< Episode 22. Three Promises (4) >
The god of wine and ecstasy.
Among Olympus, only one of the Twelve Olympians fit that epithet—Dionysus.
[The constellation, 'God of Wine and Ecstasy,' hums to himself.]
Though no sound could be heard, the droplets of spilled alcohol danced as if moving to a melody. The drops moved as though alive, etching countless musical notes across the floor.
The notes traveled back and forth between Yoo Sangah and me.
After watching them closely for a moment, Yoo Sangah spoke.
"It's the Minute Waltz."
"You can read sheet music?"
"A little."
Tilting her head, she continued,
"Chopin, out of nowhere… What do you think it means?"
I had no idea. To begin with, it was strange to imagine Dionysus knowing Chopin at all.Then again, according to the original story, he was a constellation deeply interested in post-era musical culture—so maybe it wasn't that strange.
The notes traced cute little circles, like a puppy's footsteps, then suddenly turned into arrows pointing at the remaining soju bottles. Yoo Sangah said,
"...It looks like he wants us to drink more."
"Let's try it."
No matter how I looked at it, there was no other way to interpret it.
"Ms. Yoo Sangah, just drink a little. At least one of us needs to stay sober."
If I lost my senses, someone would need to protect the group.
We could wake Lee Gilyoung and Shin Yoosung with soda if things got urgent, but just for tonight, I wanted to let them sleep.
"Are you bad with alcohol, Dokja?"
"I'm not very strong."
I lightly clinked glasses with Yoo Sangah and downed a shot of soju.
The alcohol, entering my system after a long time, made my stomach burn.
But the musical notes still didn't stop.
"...I think it wants you to drink more."
I poured back several more shots in quick succession. Heat rose from my core, and soon my face felt hot and flushed. The notes began to move even more energetically.
Or maybe they just looked more energetic because I was getting drunk.
Yoo Sangah smiled.
"Still, it's nice drinking together. I was feeling a bit lonely."
How many more drinks did we have like that?
As a pleasant buzz settled in, my mood lifted too. When I suddenly looked over, I realized Yoo Sangah was much closer than before.
She definitely hadn't been this close earlier…
Was it my imagination?
My breathing was rough.
I couldn't tell whether it was mine—or hers.
Yoo Sangah's shoulder brushed lightly against mine.
"Dokja."
"Yes."
Her skin—clearly bare, without makeup—was flawless, not a blemish in sight.
Looking slightly dazed, Yoo Sangah slowly leaned toward me.
Her face drew closer and closer.
Quarter notes and eighth notes paired up and danced wildly around us. Whether it was because of the soft warmth against my shoulder or something else, my heart suddenly began pounding fast.
...Something's not right.
[Exclusive Skill, 'Fourth Wall,' is suppressing your intoxication.]
With the message, my mind snapped sharply back into clarity.
Right. Something like this wouldn't happen in reality.
The composed, meticulous Yoo Sangah acting this way—
This was only possible because this was Ways of Survival.
I firmly grabbed Yoo Sangah's shoulders and said,
"Ms. Yoo Sangah, pull yourself together."
"Huh? Ah… ah?"
Startled, Yoo Sangah blinked rapidly.
For the first time, her face—unchanged even while drunk—flushed bright red.
"I—I was… what was I doing…?"
As expected, this hadn't been her will.
Turning toward the musical notes circling the floor, I spoke with a faintly bitter feeling.
"Enough with the jokes. Let's get to the point."
At that moment, the notes froze all at once.
It was an ominous silence, like a festival abruptly halted in the dead of night.
The drinks we'd been holding toppled over simultaneously, and the pooled alcohol on the floor crackled, sparking.
Then the droplets gathered together, forming a single line of text.
—You're no fun.
I was slightly taken aback by the words written on the floor.
It might not seem like much—just a few letters written with spilled alcohol—but in the world of Ways of Survival, a constellation directly conveying its intent was no small matter.
There was a reason so many constellations relied on dokkaebi channels to send indirect messages.
