One of Chae Eun–woo’s favorite easter eggs in the game that closely resembled his previous life were pojangmachas—street-side bars that felt distinctly Korean.
Before losing his job and everything else, Chae Eun-woo had loved visiting these places after work.
Bowls of steaming jjigae, spicy tteokbokki, and bubbling jeongol paired with soju were his comfort meals. It was his small escape from the stress of working a 9–5 job.
In the game’s world, finding a pojangmacha tucked away within the fantasy setting felt quite odd.
But it didn’t matter.
Now, he found himself oddly grateful to the developers for including such easter eggs in the game.
“Ah.”
As he wandered through the quieter streets of the city, his eyes finally caught sight of it—a small pop-up tent stall.
Though there were likely more stalls in the populated parts of town, Vanitas preferred the stillness here.
The scent of hotpots and kimchi wafted toward him—enough to shake the thoughts of the events that transpired moments ago.
Entering the tent, Vanitas glanced around, hoping for an empty table. The place was modestly filled with people, most likely those who worked late into night.
As his gaze wandered, it caught on something that made him freeze.
“Eh?”
A lock of snow–white hair entered his peripheral vision.
Seated neatly at one of the tables, her posture was impeccable. Her hands rested on her lap as she waited patiently for her order.
She was wearing light–armor. Most probably, had just finished a day of work.
This was his chance to ask her the questions that plagued him for days.
Without hesitation, Vanitas approached her table and sat across from her as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
“Is this seat taken?” he asked casually.
Margaret blinked, startled. “Ah? Uhm—Vanitas?”
Her voice wavered with a mix of surprise and confusion as her gaze darted around the tent, as if searching for someone.
Finally, she looked back at him with furrowed brows.
“….What are you doing here?” she asked.
Vanitas studied her for a moment. Unlike most people he encountered in this life, who regarded him with fear or disdain, Margaret’s gaze held something different.
There was a hint of.… pity. Perhaps, disappointment, if he had to be specific.
It was quite odd.
Finally, he responded, “Dinner.”
“Dinner?” Margaret repeated. “You? In a place like this…?”
“Is it so surprising?”
“N–No, not exactly. It’s just…. you used to dislike food like this….”
Her words brought back memories in her mind.
Back when they were still students at the University Tower—Margaret in the Crusade Department and Vanitas in the Magic Department—their group would often invite him out for dinner.
The moment Vanitas realized it was street-side food, he would wave them off with a dismissive, “I can’t handle the smell.” and go home on his own.
So, this entire situation truly struck Margaret as odd.
“….”
She studied him quietly. Her gaze flicked over him, careful not to let him notice, as he crossed his arms and leaned back, waiting for his order.
Now that she took a good look at him, his usually pristine attire seemed rough and noticeably unkempt.
All of a sudden, Vanitas broke the silence between them.
“What you said back then,” he began. “Regret. What did you mean by that?”
Margaret hesitated, her gaze dropping to the table. She bit her lip before finally replying.
“Ah, that…. It’s nothing….”
“I’ll answer you honestly. You don’t need to hesitate.”
“….”
Margaret remained silent for a moment, fidgeting with her fingers. Vanitas tilted his head, confusion etched on his expression.
Finally, Margaret sighed and spoke. “….That time, when you abandoned us. Do you know what happened to everyone after that?”
Vanitas crossed his arms and leaned back. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, as if processing her words.
“Enlighten me,” he said, his tone demanding.
“Allen was forced to drop out after suffering grievous injuries. Merilda managed to graduate, but she’s not the same. She still suffers from the trauma. Kyle… he lost his arm. Nicolas graduated as well, but he had to take supplementary lessons because of what happened that day. And Roxanne.…”
Margaret spoke quickly as if there was no tomorrow, only slowing down once she started talking about ‘Roxanne.’
“….Roxanne didn’t make it….”
Vanitas opened his eyes. “I see,” he said softly. “And you?”
Margaret froze, her hands tightening into fists. Her lips trembled, and for a moment, it seemed as though she wouldn’t answer.
But finally, she spoke once again.
“I was hospitalized for four months,” she began. “The injuries were… severe. I lost my scholarship and had to repeat a year. Because of that…”
Her voice cracked, but she forced herself to continue.
“….I missed the news of my father’s passing. I didn’t even make it to his funeral.”
“….”
The air between them grew heavy.
It was a dog-eat-dog world where only the strongest, the most determined, and sometimes the most ruthless could hope to thrive.
The notion wasn’t unique in this world. Vanitas knew it all too well.
His former colleagues—people he once called friends—had built their careers after their betrayal. Their actions weren’t out of malice but necessity, or so they justified.
Vanitas, who had once been part of their circle, understood why they did it, but understanding only ended there.
They had ruined his life. He had done nothing to deserve their treachery, yet they had dragged him down as if they were never friends to begin with.
Vanitas could practically recall the case piled against him, his short but traumatic time in prison, and…..
“But…. I don’t blame you, believe me,” she said suddenly. “You had to do what you did to survive.”
