Dr. Asano cleared his throat, his gaze sweeping across the room as the tension grew thick in the air. His eyes landed on the side of the room where Soo-jin was seated, right beside me, her posture rigid and her expression unreadable.
"Ms. Soo-jin, please join me," he called out, his voice steady but carrying the weight of authority.
I felt her shift slightly in her seat, her movements deliberate and controlled, before she finally stood up.
As she passed by me, I noticed the briefest flicker of hesitation in her eyes. For a moment, I wondered what was going through her mind. With all eyes on her, Soo-jin made her way to the front, her steps echoing faintly in the now-silent room.
Her presence commanded attention, not out of charisma, but from the sheer gravity of her connection to Eternal Nexus.
Dr. Asano watched her approach with a measured nod, his expression softening ever so slightly as she came to stand beside him.
The two of them together—the scientist and the former developer—felt like the embodiment of a shared, painful history, a glimpse into the minds of those who once helped create the game that had become our worst nightmare.
"As some of you may know, I'm the one who convinced Ms. Soo-jin to leave Nakamura behind and his dark, twisted schemes when the incident first occurred," Dr. Asano began, his voice calm but firm.
He glanced briefly at Soo-jin, a silent acknowledgment passing between them, before stepping back to take his seat beside Haruki Saito, the president of this operation. The two men nodded to each other, a quiet signal of understanding.
With that, Soo-jin gave a slight nod to the media team, and the large screen behind her flickered to life once more. The lights dimmed, plunging the room into darkness, save for the illumination of the screen that now bathed everyone in a pale, bluish glow.
My eyes shifted between the screen and Soo-jin, whose face was now cast in shadow, though her presence seemed larger than life. She took a deep breath before speaking, her voice clear and resolute.
"I know most of you already know me, but for those who don't, my name is Soo-jin Park," she began, her voice steady yet carrying a weight that made the room feel smaller. "I was one of the lead developers of Eternal Nexus... and with that comes a responsibility I cannot escape." She paused, her fists clenching at her sides as though trying to contain something that had long been buried.
"My goal in this mission is not just to assist or provide insight," her voice sharpened, the raw intensity catching everyone off guard, "it's to reclaim the dignity I shattered when I helped build that hell. I need to destroy the regret that's been choking me for years. I won't let Nakamura's twisted vision stand any longer. I owe it to the thousands of lives already lost."
Her eyes darted toward me, locking on as if searching for something—understanding, perhaps absolution. But there was more—her gaze was haunted, pleading, as though her words alone weren't enough to release her from the torment she carried.
"Thousands of lives have already been lost in these past five years," she continued, "and I intend to put an end to it with the help of everyone in this room."
The atmosphere in the room shifted immediately. A tension settled over us, palpable and thick. I glanced around, catching a few of the others eyeing Soo-jin with a mixture of suspicion and anger. They didn't need to say anything—their faces spoke volumes. To some, she was as guilty as Nakamura.
Soo-jin must have felt the weight of the room shift, the silent judgment thick in the air. Her voice hardened, cutting through the tension with an edge of desperation.
"I know exactly what you're all thinking," she said, her eyes scanning the room, daring anyone to challenge her. "You blame me. You see me as Nakamura's accomplice, as someone who stood by while this horror was set in motion."
Her voice rose, a tremor of emotion breaking through her usually calm demeanor. "And you're not wrong. I carry that guilt with me every day, and it's suffocating. But I didn't come here to be absolved or forgiven. I came here to put an end to this."
Her gaze darkened, her next words filled with venom. "I hate Nakamura. I hate him for what he's done, for turning something I helped create into this twisted nightmare. And I will do whatever it takes to see him fall."
The mood shifted, a subtle yet palpable change. It wasn't trust, not yet—but the edge of hostility had dulled, replaced by something resembling cautious acceptance. Faces once hardened with suspicion now softened, and a few exchanged quiet glances, their skepticism faltering in the face of Soo-jin's fierce determination.
The room, though still heavy with tension, felt lighter. The air wasn't quite so suffocating. It was as if the energy had transformed, moving from accusation to reluctant curiosity.
I leaned back, letting the tension ease from my shoulders, but inside, my thoughts raced. Something about her words had stirred the room. Conviction, maybe. Or desperation. Either way, it was enough to plant the seed of belief, if only for a moment.
Dr. Asano nodded from his place beside the president, subtly acknowledging the shift in the room. Meanwhile, Soo-jin remained standing at the front, her posture strong and unyielding.
Even from my seat, I could see the weight of her past in her eyes, her resolve shaped by it. It was stunning how someone could carry such guilt and still have the strength to stand tall.
Soo-jin's gaze hardened as she gestured toward the screen, where vivid landscapes and haunting images began flashing in rapid succession.
Her voice dropped, filled with intensity. "What you're seeing here—these sprawling cities, those monstrous creatures, the entire economy, the NPCs, every inch of land—they're not just part of a game. They're alive. Eternal Nexus isn't just a virtual world; it's a living, breathing entity."
She paused for effect, letting the weight of her words sink in. "Every element of it moves and evolves, as if it's real. The NPCs think, feel, and choose for themselves. They're not mindless programs. This world adapts, shifts, grows… And it's always hungry for more. It's no longer a game you can control. It's a world that controls you, and once you're in, you're bound to its rules. The only choice you have is to survive—or perish."
