Game 25: The Price of Madness
The vault's silence cracked like old glass the moment the glowing script lit the air. The words didn't drift softly, oh no, each letter carved itself into space like a neon knife, humming with a faint metallic buzz. Dust motes swirled lazily as if gravity itself bent in respect, and Han Tae-yang (한태양) tilted his head, blinking like a man who'd just been handed the bill for a dinner he never ordered.
System Notification:
Fusion possible. To proceed, you must pay the appropriate price.
The message wasn't polite about it either. The text flared, pulsing red, before peeling open into a flood of cascading data that spilled like glowing rain across the display case. Rows and rows of unreadable glyphs scrolled downward faster than the eye could follow, each one clicking in his ears like a typewriter key. It wasn't just text, it was sound, vibration, weight pressing against his skin.
Tae-yang squinted. "Eh? Bro, why does it feel like my student loan just logged into the system?"
The vault reeked faintly of old incense and oxidized iron. The broken case glass glittered faintly against the marble floor, every shard reflecting the golden bell-bangle he held in one hand. He could smell old museum polish, mixed with the faint mildew of forgotten air. It was like standing inside history's armpit.
Then the message stabbed through the haze:
You have gained a unique skill: Copy.
Fusion difficulty to achieve: Immeasurable.
Description: By completing specific quests, you can copy and store the exclusive skills of other players in the world's memory and combine them to create stronger skills. However, the conditions for copying skills may change depending on the difficulty of the skill.
The words shimmered for a heartbeat, then etched themselves into his retina, like someone had tattooed it on the inside of his eyelids.
Tae-yang exhaled slowly. "Copy? …Wait, so you're telling me I just became the bootleg DVD version of everyone else? I'm basically the pirated skill shop on the corner street now?"
Before he could spiral deeper into that thought, a flicker of shadow crawled along the floor. His clone popped out of the darkness like a nosy roommate. Same messy hair, same smug face, same half-buttoned shirt that screamed I don't do ironing.
Clone Number One leaned in with arms folded, eyes narrowed. "Boss, the old man's cooked. Park Min-jae is at his limit. Dude's about to faint harder than a gamer during a heatwave."
Tae-yang clapped his hands once in mock prayer. "Finally! Took long enough. Dismissed!"
The clone saluted dramatically before sinking back into the ground, muttering something about unpaid overtime.
Outside the vault, Park Min-jae's ragged voice erupted. It wasn't calm or sage-like. It was raw, cracked, loud enough to rattle the dust from the ceiling beams.
"HEY! If you're done messing around, hurry it up! I can't hold on much longer!"
The shout carried a storm's weight. The old man's lightning magic buzzed faintly in the air, every bolt snapping against the protective wards he'd set up like a frying pan sizzling with oil.
Tae-yang blinked. His lips curled into a mischievous grin. "Hmm… copy skills, huh? What if I… oh-hoh… what if I copy his? That wrinkly thunder generator."
The system didn't wait long. The moment he aimed his focus toward Park Min-jae, a new message snapped open:
Copy condition detected.
Target: Park Min-jae.
Condition: Park Min-jae has always hidden his emotions behind a mask. Make him reveal his true feelings.
Tae-yang froze. Then laughed. A wild, sharp laugh that bounced across the cold vault walls. "Wait. Wait, wait. You mean I have to emotionally crack the old man? I have to… make him confess? What is this, a telenovela side quest?"
He slapped his thigh, nearly doubled over. "This world… unbelievable. You don't want me to beat him up. You don't want me to rob him. You want me to drag out his diary entries and trauma like some therapist?!"
His grin stretched wider. "Challenge accepted."
The golden bangle jingled in his hand. He tossed it once, caught it, and with each swing up and down, the bells rang faintly, their sound echoing unnaturally. The resonance wasn't soft; it thrummed through the marrow, vibrating in his chest like a bassline.
The air grew heavier. Not metaphorically. Literally. The vault's walls groaned as ancient wards responded, like a slumbering beast waking under his touch. Each artifact around him, vases, broken armor, tablets, shook faintly as if whispering secrets in tongues older than nations.
Then three artifacts, the bangle, the Persian tray tucked under his arm, and the stolen eye of Tutankhamun's mask, lit up in a sudden harmony. Their glow didn't just brighten the room. It rewrote it.
The marble floor blurred into a golden horizon. The ceiling cracked open into the vision of a vast sky, riddled with constellations that spun in impossible directions. Each star pulsed like a heartbeat. The sound was deafening, not loud but thick, like standing inside a cathedral bell as it tolled.
System Alert: Regardless of all possible failure states… you have successfully combined the artifacts.
Light converged into a spear, then shattered into fragments that melted into his palm.
You have received the artifact: Eye of Truth.
Difficulty to achieve: Immeasurable.
Description: You can see others' stat panels and detect lies or truths three times a day. The Eye of Truth is the greatest among the Five Eyes that exist in this world.
Tae-yang blinked once, twice. Then burst out laughing so hard his ribs hurt.
"The Eye of Truth? Oh my days! So I'm basically an ancient polygraph machine with bonus wallhack. Ha! Somebody call the FBI, I'm coming for their jobs."
He spun the glowing eye-shaped artifact in his hand, feeling its cold metal hum against his skin. The sensation wasn't smooth, it was sharp, invasive, like the gaze was turning inward too, poking around his thoughts with nosy fingers.
Yet his grin didn't fade.
Because another window slid open.
Hidden Quest Complete.
Condition: Combine three B-rank or lower replica artifacts into one S-rank or higher artifact.
Reward: The right to copy and store countless skills in this world, fusing them into stronger versions than the originals.
The letters shimmered, hanging in the air like an unfinished sentence.
And then, silence.
The vault dimmed, the constellations fading. Dust returned. The broken cases slumped back into ordinary ruin. Yet the air was still heavy, charged, brimming with the weight of what he'd just unlocked.
Han Tae-yang stood in the middle of it all, clutching the Eye of Truth which was already on his eyes, his grin half-crazed. His laughter had faded into a low chuckle now, the kind of sound you'd hear from someone who'd just stolen the crown jewels but was already planning to pawn them for snacks.
But something in the vault hadn't faded with the light. Something unseen shifted. Watching. Waiting.
And Tae-yang's eyes flicked upward, narrowing.
Because if the system was dangling this much reward, it meant one thing.
The real price hadn't even started yet.