Chapter 654: Mirror Version

The mirror version had first appeared when the Challenge component was added to the Hardship quest.

Since it was almost identical to Seo Ye-in in every way, it had served as both an excellent sparring partner and a valuable training partner.

After that, the objectives shifted toward cooperating with the mirror version, such as defeating powerful enemies together or clearing dungeons.

From that point on, the final reward had essentially been decided.

If the plan wasn’t to keep using the mirror version going forward, then why bother making them cooperate in the first place?

“……”

Seo Ye-in looked down at the culmination of all her hard work.

Then she turned her gaze toward me, looked at the skillbook, and then back at me again.

The rest of the party seemed to catch on to what she was thinking as well, their eyes moving back and forth between the skillbook and me, until Dang Gyu-ri finally spoke up on everyone’s behalf.

“What happens if you use it?”

“Then my mirror version would probably appear.”

In other words, Hologram Kim Ho.

The Bond trio exchanged interested glances.

“Young Monarch times two?”

“……!”

“I… think… that… sounds good.”

At that, Han So-mi who had been watching quietly jumped into the conversation.

“I’m against it! Two womanizers!”

“Hmm. I must admit, I agree with Miss Han to some extent. If there were two Kim hyungs… I’m not sure we’d be able to handle it.”

Go Hyeon-woo cautiously added his opinion as well, but the Bond trio still seemed quite taken with the idea of duplicating Kim Ho.

Dang Gyu-ri curled the corner of her lips into a sly smile.

“Wouldn’t it actually be better if there were two? We could split him up. The original goes with me and Sho-Sho, while Ye-in and Yeon-hwa get the clone.”

“No.”

Seo Ye-in rejected the idea immediately.

Then she proposed a revised arrangement.

“I get the original.”

“And everyone else gets the clone?”

“It’s logical.”

Her gray eyes sparkled.

Naturally, there was no way Dang Gyu-ri and Hong Yeon-hwa were going to accept that.

The three-way dispute looked ready to escalate, so I stepped in.

“There’s one thing we need to correct first.”

“……?”

“If I had a clone, there’d be another bus in service.”

“What?”

Split two Kim Hos between everyone?

The premise itself was flawed.

If there were two of me, then naturally there would also be two buses.

“……”

“……”

Everyone fell silent.

Now that they thought about it, it actually made perfect sense.

Han So-mi in particular was looking at me with eyes that practically said, “Just as expected of a womanizer! Even his clone would be a womanizer!”

Ignoring her, I continued my explanation.

I pointed at the skill book in Seo Ye-in’s hands and said,

“More importantly, it can’t be transferred.”

Although it had been given in the form of an item, it was still, strictly speaking, a quest reward.

A unique skill custom-made specifically for Seo Ye-in.

I figured I might as well demonstrate it while I was at it.

“Let me see it for a second.”

“……?”

Seo Ye-in tilted her head in confusion before handing me the skillbook.

The moment it touched my hand—

Fwoooosh!

It dissolved into a shower of light particles.

Then it reappeared on top of Seo Ye-in’s palm.

No one but her could even hold it, let alone use it.

Even if I could’ve chosen who received it, I still would’ve given it to Seo Ye-in.

It was simply the most efficient choice.

Take Dang Gyu-ri, for example. She already had four Qyu Shadow Undead, and she’d only be getting more in the future, so another copy wouldn’t make much difference.

Hong Yeon-hwa was the same. Her casting speed was already equivalent to that of two ordinary mages combined, so she could turn a battlefield into a sea of flames all by herself.

Sure, having two of her would be even better, but the benefit wasn’t all that significant.

There was another point to consider as well.

Equipment couldn’t be duplicated.

Even if there were two Go Hyeon-woos, there would still be only one Sacred Relic.

Likewise, there was only one Crow Tree, so Hologram Kim Ho wouldn’t be able to use the Octopus Limbs combo.

Without tools like Amplification or Enchantment to distribute everywhere the way I did, there would be a considerable gap in peak performance.

Seo Ye-in, on the other hand, was a ranged damage dealer.

