“Whoa, he’s here, he’s here.”
“They all logged in!!”
The moment Kessler logged in, the couple map app lit up with simultaneous login notifications. He’d checked my location first thing.
“So Kebab-nim, where do we go now?”
“We have to head toward the Wall of Light.”
“The Wall of Light?”
“It’s our final destination—and the hint map that could reset the world.”
[Yeo Woo-rim]: Stay there. We’re coming your way.
[Kessler]: Okay.
Kessler happened to be near the station, so I told him to wait there. His dot on the map settled obediently in place. Seriously, he listens so well.
“Oh wow… where’s everyone going?”
“Take us with you!”
“We’re off to end the game! Good luck, newbies. Pro tip—join the underground team. Highly recommended!”
Bori Noona raised one hand with a confident cheok! and showcased her tour guide flair for the new players.
“Let’s go!”
As we made our way to board the train, word had somehow spread—existing players, having heard we were on our final mission, began swarming to stop us.
But a few scales thrown by Kebab easily held them off.
“Stop them!!”
“Ugh!”
Boom, boom. The scales exploded like bombs, earsplitting and violent. While I instinctively flinched in shock, the others strolled forward unfazed, like they’d seen it all before. Bori Noona even tossed out some advice.
“Act bold, everyone. This is a cinematic moment.”
“…Right. Then I’ll become a fox.”
Hmph.
The word cinematic made me nervous, so I hurriedly transformed into a baby Arctic Fox. Immediately, a man who had been charging toward us froze mid-step.
“Why did you suddenly stop attacking?! We have to catch them!”
“…There’s a baby fox.”
“That’s a player, dude!”
“Still, I can’t hurt an animal…”
Nyang nyang.
[SYSTEM]: You have declared this area as the ‘Peace Zone of the Baby Fox.’
I spun in a circle and pranced past them with a sweet smile. The man who had just been hurling attacks at us grinned stupidly and crouched to give me a high five.
And not long after, I spotted Kessler. The moment he saw me from a distance, he knelt down—and I leapt into his arms.
“The world’s most beautiful fox just ran into Hyung’s arms.”
Nyang nyang.
“Departing nowww.”
We crossed the remaining desert. Here and there, the villagers from the towns that had been unlocked by Kebab waved at us. We passed a few such towns, and when we finally stepped off the train, a vast desert path stretched endlessly before us.
“Huff… how much farther do we have to go?”
“About two more days of walking. Just two more days.”
After three straight days of walking, we arrived. A shimmering wall of light, like an aurora, rippled across the land, dividing it like a barrier.
“They say souls cross the desert in search of this Wall of Light. But not every soul can see it. Only a rare few, those who dream of peace, are able to.”
“Does the rarity make it feel more… sacred?”
Jung Da-hoon opened the guestbook placed solemnly before the Wall of Light. The final messages of those who had passed through were strung together like pearls.
Still in Kessler’s arms, I read them one by one. On the last page were marks left by Iljjang-gwi and Iijjang-gwi.
“These wandering punks—always smoking and drinking, polluting the desert—but I guess they finally managed to find eternal rest. For some reason, I’m kinda proud.”
Nyang.
We slowly flipped back through the pages, tracing the past in reverse. Names of countless children searching for their parents passed by. And on the very first page—a familiar name.
Lord of the Shadow Castle — I finally made it here. Thank you for guiding me, Baby Fox. Live happily.
“Isn’t that the Lord of the Shadow Castle? The one with just the eyes.”
It was a message left for Kessler. He gazed silently at the words, smiling faintly. I’d only heard before that he had granted peace through the system, but it seemed he had actually guided the soul directly to rest.
Now, I finally understood why the in-game timeline had suddenly skipped forward by a hundred years after the beta ended and the official server launched.
That entire time… the child had been searching for peace.
“But Juwon-ssi, if we leave this place, don’t we disappear?”
“That’s right.”
“So now, players won’t respawn at the last checkpoint when they die? They’ll just come back to life on the spot?”
“There’ll be some kind of handicap on resurrection. The details are still under discussion. Maybe reduced proficiency, or wandering as a soul until they find a new body.”
“Whoa, that’s wild. So we’re basically choosing whether to stay here as a chill gamer, or leave and become a fame-hungry hero in the real world. I’m sticking with my usual—perma-late-game.”
