The Player Hides His Past - Chapter 619

Chapter 619. Lee Hoyeol

I couldn’t stop thinking.

“□□□□ Me”

Grandfell, what were your final words?

I had been practically dragged back aboard the Iron Castle Ship and returned to reality. While I was chasing after Bael and Pride, it seemed a lot had been happening on this side as well.

Rustle.

The first thing that caught my eye upon returning to the Magic Tower’s office was a parchment. It was a reply from Marcelo, and even before I read it, I found myself gulping nervously.

After all, I had never given Marcelo any instructions.

I muttered to myself.

“If it wasn’t me, then it must’ve been you.”

I had no idea when Grandfell had issued such orders behind my back, but it was clear he had known everything in advance.

The anomalous malice that would spread across the Arcana Continent and reality. The havoc the evil dragons would wreak. Even the Magic Tower’s capacity to hold back those rampaging dragons during the special conference.

And now I realized, you must have also known this:

That the special conference had been organized solely to keep you here.

The thought alone was enough to send shivers down my spine.

“Could you actually see the future?”

I whispered softly.

“If so, then you must have foreseen this version of me too.”

The silence in the room was deafening.

[Status abnormality, ‘Possession’ has been dispelled.]

That was the message that marked the biggest change since Grandfell had left me.

If you were here, Grandfell, you’d be smugly overconfident, and I would have immediately told you to stop showing off.

But now, that banter was impossible.

Because you were gone.

I picked up a quill.

The sensation of holding it solely with my own will felt foreign, even strange.

“Damn.”

It took ruining several sheets of parchment before I could finally compose a proper reply.

Yet even now, I hesitated to send it out as confidently as you would have.

Because I am not you. I’m far from perfect.

What if I made a spelling mistake? Was my tone too formal or too stiff?

I needed to double-check everything.

“This should’ve been your reply to write, not mine.”

It was you, Grandfell, who had predicted and prepared for this situation.

I was merely a substitute, someone left to pick up the pieces in your absence.

With that realization, a bitter thought crossed my mind:

This responsibility feels so alien. After all, I’m just an ordinary person. Holding a quill pen and writing replies like this?

“They must all be worried sick about me.”

My long hair, now black instead of silver, shimmered faintly in the dim light.

That’s right.

With the end of your possession, my hair had reverted to its original black color—my true hair as Lee Hoyeol.

I stared at the mirror.

“…I look so different.”

Everything else remained the same:

[Name: Grandfell Caudi Arpheus Romeo]
[Title: Last Adventurer, Noble One, Transcendent, Dark Dragon, Celestial, Master of the Ten Thrones, Great Master of Anomalies, Savior of the Shadows, Light]
[Class: Demon Hunter]
[Level: 1,115]
[Attributes]
Strength: 250 / Agility: 249 / Magic: 1,061 / Luck: 20 / Aesthetic Sense: Superior / Tenacity: 50 / Charm: Present / ???: Present
[Points Available: 0]

Even the status window, its details, the items I was equipped with, and the [Waiting for Dawn Jacket] draped over my shoulders were unchanged.

“Who knew a hair color could make such a difference?”

The silver hair that symbolized the Caudi family was gone, leaving only my plain black hair.

If this were a clichéd fantasy story, it would be the trope where the protagonist’s power waxes and wanes based on their hair color.

I gazed at my reflection for a long moment.

“If I had to describe this face in one word…”

“It’s like your face without all the intensity, Grandfell.”

If you were here, you’d probably say something like:

“Your aesthetic sense must be failing you.”

But you weren’t here in the Magic Tower’s office.

The proof lay in the neat and orderly tea set on the desk in front of me.

I reached out for one of the perfectly aligned tea bags of green tea.

“If you were here, you’d have brewed a cup the moment we returned.”

There was no longer any trace of you in Seoul, the land of anomalies that could only be protected because of you. Nor were you in Antonium, the empire’s capital that stood firm thanks to the efforts of your followers.

Yes, Grandfell.

You left me—chose to descend into the Demon World—to escape.

“The more I think about it, the more bitter it feels.”

I’ve never clung to anyone like this before.

You know this, don’t you?

My relationships with people were shaped by the traumas of my past. You’re the first person I’ve ever tried to stop from leaving.

“You’re truly heartless.”

Now that you’ve left, and I’m alone, I can’t help but think—maybe appealing to emotions wasn’t the answer. Maybe invoking rules and procedures would’ve been better.

“…”

It’s not as though I don’t have other reasons to be overwhelmed.

“Seriously, this is a disaster.”

Just look at the pile of work on my desk!

To try and hold onto you, I escalated my responsibilities—not just as the head of the special conference but also as the Chief of the Tower.

And it wasn’t just the Magic Tower.

In the Yusra Kingdom, there were bound to be stacks of parchments and AAU-related documents waiting for me as well.

With a sigh, I sank into my chair and muttered.

“You know… I still don’t understand.”

Your actions, Grandfell.

I thought I had grasped about 70% of them, and that felt like an accomplishment.

But truly, you…!

Even as I sulk like this, there’s no response.

Which leaves me no choice but to have a one-sided conversation with the ticking clock.

Tick.

“What could it all mean?”

Tick.

