The victory over Tae-min left a strange taste in Kim-Do's mouth. It was not the euphoria of triumph, but the metallic scent of anxiety. Kang Seong and his enigmatic smile. Lee Min-Ji and his outstanding questions. Every glance at him now seemed to carry a silent questioning. He had gained respect, but lost in invisibility.
The rest of the day unfolded in stifling tension. In science class, he felt the weight of Kang Seong's gaze, fixed and analytical, burning his neck. As he walked through the courtyard, he saw Lee Min-Ji, who, while talking with another student on the council, was following his movements out of the corner of his eye. It had become a specimen under a microscope.
The end-of-day bell sounded like a liberation. He rushed to the lockers, hoping to escape before anyone spoke to him. But Choi Yu-Ra was waiting for him, his bag already curled, a glimmer of anxiety in his usually determined eyes.
"Boss," she began as they left the main building. "Your method today... it was different."
Kim-Do's heart missed a beat. "Different?" he repeated, trying to keep his tone neutral.
"Yes. Less... direct." She squinted, searching for her words. "The real Kim-Do would probably have beaten both to make sure he wasn't wrong. You used your head. It was smart."
There was a tinge of admiration in his voice, but also a hint of confusion. Yu-Ra's loyalty was unconditional, but it wasn't stupid. She knew her leader better than anyone, and every little difference was in her mind like a missing piece of a familiar puzzle.
They walked silently for a moment, crossing the busy streets around Ganguk High. Then Yu-Ra stopped in front of a small, modest-looking noodle restaurant. You always said that their jjajangmyeons were the best people to regain strength after a day of fighting."
It was a test. Subtle, but a test nonetheless. Kim-Do felt a cold sweat beading behind his back. He had no memory of this place, nor of this so-called culinary preference. He glanced quickly inside the restaurant, crowded and noisy. A nest for glances, for potential conversations.
"Not tonight," he said, hoping his voice wouldn't shake. "I... I'm not hungry. I'd rather go home."
Yu-Ra's face closed slightly. "Okay. Whatever you say, boss."
The disappointment was palpable. It was a small thing, an insignificant detail, but it was a flaw. A tiny crack in his imposter armor.
Alone in the room that was not his, anguish overwhelmed him. He collapsed on the bed, his hands trembling. He was exhausted. Exhausted from playing, exhausted from lying, exhausted from being afraid. The walls seemed to be approaching, stifling it. He closed his eyes, desperately searching for his own mother's face, the sound of his own voice, any anchor in reality that was his. But everything was blurred, drowned in a fog of foreign images and stolen sensations.
I'm not going to make it. They're all going to find out about me. It's a matter of time.
It was then that a familiar pain pierced his skull, stronger than the previous ones. He curled up on himself, a muffled groan escaping him. It wasn't a flash this time, it was a torrent.
The real Kim-Do, perhaps twelve years old, standing in front of a modest house, very different from the Spartan apartment he now occupied. A woman with a tired face, but a soft smile, handed him a snack. "Be careful, my son." Then the image changed. The same woman, bedridden, pale-faced. The pungent smell of medicines. The feeling of immense, overwhelming debt. The whispered promise: "I will become strong. Strong enough that no one despises us anymore. Strong enough to pay for everything. "The shame of poverty. The rage of impotence. That was the engine of the real Kim-Do. It was not the thirst for power for power, it was a visceral need for control, born out of despair.
The vision dissipated, leaving him panting on the bed, his cheeks wet with tears that were not quite his own. He had felt each other's pain, his shame, his brutal determination. And some of that anger, that fear of falling back into nothingness, seeped into him, mingling with his own terror.
VZZT.
The system appeared, as a relentless guardian.
"'
Synchronicity analysis: 10%
[Host emotions detected: Despair, Anxiety, Anger.]
Personalized query: overcoming angosa
Objective: Find a way to deal with the stress of concealment before tomorrow morning.
• Reward: "Emotional Camouflage" (Level 1) - Ability to temporarily mask your incongruous emotions.
• Failure: Increased risk of panic attacks in public. Immediate exposure.
"'
A quest for his sanity. The system was not just pushing him to perform; it was monitoring his psychological state. Failure was no longer a mere abstract penalty, but the promise of a public break.
He stood up with his legs flagging. He had to get out. Breathe a look that was not imbued with lies. He put on a hood and left the apartment, blending in with the anonymous evening crowd.
He walked aimlessly, leaving the city's hum to overwhelm him. The lights of the neon lights, the sound of traffic, the laughter of passers-by... everything seemed unreal to him, as if he were looking at the world through a thick window. He was alone. More alone than he had ever been.
At the corner of a street, he came across a small deserted park. On a bench, an old man was feeding pigeons. Without thinking, Kim-Do sat at the other end of the bench, staring at the void.
"Heavy, burden, huh, young man?" said the old man suddenly without looking at him.
Kim-Do jumped. "Excuse me?
"The weight you carry on your shoulders," said the old man, throwing a handful of seeds. As if the ground was going to slip under your feet with each step."
This simple mark of compassion, coming from a complete stranger, nearly broke his last ramparts. He had a crazy desire to tell everything. To shout that he wasn't Kim-Do, that he was lost, terrified.
But he fell silent. The risk was too great.
"We do what we have to do," he whispered, repeating a phrase he had heard in one of his flashes.
The old man nodded, with a wise smile on his face. "Sometimes doing what you need to do is just surviving the day. And sometimes it's already a lot."
They sat silently for a long time, until the old man got up and left, leaving the pigeons for company only.
Watching the birds fight for the crumbs, a cold resolution was born in him. The old man was right. Surviving was the priority. And to survive, he had to master his emotions. He had to learn how to become a ghost in Kim-Do's shoes.
He went home, his mind a little clearer. He sat cross-legged on the floor and closed his eyes, focusing on the memories of the real Kim-Do. On its coldness, its control. He imagined his own fears, his doubts, like water flowing through a watertight bucket, and then sealed the lid.
VZZT.
"'
[Question accomplished: overcoming angosa]
+ Emotional Camouflage skill (Level 1) unlocked.
USE: Activate it consciously for 10 minutes. Charging time: 1 hour.]
"'
It was not a glorious victory. He hadn't beaten anyone. But he had won a gun. A tiny, fragile, but vital weapon.
The next morning, as he was preparing for another day, he met his reflection in the mirror. The brown eyes stared at him, still cold. But this time, instead of panicking, he took a deep breath.
"Emotional camouflage, activated," he whispered.
A strange sensation invades her, like a layer of ice covering her emotions. The fear was still there, lurking deep inside, but it was stifled, distant. His face relaxed, adopting perfect neutrality. His shoulders straightened up.
Opening the door, he found Choi Yu-Ra waiting for him, a little stilted.
"Boss, let's... let's go to the noodle restaurant today?" she asked, a shy hope in her voice.
Kim-Do looked up at her, her gaze turned into a straight mirror. A small, calculated, cold smile touched his lips. The real Kim-Do's smile.
"Of course, Yu-Ra," he said, his voice perfectly controlled. "Let's go. I'm as hungry as a wolf."
The amazement, then an obvious joy, lit up the girl's face. Great!"
As they went down together, Kim-Do felt Kang Seong's gaze, stationed as usual at the entrance to the building. This time, the observer did not smile. His face remained perfectly neutral, but his eyes, behind his glasses, crept imperceptibly, as if he had just noticed a change much deeper and more dangerous than any previous quirk.
The ice was broken. The imposter had just gone one step further in the shadow of the hero. And the shadow, he discovered, was as dangerous a place as light.