By Zephyria 
He checked the contact information first. Nothing was wrong. Even so, just in case, he re-entered it character by character.
He tried sending the same message again, down to the exact spacing.
[Message not sent: 228 Recipient does not exist]
As if to confirm it wasn’t a mistake, an error code returned. Mu-hae stared at the screen in silence before shoving his hands deep into his pockets.
He felt his heart sink, but he didn’t make a scene. He looked back on his last contact with Gu-reum in his head.
…She had been fine. Her voice hadn’t trembled with anxiety, nor did she sound restless.
If anything, hadn’t her voice been laced with amusement, as if telling him to get a taste of his own medicine? As Gu-reum intended, Mu-hae had spent a few tedious days stuck in prison.
Nor was she the type of person to cut off contact out of spite just because he hadn’t reported back separately. On the contrary, she was the kind of person who would have reacted coldly if he contacted her too often.
[Hey]
When he typed any random word and sent the message, Joo-oh, who was sitting beside him as if lying down, flinched and looked at his wrist.
“Oh.”
“…”
“Jin Mu-hae sent a message. He sent it to me.”
It wasn’t as if there was a problem with the sending function, which made it strange. Ignoring the guy who was diligently tapping his own wrist at the edge of his vision, Mu-hae turned on the Signaler.
[>>>]
[>>>]
[>>>]
[Target not found.]
Only then did his expression harden. The signal wasn’t reaching Gu-reum. It wasn’t that she was avoiding the contact; it was a situation where the Signaler couldn’t detect her existence at all.
For over twenty years, Gu-reum had maintained a Link Watch modified for the Return flight. She was the only remaining collaborator within Goryeo City who had waited for years for a possible contact from the already collapsed Return. At least, that was the case among the contacts he had obtained from Shin Dae-su.
If such a person suddenly vanished without a trace, it meant either something had happened to her, or she was avoiding Mu-hae.
The contact information he received from Gu-reum was likely a secret channel prepared solely for Mu-hae. Thinking positively, the latter was more likely, but the former could not be overlooked.
Vrrr—.
Just then, a vibration rang out from his wrist, which had been as silent as a grave. He hurriedly checked the content, only to let out a sigh of absurdity.
[It’s Jin Mu-hae]
[Jin Mu-hae is a dummy]
[I like Jin Mu-hae]
[Dummy Jin Mu-hae]
Vrrr. Vrrr. At the consecutive notifications, he ended up thumping the guy’s body.
“You’re right next to me, stop sending useless messages.”
“Whyyy… Jin Mu-hae sent one first.”
Ignoring the aggrieved look, he turned his eyes back to the Link Watch. There was still no response from the Signaler.
Damn it. His already complicated thoughts became even more of a mess. Mu-hae sent a few more messages to the same contact, and only after confirming the error notice the exact same number of times did he finally accept the fact that his connection with Gu-reum had been severed.
His attention naturally shifted from the Sigil of Return to Gu-reum’s situation. Though she was a mysterious and veiled figure, there was no way she would have bolted without a reason or a warning.
“Is Gu-reum busy?”
“I don’t know.”
“She won’t tell you?”
“I said I don’t know.”
Despite the blunt response, Joo-oh didn’t lose heart and clung to him, straightening his back.
Eventually, after stealing a glance at the error message, he fell into deep thought. His wandering gaze landed on Mu-hae’s eyes.
“Should we find Gu-reum?”
“I wonder.”
“What if something terrible happened?”
“Why do you care?”
Even though he acted uninterested, his heart actually skipped a beat. Since Mu-hae had pushed quite a few favors onto her, he worried that her sudden disappearance might be related to him.
Though their relationship was based on an exchange of information regarding the Return, she was strictly a helper who had been with him since the beginning of the journey. He had received too much from Gu-reum to simply ignore and move on.
“Jin Mu-hae. Let’s go to the Taeul District.”
He didn’t understand what he was talking about immediately. When he frowned slightly, Joo-oh hurriedly tapped his own arm.
A memory flashed through his mind. Taeul District. The ASCII Code that had remained on someone’s arm.
“Shin Dae-su.”
“Let’s ask him if he knows Gu-reum.”
“I already know someone who definitely knows her, so why go all the way there?”
“Director Gil is sick.”
I don’t think Teacher Jung will tell us. That was what his gaze was saying. It was exactly as Mu-hae had judged.
Indeed, Shin Dae-su was a man who had contact information for people like Gu-reum or Kang engraved on his body. That didn’t guarantee he knew the identity of the other collaborators, but it seemed like an easier start than blindly searching.
“I’ve already owed him several favors.”
“Let’s ask if there’s anything we can help him with too.”
“I wonder. Would he welcome me?”
“Jin Mu-hae is a hero now.”
His brow furrowed as if he had heard a repulsive expression. Whenever he encountered words like ‘hero’ or ‘upstanding young man,’ he still felt as if he were breaking out in hives.
