While wandering through this data world from one data zone to another, I managed to clear several different levels.
If this were a game match, it means that I have completely won and am on my way to the final stage.
Along with that, the mascot Ai-chan is also flying around me, rambling about everything like an excited commentator.
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I replied to Ai-chan while passing through data regions with strings of 0s and 1s running everywhere.
"Success? Is that really called success? Don't tell Ai-chan that just surviving a level means you won the game!?>>
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I retorted to Ai-chan with a proud expression, recalling that scene in my mind made my body tremble with excitement. That scene should be ranked 3-4 stars in Hollywood action movies.
Anyway, my enemy in Stage 6 is indeed a tough opponent.
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Ai-chan said while showing a bored expression while hovering around me.
This is really strange. I admit my personality is somewhat bad. More precisely, it's extremely terrible, but that certainly doesn't change the fact that I'm a handsome individual, even though my appearance is merely a simulation.
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((What kind of romantic soul is that?))
But is it really that bad? While the romantic aspect is nonexistent, if that scene were shot properly, wouldn't it become a hot trend, even if its movie is a bland romance film?
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I looked up at Ai-chan with a puzzled expression, "What the hell should I apologize for?" I said while continuing to stride along a path made of solid black pixels.
To be honest, what I hate most in life are those overly sentimental and long-winded romances.
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Well, I am. I twiddled my ears, pretending not to care about the noise Ai-chan was shouting in my ear.
Honestly, what's so appealing about that?
Huh, you want to say that I'm just a block of data, so what do I know about judging, right?
Yeah, you're right. I don't enjoy romance movies; I'm an ordinary guy, not some sadomasochist.
Why should I care about those tedious, dull, and pointless relationships?
Aren't those dramas created by their own silly psychological issues?
And of course, a mere block of data like me has no connection to those to feel or misunderstand.
So, let's not discuss it. I am not interested in that stuff at all.
<
No thanks. Why should I get tangled up in that tiring and annoying issue?
That being said, I'm not interested in romance, but I know what romance is.
Romance to me is the allure, excitement, and drama that makes my heart race with thrill.
It could be a tense battle with a formidable rival.
It could be an adventure to an uncharted land where no one has explored before.
It could be the satisfaction of overcoming an impossible challenge that everyone else has given up on.
It's a long-winded, convoluted story with a silly theme, not engaging at all.
A safe match that doesn't require putting one's life on the line is not engaging at all.
A journey that someone else has plotted its destination is not engaging at all.
Not engaging at all. Not engaging at all. Not engaging at all. Not engaging at all.
Only something stimulating that can make my heart race is true romance, Hehehehe.
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Speaking of that last opponent, she was indeed tough. After all, she is a Herrscher.
More precisely, it was the Herrscher persona of Mei, queen of Thunder. Indeed, Mei, Kiana's beloved, her persona is so fully fleshed and detailed it's frightening.
This made my battle extremely challenging since every attack she unleashed could be considered a one-hit kill, and keeping up with that lightning girl's extraordinary speed was a difficult task.
And although I set trap after trap to bring her down, she remained unharmed after the attacks thanks to the electromagnetic shield surrounding her.
Even if I caused a dust explosion or dropped an entire container on her head, she would still not be harmed.
She really was a tough nut among tough nuts, which is why I had no choice but to risk everything and drag her down into the sea with me.
Even though I got electrocuted so bad I felt like my skin was about to fry off, I still managed to pry her mouth open and shove the pebble, infused with the power of the Fire Cloud, from my mouth into hers with a French kiss.
Or more accurately, a kiss of death. I should count myself lucky I didn't get my head blown off, electrocuted to death, or drown since, you know, I can't swim.
The explosion afterward launched me out of the ocean, spinning wildly through the air before I dropped like a busted kite.
But hey, as long as I clear the stage, any injuries I take during it get healed up, like I earned a bonus reward for winning or something.