Her voice resonated through the room, each word landing with a weight that was impossible to ignore.
"There are quests, bosses to defeat, just like any RPG. But this world is different," she continued, her tone sharpening. "It's alive. With every boss that falls, the world shifts, grows—new landscapes emerge, hidden territories unlock. It's relentless. The world expands like a living organism, feeding on the progress of those inside. There's no limit to how far it can go. Every victory pushes the boundaries of reality, and there's always something new—something more dangerous—waiting to be uncovered."
The tension in the room spiked, a sense of looming threat hanging over every word she said.
She paused, the weight of what she was about to say hanging in the air like a storm about to break. Her eyes darkened, and her voice dropped to a grave tone. "Here's the harsh truth: when the incident unfolded, Nakamura rigged the system to strip every player of their anonymity. The game forcibly revealed their true faces, their real appearances inside Eternal Nexus." She let the words sink in, her gaze hardening as she added, "There was no more hiding. No more masks. He made sure of it—right before he ended his own life."
The room seemed to hold its breath, the shock settling over us like a heavy, suffocating blanket. A murmur ran through the room. Soo-jin's revelation was chilling, but I suspected there was more. I leaned forward slightly, waiting for the inevitable.
"If you want to survive in Eternal Nexus," Soo-jin's voice dropped, her tone growing more urgent, "you must grow stronger—no choice, no excuses. You level up, or you die. The game offers two main paths to power: swords or magic. But make no mistake—the possibilities are endless. The skills, the items, the strategies—they're infinite, shifting to match the very essence of who you are. The game is alive, relentless, constantly adapting to your strengths and weaknesses. And it will push you, break you, until you either rise to your absolute limit—or fall and never get up again."
The weight of her words seemed to hang in the air, heavy with the reality of what was at stake. And then came the part we had all been waiting for.
"As for Nakamura," she said, her voice dropping to a low, almost guttural whisper, "no one knows where he is. Not the players inside, not even us." She paused, her eyes scanning the room, locking onto each of us with a piercing intensity. "But I have a hunch. A theory… and it's the only thing that makes sense."
She leaned in slightly, her tone now heavy with gravity. "Just as Dr. Asano stated with you all, Nakamura is inside the game... and he's one of the players, hiding in plain sight. He's disguised himself, blending in with them, watching. Waiting."
Her words hung in the air, thick with tension. "He's waiting for someone to find him. To expose him. To defeat him. That's the only reason this game is still running. He's playing with us, pulling the strings, and we're the ones chasing shadows."
The room was silent. The weight of her words settled over us like a dark cloud.
The room fell silent, the weight of Soo-jin's words sinking in like a heavy fog. It was a theory—a dangerous, terrifying one—but it was the only lead we had.
If Nakamura was hiding in plain sight, it meant that finding him would be like searching for a wolf among thousands of sheep. The implications were chilling. A single wrong move, a single misstep, and the hunt could be over before it even began.
I could feel the tension ripple through the room, a collective breath held in anticipation, as if everyone understood the gravity of what we were about to face.
Every single player inside that game could be an enemy, a potential trap. Nakamura could be anyone—one of them, watching, waiting for us to reveal ourselves. The stakes were higher than we'd ever imagined.
The silence stretched on, heavy and suffocating, until I could almost hear the echo of our own dread.
Soo-jin bowed her head slightly and stepped back, her part of the presentation over. As she returned to her seat beside me, I didn't take my eyes off her. My gaze was sharp, unwavering—piercing through the calm demeanor she wore like a shield.
I leaned in, my voice low, almost a growl. "Is everything you said true?" I demanded, the weight of the question hanging heavy between us. The room felt smaller, the air thick with tension.
Her eyes met mine, and for the briefest moment, I saw something flicker in them—was it fear, guilt, or something else entirely? She didn't flinch, but I could sense the pressure in her silence. Her voice was steady, but the weight of her reply carried more than just facts—it carried the burden of everything that had been lost.
"It's a hypothesis," she said, her words cutting through the silence. "But it's the only one that makes sense."
I held her gaze a moment longer before I leaned back in my chair, my expression unreadable. I had my doubts, but one thing was clear: this was going to be a lot darker, and far more dangerous, than any of us had anticipated.
However, a small smile tugging at the corner of my lips. It wasn't much, but it was something.
I turned my attention back to Dr. Asano as he walked to the center of the room to conclude the meeting. As I shifted in my seat, my eyes inadvertently flicked toward Soo-jin. She caught my gaze, her expression faltering, confusion clouding her features.
There was a subtle tension in the way she looked at me, as if she couldn't quite read me, as if my reaction had thrown her off balance. Her brows furrowed slightly, her lips parting as if to say something, but she held back. I didn't bother to explain. I didn't need to. She couldn't understand, not yet.
If Nakamura was out there, hiding among thousands of players, playing some twisted game of hide-and-seek, then we weren't just on a mission to save lives. We were about to face something far darker, something far more dangerous than any of us could have anticipated. Little did I know, I'm ready.
The weight of it all pressed down on me, the gravity of our task settling deep in my chest. There was no turning back. If Nakamura was waiting for someone to expose him, we were going to be the ones to find him.
I leaned back, my fingers tightening around the armrest, my mind already racing ahead. This was more than just a game. This is a hunt.
And I am ready... to find the wolf in a sea of white sheep, I thought.