“Are you awake?”

A woman in a white coat looked down at me and smiled. Her face was unfamiliar. Above all, there was no one else around her. Instead of answering, I pulled out a white gun and aimed it at her. Slowly sitting up, I glanced around again.

The hospital room hadn’t changed.

“You’re very suspicious.”

“I just had surgery, and of all people, my younger brother should be here beside me.”

Unless an S-rank dungeon exploded near the hospital, there was no reason for him to leave. And if something that dangerous were happening, there wouldn’t be a stranger standing next to me.

“Even if they say they sent the kids out to keep things peaceful, Yuhyun would still be here. And right now, this isn’t even reality, is it?”

Suddenly, a chair appeared, and the woman sat. An instant later, a pair of glasses appeared at her fingertips, and she put them on almost carelessly.

“They said it was a truce period.”

She spoke softly. Between the one who drew a gun on her and this nonsense, why all the drama?

“I’m not on either side.”

“…You’re not?”

“Strictly speaking, I’m on the filth-spawn side. But that’s all been corrupted by now.”

Corrupted by now… could it be?

“You speak like someone from ancient times.”

“Huh? The language patch is up to date. Is it strange?”

“No—as you said, you’ve been corrupted. The Elder Chaos used to grumble like that, too.”

“That was too much.”

The woman shook her head.

“I’m much younger than Chaos. Although to you, we’re basically the same.”

“So. First, tell me who you are.”

“I’m the Lighthouse Keeper. That’s the closest term in your language. One of the original system creators.”

The Lighthouse Keeper. One of the first system makers.

“So you’re a remote senior to the rookies. Why have you come?”

“You’re not even surprised.”

“What’s there to be surprised about now? I know the basics: the Source tried to devour the world, so they made the system to stop it.”

“The initial system was a simple aid, but now it’s trying to act as a ruler.”

“If we destroy the system right now, even the Transcendents couldn’t intervene?”

“No. Besides, your world would be in big trouble without the system. The dungeons would vanish.”

The Lighthouse Keeper continued her explanation.

“Monsters would spill out everywhere. It’d be chaos. Even if Awakened descend, the low-rank ones would die easily, and the surviving mid-ranks would be stranded in the ruined society. If the civilization they relied on vanished in an instant, even top Awakened would suffer—morale would plummet, efficiency would drop.”

It’d literally be an apocalypse. Just the existence of dungeons made the system indispensable.

“As long as the Source exists and seeks to consume the world, it’s better to have at least a basic system. There are side effects, but at least until people adapt to the changes. Originally, the system was supposed to disappear in about ten years.”

“I’ve heard that, too.”

“So we were the best option.”

The Lighthouse Keeper said proudly.

“To help people protect themselves. To protect their own world, we sacrificed ourselves into the system.”

“…When you say you “sacrificed engineers,” I don’t think you mean it literally.”

“That’s why I can only awaken when serious bugs or exceptions occur. I woke once when this world’s system halted. I even handed over an egg of the Elemental Spirit then.”

Now that I think about it, at the Japanese dungeon, Yerim met a formally dressed woman who wasn’t a rookie. So that was the Lighthouse Keeper.

“So a bug must have occurred again.”

“This time it’s a bit more complicated.”

The Lighthouse Keeper furrowed her brow.

“The dungeon has become globalized.”

“…What?”

“That temporary dungeon. The one with only two sentient beings—it’s become an entirely separate world.”

That tiny dungeon with just two people… impossible.

“The dungeon created before regression…?”

My voice trembled slightly. The Lighthouse Keeper nodded.

“The dungeon made by the rookie, the Harmless King, and another rookie was sealed. Sealed dungeons normally fall outside the system’s protection and are then devoured by the Source.”

She said dungeons—and the worlds and monsters within—are Source power, so they should have been recalled.

“The system merely packages the Source’s power as a dungeon. Or rather, we—think of it like a huge aquarium catching water and fish. Before it overflows, challengers clean it up.”

“So a dungeon unmanaged by the system should have had its power return to the Source…”

“But it has remained intact. This has never happened in any of the Source’s worlds until now.”

Relief came first. That world was unharmed. But why?

“I don’t know the reason either. Only the Source can create worlds… yet why give life to such a small, temporary dungeon’s power?”

“You have no guesses?”

“One is the Source’s will. Some theories say the Source has a self; maybe it whimsically wanted a miniature world.”

It sounded random, and the Lighthouse Keeper clearly thought it unlikely.

“The other is someone capable of creating worlds with the Source’s power… which is even more impossible.”

“So basically you don’t know.”

“If I knew the exact reason, I wouldn’t be here.”

She stared at me expectantly. Even under that gaze…

“I only just learned that the dungeon became a world.”

“But you connected to it. To that world.”

“…What? I thought it was a dream.”

It hadn’t been a dream after all.

“Anyway, you said that dungeon, that world, is safe—unless the Transcendents meddle.”

“A newly born world’s barrier is strongest. Even the Young Chaos would need at least a thousand years to break in.”

“That’s good.”

Meaning no one, including me, could ever meet the two again. Bittersweet.

“But you connected.”

“I was inside it. Since I’m the same being, maybe there was temporary interference.”

Clack, the chair slid. The Lighthouse Keeper rose and looked down at me, as if examining my every cell. I almost shot her.

“No matter how I look, you’re just human.”

“Since we’re in a hospital, shall I do a genetic test?”

“My value has risen, but I’m fundamentally ordinary.”

“An ordinary firstborn of the Han family. The second child is a bit special.”

