It has already been three days since my encounter with the Mirageu, and not once have I found another chance to level up.
Honestly, it's such a terrible design—that the only reliable way to grow stronger is by grinding endlessly. No shortcuts, no steady progress unless I risk my neck fighting again and again.
Well… there are alternatives. Exp flasks. Small bottles filled with liquid light-green essence—pure experience points condensed into a usable form. But every time I think of them, my stomach turns. Those flasks aren't made from thin air. They're harvested… from the corpses of dead interlinkers. Someone else's failure, their last breath, their struggle—all reduced into a consumable shortcut for someone luckier or richer.
Sure, they're useful. They could push me straight past this stagnant wall I'm facing. But the thought of drinking one? It feels wrong. It's like spitting on their memory, like I'm feeding on what they lost.
Not that I can afford one anyway. Each flask costs 18 million pesos, or around 8 million gold in system currency. Outrageous either way.
And unlike games, aberrants here don't drop coins or neat loot for you to scoop up. In the Nexus Protocol, gold can only be found in scattered pouches hidden inside ruins or near dungeon sites. Three days in, and I haven't stumbled across a single one.
I have been spamming the Map and Scan commands for hours now, but the result is always the same—blank terrain, static markers, and silence. No animals. No birds. Not even insects buzzing through the leaves.
Aside from the Mirageu, I haven't seen a single sign of life. The forest feels hollow, as if something had swept through and erased everything that should have been living here. It isn't an exaggeration to say this place feels… dead.
My stomach keeps twisting from hunger. I can handle thirst thanks to the streams of fresh water scattered around, but food is another story. The only thing keeping me going are the patches of oyster mushrooms I managed to confirm safe using the Outline function. Without that, I might have poisoned myself already.
But mushrooms alone aren't enough. My supply is dwindling, and every time I chew the rubbery texture, I can feel my body screaming for something more substantial. I'm at my limit. If this continues, it won't be aberrants that kill me. It'll be starvation.
Out of all the places I could have landed on, it just had to be this empty, desolated forest.
I kept moving, my legs aching, trying to find something—anything—that could give me a chance. Even if it's dangerous. Even if it risks my life. Because how am I supposed to reach level 10 if I'm stuck in a barren land that has nothing to fight, nothing to harvest, and nothing to live on?
It was only when the silence became unbearable that I noticed… the trees. They weren't just tall. They were wrong.
Each trunk was unusually slender, almost too thin to support the impossible heights they reached. When I first climbed one to rest, I thought I'd eventually see the canopy. But I barely reached halfway before my arms and lungs gave out, and the top was still hidden somewhere above, shrouded in mist.
The bark was cold to the touch, unnaturally smooth in some places, as though something had scraped or polished them. When the wind passed through, it didn't sound like leaves rustling—it sounded like whispers threading between walls.
I couldn't shake the feeling that these weren't trees at all.
The mist… it wasn't normal. It was too consistent. A uniform gray veil that smothered the treetops, refusing to shift or scatter no matter how the wind blew.
I've been spamming [Map] and [Scan] all day, but maybe I've been looking at the wrong places.
The system only shows me what's around me—in front, behind, and at my sides. But what if… the reason I couldn't find anything in this forest isn't because it's barren?
What if everything's above me?
My chest tightened at the thought. The silence, the endless stretch of these unnatural trees, the gray mist clinging overhead… I had assumed the emptiness was a curse. But now, a different kind of fear crept in.
Maybe the forest wasn't empty at all. Maybe it was full—just not down here.
I tilted my head back, staring into the endless gray above the trees.
And for the first time since I landed in this realm, I wished I hadn't thought of that possibility.
I stared towards the grey mist above…
It was endless, stretching far beyond what my eyes could catch. A ceiling with no sky. A blanket with no sun.
My fingers twitched, gripping the dagger at my waist.
[Scan]
Nothing.
[Map]
Still empty, the same dead circle of fifteen meters, mocking me with silence.
But my gut—my Sense—was screaming. The mist wasn't just mist. It was too still, too heavy, as though it were watching back.
I narrowed my eyes. Was something inside it? Or worse… was the mist itself alive?
A faint sound reached me then. Not from the ground. Not from behind me.
Above.
A shift, like weight dragging across unseen branches, muffled and distant. The kind of sound you don't hear unless you're already listening for it.
My mouth went dry.
The realization settled in like a stone in my chest.
I hadn't been alone these past three days.
"haha…" I let out a slight chuckle out of the stupidest reasons.
