Identical-faced alpha testers had gathered in the plaza.
“Hey, I’ve got something wild to tell you.”
And there I was in the corner, shaping pottery—Tester No. 334.
“This game’s based on a true story, you know that? It’s fucking twisted.”
“What is it?”
“You know how the game’s premise is about a baby who starved to death waiting for his mom while building a sandcastle, and then went dark and kept building up the castle in grief? Turns out, the game’s lead planner actually got abandoned while building a sandcastle as a kid.”
“Whoa, so it’s a personal hit piece on their parents.”
Strings of consonants and vowels like ‘ㅋㅋ’ and ‘ㅠㅠ’ floated briefly in the air.
“They were originally gonna talk about this at the tester recruitment orientation, but pulled it Even as I focused on shaping the clay, I kept my ears perked up, relishing the chance to hear stories that only insiders were privy to. It was a guilty pleasure.
Because everyone looked identical, I couldn’t pinpoint who was who. But since the number of Alpha Testers matched the internal staff count either one-to-one or with a few extras, it was safe to assume there was some truth in their chatter.
That’s when a fierce sandstorm hit.
I had nearly completed shaping the shadow to obtain the hidden class, Shadow Ceramist. Right at the final step of the quest, everything collapsed.
“My pottery!!”
I’d put so much work into it.
The words Quest Failed echoed relentlessly in my head.
***
My breath came out in heaving gasps. When my vision cleared, I saw a familiar room, a familiar ceiling.
“Haah… fuck, just a dream.”
Thankfully, it had only been a dream.
But when I looked around at where I’d woken up, I realized it wasn’t such a relief after all.
Like the Little Mermaid awkwardly flopping around with her new legs, I clumsily pushed myself upright. The crackling fireplace brought a strange sense of calm.
“Ugh… my head.”
A dream from the Alpha Test Server. The most crushing moment I’d experienced. So maybe it was more of a nightmare.
Even after such a miserable failure, I’d managed to survive for quite a while.
I made it all the way to the final ten.
‘Who was the winner again…?’
Back then… there was a huge reward for first place. It couldn’t have been Jung Da-hoon, right?
As I tried to shake off the sleep with a few head jerks, I sensed someone approaching.
The owner of this room—Kessler.
I stared at him.
Seeing him with human eyes gave everything a new feeling.
I used to think it was the difference in eye level that made him look different. But now I realized—
The sheer hostility radiating from his entire body. The deep-rooted misanthropy.
He didn’t like the human version of me, Yeo Woo-rim. He only liked me as a fox.
“Stop rubbing your legs on the floor. You’re shedding dead skin.”
…What the actual hell.
Back when I was a fox, he didn’t care if I shed fur everywhere, wiped snot on his pants, or even pissed in his arms while cuddling. But now that I was human, he scolded me for scuffing the floor once?
“My legs are clean.”
“Shut up and finish what you were saying.”
“What I was saying? Ah.”
Only then did I remember the words I’d spat out in a desperate bid to survive just before passing out.
“I know who hurt the fox.”
Yeah. The thing that had frustrated me to death while I lived as a fox, the truth that had choked me until I wanted to scream.
“It was Jung Da-hoon.”
“And who’s that?”
I was speechless for a moment. He gave me the quest himself and doesn’t even remember the guy’s name?
“You know—the guy who was stirring things up while you were gone, trying to become Lord of the Castle. You issued a quest to find the one who hurt the fox, remember? That bastard’s the culprit.”
“That smug little husk?”
“Yeah.”
“You saw it happen?”
“Yeah, I saw it. Anyway… I told you everything. Just don’t say you heard it from me. That’s it. Take care…”
I felt like I’d done my duty. As I stood up, I ran through the steps I’d need to take once I turned back into a fox.
Whenever I saw Jung Da-hoon, I’d bark at him or tremble like crazy. That ought to be enough of a hint for someone to figure it out and take care of things.
I was about to leave when Kessler stopped me in my tracks.
“So you saw it happen—but didn’t save the fox?”
“Huh?”
“You cowardly little bystander.”
“No—Kessler, that’s not it. Every time I tried to help, you would already be there saving him. Anyway, I’ve explained, so… I’m going.”
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“Is there a reason to stay…?”
“Bring me proof.”
“Can’t you just ask the fox directly?”
“He can’t talk.”
“Then read his eyes or watch how he reacts. What kind of owner can’t do even that?”
“Where is the fox?”
“Well… maybe even in this very room…”
I was hinting that the fox was me, but Kessler just frowned like I was some low-tier flunky playing with words.
“Don’t act on your own without my permission.”
“Yes, understood.”
“I’m calling that Da-hoon whatever-husk in right now for interrogation.”
“Yes, please kill Jung Da-hoon thoroughly. Can I go now?”
