I Have Returned, but I Cannot Lay down My Gun

Chapter 249 – Consecutive Occurrences of the Impossible

There is a common misconception that pervades this world.

It is the belief that opportunities come only when one is perfectly prepared to seize them.

The illusion that, after completing all preparations, one can confidently walk the red carpet and sit on the prepared throne.

Therefore, many people mistakenly think they are already somewhat prepared for it…

However, there is a slightly less common fact: many people frequently forget that opportunities can come at any moment of choice.

And it didn’t take long to realize this.

-[Notification: Please select the type of visitor pass.]

A building in all black, similar to what I had seen in Yeouido. If it was called Yeouido’s “Yeongyanggang” in Korea, here it was called New York’s “Dark Chocolate Bar.” Truly a straightforward naming convention.

Anyway, I couldn’t escape the illusion myself. I thought something dramatic was waiting for me. But seeing numerous ICARUS employees bustling around, busy with preparations for the upcoming final championship, I wondered if I had come here under a mistaken assumption.

But…

“…”

Perhaps even this thought was a fleeting illusion.

I carefully placed my finger on the kiosk-style machine while dispelling idle thoughts.

Unlike in Korea, the method at the headquarters was a bit unique. Depending on the purpose of entry, it involved creating a one-time visitor pass on the spot – I had heard that there were various issuance methods, but today I was likely to follow a different path from the others.

I displayed a message on the hologram. Several pieces of information and keywords sent in advance via the official ICARUS International email, along with a code received 40 minutes ago. Following these, I unlocked a new authentication method on the kiosk that didn’t exist previously.

After a few touches, I entered the personal authentication code.

And at that moment,

───Kiing!

“…There was something, after all.”

A spot where I could place my wrist. The red laser beam emanating from the round groove seemed clearly intended to scan something.

There was only one thing to place there.

-[Notification: ICARUS GEAR // Authenticating….]

-[Notification: Confirmed. Issuing visitor pass. Please activate the augmented reality function of your lenses.]

Of course.

As soon as I blinked, the hologram spread out in concentric circles. As it scanned the distinctly unique visitor pass, new information updated and guided me on the path I had to take.

Carefully hanging the visitor pass with its accompanying lanyard around my neck, I passed through the sensor of the gate beyond the automatically opened glass door, which turned green indicating permission to pass.

Ignoring it.

The place I needed to see, the place I needed to walk, was beyond that.

───Ding!

“…Aha.”

Right on cue.

The elevator arrived at the exact moment, and the door opened. The walls, neatly finished with a modern design, had a panel to swipe the keycard and buttons indicating the floors in the building.

However, when I brought the visitor pass on my neck to the panel, the elevator began descending toward the basement as if it was meant to. It was a truly clichéd movement.

The descent didn’t last long. When the door opened, the revealed place was just a small gate and a wall with no one around. It seemed like a space that had long been automated rather than unattended.

The floor, the gate, and the counter were all covered in dust. It was easy to deduce that this place had been devoid of human presence for a long time.

-Beep!

As soon as the gate operated normally, the wall, which I had thought was a wall, opened with a heavy rumble. It was clearly intentional. The way it was decorated to resemble an entrance to a secret organization made me laugh out loud at the absurdity for a moment.

The hidden wall opened but did not close again. It seemed designed to stay open as long as there were people inside.

Walking down the not-so-long corridor, I briefly recalled the fragmented stories I had heard about ICARUS and the Dark Zone.

I had heard absurd, sci-fi-like tales about hijacking control of auxiliary AIs and that content updates weren’t planned by themselves. But if those stories came from places where information control was frequent – political or economic spheres – then it changed things.

When the location changes, a tabloid story becomes one that must not be revealed.

As I walked, a second firmly closed wall blocked my way. The wall had the same recognition device as the one I saw at the kiosk.

In other words, there was nothing that could stop me at this point.

───Guguk!

The wall opened.

And next, a thick darkness was revealed. According to the scan with the ICARUS gear, it was a huge spherical space about 130 meters in diameter.