“The conversation you and Bael had in the consciousness space.”

Tick.

“The smile you gave.”

Tick.

“The last words you left behind.”

“I don’t know.”

I couldn’t understand your words, Grandfell. How could I? There’s an unfathomable gulf between us now that you’re completely separated from me.

“Is this how everyone else felt?”

Is this what it’s like to face those cryptic, mosaic-like messages as a player?

It feels like I’m finally undergoing some mirror therapy, coming face-to-face with myself.

It makes sense, though, that I wouldn’t understand anything right now.

If I had been able to fully understand you, Grandfell, you would never have left me in the first place.

But you know this too, don’t you?

You saw it for yourself in the end.

“I’m a worse person than you think, am I?”

Even so.

I’m not giving up.

I recalled the last words you left behind.

“I’ll interpret those ‘four characters’ however I want.”

So I whispered to myself.

“Fine. I’ll ‘save you,’ Grandfell.”

That was my interpretation of your final words.

“‘Save me.’”

Some might argue, how could Grandfell, who chose to descend into the Demon World of his own will, have said such a thing?

And to them, I’d reply shamelessly.

“If you didn’t want this, you should’ve said it clearly.”

You deliberately made it cryptic, so how I interpret and act on it is my decision, Grandfell…!

If you don’t like it, then show yourself right now.

Tick.

I waited for an answer, but of course, there was none.

Still, perhaps because I had made a bold decision, my heart felt a little lighter.

I even allowed myself a sly smile—one Grandfell would never make.

“After all, a covenant must always be upheld, right? Isn’t that so, Grandfell?”

I’ll go to the Demon World and save you, Grandfell!

As I set this lofty goal, the steps I needed to take began to crystallize in my mind like a series of quests. But I couldn’t ignore the burdens I had in the present either.

If I were being honest…!

“I’d love to dump all of this on someone else and walk away.”

But that’s not an option.

Because Grandfell would return one day.

I chuckled softly.

“I’ll keep things just the way you left them, for you.”

I’ll maintain the image you painstakingly built, for as long as I possibly can. With that resolve, I caught a glimpse of my reflection—of my black hair.

“Right, I should consider your aesthetics too.”

If you end up disliking this body and refuse to return, I’d have nothing to say in my defense.

I let out a deep sigh.

“Man, what a world we live in.”

The day the taunts of those pesky adversaries turned out to be right had come at last.

—”Hoyeol, that hair dye suits you. Where’d you get it done?”

With a bitter chuckle, I began my exploration into the peculiar.

If I had the delivery sent to the Magic Tower, someone would notice right away, so it had to go to my apartment instead.

After finalizing my order, I typed into the search bar:

[Search: Bleaching kit]

Good, let’s get it with express shipping if possible.

pindangscans

Crystal Hall.

“…Don’t you think his hair looks a bit dry?”

A murmur from someone in the crowd.

“Certainly.”

Jesse Heinness.

Sitting alone in the audience, she gazed at Hoyeol, who had appeared on the stage.

Contrary to the rumors, the Chief’s hair still glimmered with its radiant silver hue. However, as the voice had pointed out, its luster seemed duller than usual. The cone hat on her head twitched slightly.

However, as the voice suggested, its luster seemed diminished.

Her cone hat tilted slightly.

-It’s amusing hearing you talk about hair, Jesse.

“…Excuse me?”

-Sitting atop your head gives me the best vantage to judge your hair’s state. And trust me, you’re hardly in a position to critique others’ hair. Why, even now, your poorly dried strands look like a bird’s nest.

Jesse flinched, hurriedly pulling off her cone hat.

“Enough! That’s not what’s important right now!”

While it was true that the Chief’s hair seemed unusually dull today, it wasn’t surprising given what he must have endured. Before the hat could retort, Jesse quickly continued.

“Either way, it’s a relief. Truly.”

It wasn’t just Jesse; everyone in Crystal Hall seemed to let out a collective sigh of relief.

“My lord.”

Even Marcelo, who had locked eyes with Hoyeol from the stage, was no exception.

Marcelo struggled to find the words.

The day the Chief returned to the Magic Tower just a few days ago.

Marcelo would never forget the sight of Hoyeol that day. Even setting aside the black hair, Hoyeol had radiated an overwhelming sense of emptiness, as though he had lost something immeasurable.

But now—

“You’ve worked hard, Tower Master Marcelo.”

In this moment, that emptiness was nowhere to be found.

Neither Hoyeol’s tone nor his gaze showed any difference from before.

Marcelo, holding back his emotion, responded.

“No, thank you, Chief Lee.”

pindangscans

Marcelo then stepped back from the podium and continued to observe Hoyeol.

The summary of the special conference was the Chief’s responsibility.

Even without it being said aloud, everyone knew why Hoyeol had appeared in the Crystal Hall.

At last, under the full attention of the room, Hoyeol began to speak.

His voice was the same as always.

Or rather, it was almost the same. To be precise, it was subtly different—so subtle that no one noticed. No one except the speaker himself.

Truly.

A chill ran down his spine.

Goosebumps.

How in the world—

“From this moment, we shall commence the summary of the special conference.”

The fact that I’m speaking like this of my own free will…

Grandfell.

When you return, we need to talk.

Seriously.