Vanitas’s gaze didn’t waver. He had heard those words before—justifications.
They were meant to ease the pain of betrayal, but they didn’t erase the reality of the choices that had been made.
“You were just doing what you had to do,” she continued. “If you didn’t, someone else would’ve trampled you first. That’s how it works, right?”
She let out a hollow laugh, but there was no humor in it.
“Margaret,” he said, looking at her seriously.
“Yes?”
“You say you don’t blame me. But that can’t be true.”
“….”
“Tell me, do you resent me?”
“….”
She opened her mouth to speak but closed it just as quickly.
Finally, she let out a deep sigh, and said, “No.”
“Is that so?”
“It’s been six years,” she continued. “I’ve thought about what happened more times than I can count. In the end, it was our weakness that led to everything falling apart.”
Vanitas tilted his head. “Weakness?”
“….Yes,” Margaret admitted. “We weren’t strong enough to fight back, to stand our ground. That’s what led to all of it. Blaming you…. it feels…. hypocritical.”
Before Vanitas could respond, their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Margaret’s order.
A steaming hotpot was placed before her, alongside other dishes meant to be placed inside the pot. The aroma of spices and broth wafted through the air.
“Enjoy,” the waitress said.
“Thank you,” Margaret nodded her head in response.
As the waitress walked away, Margaret turned her attention back to Vanitas.
“Where was I?” she murmured, stirring the ingredients absentmindedly. “Ah, right. What I’m saying is…. blaming everything on a single person feels pointless. It’s like admitting just how incompetent we were.”
She paused. Her gaze dropped to the bubbling broth.
“You did what you had to do to survive,” Margaret continued. “And you succeeded. It was cold, yes. But it was rational. Now look at you, a Professor. You made it.”
Vanitas crossed his arms. “Is that your way of forgiving me, or are you just trying to justify what happened?”
“Neither,” she said, meeting his eyes. “It’s just the truth. Everyone made choices back then, you included. I’ve learned to live with it.”
Vanitas closed his eyes, leaning back slightly. He murmured softly under his breath.
“Naive.”
Margaret’s head lifted up, staring at him with an innocent look.
“Yes? Did you say something?”
“No.”
“Hm.”
She blinked but didn’t press further, returning her attention to the hotpot before her.
He now had a rough grasp on the situation, from where he stood. The others, whoever they were, had all the right reasons to harbor disdain toward him.
Margaret, however, thought differently.
It truly struck him as odd. Just how naive could a single person be?
From what he knew according to records, it was a demon subjugation exam—a joint combat examination between the Crusade and Magic department.
Yet, the situation spiraled out of control.
An incident that forever stained the reputation of Silver University Tower.
The Black Hollow Massacre.
On that fateful day, over 68 students—many on the verge of graduation—lost their lives.
Vanitas, who had prioritized his own survival above all else, walked away with an A grade.
The exam’s purpose was to simulate real combat scenarios and test the coordination between Crusaders and Mages.
However, neither the students nor the overseeing Professors seemed fully aware of the lurking dangers within the Shattered Dimension.
And Vanitas?
He’d been one of the first to leave. After all, he had secured the amount of points needed to pass the examination.
Using his allies as distractions, he made his way out of the chaos.
He hadn’t stayed to witness the carnage. He hadn’t seen the way the demons overwhelmed those he left behind.
By the time he received his grade, the massacre was still unfolding.
Whether through ignorance or convenience, he likely hadn’t known the true extent of what had happened until much later.
That an Archdemon had appeared.
But there was no use saying that now. He wasn’t the original Vanitas. These were merely conjectures on his end anyway.
Vanitas watched Margaret carefully as she blew on her spoon, a lock of her hair tucked neatly behind her ear. He frowned.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Fwoo~ Fwoo~ Hm?” Margaret paused mid-blow, glancing up at him.
“That’s not how you eat it,” he said.
“Ah?” Margaret blinked, her spoon hovering just above the steaming hotpot.
Vanitas sighed. Without saying another word, he stood up and walked around the table, coming to stand behind her.
Margaret froze, her shoulders stiffening as she felt his presence close behind her.
“W-What are you—?”
Without letting her continue, Vanitas reached over and took the ladle, his hand brushing over hers briefly.
He stirred the hotpot, ensuring the broth mixed evenly with the vegetables and meat.
“You need to stir it properly,” he explained. “See? The flavors distribute evenly this way. Otherwise, you’ll just end up tasting bland soup on one side and overpowering spice on the other.”
Margaret, still frozen, could only nod. “O-Okay….”
“And this,” he continued, scooping a piece of meat from the pot and blowing on it lightly, “is how you cool it. Not whatever embarrassing display you were doing earlier.”
“Embarrassing!?” Margaret exclaimed, her face turning red. “I wasn’t—”
Vanitas ignored her protest and set the ladle back in the pot.
He handed her a properly stirred spoonful. “Try it now.”
“….”
Margaret hesitated before taking the spoon from him.
Slowly, she took a bite. Her eyes widened as the rich, balanced flavor hit her tongue.
