Snow stood atop the roof of the building, the breeze gently tousling his dark hair as he watched the world below. From his vantage point, he saw Ruciel exit the building, her graceful figure soon greeted by her family's butler who opened the door to a sleek, black car. She was gone in seconds—just like that. A strange chill settled in Snow's chest, though the air wasn't particularly cold.
His thoughts drifted as he gazed at the city lights. Then, like an echo etched into the back of his mind, a mechanical notification flashed across his vision.
======================
ONGOING QUEST
======================
QUEST: The broken gem has been detected and requires various treatments to amend. Complete the sub-quests to achieve your goal.
CLEAR CONDITION: Make the gem acknowledge you.
REWARD: Dagger of Truth
PENALTY: Death
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➤ Sub-Quest:
Prepare an herbal bath that grants +2 Dexterity to soften the gem's internal structure for restoration.
REWARD: +20 Points
STATUS: CLEARED
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➤ Sub-Quest:
Acquire the listed herbs and poisons for the enhanced body potion.
REWARD: Body Strengthening Potion (C-Grade)
+20 Points
STATUS: CLEARED
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➤ Sub-Quest:
Craft a potion of at least B+ Grade using the gathered materials.
REWARD: Skill Card, Title, +10 Points
STATUS: CLEARED
----------------------------------------
➤ Sub-Quest:
Feed the gem the enhanced body potion.
REWARD: Skill Card, +15 Points
STATUS: Ongoing
NOTE: The gem's current attitude toward you is negative. If this persists, the main quest may fail regardless of progress made.
================================
Snow's grip on the railing tightened. His world felt like it was slowly collapsing. The memories came flooding back—he was once the son of a billionaire. A tragic car accident took his father's life, leaving behind only two things: him, and his younger sister. Together, they inherited a fortune meant to carry them through life. But what did he do with it?
He fell for Lola.
And it was a mistake.
Blinded by infatuation, he squandered the inheritance trying to please a girl who never truly cared for him. That choice tore him apart from his sister—his only remaining family—who now held the other half of their inheritance. He hadn't seen her since.
The regrets burned deeper now. Everything he had once owned—gone. All for someone who now looked down on him for being broke, for being a failure. And now, the system wanted him to pursue someone else? Someone who barely gave him a second glance?
Snow sighed, rubbing his face with one hand. "I can't possibly fall in love with her in just three days... right?" he murmured, his voice barely audible over the wind.
Still, there was one thing he hadn't given up.
Among the potions he'd crafted, he had kept one—the first legendary potion he'd ever made. Ironically, he'd named it after RUCIEL. Now, that name felt bitter on his tongue Knowing how he was looked down upon by her. Why had he done that? Why give such a precious creation a name that brought nothing but pain?
No... there were still things he had to fix. Chief among them—his relationship with his sister. The apology he owed her weighed heavier than any quest.
"Wait... now that I think about it..." Snow's eyes lit up with a spark of realization. "I still have that contact."
He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out his phone. His fingers moved quickly as he scrolled through his saved numbers, pausing at a familiar name.
A girl he once met. Her family owned an auction house. Perhaps she could help.
With a shaky breath, he pressed the call button.
Ring... Ring...
"||Hello||," a soft voice answered on the other end of the call.
"Hello... do you remember me?" Snow asked.
"||Of course, Snow||," the voice replied warmly.
"||So, how may I help you?||"
"I have a few items I'd like to auction. Do you think you could help me with it, Lisa?" he asked, his voice calm but deliberate.
"||I apologize, but the auction can't be held at the moment. The Hephaestus Auction House is hosting their event tomorrow||," Lisa replied, her tone regretful but firm.
"And what if I told you... I'm auctioning a potion almost considered an elixir?" he said slowly.
"And that there are only three of it in the entire world."
"||Such a rare potion... those are only found in S-Rank dungeons. All the hunters would go mad for it||," she exclaimed, unable to hide her surprise.
"Indeed. And with its healing properties, I'm sure if you propose a deal with Hephaestus, they might consider a collaboration."