At that moment, platforms slowly rose beneath my feet. Pure levitation without any electronic system involved. The ICARUS gear had already turned black. The watch, guaranteed to operate under any circumstances, had stopped working.

Only then did I instinctively know that it was time to face the past memories that I hadn’t shared with anyone.

As the spherical space gradually brightened, I slowly approached the mainframe at the center and slowly opened my mouth.

There was no way they couldn’t hear me.

“An AI, huh? Isn’t that too flimsy an excuse?”

The very ones who brought me back here.

They displayed words in the air.

-[<—-> : Nice to see you.]

-[<—-> : It’s been a while since Indian Point Nuclear Power Plant.]

I couldn’t be sure if they would respond.

But – it was time to ask many questions.

At the end of the mainframe, there was a single chair reserved for me.

I carefully sat down and gathered my thoughts. A brief silence followed. I had so many questions to ask. My head ached even before I asked the first question; it was a story that wouldn’t make me laugh.

Taking several deep breaths to control the torrent of thoughts. Everything was intertwined in an inseparable chain, making the process of separating and forming questions cause slight dizziness.

However, it didn’t take long for the initially chaotic thoughts to gradually form a few specific questions.

Facing the central cam of the mainframe, I opened my mouth.

“…You saved me, didn’t you?”

-[<—-> : Yes.]

As expected.

As soon as I heard that they had saved me, the vague illusion of that time began to take a concrete shape – Indian Point Nuclear Power Plant. It was they who saved my life in the moment of near-death crisis back then.

Upon hearing that, a myriad of questions I wanted to ask began to simmer in my mind, but there was one thing I had to say first, more important and preceding all else.

I lifted my bowed head and looked sincerely at the central screen of the mainframe.

“…Thank you. Truly, sincerely.”

-[<—-> : It’s rewarding to hear that. I’m glad to see you much more composed than before. But…]

“But?”

-[<—-> : It might be a bit early to receive thanks. There are still many unresolved issues and a lot of things you’re curious about. Isn’t that right?]

“….”

It was true.

What exactly was ICARUS and the Dark Zone, why did this happen to me, what was an Emergent exactly… There were so many things I wanted to ask. I might have to cling to them for answers.

They probably already knew this, but it seemed as if they were reading my thoughts. They slowly opened their mouth as if to reveal everything.

A soothing voice came through the speaker.

-[<—-> : Answering such questions is also part of our job. The reason for this meeting is to address those curiosities, so I hope this conversation can resolve them.]

Flap.

The sound of paper turning came from the speaker.

A shocking story continued in a clear voice.

-[<—-> : Perhaps, around this point, you might be wondering ‘why’ the game Dark Zone exists… But before discussing that, it’s necessary to explain why you got involved in such things.]

-[<—-> : Yoo Jin. You are a typical victim of multiple worldline collision cases. The reason you experienced events that are impossible to explain by the rules of this world is because of that.]

“…A worldline collision case?”

-[<—-> : Do you remember the continuous occurrence of logically impossible events from the first day your body changed?]

… I remember.

That nightmare-like day when I woke up on the winter streets of New York with no warning while I was sleeping at home. The shock of suddenly finding myself on the sidewalk of a deserted winter New York city street was unforgettable.

The human-sized objects scattered on the sidewalk, the snow piled on them, the trash strewn about, and the absence of any signs of life in the houses and vehicles. The chill that made me nauseous, and the sudden transformation of my body with a giant snake’s tail attached to my hip.

And finally, the bizarrely colored lightning I repeatedly saw beyond the Brooklyn Bridge before finally entering an empty house.

That strange and shocking sight seemed indelible, even if my brain were carved with a scalpel.

So, according to them, was that a worldline collision?

My head throbbed, but no matter how I thought about it, there was no other explanation. An extraordinary event could only be explained by an extraordinary reason.

But there was something even more important to discuss.

“A collision means it was completely unpredictable.”

-[<—-> : Unfortunately, yes. Our department also lacks the technology to prevent such collisions; we could only manage the aftermath.]

