Nam Yu-ri was a character with multiple story branches. Depending on the player’s choices, she could become an enemy—or a companion—of the protagonist, Kang Han-byeol.
That’s why she had not just one, but two different endings.
One as an enemy, the other as a companion.
‘The problem is, no matter which ending you choose, it’s always a bad one.’
To make things worse, both led to the end of the world.
In one route, Nam Yu-ri succumbs to the temptation of the Demons, drops out of the Academy, and becomes a villain.
「Nam Yu-ri」
“So this is it? After all this time using me, this is all you’ve got? Clan leader, this is no fun at all.”
She annihilates the Alchemy Clan of Nam, turning all who oppose her—family included—into grotesque chimeras.
With her army of chimeras and the Demons at her side, she launches an invasion on the world.
Humanity cannot stop them. The world ends in ruin.
‘And then she suddenly dies of natural causes, and the words “Bad Ending” flash across the screen.’
In the companion route, things weren’t much better.
「Nam Yu-ri」
“Kang… Han… Byeol…?”
Through the Alchemy Clan’s twisted experiments, Nam Yu-ri becomes a horrifying chimera.
Bit by bit, her sense of self deteriorates until she loses control entirely—devouring Kang Han-byeol and eating his corpse, completing her transformation.
The world meets its end once again. This is known as the “Kang Han-byeol Consumption Ending.”
‘Thankfully, that ending isn’t guaranteed—it only triggers if you choose the wrong branch after recruiting her.’
So I had a plan: bring Nam Yu-ri into the party—not as an enemy.
If she turned hostile, the world would fall without question. But as a companion, at least there was a chance to avoid destruction.
And I, who knew every branch of the story like the back of my hand, would make sure that the Consumption Ending never came to pass.
With that resolve, I prepared for the game of questions.
“I’ll pick the next one,” Nam Yu-ri said, humming a little tune.
Swaying playfully to the rhythm, she reached for the cards.
“Picking from the top every time is boring. This time, I’ll choose from the middle. That okay?”
“Do whatever you want.”
“Oooh, how flexible. Thanks.”
Nam Yu-ri was whimsical by nature.
That made her unpredictable—and someone you should never try to control.
Trying to interfere or direct her before she opened up would only make her push back.
She might take it as a personal attack and turn hostile in a heartbeat.
Even if she joined the party, it was something to always keep in mind.
‘Reality isn’t a game, after all.’
In a game, a party member is yours forever. But in real life?
People can leave.
You had to keep tending to the bond. It required constant care.
In that sense, Nam Yu-ri was both high-maintenance—and, paradoxically, easy.
“These questions are getting boring. Let’s shuffle the deck.”
“I was thinking the same thing! Maybe we’re more alike than I thought.”
Nam Yu-ri acted on impulse, always looking for excitement and novelty.
She hated routines and craved the unusual, the fresh, the unexpected.
If you understood the psychology behind her behavior, gaining her favor was surprisingly simple.
Shffff—
“Ooh, you’re good at shuffling!”
“I’ve had some practice. Used to duel.”
“Duel? What’s that? Sounds fun!”
“I’ll show you next time if we get the chance.”
“Really!? I’m looking forward to it!”
Even the smallest flicker of curiosity was enough.
All I needed to do was feed her a spark of interest, just enough to break the routine.
As long as I stacked those moments carefully, building a genuine bond, she’d follow even the most reckless commands one day.
With that in mind, I exaggerated my card shuffling just to catch her eye.
And her violet eyes sparkled with excitement—just from that.
“I’ll draw now.”
“What’d you get?”
‘If you play rock-paper-scissors, what do you think you’d throw first?’
“What do you think you’d choose?”
“What about you?”
“Hm… I guess scissors?”
“Then I pick rock.”
“What?! That’s cheating! You asked just so you could beat me!”
“No one told you to answer. I don’t fight battles I’m going to lose.”
“Take it back! I’m picking paper!”
“Then I go with scissors.”
“Again! I switch to rock!”
“This’ll never end. Why not just play for real?”
“Ooh, fun! It’s been a while. I’m totally going to win.”
“Just one round. No take-backs. Ready? Rock, paper, scissors!”
“…I win!”
“Says who? It’s not over yet.”
“Huh? I threw paper, so I won!”
“You still have to win at ‘Rock-Paper-Scissors Tag’ too.”
“What? That’s a thing?”
“Yeah, it’s how it’s played now. Come on, hurry.”
“Ugh! Scissors—rock! Argh!”
“Looks like I win. My turn now.”
“Bring it on! I’ll—!”
“Rock, paper.”
“Cheating again?!”