"||You always bring me such tempting offers... very well. I'll see what I can do and give you feedback by morning||," she said, a hint of intrigue in her voice.
"Appreciated," Snow said sincerely.
"||And Snow||," she called out softly.
"Yes?"
"||I know you're hurting. So... please be careful.||"
"...Sure. Thank you. I will," he replied after a short pause, his voice low.
"||Alright. I'll keep in touch||," she said.
"Sure. I'll send one of the potions for registration and the necessary formalities."
"||Aren't you worried about it being stolen?||"
"Don't worry. I've already made sure that can never happen. Even if someone tried to drink it, they wouldn't be able to—not without my permission."
"||I see... and the confidentiality?||"
"Leave it as usual."
"||Very well. I'll give you feedback once everything is arranged||."
"Alright. Take care," he said with a faint smile as he ended the call.
Snow sat quietly on the rooftop floor, staring into the night. The silence was comforting—but his mind wasn't. He had lost everything, and now it felt like the system was the one dragging him along a preset path.
He thought about Ruciel.
When he granted her the wish he promised, what then? Would the system even allow him to form a real relationship? Or was it just another condition in a chain of quests?
He sighed, clearing the unnecessary thoughts away.
This time, he decided, emotions wouldn't get in the way. He would do what needed to be done—fulfill his goals, and leave it at that.
"Perhaps I should draft a contract," he muttered.
Soon after, he left the rooftop and returned to his room. He laid on his bed and, without realizing, drifted off to sleep.
His phone blared like an alarm the moment the sun cracked through the window.
He groggily picked it up.
"||Congratulations, Snow. Hephaestus has approved. They've decided to host their auction in our Auction House... with the condition that it's under their name||," Lisa said on the other end.
"Is that so?" Snow replied, sitting up.
"Doesn't that mean you're being robbed of your fame and reputation?"
"||Well... considering today was their official auction day, I suppose it was acceptable to make the deal||," she said.
"...Is something wrong with the old man?" he asked, his eyes narrowing. He knew Lisa too well. She'd never accept such a lopsided arrangement under normal circumstances.
"||...||" She didn't answer.
"I see. I'll be over there in an hour," he said and quickly got out of bed.
Exactly an hour later, Snow arrived at the Bright Hotel. He headed straight to the elevator and made his way to the very top—an exclusive residential area reserved only for the Bright family.
When the elevator doors opened, he was greeted by a beautiful young woman. Her complexion was pale, but her expression was calm and mature. She wore a uniquely tailored Chinese dress that clung gracefully to her curves—a traditional design that emphasized her family's refined heritage.
The Bright Family was one of the oldest lineages still standing strong, a name passed down through generations—even after the arrival of dungeons. In the past, they were known not just for their wealth or influence, but for their massive underground connections. Feared in the shadows, they moved silently through the cracks of power.
These days, however, the world only remembered them as a reclusive family dealing in rare artifacts and dungeon items. Despite fading from the public eye, their name still carried weight. They had become one of the most respected families on the global stage, all under the guidance of an old patriarch—now bedridden and gravely ill.
"I came as quickly as I could," Snow said as he stepped into the private wing of the Bright Hotel.
"You're as caring as ever," the young woman replied softly, her pale face calm and composed.
"It's fine. Just... take me to the old man."
Without another word, she nodded and led him down a quiet hall to a secluded room. Inside, only a single bed lay at the center, surrounded by members of the Bright family.
Wade Bright's eldest son stood at one side, his wife next to him. Beside them were his first grandchild and the youngest—everyone tense, watching silently as Snow rushed to the bedside.
"Gramps..." he called out.
But just as he approached, a red holographic screen flashed violently before his eyes.
======================
⚠ DANGER! DANGER! DANGER! ⚠
============================================
PATHFINDER HAS FOUND A PATH
============================================
PATHFINDER URGES YOU TO WALK THE PATH OF LIBERATION
============================================
QUEST: LIBERATION
The Pathfinder has revealed the path of LIBERATION. Walk this path and liberate the cursed soul before you.
CLEAR CONDITION: Uplift the curse.
PENALTY: Death.
