It felt like something inside his body was grinding out of place. Clutching his head, Nigel collapsed to the floor.
“What’s happening? Duke—what’s wrong, all of a sudden…?”
Schumacher’s worried voice drifted in like background noise. He still wasn’t able to grasp what was really happening. He had no idea—just like Nigel once had.
Instead of reaching for Schumacher, who approached him hesitantly, Nigel extended his hand toward someone else.
“Inas…”
In Nigel’s eyes, only Inas existed. Only Inas had meaning. He was the only one who could possibly understand what was happening to Nigel right now.
He had just witnessed a memory—Inas destroying the duchy, charging at Nigel as if to kill him—and yet, strangely, he didn’t feel angry.
Maybe because, in that moment, Inas had been at his most fragile. After holding out for so long, he had finally hit his breaking point.
In some vague, abstract way, Nigel felt like he understood the loneliness Inas had been carrying all this time. A loneliness that no one could understand—hell, that no one could even perceive.
It was terrifying. So much so that Nigel trembled uncontrollably, not even knowing why he was so afraid.
It wasn’t Inas he was scared of.
It was everything else.
He didn’t want to see that again. That vision, that feeling—it was like something was attacking the very core of his being. It was unbearable.
“Nigel.”
A clear, steady voice broke through the chaos. The man who emerged through the sea of warning messages gently lifted Nigel into his arms.
“Inas…”
“Yes, Nigel.”
Nigel clung to Inas like a drowning man reaching for a lifeline, grabbing at him in desperation.
Inas, still holding him, shifted them through space.
They arrived in Nigel’s bedroom.
Still gasping for breath, Nigel could barely breathe. Inas began unbuttoning his shirt, freeing his throat so he could breathe easier. The air flowed easier now, but the crushing headache and the fear remained.
Clinging to Inas, Nigel heaved for breath. Inas, face filled with concern, gently wiped the sweat from his forehead.
“Nigel. Are you all right?”
“S-Something’s wrong. Inas…”
“What is?”
“Schumacher… just now, he was weird, right?”
“Was that a problem?”
Nigel found the calmness in his tone deeply unsettling.
Did Inas really not think anything of it? Had he simply grown used to it?
Can you really get used to something like that…?
Struggling to explain the unease twisting in his gut, Nigel tried to put it into words.
“He didn’t seem human.”
“…”
“Like a puppet… no, more like… like he wasn’t real.”
Inas’s hand stilled. With an unreadable expression, he looked at Nigel.
“It’s not that strange. He’s just data, after all.”
Inas added gently.
<system: Cannot correct error.>
Another warning message appeared, as if the system could no longer keep things contained.
And then, a memory surfaced. One Nigel hadn’t even realized he had.
“You’re nothing but a piece of data.”
A voice, long ago…
Cold. Merciless. Devoid of any warmth. There hadn’t been a shred of affection in that voice. If anything, it had sounded more like contempt.
Shocked to his core, Nigel trembled and stared at Inas.
That gentle face didn’t look like it could ever say something so cruel. But Nigel was sure—he had heard those words before.
“…You said I was just data.”
“Yes.”
“I… I’m not…”
Stammering, Nigel tried to protest, and Inas let out a quiet sigh. Startled, Nigel flinched—but Inas took his cold hands and gently rubbed them, trying to warm him.
The touch only made Nigel’s chest feel colder, like he had swallowed a shard of ice.
“I thought you’d accepted it so easily. But it seems you hadn’t fully realized it after all.”
“Realized what…?”
“Nigel, this world is inside a game. And you are an NPC.”
Nigel’s eyes trembled.
Yes—this was inside a game.
He hadn’t remembered until now, but he’d spent countless hours looping through time…
<Forget.>
<You must forget.>
<Do not remember.>
Each flickering message brought a fresh wave of searing pain.
He gasped, body writhing. It felt like his entire being was being wrung dry.
It hurts. It’s unbearable. Please, stop.
Nigel covered his ears.
But Inas, kind and cruel, gently pulled his hands away.
“Don’t turn away. Listen. You are, as they call it, a supporting character. Not a protagonist—not even an important supporting role. You’re someone whose name barely makes it onto the end of the credits.”
The words were merciless, dissecting Nigel without hesitation.
He tried to pull his hands away from Inas, but the man held on tightly, even leaning closer.
Face to face with a handsomely composed expression, Nigel held his breath.
He didn’t want to look at that face. But voices, like phantoms, swirled in his mind—memories that didn’t belong to him, but did.
“It’s just a game.”
“If you can come back to life, it’s fine to kill.”
“Don’t smile, don’t pretend to understand, don’t love—you’re just a bundle of code.”
He didn’t want to remember. But the voices wouldn’t stop.
They demanded he remember. Accept. Face the truth.
He recalled Inas’s fury in the vision earlier. Even then, he had looked like he truly loved Nigel. But now he wondered—had Inas always only loved him, through all those countless loops?
“…Don’t.”
“But you said you’d listen, Nigel. I’m not originally from this world.”
“I don’t want to…”
“A long time ago, I played this game. Or rather, I read it like a book. Kay was the protagonist. You and Inas were just background characters. Glanced at once, maybe twice.”
“Stop it.”
With everything he had, Nigel shoved Inas away.
I don’t want to remember.
But the man who would’ve usually retreated backed in even closer.
Something unhinged glimmered in his eyes.
“You said you loved me!”
At Nigel’s desperate shout, Inas paused.