“Life’s cruel. If a monster ambushed you, would you say it wasn’t fair?”
“Ugh… fine, I admit it. But only if we play again!”
“I’ve got more people to get signatures from. We’ll have a rematch at the Academy.”
“Just once more—fine! But you better promise!”
“Wanna make it a lunch bet next time?”
“Lunch bet? Ooh, sounds fun!”
“Alright, your turn. Draw.”
‘If you could have one wish granted, what would it be?’
“What would you wish for?”
“Hmm… nothing comes to mind. Wait! I want to play rock-paper-scissors with you!”
“That’s a pretty modest wish.”
“What about you, Gyeon-woo Gyeon-woo?”
“…Do you have to call me that?”
“I’ll let you call me Yu-ri Yu-ri!”
“My wish, huh…”
“Oh, you’re ignoring me again!”
“I want to graduate from the Academy.”
“You haven’t even enrolled yet. You really want to be a Hunter that badly?”
“I just… think life would be easier. Not that you’d understand. I’ll draw the next one.”
“I think I get it. You want a license so you can live freely in the Divine Sword Pavilion, right? I wouldn’t want that. What’s the next one?”
‘If you could become someone else for a day, who would you be?’
“Who would you want to be?”
“…A burly guy with big muscles, dyed blond hair, tanned skin—something like that.”
“That’s oddly specific. Why him?”
“Because he’s manly.”
“Hmm… I guess.”
“You’re still too young to get it. You’ve never had a crush, have you?”
“Gyeon-woo Gyeon-woo, we’re the same age.”
“But I’m mentally older.”
“What? I bet you’re younger.”
“Nope. If you ever start liking someone, you’ll understand muscles and blond hair.”
“Don’t think so…”
“You’re still a kid.”
“Then what do you look for in someone?”
“I…”
“Yeah?”
“Let’s keep playing the game.”
“Hey! You can’t dodge the question!”
“I’ll tell you when you fall for someone.”
“Promise!”
“So, who would you be for a day?”
“Hmm… Gyeon-woo Gyeon-woo?”
“That sounds made up…”
“Nope! I just want to know what’s going on in your head!”
“…Let’s move on. Your turn.”
“Okay! Drawing!”
‘What do you do when you’re sad or annoyed?’
“What do you do?”
“Well, I can’t just kill random people, so… I go into artificial gates and kill monsters until I calm down.”
“…That’s kind of terrifying.”
“It’s the only way I know. What about you, Gyeon-woo Gyeon-woo?”
“I swing my sword… or meditate.”
“Very Divine Sword Pavilion of you.”
“Well, I am from the Pavilion. Also…”
“There’s more?”
“I take walks. Being outside, breathing fresh air—it clears my mind. Or I eat something delicious.”
“Hmm. I’ll try that next time. Next!”
“My turn.”
“What’s the question?”
‘Do you dip your sweet and sour pork, or pour the sauce over it?’
“What about you, Gyeon-woo Gyeon-woo?”
“I’ll tell you if you go first.”
“I’m…!”
And so, we kept talking—back and forth, like that.
“That was fun! Here, take this!”
“Here’s your card too.”
Thanks to Nam Yu-ri’s unusually good mood, the conversation flowed effortlessly.
After finishing all ten questions, she looked genuinely happy.
She handed me a card with her signature scrawled across the bottom.
Beneath the symbol for the Melting Sea Dormitory, her name was written in bold.
“The first box was annoying ‘cause of that long name, but even that was kind of fun!”
“You could’ve used the third box instead of the second… but if you enjoyed it, that’s all that matters. I’ll get going.”
“Okay! See you! And don’t forget our promise, okay?”
“I won’t. See you after we pass.”
“Gyeon-woo Gyeon-woo too!”
Just eight more signatures to go.
I waved goodbye to Nam Yu-ri and went off in search of the next person.
Then—
“Oh! Wait, Gyeon-woo Gyeon-woo.”
“What?”
Nam Yu-ri called out to me, as if something had just popped into her mind.
I stopped in my tracks and turned back.
She was holding out a cup, one she’d received from a passing aide.
“For good luck—since I want you to pass—I’ll tell you something special.”
“….”
Nam Yu-ri gently stirred the liquid in her glass.
The drink swirled and rippled under the soft motion of her hand.
Then, without hurry, she took a small sip.
“There’s something in this drink that acts on the central nervous system,” she said calmly. “It’s such a tiny amount that no one seems to have noticed.”
“…Are you saying it’s poisoned?”
“Well… that depends on how you define poison. But not the kind you’re thinking of, Gyeon-woo. If it were that type of poison, you would’ve noticed it too. You and I both grew up in noble families. We’ve been trained to develop resistance by ingesting trace amounts of toxins from a young age, right?”
