During the early planning stages of Last Shadow, Kessler designed it with the memory of a certain someone who had once saved his life—an image shaped by the shadow of that person. And now, the faint impression lingering in his mind had taken form right before his eyes.
Kessler stared intently at Yeo Woo-rim’s profile, who was a head shorter than him and acting completely at ease—yawning like he was watching someone else move house. From deep within his chest, a wave of emotion he couldn’t quite name kept welling up.
He couldn’t help but press his lips again and again to Woo-rim’s soft, round cheek that peeked out adorably above the scarf. In response, Woo-rim bit down on Kessler’s hand like he was grinding his teeth and shoved him away, telling him to stop.
***
(Photo)
Just leave it like this, please.
Shyong-shyong Express
Yes~ Got it.
After peeling off the overly clingy Kessler, I sent the furniture layout to the moving company.
“Seriously, the world’s gotten so convenient these days.”
Now that we had sent a 3D layout of the furniture arrangement to the movers, our job was basically done. So, while the move was underway, Kessler and I went to a café—or more accurately, a PC bang.
The problem started when Kessler unwrapped the scarf I’d tightly bundled around myself.
“…It’s Yeo Woo-rim.”
Because I was always in the training room, I had forgotten that the PC bang was considered a holy site for Nexus Requiem. The kids playing games began whispering, each one glancing over to check if it was really me.
“Yeo Woo-rim!!”
“Hey, is Woo-rim your friend?”
Eventually, Kessler, who couldn’t tolerate stuff like this, stood up and yelled. But come on, Kessler—are you my friend? You’re younger than me.
“Woo-rim Pro hyung, can you give me an autograph?”
“Not right now… Want to hold the pen cap open until I respawn?”
“Do you usually practice at PC bangs?”
“No.”
“Then did you come here to stomp noobs?”
By then, even more elementary school kids had gathered. And since it was a public holiday, more people who heard I was at the PC bang came by to see me.
This kind of thing didn’t usually happen on the streets, but the location made it inevitable.
As more people gathered and kept trying to talk to me, Kessler—who kept dying in-game—finally gave up and stood up, skillfully organizing the crowd.
“Form a single line. Choose either a signature or a photo, not both. No unauthorized touching. Anyone cutting the line gets removed.”
I granted each request during my respawn times, but as the line kept growing, I started to lose focus. In the end, I got up the moment the match ended.
“This is too much of a nuisance for people just here to play quietly—”
“It’s not a nuisance!!”
“It’s really disrespectful to the staff and the PC bang owner—”
“Not at all! We’re incredibly grateful you came, Pro!”
Great. No one’s giving me a chance to slip away. So how do I fix this…?
“Then, would it be alright if I borrowed the front desk for about ten minutes?”
“Of course!”
Suddenly, it turned into a fan signing event. As I stepped behind the front desk, Kessler followed me in. I gave him a look like, Why are you coming in here too? But surprisingly, he took on a crucial role.
“Signings will only go on for fifteen minutes. Don’t ask for more time.”
He must’ve seen this somewhere before. He played the manager role to perfection. Even though I said 10 minutes, he added an extra 5 like he was being generous—which was a smart move, considering how many people were still waiting.
“Hi, I’m a huge fan. I watched your finals video again today… You’re so handsome…”
“Time’s limited. Skip the small talk. Say whether it’s a photo or a signature. The more you ramble, the less time the people behind you get.”
“Photo!”
At Kessler’s words, the boy quickly pulled up his camera app. Snap, snap. After three rapid shots, the boy slinked away, eyeing the people behind him.
“Next.”
“I want a signature.”
Signature. Photo. Photo. Photo. Signature…
“Could you take the selfie instead, Pro? I didn’t wear any makeup today…”
“Everyone, please make sure the PC bang logo is visible in your photos.”
Wait—what the hell is this guy? He even anticipated cases where photos might be misused, playing the perfect manager role. Thanks to that, the owner—now getting unexpected promotion—was grinning ear to ear.
“But why is Yeo Woo-rim here? Is he like a promo model for this place?”
“Maybe his family runs it? I heard he even got free food earlier.”
“They say this PC bang is run by Yeo Woo-rim.”
While I was busy with autographs and photos, Kessler didn’t miss a beat and corrected the false rumors spreading among the elementary schoolers in the back.
“We just moved to this neighborhood and came here because our home internet isn’t set up yet. We’ve got no connection to this PC bang, so don’t go spreading weird stories, kids.”
“You’re Kessler, Woo-rim Pro’s friend, right? You look amazing in person. I really enjoy your camping videos. Could I get your autograph too…?”
“Nope. Next. No weird requests—we’re short on time, so step up quickly.”
Kessler’s firm control made me feel the pressure too. I’d never done a timed fan signing like this before.
“Three minutes left. Anyone asking after that will be sued for invasion of privacy and stalking.”
Kessler’s absurd threat made people laugh, warming the mood. Being good-looking really does make anything you say come off charming and witty.
“You’re seriously good at crowd control.”
“His name’s Kessler?”
As Kessler wrapped up the final autograph right on time, instead of disappointed sighs, applause broke out. People who rushed in after hearing the rumors begged for “just one chance,” but those who had already gotten autographs blocked them.
“He’s not here for an event.”
“Should’ve come earlier.”
“Don’t go pulling stalker moves on the Pro.”
Returning to our seats, we were once again surrounded by gazes—not quite peacefully, but tolerably—and I focused back on the game. I was used to attention, but PC bang attention really hit different… And unlike usual, this time, Kessler was getting those stares too.