And Seong Hyunjae and Song Taewon were special from birth—Taewon didn’t want that kind of special. The Lighthouse Keeper sighed deeply and sat again.

“I can’t just leave this anomaly. Time is short. I’ll do system maintenance and sleep again.”

“Then tell me something. About Crescent Moon or Whitebird. Especially Crescent Moon… I heard they toy with people’s fates.”

At my words, the Lighthouse Keeper’s eyes went wide.

“Crescent Moon? I’d understand if it were the opposite. Crescent Moon had many reservations about the system. They felt uncomfortable that it interfered in people’s destinies under the guise of protecting them from the Source.”

…Isn’t that a namesake? I’m being toyed with, but they’re calling someone else suspicious.

“Even as an aid, once the system applies, people’s limits are set. Even if lifted after years or decades. Oracles are the same. Eventually, Transcendents give more opportunities to those they deem exceptional.”

So Crescent Moon was wary. How different from real Crescent Moon…

“They were once an ordinary human species like us.”

“Of course. We all were. I can’t share details—they’re private—but Crescent Moon was undeniably lovely.”

I recalled the pre-regression Crescent Moon shown by the jellyfish. Lovely… hmmm. Maybe the Lighthouse Keeper had strange tastes, or Crescent Moon had changed drastically.

“Cute and charming.”

Typical mechanical view. Quite a perspective.

“Whitebird was harder to read. They spoke little and often stood alone in a daze. No interactions, then suddenly visited me: “Chaos will give you a sword of fire, and you’ll meet Young Water,” they said.”

Fire must be Yuhyun, Water must be Yerim.

“They also made some requests I couldn’t refuse. Because they’re a future-seer.”

The Lighthouse Keeper scratched her cheek lightly.

“I pledged myself to the system, but I feared losing my identity. Whitebird said I’d meet Young Water in the distant future… meaning my self would endure until then. If that prophecy came true.”

So she had no choice. Future-seers are like that. Most have short lifespans.

Whitebird remained silent. Yet they’d done plenty. Having lived ages, maybe they spoke only once every few centuries.

The Lighthouse Keeper rose again. A faint glow spread from her feet.

“You’re surely related, but I lack time to investigate. I may not even reach.”

“Ask the rookie. I’m genuinely caught up in this mess. Even the chatterboxes and Transcendents are scheming against me. If I had Source-level power, I’d deal with them first.”

“It is all very strange. I hope not to see you again… though actually, I’d like to. It’s been so pleasant. Now, here’s something: the chatterboxes plan to draw the strongest person from your world.”

Overhearing while monitoring the system, she said. The strongest person… could it be Seong Hyunjae? A cult did approach him once. He won’t fall easily, but it’s worrisome…

Leaving with a promise to meet again, the Lighthouse Keeper vanished—and I opened my eyes. This time, Yuhyun was beside me.

“Hyung, are you okay? Any pain?”

“Uhh… I feel fine.”

I blinked. I felt no pain, yet couldn’t sense one of my legs at all.

“They couldn’t use analgesics, so they paralyzed it. You can’t move it for a day.”

Dr. Ho-yeon told me. With the cast up to above my knee, I really wouldn’t be able to move even if I felt alright.

“The surgery went well. Except for the paralysis, everything’s fine. Today stick to congee and take your meds. Some poisons can bypass resistance, they said.”

“Thank you, Doctor.”

“The cast is also to maintain paralysis, so it can come off tomorrow. After the paralysis wears off, walk carefully for a week.”

Dr. Kang Kyungho showed me images of my leg bones.

“Beautifully… no, perfectly aligned, right?”

He beamed, saying it was a flawless reconstruction. Having the uninjured and injured sides side by side, he sparkled, “You couldn’t even tell which was which.”

“I really can’t tell. Amazing!”

“It wasn’t easy to align, but I have an assist skill. It’s like a puzzle that shows the proper fit on the body.”

He could also suture the skin perfectly.

“The scar won’t be big.”

They reminded me to ring the bell if I felt any pain and left the room.

“Want me to bring you food? You hungry?”

— Yes, Dad. You must be hungry.

Gyeol flew from the sofa to the bed and said. Peace didn’t climb up; he sat on the floor below. The others, concerned about touching my leg, were placed in the indoor garden. The horned fox pressed close to the glass wall, gazing longingly at Peace.

“I’m not very hungry now. Ah, Yuhyun, want to doodle?”

“Huh? Doodle?”

“On the cast. Lots of people do it.”

When else would you get a chance? Hunters rarely bother with a cast. When mid-rank, they’d just use a potion. Yuhyun tilted his head.

“Here, here. They write things like ‘Get well soon’ or ‘Fighting.’ Give it a try.”

Hesitant at first, Yuhyun pulled a pen from his inventory. After thinking, he wrote on my cast:

[Love you, hyung]

…A bit embarrassing. Tomorrow the cast comes off anyway. Yuhyun looked at his writing and asked:

“Can I write more?”

“Of course.”

[Han Yuhyun, hyung]

He wrote that, then looked satisfied. Seeing that, Gyeol reached out.

— Can Gyeol write, too?

“Sure. Here’s a pen.”

The fairy took the pen as if born to hold it and scribbled:

[Dad, get well]

When did he learn ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) Hangul? It was crooked, but all the characters were correct.

Yerim, who came after school to visit, wrote [Uncle, stop kidnapping!] And that night, Hyun-ah Moon wrote [Daddy, fighting!] in big letters. It’s confusion enough as it is, but they went too far.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep