernos, and always returned home late, left few lasting memories of my childhood.
For he ultimately perished in his fight against the flames.
A meager compensation from the state, coupled with the condolences of our community.
After barely subsisting for a month on that, a suffocating, unpleasant lethargy descended upon our family.
That was the very reason I first learned to drink in middle school.
Through the first glass offered by my mother, I came to know the world, discovering it to be a truly vile, bitter, and toxic place.
Engulfed in apathy, I abandoned my studies, spending each day on frivolous pursuits.
I worked short-term part-time jobs, only to squander the earnings on the very same day.
I even succumbed to the allure of gambling.
Then, in a single devastating moment, my mother, who had been the family’s financial pillar, vanished.
My life, in turn, underwent a complete and abrupt transformation.
To shed the shackles of my apathy, I enlisted in the military.
And since I was already committing, I joined the special forces, determined to truly get my head straight.
Perhaps inheriting my father’s genes, my body performed remarkably well, despite my poor diet and heavy reliance on alcohol.
This resilience allowed me to endure the hellish training, eventually earning the respect of both instructors and fellow recruits.
Then, one fateful day,
My spirit shattered once again.
“Damn it… this dream again?”
A place where sandstorms raged, a solitary pillar began to crumble, and an ominous creaking reverberated through the air.
I was holed up in a house, its structure ravaged by an explosion.
My concealment was necessitated by the overwhelming presence of terrorists intent on my demise.
My mission had been to extract hostages from a nest of terrorists who had abducted our own citizens.
Having dreamt this same nightmare dozens, even hundreds of times, I knew precisely what would unfold next.
For something, an object of unknown origin, came rolling toward me.
“Can’t you just get out of my head already?”
A military cap tumbled to my feet.
The cap completed one final roll, and then, from within it, the familiar eyes of a comrade, a friend, stared up at me.
It was an act of utter depravity, a grim practice of tossing the severed heads of slain enemies into homes.
“Terrorist bastards.”
“Why just bring his head… Damn it.”
Being a dream, many details would often shift.
Occasionally, the eyes would blink, or my friend’s disembodied head would comically bounce and roll.
“Hey, Siyoung. What are you doing there? Where are you going without me?”
But today, this bastard had the audacity to speak to me.
It tumbled closer, then tilted precariously, its eyes fixed directly on mine as it spoke.
Though the voice, faint and distant in my memories, echoed and momentarily stunned me,
I swiftly reminded myself that this was nothing more than a dream.
‘It’s just a dream.’
With an impassive expression, I countered.
“Do you know how hard it was because of you? Ah, you bastard… Is this because I didn’t pay back the 300,000 won?”
“Pfft, I’d forgotten about that. Thanks for reminding me?”
“You still won’t lose a single argument.”
‘It really feels like they’re alive.’
‘Even if it’s a dream… sigh.’
“More importantly, you really fought well, didn’t you? I was watching from heaven.”
After a brief moment of contemplation, I carefully propped the head upright and inquired,
“Fought what? When did I ever fight?”
“Hmm… You fought guys like me incredibly well, didn’t you? I saw it from heaven.”
“Heaven, my ass.”
“You’re a sniper, how in the hell would you get into heaven, you bastard?”
“Oh, those heads? Well, I guess… thanks to you, I didn’t panic as much.”
“So it was thanks to me, huh? Buy me a drink?”
“A drink, my foot! Do you know how much straight soju I drank because of you, you bastard?”
Plagued by PTSD, I spent years holed up in my room, drowning myself in alcohol and living like a complete wreck.
Though a sense of injustice lingered, it was a memory I had already resolved to conquer on my own.
“I saw you hanging out with the registered users too. Where did you learn to troll? From your big bro here, right?”
“‘Big bro’?”
‘…Let’s just hear them out for now.’
“This ‘big bro’ thing again. Anyway, why did you suddenly pop out and start talking to me like this?”
The entity coughed briefly, then, without preamble, asked me,
“Are you struggling?”
“You’re just suddenly asking if I’m struggling?”
“No, it’s just… I’m sure there’s someone out there who can help you.”
His sudden mention of someone who would help me left me utterly dumbfounded.
Though a poignant emotion began to stir within me, I quickly sensed a faint strangeness about the situation.
“Why are you suddenly saying that?”
“Isn’t this kind of motivation something only someone close, like me, can give? Besides, how many clichés are there about a dead friend giving motivation, right?”
“Is that so?”
“Yeah. Anyway, there’s definitely someone trustworthy nearby.”
“There are no people around, but there was an elf.”
“They’ll be in the gallery (TL Note: A term referring to an online forum or community, often used in Korean web culture). What elf? Why would you trust such a dimwitted kid?”
‘They certainly seem to know everything, since it’s my dream.’
“Who is it, then?”
“…Well. I know your personality well, so if this ‘big bro’ had to recommend someone…”
He incessantly referred to himself as “big bro,” “big bro.”
I unequivocally detected an anomaly.
Interrupting his sentence with a dismissive wave of my arm,
I asked.
“But. Do you know something?”
“……What?”
I slowly approached, then carefully lifted my friend’s severed head.