Each battle's like a bucketload of sweet XP anyway, and every time it happens, I feel like I'm actually alive—even if I'm just a pile of data.
***
It was like we both wanted to escape the suffocating silence that had taken over after that awkward topic hit a dead end. So Ai-chan and I decided to shake hands and call a truce—or more precisely, I shook hands with her, since she was currently just a stuffed mascot floating around.
As we moved on to another topic, we reached the transition point from the intermediate zone to another data sector.
In front of us was a kind of pixelated slide made up of moving blocks, shifting back and forth from one end to the other.
It made me feel like the main character in a retro game like Super Mario or Sonic. Honestly, my journey through the Hyperion server's data world wasn't all that different.
Then Ai-chan and I started playing a hopscotch game on those gray-and-black pixel blocks flying around, like some glitchy crossover between upgraded Super Mario and a dinosaur bug. One misstep and boom—you're falling straight into the endless data stream below, which I assume would reset your brain right back to Stage One.
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<<...I fear humanity is lost. And you're the reason.>>
I laughed, jumping onto another floating pixel block, almost slipping because Ai-chan was zipping around me like some kind of tech mosquito.
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I squinted, picturing Ai-chan in a performance outfit, bunny ears on her head, hopping around while singing, 'Ai-chan Beam~!' The image was so horrifying I almost slipped again.
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Ai-chan floated up and gave my head a light bonk with a virtual model of a hand.
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I jumped onto a larger pixel block. In the distance, the glowing gate to the final level was slowly coming into view, like a dream plated in chrome.
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I shrugged and lifted my foot just as the pixel block carried me to my destination.
I stood before a door made up of countless pixel blocks, arranged in the shape of a wooden door like those found in RPG games.
Then, I extended my hand in a gentlemanly manner to invite Ai-chan and said:
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I took a step back as Ai-chan floated forward, a key emerging from her hand and inserting itself into the keyhole on the door.
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Despite saying that, she still gently turned the key in her hand.
And with a click, the door opened wide into an archway of pixel blocks just like every other time, swallowing us whole.
[Open file region]
With that familiar chime ringing in our ears, our vision turned pitch black for a moment, and then—just like always—the pixel blocks gradually faded away to reveal the map of Stage 7, the final stage.
What unfolded before our eyes was a snow-covered field, dyed pure white.
That whiteness filled our vision just before a gust of snow-laden wind swept past, making me shiver uncontrollably.
<
While I was trembling from the cold, Ai-chan seemed completely unfazed.
We crossed the snowy field and trekked through a nearby forest, only stopping when we caught sight of a cozy-looking wooden cabin built not far from the edge of the woods.
Only at that moment did a new chime sound in my ear.
[Welcome to data region – File 07. Current location: Kiana's house in Siberia, year 2010.]
The snow kept falling, covering my shoulders in a pale white layer, like flour.
I was just about to take another step when suddenly—a small figure darted past the edge of my vision.
I froze, my eyes widening in vague shock, as though I'd just slipped into another reality—one where time was no longer linear.
It was a little girl.
She had long white hair, neatly braided into two side plaits that swayed with each hurried step she took through the snowstorm. On her back was a bundle of firewood bigger than her tiny frame, and yet, she walked steadily, without a word of complaint.
The wind howled past, and in the moment I stood there in silence, I uttered—so softly, it was as if only meant for my own ears:
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The name slipped from my throat like a gentle curse. Beneath the snowstorm, it was instantly devoured by the wind—but my heart heard it loud and clear.
Ai-chan flew slowly beside me, her bright eyes flickering with a hint of doubt:
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Ai-chan paused in thought for a moment, then shrugged:
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I shook my head, brows furrowed:
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Ai-chan fell silent. It was an unfamiliar kind of silence, like she too was thinking more deeply than usual. After a while, she replied:
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Our conversation led nowhere, like a maze shrouded in mist. And so, we both quietly decided: to move toward the wooden cabin.
