DISCLAIMER: The author's imagination and passion are the only sources of inspiration for this novel, which is a work of dedication. Parallels between these pages and the past or present may be apparent to some readers, but they are completely coincidental. You are free to interpret this art anyway you see fit, and it is meant for your enjoyment.
Ji-Hoon's date was a struggle against reality itself, but Giywon's was a struggle against the weather.
When Reinn woke up the following morning, the library had changed. The dusty scrolls and heavy oak tables had been moved to the outside. They were replaced with a sleek, obsidian console that hummed with a gentle blue light and two comfortable, white leather chairs.
Ji-Hoon said, "Good morning, Samantha," without taking his eyes off his iPad. "I've analyzed the data from yesterday. Your cortisol levels were elevated by the Prince's incompetence. Today, we are focusing on Optimization." He was wearing a clean white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, which is the universal symbol for "Casual CEO."
Reinn arched an eyebrow and said, "Optimization? Is this what we're calling a date now?"
"In reality, time is the only non-renewable resource," Ji-Hoon said, turning to face her at last. Behind his spectacles, there was a spark of something almost bashful, but his gaze was analytical and hard. "I want to give you back the things you lost. Things that no magic spell can recreate."
In the console, he tapped a command.
Their surroundings vanished. The Hylde Manor's stone walls fragmented into a thousand points of light rather than simply vanishing. Reinn was standing on a Gangnam rooftop a heartbeat later.
It smelled like rain on hot asphalt and the sweet, yeasty smell of a local bakery instead of pine and woodsmoke. The neon glare of buildings penetrated the deep indigo sky. The muffled roar of traffic beneath them was a familiar, far-off ocean.
Ji-Hoon said, "I pulled the topographical and atmospheric data from your memory files," and moved to stand next to her. Against the backdrop of steel and glass, he seemed quite at home. "It's a closed-loop simulation. For the next three hours, you aren't a Lady or a Lioness. You're just Samantha Lim."
He guided her to a table covered in white linen. It had a bottle of chilled Soju and a steaming dish of Jjajangmyeon.
"I remember you mentioned in a stray thought that you missed the 'midnight delivery' culture," he said with a smile. "Eat. It's exactly 1,200 calories of nostalgia."
Ji-Hoon's attempt to "manage" the conversation set off the hilarity. Every time Reinn talked, Ji-Hoon's peripheral vision displayed a tiny holographic window that Reinn could see mirrored in his spectacles.
Reinn squinted and said, "Are you... Are you using a prompt generator?"
Ji-Hoon appeared a little agitated as he cleared his throat. "It's a Relationship Optimization Algorithm. It suggests topics based on your current facial micro-expressions. Currently, it says there is a 74% chance you want to discuss long-term infrastructure stability."
"Ji-Hoon," Reinn laughed, leaning across the table. "I don't want to talk about infrastructure. I want to talk about you. Why are you so obsessed with these numbers?"
"Numbers don't lie, Samantha," he continued, becoming unusually silent. "In my world, I was a 'Male Lead' designed to be perfect. If my stock prices dropped, my 'love interest' would leave. If my company failed, my 'character arc' ended. I've lived my whole life under a performance review. I don't know how to exist in a world where my value isn't a graph."
The simulation abruptly malfunctioned. A large black digital spike was blasted into the center of the virtual Namsan Tower by a stray "Copyright Foreclosure" from the Source World.
"Warning," chimed an automatic voice. "Narrative integrity at 40%."
Ji-Hoon yelled, "Ignore it," while typing frantically. "I can stabilize the sector!"
"Ji-Hoon, stop," Reinn murmured, extending her hand to cover his. "You're trying to build a fortress of data to keep me safe. But look at your hands. You're shaking," she said, focusing on the man instead of the screen.
The neon lights of Seoul flickered back into the gloomy candlelight of the Hylde library as the simulation started to fade. They were sitting on the floor in the middle of a stack of strewn papers; the high-tech seats were gone.
As a bridge, the "Date" had succeeded, but as a simulation, it had failed.
Reinn whispered, "I'm not a merger, Ji-Hoon," in the quiet library. "And you aren't a Chairman here. You're a man who traveled across dimensions because you were lonely. That's the only 'data point' that matters to me."
Ji-Hoon glanced at her, then at his empty hands. With a precision that was no longer corporate but rather intensely, agonizingly human, he extended his hand and traced the contours of her jaw.
"I can't give you a crown, and I can't protect you with a sword," he murmured. "But I can give you a mind that will never stop trying to solve the problem of your happiness. I don't want to 'own' your story, Samantha. I just want to be the one who makes sure the lights stay on."
It was a calm, mature kind of love between two grown-ups who had witnessed the world fall apart and made the decision to put the pieces back together to create something better.
Leo's iPad pinged sharply, breaking the moment.
Leo entered, appearing less like a cosmic fixer and more like a tech-support agent on a twenty-hour shift. He glanced at the two of them on the ground: the Lady with a smudge of virtual sauce on her face and the CEO with his tie undone.
Leo remarked, "Hate to interrupt the 'Analog Connection' moment," as he glanced at the flickering walls. "But the Source-World Lawyers just bypassed the first firewall. They aren't sending 'Cease' letters anymore. They've sent a Narrative Auditor."
"An Auditor?" Ji-Hoon asked as he got to his feet, putting his business suit back on. "What are the charges?"
Leo read, "Unauthorized Genre-Blending and Asset Mismanagement," from the screen. "They're claiming that by dating five different men, Samantha is 'Diluting the Brand' of the original Romance. They want to force a Final Choice by midnight tomorrow, or the whole dimension gets 'Liquidated.'"
Reinn turned to face the two men. She turned to face the door and said, "They want a choice? Then we'll give them one. But first... I believe I have a date with a Duke in a forest."
Eyldion emerged in the doorway, carrying the bulky winter cloak of Dyierrean. "He's waiting at the treeline, sister. And he looks like he's ready to fight a lawyer with his bare hands."