REWARD:
Favorability with Ukris +50%
100 Points
Bonus Draw
======================
Lisa turned to him, her brows furrowed. "What is it, Snow?"
Everyone in the room looked at him, confused by his sudden outburst.
"What did Gramps do?!" he shouted, voice echoing off the walls.
"Hey, stop yelling!" the eldest granddaughter snapped. "This is not the time to cause a scene!"
"You're an S-Rank Hunter," he shot back, frustration boiling over. "How can you not see that Gramps is cursed?!"
Silence filled the room.
The young woman looked away, guilt swimming in her eyes.
"...We know," she finally said. "This wouldn't have happened if I hadn't gifted him that stupid necklace I bought."
"We've tried everything we could for the past four months," she added. "But nothing worked."
"Did you call the Saint?" Snow demanded.
"Yes, but she refused to attend to us," she replied bitterly.
"Hey, Iris... aren't you friends with her?" Lisa turned toward another girl.
"..." Iris looked away, unable to speak.
Snow stared at her for a long second, and then everything finally made sense. He exhaled deeply, the heat of his anger cooling into sorrow.
"...I see. I apologize for yelling and acting out," he said, his voice softer now. "It's just—Gramps... he was the only father figure I ever had. Seeing him like this... it's hard to stay calm."
"We understand, Snow," the old man's son replied.
Wade Bright had always been a man of principle—strict, yet kind to those who earned his respect. Snow had lost his own father early, and Wade, being his father's best friend, had stepped in. He'd looked after Snow and his sister like his own grandchildren.
Even after the two siblings split ways—and his sister moved to the U.S.—Wade's door had always remained open.
As Snow grew older, his connections remained subtly veiled. He kept his ties with the Bright family a well-guarded secret, ensuring no one knew he was the son of Julius Quincy, the Bright family's closest friend. The world remained oblivious to the truth, and that suited him just fine.
Now, standing before Wade and his wife, Snow couldn't help but feel a sense of sympathy for them. The past four months had been nothing short of a nightmare, with tragedy striking their family from all sides. Wade's father was on his deathbed, barely hanging on, his body worn down by the relentless poison coursing through his veins.
Snow's gaze softened as he noticed Wade's pale features, the weight of despair heavy on him. His wife, Iris, looked no better, torn between her hope for a solution and the reality of their situation.
"Do you still have the necklace?" Snow asked, his voice calm yet tinged with urgency.
Iris hesitated, her eyes shifting before she slowly nodded. "Y-yes," she stammered, reaching into her pocket to retrieve it. Snow inspected the necklace, noting the dullness it had acquired over time. A deep sigh escaped his lips.
"What is it?" Lisa inquired, her brow furrowing.
"I was hoping it could aid in lifting the curse," Snow said, his voice fading as he examined the trinket, "but it seems there's no use for it anymore."
Before the conversation could go further, a thought struck him like a sudden flash of memory. He turned to Lisa, his expression serious.
"Lisa, do you still have the potion I gave you?" he asked.
Lisa's face darkened, her voice steady. "Not anymore. It's in the custody of Hephaestus."
Snow's eyes narrowed, his mind working quickly. "It's fine. Go retrieve it. Terminate the deal with them. If they ask, tell them 'The Mask says so.'"
Iris looked worried. "Given the rarity of that potion, I fear they might not return it. They could stir up trouble."
Snow shook his head, his resolve firm. "That won't be necessary."
He walked past them, his pace quickening as he neared the bed where Wade's father lay, his body weak and deteriorating. The air around him seemed to thicken, the presence of the poison so intense that Snow could feel its sting in the air itself. As he stepped closer to the old man, Snow's own body began to succumb to its effects.
Finally, standing at the bedside, Snow retrieved the potion, a vial of deep, clear liquid. With a steady hand, he poured it into the man's mouth, watching as the magic of the elixir began to take effect.
Iris's voice cut through the silence. "That potion only heals. It has no effect on curses."
But just as she spoke, something extraordinary happened. The room, once dim and oppressive, suddenly brightened. The curse was lifted in a flash, the darkness vanishing as though it had never existed.