To project one's will directly onto the earth without a sponsor star or dokkaebi required a being among the highest tier of constellations—and consumed an enormous amount of probability. This world's probability was that sensitive to language.
From the Great Hall in the sky, a faint wailing sound echoed.
It seemed the gods of other worlds had noticed Dionysus's presence.
Judging by the fact that he had communicated directly without using an incarnation, he must have been confident in handling the consequences.
So this is what an Olympian of the Twelve is like.
I deliberately spoke provocatively.
"If you're so confident, why don't you come down here yourself and talk?"
The string of letters shifted.
—I hate tentacle freaks.
Even now, he absolutely refused to admit he might lose.
—Fighting's a pain. And if I come down personally, everyone dies.
Honestly, I hadn't expected anything else.
And if a constellation on the level of one of the Twelve Olympians truly descended, Seoul would be reduced to dust.
—My mother died the same way. Killed by my father.
Yoo Sangah, who had read the sentence, whispered to me.
"...What does that mean?"
"He's probably talking about his birth myth."
As far as I knew, Dionysus's parents were Zeus and Semele, the princess of Thebes.
Hera, jealous of the relationship between Zeus and Semele, one day disguised herself as Semele's nurse and whispered the following temptation.
'What if Zeus isn't real? Ask him to show you his true form when he's in Olympus.'
Deceived by those words, Semele truly made such a request of Zeus—and soon after, she was burned to death by the radiance of Zeus's true body.
Yoo Sangah, who had been listening to my explanation, tilted her head.
"Uh… that's a little different from the version I know. From what I remember, his mother wasn't the princess of Thebes but—"
I was slightly surprised by Yoo Sangah's breadth of knowledge.
It was enough to make me wonder whether she also held a Level-1 certification in mythological history, not just Korean history. Of course, no such certification actually existed.
The string of letters shifted, sounding amused.
—Hmm. You humans know quite a bit about me.
Just as Yoo Sangah had said, there were two versions of Dionysus's birth myth.
One in which his mother was Semele, princess of Thebes.
And another in which his mother was Persephone, the wife of Hades.
I asked Dionysus,
"Come to think of it, I'm curious. Which of the two is the real one?"
—Does that matter?
"It does. There's a reason I need it to be the latter."
In truth, the reason I'd started this drinking session—following Jung Heewon's suggestion—had been to lure Dionysus from the very beginning.
Dionysus, son of Persephone.
If that version of the myth were true, then there was a high probability that Dionysus could make contact with Persephone, the wife of Hades.
—How rude of you, human.
The droplets of alcohol forming the letters trembled.
—But I like rude humans.
In fact, I already knew which version was true.
Ways of Survival briefly mentioned Dionysus as well.
—Once before, there was a human who flaunted his arrogance like you. He played the lyre beautifully. But his end wasn't a good one.
"I'll be different."
—I can open the entrance to the Underworld for you. 'The Father of the Rich Night' doesn't like me, but the goddess of the Underworld will grant my request. Still, that place is extremely dangerous, and there's no guarantee you'll return alive.
"That's fine."
—Good. I like desperate humans.
He was agreeing far too easily, which only made me more tense.
Dionysus was a constellation whose thoughts were impossible to read.
—Remember this. You have only twelve hours. If you fail to return within that time, you will never be able to go back to the scenario you once lived in.
The dizziness before my eyes intensified. A sudden wave of drowsiness washed over me, and I realized what was about to happen.
Damn it—so this was why he made us drink.
I spoke urgently.
"Ms. Yoo Sangah, wake the kids."
That was probably my last line of consciousness.
[A new hidden scenario has arrived.]
As my eyes closed, it felt as though the droplets of alcohol were giggling.
—May 'the Father of the Rich Night' take a liking to you.
[The constellation, 'God of Wine and Ecstasy,' is guiding your soul.]
[Your body is freed from the restraints of the flesh.]
Colors burst and bled across my mind as if I'd taken some kind of drug. A throbbing pain spread across my forehead, and faint voices echoed from all around.
[Who is the author?]
[...Interesting.]
[Has the soul of an incarnation stepped into the world of the constellations?]