Each step we took on the snow carried a kind of quiet reflection, as if even the snow was listening to the chaotic thoughts swirling in my mind.
As we approached, the light spilling from the cabin's windows was so warm it felt like it could melt the cold itself. I reached out and gently pushed the door.
It opened without a creak.
The interior was strangely cozy—aged wood, the scent of pine resin, and the firelight dancing on the walls like flickering shadows.
Kiana—the little girl version—didn't even notice our presence. She carefully placed a bundle of firewood on the floor and quietly walked to the corner of the room.
But the man sitting by the fireplace was a different story.
He looked up, and his brilliant blue eyes locked onto us. His white hair was tied back lazily, and a rough stubble covered his jaw, like he hadn't shaved in days. He had the kind of rugged physique that made him look more like a snow-wolf mercenary who had survived countless winters than a warrior fighting Honkai.
He chuckled softly, the kind of chuckle that carried the weight of many lived years.
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He glanced at the young Kiana with a gentle gaze, then turned back to look at me.
I shot a glance at Ai-chan, my eyes still fixed on the man, and asked:
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Ai-chan answered softly, her voice unusually gentle:
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I froze for a moment upon hearing her words.
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I looked back at him—the man who wore a warm smile, yet somehow just as cold as the Siberian snow outside.
As I stared at him, I found myself wondering just how strong he was… and whether I should fight him.
This was a question of priorities.
Would I give in to my desire for combat, or would I step aside and let Kiana reunite with her father—even if it was only a simulated version?
To find the answer, I dragged a chair across the wooden floor and sat down, facing Kiana's old man directly.
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Well, by tradition, no matter what happens, when the hero finally stands before the demon lord in the final stage, there's always a conversation before the battle begins.
Depending on the game, and the choices made, that battle doesn't necessarily have to be a literal one.
So let me be the one to begin it—the final stage.
My heart is burning right now.
*****
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Siegfried tilted his head slightly, the smile on his lips never fading—in fact, it seemed to deepen with a hint of interest. He nodded.
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I leaned back in the chair and crossed my arms. It wasn't out of arrogance or bravado—just a way to stabilize the torrent of thoughts boiling in my head.
< Right now, I'm on a pretty bizarre journey—taking down each of Kiana's simulated foes, those shaped by her memories and mind… and while it may all be meaningless, this is the final stage.
A simulation—just a simulation. I don't need any desires beyond that. But still, I want one fight to remember. A battle where I can carve the mark of my existence into someone.
A fair fight between me and your daughter. With nothing in the way, no one to interfere. A complete battle. Win or lose—it doesn't matter. I just want to enjoy the process.>>
I paused for a moment, my gaze locked on him. The firelight reflected in those blue eyes of his—calm, not blazing, like a snow-covered ocean, deep and unmoving.
< Siegfried kept that smile of his, didn't speak a word of protest, didn't refute a thing—not even in the face of my cocky provocation. His demeanor remained calm and composed, as if everything I said had already been accounted for in his mind.
That irritated me a little.
I exhaled, my eyes softening.
<<…But if Kiana really wants to see you more than fight me, then I'll back off. I'm not some blind battle maniac who doesn't care about others.>>
And as if to shatter that heavy silence in the most effective way possible, Ai-chan zipped around the room like a sugar-high hummingbird, chattering non-stop:
< <<< < < We have to make use of every asset we possess—our strength, intelligence, techniques, experience, weapons, information, terrain, weather, the enemy's temperament and weaknesses, you name it. We use all of it to form an effective strategy and secure an inevitable victory.
As long as you don't resort to disgraceful tactics like dragging in innocent people or using hostages, then it's still a fair fight—a clash where both you and your enemy are prepared to wager your lives. Of course, you can set certain boundaries to avoid unnecessary loss of life, but you still have to accept that there's always a degree of risk in a battle like this.>>
I paused for a moment, then spoke again, with my signature mocking grin.
< After I finished, Siegfried, sitting across from me, gave a firm nod in agreement.