For that kind of role, more was simply better.

At the same time, she wasn’t particularly dependent on equipment. More accurately, Hye-seong supplied her with so much gear that she could perform well no matter what she used.

Meanwhile, utility had always been one of her weaker areas, making Mirror Version the skill she could put to the best use.

At last, I met Seo Ye-in’s eyes and gave a small nod.

“Go ahead and learn it.”

“Okay.”

Flaaaaaash!

The skillbook dissolved into particles of light and was absorbed into her.

A notification like this had probably appeared before her.

[You have learned “Mirror Version”.]

A skill without a rank.

Instead, it shared the ranks of the skills and traits possessed by the original.

Summoning and resummoning it consumed a considerable amount of mana, and using skills also meant sharing various resources.

One unusual aspect, however, was that with the exception of certain skills and traits, cooldowns were tracked separately.

Then what about ultimate moves?

Would it be possible to unleash an even more devastating double ultimate?

Since the duration was short, alternating between the two also seemed like a viable option.

The real question was how the misfortune penalty would be applied, but that was something we could test little by little.

Having just learned a new skill, Seo Ye-in looked like she was about to summon her mirror version right away.

Just then—

Rumbleee!

A violent tremor shook the entire area, and the sound of collapsing stone echoed from somewhere alarmingly close.

It was as if the dungeon were issuing one final warning.

Get out now, or everything really will come crashing down.

We immediately gathered in front of the teleportation portal.

Dang Gyu-ri raised her mana and prepared a skill.

“Count to ten, then come out.”

With that, she disappeared through the portal.

The outside was still the deepest part of the underground level, so escaping unnoticed required even more stealth than entering had.

Dang Gyu-ri had gone first so she could hide herself and cast Shadow Pouch.

Accordingly, we exchanged glances, counted exactly ten seconds, and then all leaped through the portal together.

Fwaaaash!

The moment the deepest underground level came into view, an enormous shadow pouch swallowed us whole.

Then came the familiar sensation of being carried somewhere while swaying back and forth.

Go Hyeon-woo and Han So-mi each commented in turn.

“Miss Dang is displaying her talents once again.”

“Senior’s perfect crime!”

There wasn’t a trace left of the former disciplinary committee member she had once been.

Now she had become a full-fledged accomplice.

After hearing it so many times, even the phrase “perfect crime” seemed to have become second nature to her.

Just as Han So-mi had said, Dang Gyu-ri had successfully gotten us out of the deeper level.

“Ptooey!”

With a spitting sound, the shadow pouch spat us back out, revealing the lowest floor of C-Level before us.

We’ve made it through all the dangerous parts.

Now all that remained was to make our way back to the surface.

Compared to everything we’d already been through, that would be nothing at all.

When we came down, Go Hyeon-woo, Han So-mi, and I had descended first and waited.

On the way back up, however, we did the opposite.

While the three of us stayed hidden inside the Shadow Sanctuary, Dang Gyu-ri escorted Seo Ye-in and Hong Yeon-hwa up to E-Level first.

Then she came back down, picked us up, and took us up together.

As we passed through D-Level, I suddenly wondered what Song Cheon-hye was up to, so I glanced over.

She’s still at it.

She was still crouched in the exact same spot, looking thoroughly pitiful.

After standing around for hours, her legs were probably aching.

Even so, her eyes never left the elevators.

She’s working hard.

A true model disciplinary committee member.

In that case, maybe she deserved a few words of encouragement.

For example, I could send her a message.

***

Song Cheon-hye stared absentmindedly upward as she thought,

…They should be here any time now.

Statistically speaking, students who sneaked into the underground levels usually chose this time window.

Late enough at night for security to become just a little more relaxed, yet still early enough that they wouldn’t ruin their schedule the following day.

She had also had a strong feeling that Kim Ho’s group would show up around this time.

Yet throughout the entire night, the only people on D-Level had been herself and the other disciplinary committee members.

Doubt gradually began to creep into her mind.

…Did I get it wrong? Was it not today?

No matter what, they wouldn’t drag things out for several days.

