The ‘Room of Truth’ was a type of trial that was used by GMs to discern whether a Player was telling the truth.

It was solely up to the Player whether they chose to consent to the trial—but as their Level increased, the Room of Truth became stricter as well.

In other words, the Room of Truth was at the most lenient when one was at the lowest Levels.

‘Not only that, but Kihael is the smooth-cruising type of worker that isn’t very ambitious.’ 

Kihael was certainly not the scrutinizing type that actively dug at areas of concern to uncover the truth.

He had an avoidant personality, preferring whatever work he was assigned to reached its finish without a hitch. He was someone who preferred to draw the curtains on something after sufficient investigation rather than make it bigger.

‘Since I’m a Tutorial-level Player, the Crystal of Truth should be active for one minute.’

In fact, the Crystal of Truth was only active for a minute for all Players below Level 30.

“I can livestream this, right?” Jin-Hyeok checked.

“Well, I don’t have the authority to stop Players from taking actions that are legal,” Kihael answered.

Jin-Hyeok opened his channel. As always, he couldn’t decide on a good title so he just went for a simple one.

[I’m Entering the Room of Truth.]

The viewers began to pour in. In an instant, 8,000 viewers flocked to Jin-Hyeok’s livestream.

It was truly exceptional that a streaming room with a max capacity of 8,400 viewers was able to fill 8,000 of those spots within five minutes of starting a stream, but Jin-Hyeok didn’t know this. He just thought that it could be chalked down to the hot start when he first began streaming.

“My fellow viewers, I’m going to accept the GM Quest and see what happens. What could this Quest possibly be about? I was asked if I’m a regressor just then, actually.”

[You accepted the GM Quest 「Room of Truth」.]

“I don’t know what a ‘regressor’ is, but I’m certainly not one of them.” Jin-Hyeok made sure to state this as soon as he received the notification.

The timing of this statement was critical.

The Crystal of Truth hadn’t appeared yet, so the GM could not discern whether this statement was the truth or not.

Almost immediately afterward, the Crystal of Truth popped into existence. It was a violet crystal that floated in the air, constantly spinning at a fast speed.

If someone were to tell a lie, this crystal would turn red.

“What’s that?” Jin-Hyeok queried, pretending he knew nothing.

“The Crystal of Truth. It turns red if you lie to me.”

“I’m a woman,” Jin-Hyeok tried telling a lie.

Lo and behold, the crystal turned red. Although Jin-Hyeok still didn’t know exactly how it worked, what was for sure was that it was fascinating to watch even now.

“You weren’t kidding,” said Jin-Hyeok.

“It would’ve been interesting if it didn’t change color,” Kihael commented.

“I’m handsome.”

The crystal stayed violet.

Jin-Hyeok was actually joking around to buy some time, but the crystal didn’t change color.

“Wait, what?” Jin-Hyeok said incredulously. “It can make qualitative value judgments as well? How can a statement like that be judged to be true or false?”

“…”

Jin-Hyeok certainly didn’t feel bad about the fact that the crystal stayed violet, but it confirmed once more that the crystal’s mechanisms were indeed incomprehensible.

“So…what truth should I be revealing?” Jin-Hyeok asked.

He had successfully wasted around twenty seconds by purposefully asking silly questions, so there were now forty seconds left.

Kihael quickly got to the crux of the issue.

“Tell me how you were able to adjust to the Beta Service this well and why it seems like you know everything, such as to use the GM call function to control your little ‘situation.’”

“Hmmmm.”

Jin-Hyeok deliberately dragged his answer out.

“I know about the Great Prophet.”

“The Great Prophet?”

“Don’t ask me, that’s just what he claims to be. He’s someone who’s active in an online community under that name. I think he might be an Initial Awakener who Awakened even earlier than I did.”

Although they were small in number, there did exist people who had Awakened before the Cataclysm happened—even earlier than the Players who had undergone Initial Awakening with the advent of the Open Beta service.

In later days, these pre-Open Beta service individuals would come to be called the Beta Testers.

Kim Shin-Won, the Great Prophet, was one of those Beta Testers.

“Anyway, the point is he posed as some sort of prophet and uploaded tons of info.”

Of course, the views on his posts had initially been pitifully low.