“What are you even talking about? Why would I just let you go?”
“Aren’t whistleblowers supposed to be protected or something?”
Kessler barely listened. He had his steward summon Jung Da-hoon.
…Wait, we’re doing a surprise three-way confrontation?
It threw me off, but honestly, the truth would come out eventually. Da-hoon was screwed either way. For now, I’d just play nice and not piss Kessler off.
A few moments later, Jung Da-hoon stepped into the room. He had the posture of someone showing up for a corporate job interview—stiff, polite, composed.
“You summoned me, Lord.”
“Did you find anything from what I asked you to look into?”
“I’m still investigating the fox matter.”
“It’s been ages since I told you. No progress yet? Could it be because *you* were the culprit?”
“…Of course not.”
“Then why are your eyes darting around like that? Speak clearly. I’ve already heard someone saw you do it.”
“W-Who was it?”
Time for me to step forward. I locked eyes with Jung Da-hoon and lifted one corner of my mouth into a smirk.
“I saw it. I saw you trying to drop the fox to its death.”
“Do you have any proof?”
Oh, look at this guy—not even flinching. He’s got some nerve.
“Of course I don’t have proof. That’s because you are the culprit.”
Not only was he taking hits, he was starting a counterattack.
Even while making that comeback, Da-hoon wore a look like, what are we doing, turning on each other like this when we’re all fans of Poksup, and lifted his chin proudly.
“I said I saw you drop the fox.”
“And I saw you licking your lips while looking at the fox. Most noble Lord Kessler, this guy, this knockoff Yeo Woo-rim, is the real culprit!”
Knockoff Yeo Woo-rim? What the hell does that even mean? I snorted at his baseless whining, but then I noticed Kessler’s expression shift.
[System] : Kessler is beginning to suspect you.
Why?
“Both of you stay here. I’m just stepping out to use the bathroom.”
“……”
No amount of excuses would help me now—what I needed was a reaction from the fox.
I told the two to stay put and hurried out of the room.
Then I tried to cancel the human transformation.
[System] : You cannot revert—Baby Arctic Fox is deceased.
Remaining time until fox body regeneration: 7 days.
Panicked, I pressed the command again, but the same message popped up. Again and again.
‘I’m screwed.’
Meanwhile, their conversation was leaking through the door.
“So what’s your reason for thinking that guy’s the culprit?”
“First of all, he enjoys eating meat. I first met him in the middle of the plaza during a meat feast.”
“So you’re saying he was eyeing the Baby Arctic Fox’s tender belly?”
“Exactly. I even personally witnessed him prefer cuts with a bit of fat marbled into the meat.”
“Yeah, he does look like someone who loves pork belly.”
As things were starting to sound like I had targeted the fox’s pork-belly bits, Kessler raised another question.
“…But why did he drop the baby from the third floor?”
“Probably planning to make pork belly stir-fry.”
“Stir-fry? How would that change anything?”
“I think… he was trying natural tenderization.”
“Fucking psycho.”
Exactly what I wanted to say.
I slammed the door open and barged back in, cutting their conversation short.
“Enough, ENOUGH!”
In my field of view, I saw the contrast between Kessler’s deeply distrustful expression and Jung Da-hoon’s smug grin, confident in his supposed victory.
“Don’t let yourself get played by Jung Da-hoon’s forked tongue. And for the record, I reported him first, so let’s just kill that guy and talk after.”
“Your words are rather harsh. I’m sorry, but I was officially appointed as the Fox Incident Investigator before you were, Mr. Yeo Woo-rim.”
…Should I just tell Kessler that I am the fox?
I could name the Golden Hour Hand I gave him for his birthday, or describe in detail our first meeting in the hallway.
There were several things that only Kessler and I knew—if I laid those out, I could flip this whole thing in an instant.
‘But just because I’m frustrated doesn’t mean I can rush it.’
In a situation where Kessler’s favoritism toward the fox might vanish, revealing my identity should be the absolute last resort.
I had to keep myself as separate as possible from the fox identity. And if it didn’t work out—then I’d confess. After all, Da-hoon could never beat me.
“Honestly, I’d love nothing more than to kill both of you right here.”
[—You have been summoned to trial.
Players ‘Yeo Woo-rim’ and ‘Jung Da-hoon’ have accused each other of being the one who harmed the fox.
Prove what is true—and what is a lie.]
The consequences of failing to prove your case have not been disclosed.
But from this moment, I knew exactly what I had to do.
[※ You are in an invulnerable state for the duration of the trial.]
From the moment that clause appeared, I wasn’t afraid of the trial anymore. I turned to the murderer Jung Da-hoon and gave him a warm smile.
Let’s save the word “settlement” for later. Sometimes your enemy today is your ally tomorrow.
Now then.
It’s fan meeting time, Da-hoon.