With good peripheral vision, I noticed the cameras subtly shifting their focus from me to Kessler. I tapped one of those cameras and redirected it back to myself, adding a dramatic sulk for effect. Instantly, all cameras turned back to me.
‘Feels like everyone’s focusing on my Juwon too much.’
Even if he didn’t show it, being surrounded like this must’ve been on Kessler’s mind too. We were supposed to be investigating how many people were playing final raids at PC bangs… but instead, we were the ones being investigated.
After logging off, I quietly told him, “Let’s go.”
The moment I said it, Kessler eagerly got up, and I grabbed his wrist and led him out of the PC bang.
***
We headed to a nearby Han River spot and made some ramen.
“Don’t you need to check on the house?”
“For premium moves, if we stick around, the workers might feel pressured.”
If my mom heard that, she’d smack me for being immature. “The homeowner should be there overseeing the move! What are you doing?”
But, well… I’d already packed all the little stuff into drawers, and only the big furniture remained. Kessler had taken care of all the valuables by moving them separately into the car.
Although, calling them “valuables” was a stretch… It was mostly Poksup merchandise, baby Arctic Fox-themed stuff, and my childhood photos in frames. Kessler insisted the photo album from my childhood was valuable enough to break a window for, so we had to be extra cautious. But honestly, that was just rose-colored nonsense.
Still, I hoped that rose tint never faded…
I turned from the flowing river to look at Kessler. Our eyes met.
“Kessler, I’m remembering that promise you made—you said even if I become an old fox with all my fur gone, you’d still love me. Don’t forget it.”
“I’m touched. You actually remember that?”
“Of course I do. I know exactly who said it.”
After eating an early dinner, we returned home to find the place mostly unpacked. There had been quite a bit of stuff, but everything had been finished surprisingly fast.
“Thank you for your hard work.”
“Ah, thank you so much.”
While I handed over an envelope with a generous bonus, Kessler started moving the valuables he’d packed into the car back inside—like the armful of baby fox plushies.
Looking around the newly organized home, I let out a sigh. It looked polished, but post-move was always the hardest part.
I rolled up my sleeves. I’d been lazing around all day, had a full meal, and even napped in the car. I was brimming with energy. I’d sort out the essentials by evening—then get back to gaming.
***
“Oh! Woo-rim and Juwon are here!”
“Pro!”
“Welcome! Did the move go smoothly?”
The moment we logged on, we ran into our party grilling skewers in front of our tent. That’s because our tent had the only grill.
“Come eat some skewers, you two! Oh—but can baby foxes eat this stuff? Want some pudding instead?”
“Good evening. This way, please. We’ll serve you delicious food.”
Turns out, there were two others besides their regular group—users SoftOnion and FreshKimchiArtisan. FreshKimchiArtisan was grilling skewers in real-time and handing them out, while SoftOnion sat quietly in a corner, munching away.
The scent of charcoal-grilled meat tickled my nose. There was no way I’d settle for just pudding. This was the problem with using the baby fox avatar. I quickly transformed into a lizard.
“Give me some too. I’m an omnivore.”
“Whoa, it’s Baby Fox Lizard!”
I leapt lightly onto Kessler’s lap and opened my mouth. Huff, huff. Kessler quickly picked the juiciest, most delicious-looking piece of meat, blew on it to cool it down, then cut it into a perfect bite-sized chunk and placed it in my mouth.
Nom nom.
When I smiled with crinkled eyes, Kessler looked thoroughly pleased.
“Is it good?”
“It’s good.”
But still…
“Is the quest over?”
“Nope. It’s still ongoing.”
Unlike with the Shadow Castle, this time the cutoff was determined by contribution points, so since we’d already racked up a high score, our only job now was to avoid running into other players. That was because the participants advancing to the next round were sorted strictly by contribution totals—competition at the top was fierce and immovable, like concrete.
The survival quest has ended. Final contribution point calculations will begin shortly. The top 15 contributors will earn the right to carry on the ‘Mission of the Lizard.’
“It feels like just yesterday we were scrambling to rack up enough points to make it into the top 1,000, and now the final quest is already over.”
“Seriously.”
FreshKimchiArtisan and SoftOnion spoke in a tone filled with reminiscence. Then FreshKimchiArtisan adjusted the headband on his head with a fond look. On it was written the number 2,532—the total number of batches of fresh kimchi he had sold so far.
SoftOnion tightened the strap around his rusty shovel. Apparently, garlic had recently become known as an effective red ant repellent, so with a job title like Garlic Field Treasure Collector, SoftOnion had received tons of collection requests from lizard players and managed to climb up the contribution rankings.
“I barely scraped into the top 1,000 at first, but now my contribution points are in the top 10.”
As someone who had led players in the previous beta server, SoftOnion was performing just as well this time around. Thanks to his skill and impeccable timing, he had climbed to 4th place in individual rankings, but because contribution points could be distributed among team members, he had shared his and kept the whole team securely in the top 10.
‘So it’s already come to this, huh…’
Glancing around the now tightly curated player pool, I felt a twinge of nostalgia. Despite having been preoccupied with real-life stuff and neglecting the game for a few months, seeing everyone joking around and chatting brought back memories of that deep camaraderie we had when only twelve remained during the beta days.
“Shall we do a toast? Can Baby Fox drink alcohol?”
“Nope.”
Kessler poured peach juice into a cup specially reserved for the baby fox-lizard form. Sipping on the sweet drink in the middle of such a warm, cheerful atmosphere… it felt like all my fatigue melted away.