< There's nothing wrong with playing dirty, nothing wrong with fighting in a way that's not exactly honorable. That's the kind of battle every real man longs for—throw off the shackles of rules and dive headfirst into the madness, where we can unleash the beast within.
Even a scrappy afternoon brawl from our youth can be more thrilling than a match bound by a thousand rules. We face each other with nothing holding us back, fighting for ourselves and the fire in our hearts. Forget those grand reasons and lofty ideals driving the fight for a moment.
Still, a fair battle should be one where no one's forced into anything—that's the only way to truly enjoy it to the fullest.>>
The AI mascot in the form of a stuffed plushie, Ai-chan, seemed utterly shell-shocked by what we said. She floated midair, frozen stiff like someone had just unplugged her.
I glanced over at Ai-chan, still drifting like a lost balloon, her wide, stunned eyes saying it all—pure cultural shock, like she'd just sat through a Cold War philosopher's speech.
…And as I quietly took in that expression, my mind started drifting back to my thoughts again.
I had just said—or more like ranted—about how an ideal battle should be a place where both sides use every card, every trick, every weapon, every bit of experience to crush the other without asking for permission.
But still…
(I'll always give my opponent time to prepare.)
I muttered, not loudly—just enough for myself to hear. Not because I was soft, or noble, or anything like that. It's just that—
(Defeating an unready enemy is boring as hell.)
It's like punching a bag full of air. No weight. No resistance. No flavor of victory. Just empty, dull, like watching some cheap Sunday movie because you're too bored to do anything else.
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…Of course, there was one exception.
I blinked, staring at the fire curling in the hearth. My eyes narrowed, like a wolf grinning at its own memories.
(That noble lady.)
(That foolish little princess.)
Kiana Kaslana.
She's the one who projected that impression of the real me—that I'm some arrogant, sadistic bastard who'd greet her with a kick to the face instead of a handshake.
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Well, I am just a simulation shaped by her imagination, after all.
And of course, my terrible personality was built from that impression.
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And maybe that's why I—"Simulated Yumeji Satsuki"—couldn't suppress the strange urge inside my heart.
That moment when I stepped through one of the two trap doors of the simulation chamber and appeared before her for the very first time.
That instinct—that twisted definition she'd branded onto me—overrode my reason the very moment I saw her. There she was, babbling nonsense without a care in the world, completely oblivious even though the simulation had already begun.
And that's why I couldn't help myself. I leapt into the air and swung a kick right into that girl's face.
It was a perfect kick.The sole of my shoe slammed into her face with enough force to leave a visible imprint.
The impact was precise, clean—it sent her flying and left her rolling on the ground, totally floored.
I wanted to say, "Pleasure to meet you, my dear opponent"—but this body of mine decided to express that greeting… in a slightly more physical manner.
((Well, it's not really my fault. It's Kiana's fault for thinking so badly of me.))
< That voice.
It came from my right. Ai-chan's voice floated over as she hovered gently in midair, flashing me that sinister little smile as she tossed out her oh-so-innocent reminder.
I turned to look. There she was—Ai-chan, the mascot AI of the Hyperion server—tilting her head with a grin stretching ear to ear, her eyes glowing like a pair of car headlights.
And that's when I remembered.
I remembered the single most cursed rule of this damn data world:
All i think....
All my internal monologues, bitter sighs, personal guilt, logical deductions—
All of them get projected as visible text right in front of others, whether I speak them or not.
That's when it hit me—
Why the corner of Siegfried's eye was twitching so violently.
A thin green vein throbbed at his temple.
He was still smiling…
But it wasn't the warm, fatherly smile of a kind uncle anymore.
No, that was the grin of an old tiger watching a young punk slap around his daughter and then smugly monologue about it like he'd just won a damn Nobel Peace Prize.
(I'm dead. I am so dead.)
That was all I could think, as I braced myself for the incoming beatdown from Kiana's dad.