Completely unpredictable. If that were to be expressed differently, it might mean that my five-year walk through hell was simply due to bad luck. The sensation felt in the back of my neck upon hearing this was

stiffness.

It was a plausible reason.

But,

“…If I had heard this right after returning to this world, I might have been mentally confused….”

Conversely, it meant I wasn’t confused now.

Why was that? Was it because of the small medal I still cherished on my neck, or perhaps thanks to my teammates waiting outside, or maybe my disciples waiting for my return several kilometers away from Two Bridges?

Although it had only been a few months since my return, and despite the substantial mental scars and indirect PTSD I carried, along with various practical damages, I didn’t think I had built such fragile human relationships that they would be shaken by this degree of strong winds.

And.

“Fortunately, that’s not the case now. Quite a lot has happened since then. My past was not denied, and my dedication has already been rewarded more than enough both materially and mentally….”

The weight of the metal felt on my neck was the weight of pride.

I had faced direct and indirect encounters with past ties before coming to America, and there was no need for further explanation once I set foot on the mainland. That’s why I could withstand the gale that would shave my mind, and I stood here confidently.

Resolute in my heart. No, it had to be that way. I came here to hear the stories behind the scenes.

Sitting in that chair with a renewed resolve, I heard a voice of relief coming through the speaker.

-[<—-> : I’m glad you can accept it. It was a fact difficult to bring up hastily.]

“I still have a long way to go. I can’t sit down here.”

Somehow, it felt like I heard a small laugh from the other side.

As the atmosphere eased a bit, numerous questions I had been holding back floated to the surface of my mind. But such concerns quickly lost meaning because I had already decided what to say first.

A hint gleaned from Laurentina’s words.

“I’ve pondered a lot about the term ‘worldline synchronization.’”

A brief silence.

But the words continued. The scattered fragments were drawn by a simple inspiration to form a larger fragment, which then served as a stepping stone to another axiom, reinforcing what I wanted to say.

Removing inappropriate stories, focusing on the essence.

The most important thing was that the term “worldline synchronization” appeared twice, and additionally – it was crucial to remember that whenever this term appeared, this world started to change little by little.

The term appeared when I completed the main mission. And it triggered memories of another worldline lying dormant in the hearts of many. This was the first synchronization.

But-

“When I finished the first incursion scenario, the term I thought I’d never see again reappeared.”

Initially, I didn’t take it seriously.

However, Laurentina’s words opened a tap of thought I hadn’t even known existed, and the logical progression quickly grew uncontrollably.

The point was simple – what if the other world could influence not only this world but vice versa?

There were a few incursion scenarios I had progressed through so far, but the implication was clear – these missions were arranged in chronological order, and after perhaps three or four more scenarios, I would end up in the Indian Point Nuclear Power Plant defense mission, the last mission I was deployed to in the previous world.

In other words, the second worldline synchronization would be completed at the end of that mission.

So if my prediction was correct,

If I finished that mission,

If that happened-

-[<—-> : …You’re suggesting that the incursion scenarios can depict not only the past but also interfere with the world on the other side through missions that describe the future, aren’t you?]

-[<—-> : Correct. It’s indeed possible.]

The moment that statement was confirmed as fact, a short gasp escaped – which meant that through this, I could also grasp the identity of the Dark Zone to some extent.

How this game could portray my past, which no one should know about, and the state of the United States in the worldline swept by the Omega virus so accurately.

How a mere game could influence this worldline through worldline synchronization in such a specific way.

Cautiously, but with conviction.

I looked at the central cam and opened my mouth.

“The Dark Zone wasn’t just a game. Rather, it’s more like a passage connecting two worlds, serving as an observable junction for both sides. Isn’t that right?”

Silence followed.

But I instinctively realized that this silence was the reaction to a completely correct answer.

That’s why the Dark Zone could so accurately and meticulously depict a world that no one should remember, and furthermore, indirectly convey memories that shouldn’t exist to so many people.

And the next moment, a single word came through the speaker.

I smiled and added softly.

“It looks like I’ll be staying here a bit longer.”

The conversation was not over yet.

There were still stories to hear.