The concert lasted three hours. It was a compilation of Ari's best hits, full of long, old school romance songs that nearly brought Sun-young to tears at the high points.

Alas, not everyone shared her feelings.

“That was overrated as hell.”

“It was not.”

“The audience was so dull!”

“Because she's singing at a venue! It's not a concert!”

“I was told it was a concert!”

The back and forth between William and David was fun to listen to. The younger male was adamant that it was boring. Sun-young recalled him yawning at one point, specifically at the part when David did not appreciate his lack of manners.

“I was expecting a serious concert experience!” William said. “The stuff you see in movies and the internet! Everybody being drunk and dancing and partying. But no, we just sat and listened to some romance.”

“It's a Korean ballad!”

“Whatever that is.”

Marta chuckled. Walking beside her, Sun-young asked, “What did you think?”

“I liked it. It was quiet and I'm no good with loud people, so William's complaints are my compliments.”

“Me neither. Was this your first concert?”

Because it certainly was Sun-young's.

“A long time ago when I was a kid, I think I went to a concert with my parents,” Marta replied. “I don't remember much besides the screaming.”

Regardless of what William said, the concert ended up being fun. No wonder Ari, a singer, was able to collect the points to enter Gate 8. She must have given a hefty paycheck for the number of people she drew in. Every little seat was taken.

‘I do wonder how Ari died. I bet it's super big news regardless,’ Sun-young thought. ‘I know my mom would be sad about her death. Probably more than mine.’

There was a large fountain ahead with steaming water cascading down from the top. The water glimmered from the light of the shopping centre. There was an American man approaching every person that walked nearby, shouting, “Photos! Photos! Come get a group photo! Make some memories!”

He spoke in the thickest New York accent ever. It was a shock, to be honest. Sun-young assumed it was a stereotype in American movies. Guess not.

Sun-young's gaze lingered for a little too long because the New Yorker noticed her and instantly closed the distance between them. There was no escaping from his advertisements.

"Hey, hey! You want a photo? Come on, the water is so beautiful!" The New Yorker shouts to Sun-young, pointing eagerly to the fountain ahead.

"Uh... No, thank you," Davjd replied nervously. The group tried to make their way past the photographer swiftly. If Kazi was here, they probably would have. Without him though, they were stuck.

"Come on! Don't you want to make some memories?" The New Yorker pressed, getting in their personal space. His thick accent made it even louder and more grating. “You can get the photo if you you like! Ooh, ooh, I have a photo booth too, ya see!? Get a photo with select backgrounds, same price!”

He gestured to the black box behind him, perched very close to the fountain. It seemed old in the sense that it came right out of the nineteenth century.

“How much is it?” David asked out of courtesy.

“A hundred points per photo! You won't find a better deal!”

“A hundred points for a photo?"

“Ay, ay, listen, pal! Cameras ain't commonplace here. I know your generation loves tech. Don't you miss it? Come on.”

"Okay... Sure." Sun-young spoke up quietly but confidently, her nerves taking the backseat. Her instincts told her the photographer was not going to pass them up, not to mention she was intrigued by the suggestion of an amulet.

“Fine.” William frowned. “Just saying, I hate taking photos.”

William, David, and Marta. Taking a photo with the three of them was unexpectedly nice. The New Yorker prepared to snap a photo of them with the fountain in view, the tall ancient machine from a hundred years ago audibly loading and churning.

‘An amulet, huh…’

“Say cheese!”

“Cheese.”

Only Marta and David said it. Still, even without it, Sun-young smiled.

The need to live up to expectations. The need to never give up and relentlessly pursue greater heights.

When she was with them, everything felt okay.

***

Her personal dimension, or her inner world she liked to call it, was plain. The bed she was in was identical to her college dorm bed. As terrible as her memories were, it was also the only place that she was able to call home. Before, she would have alarms set-up to help her through the day. Now it was the System.

Sigh.

Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

It was like an ache that she could not ignore. Sun-young's eyes fluttered open, immediately agitated by the blue box hovering in her vision. The System window was filled with text that she didn't want to read. She didn't know how much time had passed since Ari's concert, but it wasn't long enough. Sun-young's muscles were drained, the tiniest movement requiring some straining.

[ > Kazi Hossain: Hey guys! You up?

> William Martin: ?

> William Martin: just woke up man ]

Sun-young yawned and draped an arm on her head. ‘Me too,’ she said mentally, refraining from messaging to see what he wanted. If it was something tedious, then she would pretend she didn't see it and go to sleep again.

On top of being a heavy eater, she was a heavy sleeper too. On weekends, anyway.

[ > Kazi Hossain: It's about Jack.

> William Martin: who ???

> Kazi Hossain: And one other thing.

> Kazi Hossain: Sun-young, I know you're in bed and too tired to lift a finger but I would really appreciate you coming. ]

Dammit, now she felt called out. Was he a mind reader or something? Her fingers were too valuable to type with. Still, she had to reply.

[ > Yoon Sun-young: k ]

She rolled over and went to her wardrobe. Technically, a wardrobe was a waste of space given that every player had access to their inventory. Sun-young refused to completely rely on it because she liked the normalcy she was able to introduce into her dimension. It felt so much lonelier and barren if there was solely a bed.

She changed from her pajamas to her battle outfit. Chainmail armour over a blue tunic with flaps, and generic black leather pants. Looking at herself in the mirror, she honestly felt like Link from Legend of Zelda.

‘Exit home.’

Gone was the white world. She was back in the realm of the Heavenly Tower. No matter how many times she saw the monstrous structure, she was wowed and took a second to soak it in.