[Inventory][Opened]
I grabbed my Veilpiercer and with my right hand ran it along the blade, elongating it into a curved hook. With my left hand I brushed down the hilt in the opposite direction, extending the handle until it resembled a pole.
From dagger to sickle.
Who knew a god's pendant could double as climbing gear?
Well—not that I'd call it a reaper's scythe. More like a warped farmer's sickle. Still, sharp enough, long enough.
I spun it once to feel the weight. Heavy, but manageable. The crescent edge gleamed faintly in the dull gray mist above, as though it were taunting whatever was hiding there.
"Alright… let's see if this works."
I planted my foot on the trunk of one of those tall, slender trees, the kind that looked more like poles than anything natural. The sickle hooked against the bark with a satisfying crack, holding firm.
And then I started climbing—towards the mist.
With each pull upward, the forest floor below shrank, and my unease grew.
The silence was louder up here.
Every now and then, I swore I could hear something shifting above me. Not the wind. Not branches. Something waiting.
Still, I kept climbing.
I kept climbing, inching closer toward the mist.
Climbing and climbing and climbing until… finally, my hand brushed against it.
The mist wasn't just fog. It was solid in a way—cold, heavy, clinging to my skin like a second layer of flesh. It pushed back, resisting me as though I wasn't welcome.
I froze for a moment, hanging there by the sickle, staring at that unbroken wall of gray.
If what lies above this mist is something that would endanger my life… then that would be better.At least then, I wouldn't be alone anymore.
I took a long breath, knees bent tight against the bark. My heart hammered so loud I swore the mist could hear it.
Three.Two.One.
"Here I go."
I dove headfirst into the mist.
The cold swallowed me whole. My ears popped instantly, and my lungs felt crushed as if the air was being wrung out of me. I couldn't see my own hands. Couldn't tell up from down.
It felt like I was falling, even though I had just jumped upward.
A second later, I really felt it—my stomach lurched as gravity took hold.
I was falling.
"Shit—was I wrong?!"
The realization punched through my chest. From this height, a drop would kill me instantly. My heart raced as the wind screamed past my ears, the cold mist dragging me faster, deeper.
I thrashed, scrambling, arms flailing through the thick gray wall, desperate to hold onto something—anything.
But there was nothing. Only the suffocating cold and the endless pull downward.
The sickle scraped at the air uselessly. I kicked, twisted, my fingers reaching out into the blank haze as if sheer desperation could conjure a branch, a rope, a miracle.
Still nothing.
The mist swallowed every sound I made. Even my own ragged breathing felt stolen from me.
My body kept twisting, rotating in directions I couldn't name.
Every pull tore at me—like invisible hands dragging me apart. It was painful, unbearable, like my limbs were being ripped into currents I couldn't resist.
I gasped, choking on the gray, and for a heartbeat it truly felt like I was drowning in an endless ocean with no surface, no air, no way up or down.
Then the mist thinned just enough for my eyes to widen in horror.
Below me—jagged spires, a sprawling bed of black thorns rising like spears, their tips glistening as if hungry for me.
My stomach dropped.
No… no, no, no—
They weren't roots. They were the crowns of those impossibly slender trees I'd been walking beneath.
But—how?!
If I had climbed up into the mist, then why was I falling down into the same direction?
The realization twisted in my gut like a knife. It was as if the world itself had flipped, turned me around, spun me 360 degrees without warning.
Gravity wasn't natural here.
This wasn't just falling. This was being swallowed by the rules of something else entirely.
As the sight of the thorns grew nearer, their needle-like tips gleaming in the mist, I forced my body to brace for the impact.
Maybe—just maybe—if I only got impaled once, I wouldn't die instantly.
A pathetic hope, but it was all I had.
Well… this is goodbye—
Before my thoughts could even finish, a voice cut through the howling rush of air.A woman's voice, sharp, commanding, almost divine.
"Golden Chains!"
From the fog to my left, light exploded—radiant links of golden chain bursting into existence, shooting toward me like a serpent of light.
In an instant they coiled around my body, wrapping me tight, squeezing with a force that knocked the breath out of me.
"Urk—!" I choked, my ribs protesting as the chain tightened, binding me from chest to ankle.
Then came the pull.
A violent, irresistible tug that yanked me sideways, tearing me from the trajectory of the thorn canopy. My body swung, thrashing, the mist whipping against my face as I was dragged toward the voice, the chains biting into my skin like they were alive.
I wasn't falling anymore. I was being reeled in.
