"Would it be okay if it was you? You idiot."
Precipe's voice was clear and decisive as she chose the latter option. Attar did not reply. Or rather, he seemed to doubt what he had just heard.
huh?
Prisippi's pale gaze moved over Atari's head. It seemed like something was wrong.
[Atari/Emotion 0]
The window of affection became ominously dark.
And then…
[Atari/Emotion???]
It has turned into an incomprehensible question mark.
“W-what?”
Precipe's eyes widened in horror. Although the status window remained the same, it became dim like a burnt out light, making the values unreadable.
"Mr. Atari? Is something wrong?"
The voice that surprised Presibe was that of the Atari knight.
"no."
Atari waved his hand dismissively, not even looking his way.
“Step aside now.”
Because of his slight frown and command, the knight stiffened and retreated.
"…my lady."
Atari's voice brought Prisippi out of her daze, and she hurriedly moved her lips.
“No, I didn't mean that, I wasn't trying to say that!”
I started to rave.
"I was surprised – I was really surprised, that's all. And, uh... wait, what?"
Priscipi froze mid-sentence.
“Am I… talking?”
Until now, her words had been limited to pre-determined choices in the game. No matter how loud she tried to scream, it had no effect while playing. But now it's different.
Suddenly Precipe grabbed the hem of her dress, held it tightly and then…
“Ma’am, what are you-”
“Stay still!”
This is not about you.
With a ripping sound, the worn fabric was torn apart.
This was the case, the torn dress had not returned to its original shape.
Presibe stared at the item in her hands blankly.
“In the game, everything always goes back to normal...”
Even when she cut off her hair, leaving it a mess, it grew back instantly—silver strands that gleamed mockingly in the wind. The clothes were no different, as they fixed themselves in a flash.
But now…
"This doesn't make any sense. None of this."
“Ma’am, calm down, you seem to be in a state of great turmoil.”
Attar, who was silently observing her actions, tried to calm her down.
It was like he still didn't know who she really was. To him, she was just a noblewoman from a family – since this was their first meeting, it made sense.
Perhaps this was a relief.
“Anyway, you should go back now. If you allow me, I can accompany you.”
“No! No, thank you!”
Do you want to accompany me? Return to that miserable tower in one of the palace's hidden corners? Prisippi shook her head angrily.
“I'll go alone. Really, I'm sorry for being rude earlier. Thank you... Goodbye.”
Then, she quickly left without looking back. She felt his eyes on her retreating body, but that was the least of her worries.
“…”
Left alone on the stairs, Atari watched her retreat before letting out a quiet laugh.
Then he looked at the hand that was holding her ankle.
Pale and sensitive.
Ideal for thick and heavy shackles.
“Oh yeah… there was that newly made thing,” he whispered to himself. “A very thick one.”
That would suit her well. Her slender body would strain under his weight, making her suffering even more difficult.
An evil smile spread across his face.
But then, he staggered slightly, and suddenly felt a severe headache.
[Atari, it hurts me…]
A trembling voice, a faint moan, whispered in his ears.
[…]
The image of that strange woman, leaning like a wilted flower against the wall, stared into the void without expression.
"What is this…?"
These were not his memories. Atari frowned and rubbed his temple.
"Mr. Atari, it's getting late. Shall we go back?"
His knight approached him cautiously, gauging his reaction.
Atari nodded but remained thoughtful as he walked down the corridor. The memory - or vision - was tormenting him, and his thoughts were disturbed.
He did not look at the eyes that were watching him from the shadows of the opposite corridor.
Prisippi stumbled back to her tower in a daze.
She collapsed onto the dirty, rickety bed, staring at the cloth in her hands.
It was a torn piece of her dress.
The dress remained torn.
Her anxiety stemmed not only from the strange events, but from the realization of something terrifying.
When I played the game in normal mode, before unlocking secret mode, I died countless times. She was beheaded, hanged, poisoned, and shot with arrows – her deaths were as varied as her mistakes. Her affection levels, which started from zero, dropped to negative levels, leading to her undoing.
But she always came back, and the conservation job was her lifeline.
But now? What if there were no such safety nets? What if her life could no longer correct itself, like this dress?
What if dying in the game means real death?
Precipe shot straight up.
“Save.”
Her lips moved quickly.
"Save! Save, damn it!"
As if to confirm her worst fears, a message appeared.
[System: The save function is not available in secret mode.]
Her blank expression returned.
In normal mode, she had memorized how to reach the endings of the story. But with Attar and Dietrich's already different behaviors, this was not reliable.
If she can't save, how can she keep going?
A memory of a previous letter passed through her mind.
[System: You can re-hunt characters you've already reached an end with or search for the real male hero. However, both paths are risky.]
Finally I understood the hidden meaning behind those words.
Stay safe by replaying known routes and endings.
Or risk everything to find the true protagonist.
And those strange options?
Of course, this game was being dubbed a “bug-filled disaster” even before you got into it. I encountered a lot of bugs: frozen screens that trap you in suspended time, dialogues, and even characters' faces that changed randomly.
But these errors almost always eventually self-correct.
this? This was on a whole other level.
“What kind of dirty game is this?!”
How did you not go bankrupt?
Prisippi screamed into the void.
“How am I supposed to find the real hero when you don't give me a single clue?!”
And then…
[System: While the secret mode saving function is disabled, new features are unlocked.]
“...what?”
[System: Do you want to activate the new feature?]
The turbulent emotions in her eyes gave way to something new as an unfamiliar text appeared before her.