Every extra day of delay meant wasting the entire party’s time.

Then an even more ominous thought ran down Song Cheon-hye’s spine.

Or… have they already gone through?

Maybe they had slipped into the dungeon without catching her attention.

Or perhaps they had already finished the raid and leisurely made their way back out.

But Song Cheon-hye shook her head vigorously.

There’s no way.

Ever since winter break, her stealth and tracking abilities had improved dramatically.

And her plan was as close to perfect as it could possibly be.

Then why aren’t they coming?

What in the world was the problem?

Where had everything gone wrong?

Questions kept piling up in Song Cheon-hye’s mind.

Just then, a message suddenly popped up.

[Kim Ho: What’re you doing?]

[Song Cheon-hye: What’s with the message at this hour?]

[Song Cheon-hye: (Suspicious Hedgehog emoji)]

[Kim Ho: Figured you’d still be awake.]

[Song Cheon-hye: I am.]

[Kim Ho: Working? Disciplinary committee?]

[Song Cheon-hye: I can’t tell you that.]

[Song Cheon-hye: (Determined Hedgehog emoji)]

Disciplinary committee members were forbidden from sharing their whereabouts with ordinary students, since the information could easily be abused.

Still, she had been getting bored, so she kept the conversation going.

[Song Cheon-hye: What about you?]

[Kim Ho: Right next to you.]

“!?”

Song Cheon-hye jolted to her feet in alarm.

Starting with the elevators, she hurriedly scanned the area in every direction.

Apparently noticing the sudden commotion, a third-year committee member standing a short distance away called out,

“Is something wrong?”

“…No! Nothing at all!”

Song Cheon-hye hastily brushed it off.

Even so, she continued searching the area, but—

[Song Cheon-hye: You’re not here.]

[Kim Ho: I hit send too soon.]

[Kim Ho: I meant Seo Ye-in’s right next to me.]

“……”

Song Cheon-hye’s fist trembled with indignation.

[Song Cheon-hye: That’s what you were trying to say?]

[Kim Ho: Of course not.]

[Kim Ho: If you’re on duty, make sure to stretch once in a while.]

Song Cheon-hye felt some of her irritation melt away.

Maybe he’d messaged her late at night because he was worried about her in his own way.

And, to be fair, walking around had helped loosen her stiff muscles.

She started to type out a sharp reply, then deleted it and replaced it with something more neutral.

[Song Cheon-hye: Okay.]

[Song Cheon-hye: Thanks.]

Then she let out a quiet sigh as she fixed her gaze on the elevators once more.

Looks like they’re not coming tonight.

The fact that he’d been messaging her meant he was somewhere else.

In that case, there was no reason for her to keep watching only the elevators. It would be better to resume her usual patrol around the area.

However, not long after she started strolling through the floor, Song Cheon-hye received some unexpected news.

“…It was breached?”

One of the B-Rank dungeons in the deeper levels had collapsed.

That dungeon hadn’t been up for bidding today, which meant it had been cleared without authorization.

In other words, someone had slipped past security, completed the raid, and walked right back out.

…Could it have been him?

If so, then maybe those messages hadn’t been sent because he was worried about her.

Maybe he’d just been rubbing it in.

Kim Ho’s face popped into Song Cheon-hye’s mind.

Grinning twice as devilishly as usual as he said, “Just passing right by you~.”

Fzzzzt—

Uncontrollable anger crackled across her body.

That bastard…!

Should she just go drag him back here?

But she didn’t have any proof.

Then again, if she caught him first, maybe she’d find some.

As Song Cheon-hye paced back and forth, fervently plotting Kim Ho’s downfall—

Splish.

A strange sound came from somewhere nearby.

It sounded like a droplet of water falling… or perhaps something sticky latching onto a surface.

She immediately swept her gaze over the area, but nothing seemed out of place.

…What was that?

Had she imagined it again?

Shaking off the uneasy feeling, Song Cheon-hye continued on her way.

Unfortunately, that meant she failed to notice it.

A tiny patch of black slime clung to a corner.

Then an eyeball emerged from it and silently watched her.

Not bad.