The type of comments that his posts normally received were along the lines of ‘Is this some sort of shitty roleplay?’, ‘Don’t feed the troll,’ or ‘Stop trying to be mysterious, it’s lame af[1]’.

Currently, his latest posts were so dead that even those mocking comments were nowhere to be seen—there were literally zero comments.

However, with the long passage of time, Kim Shin-Won’s posts would eventually come to garner fame as new spotlights shone on them.

“See, if you look here…” Jin-Hyeok took out his phone and showed it to Kihael.

One of Kim Shin-Won’s posts was titled ‘The Manual.’

“The Player Manual’s all here, and all I did was study up on it in advance.”

The crystal stayed violet.

“You read that in advance? For what?” Kihael interrogated.

“To prepare for the coming future, I suppose?”

Violet.

“Though it’s not awfully specific, his posts roughly mention the fact that monsters will begin to pop up all over; that these things called Tutorial Fields will also appear; that public safety and peace will be compromised; and that everything is basically gonna go to shit. It’s all written in there.”

The Crystal of Truth’s rotational speed decreased a little. This was an indication that the crystal’s activation period was nearly over.

“So basically, I knew what was going to happen in the future,” Jin-Hyeok concluded.

Violet.

“And clearly, that day has come.”

Still violet.

The Crystal of Truth finally stopped spinning.

Kihael nodded. He whipped out a notepad and wrote something down on it, murmuring to himself all the while.

“Read some predictions by a ‘Great Prophet’... found out about the coming future through these predictions… and was well-prepared for the present day.”

Kihael let the crystal absorb the note he wrote.

“I will now begin a final inspection. Commence perusal of a record of the individual’s past.”

[A record of your past is being perused.]

[Perusal keyword: 「regression」]

Using the power of his Administrator's Prerogative, Kihael began reading a record of Jin-Hyeok’s words and actions for the last three years.

If Jin-Hyeok had been in the high-Level stage of play, his last ten years would have been inspected instead, with a variety of keywords being tested for instead of just one.

The point of this procedure was to scour a record of Jin-Hyeok’s past for any mention of the word ‘regression.’

[The perusal of a record of the past of Player with the Awakened name ‘Kim Chul-Soo’ has found no instances of ‘regression’ being mentioned or admitted. No suspicious instances have been found.] 

Kihael nodded with apparent satisfaction.

Soon after, light shone from the crystal. It then outputs a single, final document—a certificate of authenticity that noted what was said and attested that it was nothing but the truth.

‘That’s it.’

Being a form of legal trial, the Room of Truth applied the double jeopardy rule to the findings. This meant that once a case was closed, it wouldn’t be opened again in the future. Not with similar charges, at least.

The Crystal of Truth finished outputting the piece of paper like it was some sort of printer. Kihael had a quick look at it first before handing it over to Jin-Hyeok.

──────────

[Certificate of Authenticity]

* Matter that was determined: A matter regarding Player with the Awakened name Kim Chul-Soo and their unrealistically fast adjustment to present circumstances, with a related matter of regression.

* Details of determination:

“I don’t know what a ‘regressor’ is, but I’m certainly not one of them.”

.

.

.

“Read some predictions by a ‘Great Prophet’... found out about the coming future through these predictions… and was well-prepared for the present day.”

* Result of determination: Truth.

* This Certificate of Authenticity attests that all that was said was the truth. 

* This Certificate of Authenticity includes a 'Record of Perusal Activity of a Record of Individual’s Past.' Refer to attachment for details. 

* Issuer: Kihael, No. 3 GM of Seodaemun-gu.

──────────

Kihael gave the crystal a little push with his hand, in response to which it printed out a copy of the same certificate. This second copy was for relaying to his seniors.

‘Looking at him now, he might not even really care whether I’m actually a regressor or not.’

Regardless, the important thing was that Jin-Hyeok’s statements had been evaluated by the System to be the truth and nothing but the truth, and that Kihael was finished with all the duties he had as a GM—which was all that really mattered to Kihael.

Jin-Hyeok breathed a sigh of relief.

‘That went over easier than I expected.’

Jin-Hyeok had concerns about the optimal time to tackle the Room of Truth, but thanks to Kihael, that business was done and dusted in that one short sitting.

Kihael also seemed to be in a lighter mood.