I crashed hard into something unyielding.
A ground?
The realization barely registered through the haze of pain rattling my body. My breath ripped out of me in one sharp gasp as my chest hit the stone surface, the golden chains still binding me tight until they dissolved into faint sparks.
"Kh…!" I coughed, rolling weakly to my side. My lungs screamed for air, every breath like knives scraping my ribs. I barely managed to prop myself on one elbow, the cold stone biting through my skin.
Through blurred vision, I caught movement—someone rushing toward me.
A figure, cutting through the heavy gray mist like it wasn't even there.
Boots striking stone, chains still glowing faintly in her grasp.
I tried to speak, but all that came out was a hoarse rasp, my body too shocked to form words.
So I just lay there, gasping, every nerve raw, waiting for whoever—whatever—was about to reach me.
"Ha… ha… ha…"
Her panting drew closer, unsteady but determined. She must've sprinted the whole way to reach me.
Meanwhile, every muscle in my body screamed. My vision wavered, shapes bleeding into one another, but I could still make out the outline of her form.
What was that outfit?
A black robe split high at the leg, almost impractical, yet paired with heavy knight's boots that clanged against the stone. Not quite a knight then…? My eyes narrowed, struggling to focus.
Her hair—long, black, but not plain. Golden chains threaded through the strands, swaying like ornaments alive with their own rhythm as she rushed in.
She stopped just short of me, crouching low. Her voice, soft and careful, carried no trace of the commanding shout that summoned those chains earlier.
"Hey, hey… are you okay?"
I blinked up at her. Did I look okay? Really?
"What does it look like?" I croaked, my voice rougher than I intended.
"I–I apologize for… well, the sudden way I rescued you." She scratched the side of her head, smiling sheepishly, a nervous chuckle slipping out.
Crazy woman. You almost broke me in half.
"At least help me up…" I groaned.
"Oh—right, ha ha!"
She darted to my side and slipped an arm around my waist, hoisting me up with surprising strength.
"Hey, hey—what are you doing?!" I yelped, stiff as a board.
"What do you mean? I'm helping you walk," she said, blinking innocently.
"Yeah but—you're grabbing my waist! That's not… that's not proper!"
Her brows furrowed. "…Proper? We're both girls."
I froze. Right. Both girls. At least that's what she thought.
Meanwhile, her grip only tightened, like I was some damsel about to faint in a play. My face must've been bright red.
Sometimes I forgot I was in a female body—but the universe never missed a chance to remind me.
God, please. Kill me now. Or kill her. Just end this embarrassment.
She half-dragged, half-carried me through the mist until the faint glow of firelight flickered ahead.
"There—my camp. Don't worry, it's cozy!" she said cheerfully.
I glanced at her "cozy." From here it looked like three rocks around a campfire and a very questionable-looking tent. Great. Five-star nightmare resort.
As we got closer, I felt her grip tighten around my waist again."Uh… hey… you can let go now. I can walk."
She blinked at me, wide-eyed. "Are you sure? You still look pale."
"I'm always pale." I tried to wiggle free, but she just adjusted her hold—now practically carrying me like some wounded princess.
"Wha—HEY! This is worse! Put me down!" I hissed.
She tilted her head. "Eh? But you're light! Easier this way."
Light?! That's not the point!
I could already imagine how this looked: me dangling in her arms, boots scraping the ground, face burning like a tomato. If any other interlinker saw us, my reputation would be dead before the aberrants could finish me.
We reached the camp, and she finally lowered me onto a mat beside the fire. I sighed in relief—until she crouched next to me and started undoing the strap of my outer tunic.
"H-Hey hey hey! What are you doing?!"
She tilted her head again, completely serious. "You're hurt. I need to check for bruises."
I froze. My brain screamed.God. Universe. Whoever's listening. This is harassment.
Meanwhile she hummed softly, golden chains jingling in her hair, as if peeling my layers off was the most natural thing in the world.
She started to undo the strap of my outer tunic.
"With clothes this thin, how did you survive the cold?" she asked innocently, tugging at the knots with careful fingers.
I stiffened, trying to hold in my embarrassment as I watched her slowly unravel my upper body like I was some gift package.
As the fabric slipped loose, I immediately clamped an arm across my chest. "I–I would be fine…" I muttered, cheeks burning.
She paused, then smiled warmly. "Don't worry… I understand. Some girls are shy about showing their body."
I nearly choked on air. THAT IS NOT THE DAMN CASE!