“If you love me, then stop, please…”
“But Nigel, you said you’d listen.”
Still, Inas denied him his plea.
“This is only a fraction of what I need to say.”
Nigel blinked. How much more was left?
The story continued.
“I played the game, went to sleep… and woke up inside it. I had become Inas Idenbach, a character in the game.”
“What…?”
Even the hallucinations ringing in his ears fell silent.
Eyes wide, Nigel stared at him in horror. His red eyes brimmed with a raging storm of emotion.
Pain, confusion—all swallowed up in a flood of fury.
He was more shocked than when he found out he was just data.
More than learning he wasn’t even a supporting character—just an extra.
He grabbed Inas by the collar and yanked him close.
Nigel was furious.
So furious it looked like he might kill the man in front of him.
Even Inas seemed surprised by the force in Nigel’s eyes.
“Inas. You… you’re…”
“Yes, Nigel.”
“You’re not Inas…?”
Nigel’s voice trembled.
At last understanding his fear, Inas smiled wide—satisfied by the fury and obsession Nigel was showing.
“I may not be Inas… but I’m also the Inas you know.”
“What…?”
“My first real memory starts just before I met you.”
“…”
The moment he understood those words, Nigel’s grip loosened.
“I still remember it. I’ll never forget. It was the start of winter when I first met you. It might’ve still felt like autumn in the capital, but in Montstein, it was already cold. I was nervous, walking through the manor grounds. The trees were bare, the paths desolate.”
“Yeah… that’s right…”
Nigel could picture it clearly in his mind.
It was unforgettable—his first and last love.
The beginning of a massive, all-consuming affection.
Everything Nigel was now stemmed from that moment.
Inas leaned in and kissed Nigel’s cheek gently before continuing without pause.
“You were still in mourning attire then. The whole castle was draped in black and gray. But the late Duke was already back in his regular clothes. You’d been running a slight fever the day before, so you were pale when I first met you. But the moment I introduced myself, your face flushed like a rose and you ran off. The Duke was furious, yelling behind you. He tried to chase after you, but when you nearly tripped, he gave up.”
“…Ah.”
“So, am I your Inas?”
The anxiety that had churned inside Nigel’s chest like a storm finally settled.
Whether this was the same Inas from birth until now no longer mattered.
If the Inas before him was his Inas, then that was enough.
Inas was never the problem.
The real problem was everything else.
As his strength gave out, Nigel nearly collapsed. Inas caught him gently.
Their faces drew closer—almost enough to kiss. The air turned tense.
Nigel licked his dry lips and managed to whisper,
“Yeah… you are.”
“Good. I wouldn’t want the original Inas to steal you away.”
“Mm…”
Nigel nodded weakly.
Maybe it was the shock, or how worked up he’d gotten earlier—he just wanted to rest now. But he couldn’t leave the earlier conversation hanging.
Haltingly, he tried to recap what Inas had said.
“So basically… I’m a character in a game… and you were a player who somehow ended up in here.”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“But you’re still the Inas I knew.”
“Yes.”
Nigel steadied his breathing.
The blinking windows annoyed him, so he just shut his eyes tightly.
Inas had always loved him.
If Inas wanted him to remember everything, then he’d try. Not because it was easy—because he loved him.
Because he wanted to meet that love, to respond to it.
Because he wanted Inas to keep loving him.
Determined, Nigel opened his eyes again.
The view was clean—no more flashing messages.
“Okay. For now, that’s enough.”
He said it casually, and Inas looked… strange.
“Are you really okay?”
“With what? That I’m fake?”
“You’re not fake.”
Inas denied it instantly, and Nigel let out a dry laugh.
Didn’t he just say I was data?
What’s the difference between that and being fake?
The term “data” was starting to jog old memories—he was beginning to get it.
Nigel gave Inas a weary smile.
“It’s fine. You still feel this is real, don’t you? And you really do love me.”
“…”
“Right?”
When Inas stayed silent, Nigel stared directly at him.
Inas slowly nodded.
“Yes. That’s true.”
“Then that’s all I need…”
“…”
“Sorry, but I’m tired. Is there anything else?”
Inas looked down at him for a moment, then leaned in.
His lips brushed Nigel’s forehead, then pulled away.
“No. I’ll take my leave. Rest well, Nigel.”
“Okay.”
With that, Inas left the room.
There was no usual fuss—no offer to help him change or bathe.
He had clearly noticed Nigel’s trembling.
The moment Inas was gone, Nigel bolted to the bathroom and dry-heaved.
“Uugh…”
He wanted to throw it all up—but he hadn’t eaten anything, so nothing came out.
If only he could vomit out everything he had just seen and heard…
Truth is, it’s not okay.
That cold, contemptuous voice from the vision…
The way he had been treated like a toy.
That Inas, and the one now—they didn’t even feel like the same person. But Nigel remembered. Those conversations had happened.
“It’s just a game.”
That old phrase echoed in his mind.
Inas is real. This world is not. Nigel is not.
Inas loves him. He doesn’t think that’s a lie.
But how could someone truly love something that’s just a bundle of code?
If it were pure love, how could he explain those harsh, barbed words still lodged in his memory?
Had the thorns in Inas’s heart melted away completely, leaving only the man Nigel knew?
Or…
Was Inas’s love really just a long-standing obsession, something closer to affection for a beloved toy?
“…”
With no answers in sight, Nigel dragged himself out of the bathroom and collapsed into bed.