The world seemed to pause. A notification blinked into existence before Snow's eyes.
======================
CONGRATULATIONS, QUEST CLEARED
============================================
QUEST CLEARED
The pathfinder has created a path of LIBERATION. Walk upon this path and liberate the cursed soul before you.
CONDITION FOR CLEARING: Uplift the curse
PENALTY: Death
REWARD:
FAVORABILITY WITH UKRIS INCREASED BY 50%
100 POINTS
BONUS DRAW
======================
Snow's focus shifted back to the man in front of him. The old man's skin regained its color, and a youthful vigor returned to his face. It was as if the years had melted away in the span of a single breath.
The room filled with a collective sigh of relief as everyone watched the miracle unfold. Slowly, the old man's eyelids fluttered open, revealing clear, sharp eyes.
Snow took a step back, allowing the family to embrace the man who had once been a father figure to them all. A sense of contentment washed over him, knowing that he had fulfilled his promise and saved the man who meant so much to them.
As the moment stretched on, Snow felt a subtle pull at his thoughts. He realized it was time to step outside for a breath of fresh air. Just as he turned to leave, a voice called out to him.
"Snow."
He stopped in his tracks, his name lingering in the air, and slowly turned toward the sound.
"Gramps," Snow murmured, his voice thick with emotion, struggling to hold back the tears that welled up in his eyes.
He stepped closer to the old man, who now looked no older than forty, despite having appeared eighty just moments ago. Snow's heart swelled with gratitude and overwhelming feelings of relief. His hands had worked miracles, and now, standing before him, was the man who had once been a figure of wisdom and care—rejuvenated, restored to life. Unable to hold back any longer, Snow threw his arms around the old man, tears flowing freely as he cried into his shoulder.
The room grew quiet, the others quietly slipping away, leaving them alone. For what seemed like hours, they spoke—sharing stories, laughter, and tears. In those moments, Snow opened up, revealing the weight he carried, the pain of a boy who had been used and cast aside by others.
The old man's eyes softened with understanding. "Are you really sure you don't want to reveal your identity as the adoptive son of the Bright family?" he asked gently.
Snow pulled back slightly, wiping his tears. "It's fine, Gramps," he said, his voice steady but full of conviction. "I don't want to burden the Bright family with my life. I'm just learning to stand on my own, and one day, I hope to share that with them."
The old man nodded slowly, as if contemplating his words. "I see. So, do you have a plan?"
Snow's eyes brightened. "I'm planning to open a business soon."
The old man raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "What kind of business?"
Snow glanced down at the table beside him, picking up a white plate with four red apples. He began peeling them slowly as he spoke. "I've picked up a few skills lately—alchemy. I was hoping to sell what I create."
"And you plan to use the Bright family's business as a front for it?" Gramps asked, a knowing look in his eyes.
Snow paused, the apple skin falling away in delicate ribbons. "Well, yes. The potions I make could attract attention. But they're just practice for now. Eventually, I might be able to create potions of even higher caliber."
The old man's eyes widened. "Wait... were you the one who made the potion that cured me?"
Snow gave a bright, confident smile as he offered the peeled apple to the man. "Yes, Gramps. What do you think of my skill?"
The old man took the apple, still speechless, his hands trembling slightly as he processed the shock. A potion of such high quality had been used to heal him, and Snow called it 'just practice.' The realization hit him like a wave—the boy who had once seemed uncertain and fragile was now becoming someone truly remarkable. The future held great things for him, and the old man couldn't help but feel a surge of pride.
"I think it's wonderful," he said, his voice warm with approval. "I'll make sure everything you need is in place."
Snow's smile widened, the weight of the future suddenly feeling much lighter. They continued to talk for hours, a bond between them growing stronger with every word.
Eventually, Snow knew it was time to leave. As expected, the Hephaestus Auction House refused to return the potion, demanding that Snow, known only as "The Mask," come to clarify the situation before the auction could take place. With a sigh, Snow made his way out of the Bright family estate, accompanied by Iris, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.
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to be continued...