She spoke in a bright, almost cheerful tone.
And she wasn’t wrong.
Not every noble house followed that tradition—but many did.
The Divine Sword Pavilion was one of them.
Even if my mother disapproved, the meals served at clan gatherings always contained trace poisons.
Harmless in the short term, perhaps. But some compounds were unpredictable.
Since Ye-eun and I were required to attend those gatherings regularly, we had no choice but to consume them.
My mother, always cautious, had taken to adding minuscule doses of toxins to our daily meals, just in case.
‘She eats them too now.’
Back then, when she had no choice but to attend and dine, she’d take the family’s detoxifying elixir beforehand.
But after she cut her hair—perhaps as a symbol of change—something shifted.
She began using her internal mana to filter out toxins, refusing the antidotes entirely.
In any case—
“If it’s not poison, then what is it?”
I waited for her answer.
Nam Yu-ri finally replied, voice clear and clinical.
“From my analysis, it looks like the drink contains benzodiazepine compounds—stuff like diazepam, triazolam, rohypnol…”
“….”
“You don’t get it, huh?”
“Try saying it in simpler terms.”
“They’re sleep-inducing agents. Basically, sleeping pills.”
“You could’ve just said that from the start. But still… if they’re from that class of drugs, I should’ve sensed something.”
“They were probably developed independently for this test. Custom-made by the evaluators. Though… judging from the compound formula, I’d bet our family advised them on it.”
“…If the Alchemy Clan of Nam helped, that explains why it slipped past me.”
“We’re pretty well-known in this field, after all.”
“Any effects other than sleep induction?”
“Not that I’ve found. But the effect’s strong. It absorbs slowly into the body, so it’s hard to notice at first. But once it builds up, it’ll start kicking in—probably right around the time this banquet ends.”
“….”
“And it’s not just the drinks.”
“…Don’t tell me.”
“Yup. It’s in all the food served in this hall.”
“….”
“Even the supply pantry had traces. I don’t know what the evaluators are planning, but isn’t it exciting?”
Not at all.
My expression soured.
I hadn’t even considered that the hotel food and drinks would be drugged.
‘I need to flush this stuff out of my system—fast.’
I prepared to circulate mana through my body.
But then Nam Yu-ri spoke with quiet finality.
“Don’t bother.”
“…?”
“That formula isn’t something you can neutralize with the techniques you know. I might be the only one among the examinees who even noticed.”
“Then why not go all the way and share the formula too?”
“No way. That’d ruin the fun.”
“….”
“Even if I don’t like my family, I can’t just hand out their prized research for free. It’s too valuable—and besides, it’s hard to put into words. It’s not like it’ll kill you. Just accept it.”
“You’re not going to neutralize it?”
“Nope. I want to see what the evaluators are up to. Doesn’t it sound fun?”
This was Nam Yu-ri.
A girl who sought out ‘stimulation’ for the sake of entertainment—who would willingly walk into danger, just to see what might happen.
Utterly unpredictable.
Nothing like Do Gyeon-woo, who preferred minimizing risk wherever possible.
‘No use arguing.’
Knowing her nature, trying to talk her out of it was pointless.
So I settled for being grateful she told me at all.
“…Thanks.”
“Good luck on the test!”
She waved with a radiant smile.
Turning away, I left her side, deep in thought.
‘What are they really planning?’
Not a word of this had been told to the examinees.
Why were the evaluators trying to drug us into sleep?
If they simply wanted us unconscious, they could’ve just offered us sleeping pills openly.
Why hide it?
Only one possibility came to mind.
‘They want to catch us off guard.’
But why?
What would they gain from surprising us?
Were they planning to release monsters into the hotel for a sudden ambush?
‘If that were the case, they could just wait until we’re asleep and launch the attack. No need for drugs.’
In fact, using sleep aids was risky.
Examinees under their influence would be unable to react. If a real monster appeared, some might die without ever waking up.
No competent evaluator would overlook that possibility.
‘So it’s not an external ambush… but an internal one?’
But what did that mean?
My thoughts raced, connections forming on instinct.
The fourth practical exam.
Rooms divided by rank.
The food laced with sedatives.
The eerie, out-of-place portraits on the walls.
And this strange venue—the Dream Hotel.
Pieces clicked together.
“….”
A single theory emerged in my mind.
The fourth practical exam…
‘…takes place inside a dream.’
And I was almost certain.
It made too much sense.
I needed to tell Yeon-ha-neul.
I turned, scanning the banquet hall.
“She’s gotta be around here somewhere…”
Leave a Reply