Whether due to the dream’s nature or some other unknown factor, it felt remarkably light.
Meeting the eyes of this phantom friend, I spoke.
“Was that always your way of speaking? Wasn’t that clearly the way I used to talk to you?”
“……”
In truth, I was a year his senior.
And so, I often playfully teased him, saying, “Your big bro will take care of everything~.”
“You always used honorifics, you bastard. Who the hell are you?”
And furthermore, from the very beginning,
This entity had a distinct reason for its inability to speak in all my dreams.
“Where did you spit out the bomb in your mouth? Did the terrorists send you without one this time?”
In reality, a bomb had been placed inside this bastard’s mouth.
The god those bastards worshipped apparently promised them hell if their heads exploded.
The sheer malevolence of humanity was truly horrific.
Even now, nights often pass with me staring wide-eyed into the darkness, haunted by that thought.
“You’re doubting me over just that? This is a dream.”
“You always exploded in front of me, you bastard. Do you know how hard it was every time I saw that?”
And yet, the most crucial detail was this:
This.
“If you were my friend, you would have said ‘I’m sorry’ before telling me to cheer up, wouldn’t you?”
That bastard, whatever his other faults,
He was, above all, a man who always offered his apologies promptly.
Even if I were to assume this was a lucid dream,
That would never change.
Such a conviction resided deeply within me.
“You’re not my nightmare. You’re someone I don’t know.”
“…Is that so?”
“Who are you? Answer me, now.”
Who are you, to dare tamper with my deepest PTSD within the confines of my own nightmare?
A moment later, the answer I received was quite—
No, in fact, it was a name I had somewhat anticipated.
“It’s me, Kozmo.”
A hollow, bitter laugh escaped my lips.
“You son of a b*tch.”
“You bastard, I knew it was you.”
Hearing my friend’s voice after such a genuinely long time, a faint tremor of—
My heart had, indeed, felt a pang of emotion.
“Haha, why is your mental strength so high? I thought you’d succumb with just that.”
“You’re laughing? You son of a b*tch.”
I strove to wrench myself free from the grip of my emotions.
Despite my efforts, it proved to be less than simple.
‘Damn it.’
I attempted to hurl the head away, only to find it had vanished from my grasp.
“Alright, I give up. This is a first.”
Instead, why the hell was my first love standing behind me?
“How about it? Do you like it a little?”
The sight of them smiling sweetly, pushing their black hair behind their ear, was utterly vexing.
I was vexed by the fact that I had felt a fleeting spark of excitement.
Given that it was a dream, any action I took, even striking them, felt like a self-inflicted loss.
Thus, I resolved to make a solemn vow instead.
“I swear, I’ll find you somehow and make you pay for this.”
“What if I just erase your memory?”
“…Damn, you’re right? Can’t I kill you here somehow?”
“I can’t actually do that much. Not even if I’m an Awakened, you know.”
“You, you were an Awakened?”
“Of course. Otherwise, how could I have uploaded so many anatomy charts of anomalies to the gallery?”
“You uploaded anatomy charts?”
Upon reflection, I did recall seeing a few posts adorned with warning labels.
“But if that’s the case, what I originally intended to do might get a little twisted.”
He, or rather, they? (TL Note: The speaker is Kozmo, whose gender is unknown, but they are currently manifesting as the protagonist’s first love, who is presumed female.) The voice, despite the appearance of my first love, was one I couldn’t identify, echoing unsettlingly.
A strange, unsettling feeling began to creep in.
“What, were you planning to gaslight me?”
“Yes.”
“……You’re so damn honest I don’t know what to say.”
“Actually, this is only natural, isn’t it? If I can do as I please, that’s a good thing.”
If I were given the chance to enter someone else’s dream and gaslight them…
Hm, I probably would.
I indulged in a moment of petulance.
“Don’t talk like that with that face, with those gestures, you bastard.”
There was already a slight emotional rift with my first love.
This bastard must be doing this to mess with my feelings.
“Why? You don’t like it?”
Emphasizing the curves of their body, they subtly provoked me by idly touching their chest.
“You really like these pants, don’t you? It’s ingrained in your subconscious.”
Damn it, dolphin shorts.
There was something I wanted to say, but the thought vanished from my mind.
‘Look at this bastard.’
Their talent for getting under my skin was formidable; they had a knack for raising my blood pressure.
Was it because my emotions had been shaken earlier? My rationality wasn’t returning easily.
“You son of a b*tch… Haa…”
How was I going to deal with this bastard?
“Just kidding.”
Perhaps sensing my murderous intent, they hastily declared it a joke.
“So, what do you want from me?”
Even in this dream, I was starting to feel exhausted.
Unable to contain my curiosity about why they were doing this to me, I asked,
“What is it?”
Kozmo offered a captivating smile for a moment.
However, it was clearly an act.
“Ah, it’s still difficult, I see. Anyway. You, listen.”
Kozmo, after briefly touching their lips,
“Care for a contract with me?”
They proposed a contract.
With an unnecessarily alluring smile, one that seemed natural, not feigned.
“Huh?”
Damn it, should I trust this…?