I stared at Kessler. The world was transitioning from disposable lives to full-blown RPG mechanics… Was this really the concept they planned from the start?
It did make me wonder if this was a safety net for potential possessors—those who might get cut off suddenly, or to compensate for the lingering effects their abrupt removal caused in the world. A suspiciously rational rework, honestly.
“Should we write in the guestbook too?”
One by one, we scrawled our messages in the book. Then came Kessler’s turn. He carefully wrote something down with serious focus. Then it was my turn.
Seong Juwon ♡ Yeo Woo-rim
…So that’s what he wrote. I just stamped my front paw next to it to finish. This won’t get broadcasted, right?
“Let’s go.”
The first pioneers and sacrifices of the Last Shadow have appeared.
The world will praise your sacrifice, and through your passion and loss, it will continue to expand.
You may now log out and receive your rewards.
A flurry of notifications popped up. I tried logging back in—
[Yeo Woo-rim / Beginner]
And just like that, all our stats and abilities had been reset. The only thing that changed was that we could now choose our restart point.
‘Well, we all agreed to it, but still…’
We lost our powers as the cost of expanding the world. The characters we’d painstakingly built were now erased. It suddenly felt like a massive loss.
I mean, I guess I really did just play support this round. In a way, it was lucky Kebab turned out to be such a wildcard.
His job may have been Undertaker, but his final form was an innocent baby fox—and since he acted through Jung Da-hoon’s avatar, future broadcasts would likely credit Da-hoon instead.
‘Ugh, something feels off about this.’
At the very beginning of Squad Mode, we had to check off that “consent to broadcasting gameplay highlights upon victory” box. There was no going back. With the 1-billion-won prize on the line, agreeing was the only way to participate. At this point, I just had to accept whatever came.
…And, as always, the thing I feared came true.
***
The 1-billion-won prize had already been distributed. Since none of us were the media-friendly type, we participated in a virtual award ceremony and received the winnings individually. Our five-member team was featured on the homepage.
My baby fox character leapt toward the camera in a dynamic pose, flanked by the other team members on either side.
The composition was great, but… it felt like I was too centered.
Below that, bold text read: “Experience the Expanded Realm of Death!”, with the air date for “The First Expansionists’ Adventure Story.”
That was today.
The room was cozy with its tall windows, wooden tile walls, and a central beam projector with cinema-level resolution.
“Welcome!”
“Whoa, your house is awesome. Thanks for inviting us. Here, tissues! May everything in this house flow smoothly!”
It was a belated housewarming party.
Everyone from the group chat gathered to watch the broadcast. It was Saturday at 9PM—a prime-time slot—so even Haru Noona and Kim Teolbo could join.
“There are glasses over there. If you want the full 3D experience, put ’em on.”
“Wow, Woo-rim, this is insane. I want to live here.”
Haru Noona was the first to enter, amazed.
“Hello, I washed up properly before coming.”
Kebab followed, shuffling in carefully. He tried to sit way off in the corner, but Haru Noona and Kim Teolbo dragged him over to sit beside them.
“Man, the air here feels different.”
“It’s just the air purifier. Come on in.”
Soon, everyone had a cup with their name on it and a box of popcorn, and we all settled down.
“Starting nowww!”
“I’m nervous, babe.”
As Jung Da-hoon faked jitters and flirted with his girlfriend, Kessler didn’t just sit by quietly.
“I’m nervous too, honey.”
Casually, he lifted me up and placed me in his lap, then started gently fiddling with my belly fluff.
Eyes on the screen, a little tense, I waited for the commercial to end. Surely they’d edited out the things I requested?
[Please don’t tell him that I can talk in my fox form. I want to preserve his fantasy.]
[F–k this b–s–t game.]
[You f–king psychos. Want me to beat your ass?]
When the screen was suddenly filled with a baby fox spouting cold, sarcastic lines with its mouth open, I nearly screamed.
Even worse, they showed the part where I kicked a disobedient lizard and grinned evilly like a total psychopath fox.
“……”
Then, when Kessler appeared, the fox wagged its tail and smiled sweetly like none of that had ever happened.
…The two-faced fox. Why the hell would they include that scene…?