Margaret swallowed and muttered under her breath, “It’s not that different….”
Vanitas smirked and returned to his seat. “You’re welcome.”
Vanitas looked around, noticing how everyone was eating hotpot the wrong way.
He shook his head in amusement. It seemed like the developers hadn’t bothered to code in proper dining habits.
Soon, the server returned with his order.
A steaming bowl of jjigae and a chilled bottle of soju. The smell of spicy broth and fermented flavors hit him immediately.
“Enjoy,” the server said.
Vanitas took off his glasses and tucked them into his pocket—or so it seemed.
In truth, he was dematerializing the stigmata hidden behind them.
“When did you start wearing glasses?”
“Recently.”
“Ah, okay.”
He poured a shot of soju and drank it in one quick motion, feeling the sharp burning immediately.
Picking up his spoon, he stirred the jjigae, revealing chunks of tofu and slices of pork hidden beneath the red broth.
The first bite was hot, but he didn’t mind. It was comforting.
“Wow~”
“What?” Vanitas raised an eyebrow, glancing at Margaret mid-bite.
“Just…” She hesitated, as if searching for the right words. “I never expected you to eat something like that. Or to be so… knowledgeable about it.”
“Okay?” He tilted his head, confused by her reaction.
Margaret waved her hand dismissively. “No, no, I don’t mean it in a bad way. It’s just… I didn’t think I’d be sitting here, eating with you like this, after six years.”
In the middle of their meal, the tent’s curtain was suddenly thrown open.
A group of men and women clad in light armor stepped inside. Their presence immediately drew the attention of the other customers.
“Apologies, Grand Knight, we took longer than expected. The situat—” One of the knights halted mid-sentence as he noticed the man sitting across from Margaret.
His eyes widened in recognition. “….Vanitas Astrea?”
“You are?” Vanitas asked.
Before the knight could answer, Margaret raised a hand.
“Ah, sorry, Vanitas. They were actually supposed to join me for dinner, but something came up. They told me they’d handle it themselves.”
“Okay,” Vanitas replied simply, turning his attention back to his meal. He continued eating, occasionally sipping from his soju bottle.
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed one of the knights glaring at him, boring obvious hostility.
Vanitas had no idea who they were, nor did he particularly care. But it was hard to ignore.
Sensing the shift in the atmosphere, Vanitas finished the rest of the soju in one long gulp. With a sharp clink, he slammed the empty bottle onto the table and stood up.
“Thanks for the company, Margaret,” he said.
Without waiting for her response, he turned and began walking toward the exit.
“Wait, you didn’t finish your—” Margaret started, but her words trailed off as her eyes fell on the table.
A neat pile of Rend sat near his plate. It was more than enough to pay for hers and her subordinates’ dinners as well.
“….”
***
Vanitas returned to the mansion, feeling the burn of the alcohol inside his stomach.
Fixing the spectacles, he scoured for anything using the ‘Arwen’ keyword.
▼ Search Results
O Arwen Ainsley
O Arwen Ainsley incident
[End of results]
“….”
Firstly, he checked the first search result.
“Ah.”
———「Name: Arwen Ainsley」———
◆ Age: 20
◆ Stigmata: Unfound
◆ Status: Unknown
▼ Description:
◆ A prodigious mage and eldest daughter of the Ainsley Marquess Family. Arwen was known for her talent in advanced magic. Despite her noble lineage, she was admired for her humility and dedication to magic.
————————————
“Arwen Ainsley…. Silas Ainsley….” Vanitas muttered.
————————————
▼Timeline:
[Act 1]
◆ Arwen’s tragic decision to take her own life on academy grounds left an indelible stain on both the Silver University Tower and the Ainsley family. First-years didn’t know much about her, but second and third-years remembered her clearly. The incident was rarely discussed openly.
[End of Information]
————————————
“….”
From that alone, knowing how Silver University Tower operated, Vanitas had come to a conclusion.
“….The incident has been covered up.”
*
The next day, settling into his office, Vanitas noticed a small letter on his desk.
“What’s this, Karina?” he asked.
“It came from the council,” Karina responded. “I placed it on your desk the moment I saw it, Professor.”
“Hmm, okay. Thanks.”
For some reason, Karina wasn’t meeting his gaze. It had been like that ever since his arrival, as if she was being wary of him.
Vanitas shook his head, dismissing it. It was a common reaction to the named character, Vanitas Astrea.
As he opened the letter, he scanned.
——————
Professor Vanitas,
The Warden of Index has submitted a formal request for your presence regarding a matter of considerable importance.
We kindly request your arrival at Index within the next two (2) days. However, should unforeseen circumstances prevent your timely attendance, you may report on the third (3rd) day.
“….”
He skimmed through the rest.
As he finished he leaned back, and sighed.
“Index, huh?”
At that moment, something flashed in his peripheral vision.
「Special Act: Activation」
.
.
——「Special Act: Index」
「Rewards:」
◆ Understanding: +20%
◆ Numen’s Azure Shard
————————————
“….”