I Became a Monster in a T*ash Game

Tick. I rummaged through the watch and checked the previous messages.
Among the Company’s request emails, it wasn’t hard to spot traces of Burkta.
“Recently, there’s been a fluctuation in Blue Crystal mining volumes around the Burkta area. Please verify the crystal fields indicated by GPS and report any new changes in that region.”
Indeed, back then I had seen beasts moving because of the anomaly.
Since the Company’s request mentioned mining volumes, it was clear something had changed in what had been a thriving crystal field.
I glanced at the shelter—it was surprisingly tidy apart from the living room.
Whoever had stayed here must have eaten and slept at the monitor for so long that they ran off without a moment to clean the mess around them.
What on earth had they discovered?
And what research had kept them isolated here instead of returning to human society?
Being from Solar City’s survivor group hinted at the topic, but the exact purpose remained elusive.
Were they trying to control Crystal Blue through Solar City research? Or, having witnessed the city’s destruction, were they attempting to eradicate the crystal fields?
Either way, the researcher was no longer among the living; only soulless data remained here, for better or worse.
Since Whirlwind had ties to some Solar City researchers, this person could also be linked to my father’s past.
Clack. I opened the desk drawer and found assorted odds and ends. At last, I discovered a half-broken digital photo frame.
In the slightly larger-than-palm photograph, a normal family posed. The top portion hadn’t printed properly, so their faces were blurred, but the man and woman—presumably the parents—seemed to be smiling.
A short child looked sulky, as if something displeased them. Another boy, draping an arm over the child’s shoulder, gave an awkward grin.
〈If you’d eaten that candy back then, your front teeth would have turned blue, Sasha.〉
The brief caption below conjured the moment the photo was taken.
Damn. I found myself grieving for someone already gone. I flipped the frame over and shoved it back into the drawer.
“I want to see it too.”
“What’s the point of looking?”
Joo-o’s head popped between my arms. His round skull filled my view, and I almost rubbed it out of habit.
“Ouch. You hit me.”

“I didn’t hit you.”
I shoved his head aside, and he muttered in protest. Using “hit” was probably his way of asking to be petted, but sorry—now wasn’t the time.
I rifled through the remaining drawers and finally found a small electronic chip. It was attached to a uniquely shaped connector, clearly meant to plug into the living room hardware.
Ding!
As expected, when I touched the connector to the case with its row of wires, a new folder appeared.
The filenames—twelve-digit numbers—must represent dates and times. And they dated back over twenty years ago.
I gauged the collapse of Whirlwind and opened a text file. Amid various lines of code were two people’s chat logs.
[Speaker “Seopung” time=auto] chat “Sorry for the delayed reply, Dmitri. I don’t know if word has reached you there, but things have been extremely complicated. To cut to the chase: Whirlwind no longer exists. Given the practical constraints, I want to emphasize that this was the best possible outcome.”
[Speaker “Dmitri” time=auto] chat “What on earth happened? We’ve been steadily updating the experiment you requested on our end. It’s not a complete success, but the Crystal Blue reactions are gradually improving. The world we envision is now not so distant. May I speak with Whirlwind’s head?”
[Speaker “Seopung” time=auto] chat “Unfortunately, you cannot contact him. That’s Central’s decision. Although the disbandment was handled as quietly and peacefully as possible, Whirlwind did pay a price.”
[Speaker “Dmitri” time=auto] chat “I see….”
[Speaker “Dmitri” time=auto] chat “But you yourself weren’t part of Central?”
[Speaker “Seopung” time=auto] chat “We’ll communicate research matters through this channel. Once things calm down, I’ll reach out again.”
[Speaker “Dmitri” time=auto] chat “The media in Goryeo City has been silent. I’ve heard rumors about Whirlwind indirectly—some ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) researchers conducted unauthorized experiments and threatened the city’s safety. That’s the extent of the gossip. My comrades and I collaborated with Whirlwind for years. We deserve the full story.”
[Speaker “Dmitri” time=auto] chat “Hello?”
[Speaker “Dmitri” time=auto] chat “Hello? Are you there?”