Instead, I just hugged myself tighter, glaring. "Then you don't have to—"
But she cut me off, tilting her head as if I were the silly one here. "But you're hurt, aren't you? At least let me check for bruises. I promise, I've done this for many women in the real world before."
Real World? Many women?! WHAT KIND OF WOMAN IS THIS?!
I tried inching backward, but she gently pushed me back down onto the mat, her chains jingling as she leaned closer. Her expression was calm, professional even… but that only made it worse.
To her, this was medical care. To me… it was torture by embarrassment.
"Relax," she said kindly, brushing my hair aside like I was some child. "I won't tell anyone."
"Tell anyone WHAT?!" I snapped.
She blinked, confused. "…That you're shy?"
I buried my face into my knees. Kill me now. Just end me, aberrants.
"You know," she suddenly blurted out while dabbing ointment on my shoulder, "if any guys saw you right now, they'd be flustered… maybe even die from nosebleeds."
I froze, nearly choking on my own breath. "…What do you mean?"
Though… honestly, in my head, I never thought much of my face. Ugly maybe—at best plain. My body, sure, it had some beauty, but that was the system's choice, not mine. Who was I to judge a woman's appearance while pretending to be one?
She tilted her head, her long black hair brushing over one golden chain tangled through it, her strange yellow eyes catching the dim light. "Haven't you seen yourself in a mirror?"
I avoided her gaze, frowning. "...No."
Her face suddenly lit up, and to my horror, she clasped her cheeks like a fangirl. "I'm a model, so I've seen a lot of pretty girls before. But wow… seeing you up close feels unreal."
I blinked, dumbfounded. What in the world is happening…?
"I-I think you're exaggerating—" I started, but she leaned even closer, practically squishing my arm as she inspected me like some jewel on display.
"Nope! Perfect bone structure, balanced proportions, hair like silk—even your lips look like they came from an artist's brush! You'd crush on the runways back home!"
I slapped my free hand over my mouth, horrified. Runways?! What's next, a photoshoot in this hellhole?
Meanwhile, she casually lifted my arm to smear ointment over the bruises, humming happily like this was just another normal day.
"You're definitely the kind of beauty that makes even other women jealous," she added with a grin.
Great. Not only am I stuck in a girl's body, but apparently, I'm a supermodel too.
She pressed the cloth gently over my arm, her lips curving into a mischievous grin. "So tell me… are you always this careless, or was falling from the sky your first time?"
I winced. "It's… not like I planned it."
She giggled softly, her golden chains tinkling as she leaned closer. "You're really cute when you pout, you know? I bet the boys back in your world trip over themselves trying to get your attention."
My stomach flipped. "W-what makes you think that?"
Her yellow eyes sparkled. "Oh come on. A girl like you? No way you don't have suitors. Don't tell me you've never been confessed to?"
I stiffened. Oh no.
She gasped dramatically, pulling her hands to her mouth. "Wait! Don't tell me—you already have a boyfriend?"
"I—No! Definitely not!" I shouted, a little too quickly.
She raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Girlfriend then?"
I nearly choked on air. "Wha—?! N-no!"
She tapped her chin, pretending to think. "Hmm, so you're single. That's actually shocking… I mean, with your looks, if I were a guy, I'd be lining up at your door."
Please stop, I screamed internally. I'm not even a girl to begin with!
Then, without warning, she leaned in closer, her breath tickling my ear. "Or maybe you're just waiting for someone really special?"
My entire face went crimson. I quickly turned my head away, muttering, "Y-you ask way too many questions…"
Her laughter rang out in the camp, bright and teasing. "A shy one, huh? Adorable."
"So what is your name?" she asked as she handed me a furred tunic.
What was my avatar's name again? Ah—right."Regina," I said quickly, slipping the tunic on before she got any funny ideas again.
Her lips curled into a smile. "What a pretty name." She clasped her hands around mine with surprising warmth. "I'm Esther. It's also my real name."
I blinked. "Wait—you're using your real name here?"
"Of course," she said proudly. "If I'm going to risk my life, why should I pretend to be someone else?" She gave me a playful glance, tilting her head. "Besides, don't tell me 'Regina' isn't your real name?"
My heart skipped. Crap. "W-well, um… it's complicated…"
She chuckled, her golden chains swaying as she leaned closer. "Complicated, huh? I'll let you keep your little mystery." Then she gave my hand a squeeze before letting go. "But Regina suits you. You… look like a Regina."
I wasn't sure whether that was a compliment or a curse.