[You will regret this.]
Whispering voices.
They were probably the Olympians.
[Exclusive Skill, 'Fourth Wall,' is strongly activated.]
The noisy voices vanished instantly, as if someone had pressed mute.
[You have entered the Underworld as the soul of a living being.]
[The judges of the Underworld have detected your presence.]
With the final message, countless presences around me disappeared all at once. The world seemed to spin violently before my body sank heavily downward.
After a moment, it felt as though I had arrived somewhere.
It was hard to move, but I could roughly imagine the scene that would greet me once I opened my eyes.
The sticky air of the Underworld.
Jet-black sand clinging to my fingertips.
I was probably on the banks of the Underworld ruled by Hades.
The River Acheron leading to Hades's palace would be there, and Charon, the ferryman of the dead, would be waiting for me.
And then—
"Hey! Wake up! What the hell are you doing here?!"
Something heavy struck my head, and a black, oil-like liquid poured over my body. I coughed violently and staggered to my feet. Someone groped at me, then grabbed me by the collar and hoisted me up.
"What, a newbie? Don't recognize your face."
It was a face I didn't recognize either.
A man with a vicious expression and a body packed with bulging muscles. People nearby snickered as they watched me dangle helplessly.
"He looks decent enough. Search him. He might've brought something with him."
"Hey, hey—don't touch him carelessly. If he fell down here, he's probably no ordinary guy. You remember that lunatic who showed up a while back, right?"
"Ah, that guy was a special kind of crazy. You think people like that show up often?"
I ignored the men's pointless chatter and took in my surroundings.
A vast area radiating intense heat.
Judging by the swarming wraiths, this was definitely the Underworld.
Steel frameworks forged from the metals of the Underworld stood everywhere, along with furnaces used for smelting. The place felt like a massive factory. Spirits who had worked themselves to death in the living world were now slaves of the Underworld, forced to manufacture something even after death.
At a glance, it looked like some kind of giant robot…
What kind of place was this?
"Hey! Are you ignoring me right now?"
I truly ignored him and calmly twisted his arm.
"W-what?! What kind of strength is this—?!"
I didn't have time to deal with small fry like them.
First, I needed to check the hidden scenario I'd just arrived in.
Category: HiddenDifficulty: A+
Clear Condition: Avoid the eyes of the Judges of the Underworld and find a way to safely return to the surface.Time Limit: 12 hours
Reward: 10,000 Coins
Failure: You will be forcibly registered as a resident of the Underworld.
...The scenario had arrived properly.
The time limit Dionysus mentioned was accurate too.
Then why was I here?
I should've fallen near the banks of the River Acheron.
"Y-you bastard! How dare you treat us like—!"
Just as the man's massive fist was about to swing toward me, a sharp voice rang out from behind.
"Hey there, what's going on? Something interesting happening?"
"U-uaaah!"
"Haha, let me join too. Huh? I've been bored to death making Gundams all day."
"Run! Everyone, run!"
The men who had surrounded me immediately scattered.
They moved with the speed of herbivores encountering a predator.
I turned toward the source of the voice.
A slender young man, his long bangs hanging down to cover his face.
Spotting me standing there alone, he walked over.
He examined me closely, then muttered in shock,
"...Why are you here?"
For a moment, I didn't understand what he meant.
...Who the hell is this guy, acting like he knows me?
"What, you don't recognize me? Did you really forget?"
Only after the young man brushed aside his bangs did I recognize him.
...Damn it.
Come to think of it, the Underworld was where the dead gathered.
I hadn't thought of that.
Of course—the ones I killed would end up here too.
"Ahh, don't look so guarded. It's not like either of us has a life anymore—we're both already dead, right?"
His curious eyes drew unnervingly close.
A despicable, cruel gaze.
I'd only seen it briefly, but it was an expression I could never forget.
Wearing a greasy smile, he continued,
"So, mister—who exactly killed you? Go on, spill it. Yeah?"
Kim Namwoon—the delusional villain who had died in the first scenario—was here, in Hades' Underworld.
< Episode 22. Three Promises (4) > End