[Speaker “Dmitri” time=auto] chat “Hello.”
[Speaker “Dmitri” time=auto] chat “Oh—so this is how a freshman academy student ignores a group project and runs off.”
. . .
[Speaker “Seopung” time=auto] chat “It’s been a while, Dmitri. There have been several politically awkward incidents. We’ve been walking on thin ice here. I didn’t mean to ignore your efforts and run off, and I deeply apologize for the indefinite wait.”
[Speaker “Dmitri” time=auto] chat “Ah.”
[Speaker “Dmitri” time=auto] chat “Finally.”
[Speaker “Seopung” time=auto] chat “Those responsible for Whirlwind were not spared punishment, but some of the groundwork they laid was preserved. However, we’re stuck for now. We hope for better prospects in the future.”
[Speaker “Dmitri” time=auto] chat “We on this side are also risking everything. Are you aware of Solar City’s surveillance system? You surely know why we can’t form groups like Whirlwind and recruit promising talent, and why we chose to cooperate with your research.”
[Speaker “Seopung” time=auto] chat “I apologize again. We can continue discussing the research.”
[Speaker “Dmitri” time=auto] chat “I doubt my comrades will stop trying to reach Director Jin, but I’ve chosen an independent path. No information will be transmitted through this channel anymore. Seek the sunrise directly.”
[Speaker “Seopung” time=auto] chat “When circumstances improve, I’ll share more details. If you change your mind, feel free to reach out.”
[Speaker “Dmitri” time=auto] chat “I’m not sure if messages still go through. Everything has vanished. But I retrieved some of my former comrades’ research while wandering the ruins. Contact me if you’re interested.”
[Speaker “Seopung” time=auto] chat “It’s been a while, Dmitri. I’m glad you escaped safely.”
[Speaker “Dmitri” time=auto] chat “It’s a long story, but in short: a few months ago, Solar City banned researchers from travel and business trips, so I slipped out of the city for my personal research.”
[Speaker “Dmitri” time=auto] chat “Now I endure this tragedy by burning my despair in endless rage. Whirlwind is gone, but I need your help. Of the four former directors, you’re the only one I can still contact.”
[Speaker “Seopung” time=auto] chat “This channel has security issues. I’ll contact you again through another method.”
The date on the last filename was only a few months after Solar City’s calamity.
I scrutinized the multilingual logs, focusing on the name Seopung.
Such a fitting Whirlwind codename. And the note that they were one of the four former directors.
Suddenly, I remembered the log I’d seen at the rebellion stronghold in Jaegang District. The lively, youthful reformers’ trivial chatter replayed vividly before my eyes.
My father, Director Gil, Teacher Jeong, and one more conspirator. Could this erased figure be Seopung?
‘I said the three of us formed the core of this project. Yet you have no questions about that?’
From the day I first viewed my father’s records to now seeing this stranger’s chat so clearly on the monitor, all the pieces fit together. My father and his trusted friends were the four directors. But after Whirlwind’s failure, only Seopung’s trail vanished.
My father rarely spoke to me, but for Teacher Jeong and Director Gil to pretend not to know someone so prominent must mean there’s a solid reason.
[But you yourself weren’t part of Central?]
Director Gil was from Central, and my researcher father also lived there, technically making them Central members.
Yet if Seopung was considered “one of Central,” his status must have been considerable.
Even accounting for Whirlwind’s diverse makeup, it’s hard to gauge just how high Seopung stood.
I stared at the air with a stiff face. A web of theories spun in my head, causing a headache.
Ding!
A clear mechanical tone snapped me out of my thoughts. I raised an eyebrow at the sudden noise, and Joo-o averted his gaze as if pretending nothing happened.
“Did you just take my picture?”
“...The wall. I took the wall.”
“Show me the window.”
“It’s just the wall—I’m in it, Jin Muhae, that’s all.”
Joo-o hurriedly covered his wrist to hide the Link-Watch. I glared at him, and he mumbled a lame excuse.
“It was a memorable scene. I wanted to keep it.”
As always, a stupid, weird reason. He’s truly skilled at killing the mood.