Still, that reputation had changed Mu-hae’s life. He was now in a better position to help someone than when he was just a slum mercenary.
[Jin Mu-hae]
[Jin Mu-hae Jin Mu-hae]
[I am Joo-oh]
[Jin Mu-hae and Joo-oh]
Vrrr, vrrr, the Link Watch vibrated again. Damn it. Joo-oh had taken a liking to doing pointless things again.
He didn’t know why he was acting like this when it wasn’t their first time exchanging messages. Mu-hae waved his hands to stop him from typing further and checked the time.
“Stop sending them. I need to make a call.”
“Hehe.”
Glancing at the guy who was grinning as if something were incredibly funny, he looked for Shin Dae-su’s contact.
[This is Jin Mu-hae. It has been a while since the last incident. I hope you are doing well…]
He layered on polite greetings that were completely different from the ones he sent to Gu-reum, checking repeatedly to see if any expression was lacking.
Unlike Gu-reum, Shin Dae-su was a fairly delicate person. If one acted politely, like a runaway nephew returning home to pay his respects, he would act troubled but often granted various requests.
Vrrr—.
Before long, his wrist vibrated again, and he shot a warning glare at the annoying Hungry Ghost.
“It wasn’t me this time.”
Joo-oh shook his head with an aggrieved expression. After confirming that the sender was indeed someone else, Mu-hae slowly withdrew his sharp gaze.
Ahem. If you don’t want to be suspected, don’t play pranks from the start.
The guy sitting next to him began to grumble, but regardless, it wasn’t his fault.
* * *
Shin Dae-su is an ordinary worker employed in the industrial district. At least, that’s how it looked on the surface.
A skilled worker who could handle a wide range of simple programs for industrial equipment but had never learned any skills beyond that.
Because of this, he had survived the past years without sharp surveillance. He started a family, had children, and lived a modest life with a salary that was sufficient but not overflowing, remaining off the radar.
If the security force knew that he was actually skilled enough to touch the Goryeo Archives, they would be absolutely horrified.
“I saw it on the news. You’ve become quite famous.”
“It’s nothing. It’s all thanks to the people who helped me. I’m also grateful for that recent terror incident.”
“If you received that much compensation for such a clumsy program, I should be the one who’s grateful. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t worried, but thanks to that, the money was very useful when my second child was sick.”
Even though he had seated them in the corner of a noisy pub, he seemed conscious of his surroundings. As if worried that the conversation, which barely only the person sitting opposite could hear, might leak somewhere.
Yet, unable to completely cut off his interest, he asked secretly.
“Is, ahem, the work… going well?”
“Yes, I feel like it’s almost reaching the final stage.”
“…To be honest, I didn’t think you’d make it this far. I only had a vague hope, but as they say, a tiger’s cub is always a tiger.”
“They said Jin Mu-hae takes after his mom.”
Joo-oh, who had been sitting so quietly he was almost forgotten, suddenly chimed in. Mu-hae stepped on his foot under the table and gave Shin Dae-su an awkward smile.
“Anyway, although things have stalled a bit recently, the goal is in sight.”
“Stalled? Is there perhaps something I can help with again?”
“It’s not to that extent. I’m just looking for someone. Of course, it’s someone related to that…”
He broached the subject while taking a sip of his drink. It was a fairly secret story, but he didn’t look around or lower his voice.
Because then Shin Dae-su would get nervous too. Even now, an uncontrollable anxiety lingered on his face.
“Do you know someone named Gu-reum?”
At the question, Shin Dae-su’s eyes flickered downward. It was toward the part of his arm, beneath the sleeve, where the ASCII Code would be engraved.
‘She should have been in the contact network you took.’ The gaze that met his again was asking. Mu-hae set down his glass and pushed a side dish toward Joo-oh.
“I am looking for a Gu-reum who is not Gu-reum.”
Shin Dae-su understood the cryptic remark instantly. He scratched the back of his neck with a troubled expression.
“Things outside of that work… unfortunately, I don’t know much. Most people are the same. We rarely ever meet face-to-face.”
“Even a small clue would be fine. Is there any information related to her outside of the contact network?”
“…”
Silence fell for a moment. Wahaha! Only the ear-piercing laughter of drunkards from a nearby table could be heard.
Shin Dae-su pondered for a long time, his eyes wandering aimlessly. After distractedly scanning the worn edges of the table, the dim lighting, and the instantly emptied side dish plate, the man finally spoke after much deliberation.
“Is that also… for the Return?”
A man who wouldn’t even utter the word ‘Return’ for fear of being overheard. Mu-hae touched the half-empty glass with his fingertip and answered with that same upstanding face.
“It is for that person.”
He didn’t even know yet if Gu-reum was in danger or simply avoiding him, yet his attitude was remarkably confident.
If she knew, she would have been appalled, saying she’d been scammed again, but well. Since she didn’t know, it was fine.
Joo-oh, who had been coveting the remaining side dishes, opened his mouth with an expression of admiration for some reason.
233 – I Became an Aberration in a Dead Game