She received another message from Kazi.

[ Kazi Hossain: I'm at the BBQ place ]

She knew where to go. She opened up her map and found the closest spawn point to Nulgupjisin Grill House. One click and voila! She was at the Nebulous Bazaar, which was full of people as it always was. Kazi once said the population of the Nebulous Bazaar alone was over two hundred thousand.

Kazi was already at the same table they were always at. A corner of the grill house that was practically reserved for them. Sun-young silently approved of the consistency; it was like sitting in the same spot at the café or university. At some point, it becomes a part of you.

“Tired?” Kazi saw right through her, smiling. His concern aside, today, he seemed strangely off.

“Mhm.” Sun-young took the seat across from him.

“Sorry, I know you're still healing.”

“It's okay.”

Following that, a comfortable silence. The chill atmosphere wouldn't be broken till the teenager arrived.

“Hey, you're already here. Good to see you though.” Without missing a beat, William slid to the seat beside Kazi. “So what's up? You made it sound serious on the phone.”

Kazi's smile waned. He didn’t beat around the bush. He looked straight at Sun-young and declared, “I know who Jack is.”

The air gained a chill and her pulse raced.

“Who the hell is Jack?” William looked between Kazi and Sun-young, totally grasping at straws. “Can someone fill me in?”

“In a second,” Kazi and Sun-young said in unison. With that, Kazi elaborated, “You mentioned it briefly, Sun-young, that you were able to slice Jack’s hand off with anti-magic. You mentioned his surprise and how he recovered by recreating his hand with dark magic. I did some reading at the House of Wisdom and learned the complexities of regenerating limbs at will, even with the System. What I concluded was that Jack likely never regenerated it back. Jack is still missing a hand, and you wouldn't believe what I saw on the train.”

Sun-young held her breath.

“That's right, there was someone with a very strange hand.”

‘He was there then. He was there on the train.’

William understood the tension. He glanced between the two adults and asked, “Okay…who is this Jack then?”

Kazi exhaled. “I can’t say.”

That was it? He can't say? What?

“Why not?” Sun-young asked. Her eyes checked their surroundings. Sure, the place was full, but was it really that big a risk? It wasn't like this was a conspiracy, right?

“No, as in, I literally am unable to say it. I can't even write his name down either. It's like…” Kazi's lips fell into a flat line, eyebrows narrowing. “...some sort of curse is blocking me from saying it.”

“But you never met Jack,” Sun-young pointed out. “If anyone should be cursed, it should be me.”

“Technically I have,” Kazi said. “Either Jack somehow cursed me and everyone else on that train without noticing, or…the terrifying option: that nobody in existence is allowed to speak his real name.”

‘Nobody…in existence?’

That was impossible. Impossible. So why? Why was she shivering? Why was she considering the unlikeliest possibility?

“Stay saucy, lady.”

Who in the world had she encountered?

“I considered telling everyone about Jack on the train. Unfortunately, the cons outweighed the pros. With so many people on the train, with Sun-young weakened, Jack could have very easily taken a hostage,” Kazi explained. “I thought about creating a strike team. Quietly tell select people about Jack and then jump him.”

William was starting to understand. “So why didn’t you?”

“One, I didn’t have enough time. The situation was already tense with Tony’s death, so there would have been too much convincing and not enough time.” Kazi looked straight at Sun-young, whose heart dropped. “Two, assuming I told the right people, assuming everything went right, there was still Sun-young. Jack was certainly aware of what he did to you.”

“And he would have exploited it,” Sun-young muttered. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” he comforted.

“I was too weak.”

Something she had reprimanded Marta for. Look where she was now. How the mighty fall…

“Trust me, there was no dealing with Jack at the moment,” Kazi insisted. “There was the trial, John, Tony, and Paul. There was already so much confusion thrown around. Another accusation would have led to tension and more confusion. Honestly, at the time, I wasn’t a hundred percent certain. It was fifty-fifty. Only yesterday did I actually trust myself to tell anyone.”

‘But if I wasn’t there, then you might have been able to beat him.’ Sun-young clenched her fist. God, she hated being weak.

“Then there's the other thing I mentioned.” His gorgeous hazel eyes went over to William. “This is about you, William.”

“M-me?”

Sun-young was perplexed. ‘William?’

“Do you know why Nash was so willing to let his friend's murderer go?” Kazi's question was met with puzzling confusion. “I won't mince words—it was because of you. You terrify him.”

“Huh…?”

“You don't remember it but during Gate 7 you went on a rampage. You nearly killed Nash's entire team and came close to killing me.”

William looked like the blood had been drained from him. He swallowed the bile in his throat, chewed on his inner cheek, and wiped his hand down his face. The colour was gone from him, replaced by a paleness full of anxiety. “The blood…I knew…” William swallowed again, as if memories were beginning to stir. “Oh god…is it because…”

“So you know?”

Now it was Sun-young's turn to be lost. What were they talking about?

“The bite,” William said. “I…I've been having nightmares recently. Vivid stuff where I'm back at the blood lake and fighting against something and…dying.”

“Your head constantly hurts, doesn't it?”

No answer. Kazi marched on until he did.

“Every time you're stressed, you scrunch up your forehead. You always make a fist too. Pills, I suspect?”

“I..." William found the fear to speak again. "I-I used to take them back home. But here…medicine isn't really the same.”

“What kind of medicine? What for?”

William buried his face in his hands. “I…I don't want to say.”

Kazi softened. “William, we won't think any less of you—”

“You will! Trust me, you will.” William breathed through his nose and covered his eyes. “Everybody does.”