“Well, sir, enjoy your playing.”

With that, he was gone.

***

As Jin-Hyeok slowly descended the stairs of the police station, he was met with a familiar face.

“Oppa!!!”

The one yelling as she ran toward him was Cha Jin-Sol.

Jin-Hyeok dodged to the side, avoiding an uncomfortable amount of physical contact with his incoming sister. That was one predicament he’d gratefully avoid.

She hadn’t come here alone—she was accompanied by two other dapper men in suits.

“And who are…?” Jin-Hyeok trailed off.

“Hello.”

“Greetings, sir.”

The two men handed their business cards to Jin-Hyeok.

It appeared they were lawyers working for the transnational corporate giant Googol Face. Cha Jin-Sol had brought two highly capable lawyers with her.

“Damn, your company has some nice benefits.”

To send two in-house attorneys for a new employee who had only joined a few months ago… it confirmed what Jin-Hyeok had heard: Cha Jin-Sol was a much more competent and promising young talent than he would have chalked her up to be.

That said, there was one thing he didn’t quite get.

“If they’re gonna go this far for you, why didn’t they just assign some bodyguards to you in the first place?”

“The security department’s stretched for manpower right now, so there was nothing they could do.”

According to her, it was more difficult to hire a security guard than a lawyer these days.

Jin-Hyeok thoroughly explained to her what had happened at the police station.

“…and with that, I was able to come out with no issue.”

“That’s a relief… a real relief.”

“Were you worried?”

“Are you crazy? Worry about you?”

If she was going to say that, she shouldn’t have had tears welling up in her eyes. She could have been a little warmer with her words, at least.

Jin-Hyeok just couldn’t understand her.

‘How was she able to worry over me so much?’ 

Cha Jin-Sol had clearly been in a state of huge shock. How was she able to make such rational decisions?

For most first-time experiencers of situations like hers, the normal reaction would have been to leave the site of the incident and simply go hide somewhere, shaking with shock. Had Jin-Sol just run home and cried, her reaction would have still been well within Jin-Hyeok’s understanding.

Instead, she had quickly regained her focus, mobilized lawyers from her employer, and came to the police station of her own volition. To give credit where credit was due, it seemed she had some serious guts.

‘I’d barely even seen her for seven years.’

Indeed, Jin-Hyeok could barely meet anyone while he was on his grind to meet the 50,000-hour streaming target. As for his sister, he only called her around once a month and met her in person twice a year, if even that.

Even those times came about because Jin-Sol dropped by to have a meal with him. That was the full extent of their interactions.

Without warning, the memory of his sister before he had regressed bubbled up to the surface of his mind.

The image of his sister’s cold, hard body, rendered that way at the hands of Jeon Nam-Gil.

It was a memory that Jin-Hyeok never wanted to recall, but it involuntarily entered his head every once in a while.

‘If anything, I should be the one trying to be more affectionate.’ 

So how had things ended up like this, with her being the one to care for him?

He had never reached out to her to talk and catch up, and he certainly hadn’t been a good brother by any measure.

Of course, Jin-Hyeok’s whole plan had been to treat her well. But so far, there was not a thing that he had done for her. She should have seen him as a pitiful, pathetic spine breaker.

Jin-Hyeok was admittedly quite touched, wondering if this was what it meant to be family.

Almost on cue, Jin-Sol bluntly asked him a question.

“Are you hurt?”

“No.”

“For sure?”

“Do I look like I would be?” Jin-Hyeok answered prickly.

No matter the fact that Jin-Hyeok was a weak Streamer, there was no way he was going to let himself get hurt fighting against those two-bit chumps. Did he look that weak to her?

He knew that it wasn’t something over which his pride should be hurt, but he couldn’t help it.

“You did get hurt!” Jin-Sol shouted.

Looking closely now, Jin-Hyeok realized that the back of his hand was a little scratched. He wasn’t sure if he had received the wound in the fight moments ago, or if he accidentally brushed it against some hard surface.

Whatever the case, Jin-Hyeok wasn’t sure if something so minor could even be classified as an injury, but Jin-Sol seemed to think so.

“Stay still. I’ll treat it.”

“It’s fine.”

How on earth was she going to survive being that sensitive in this brutal, brave new world?

…at least that was what Jin-Hyeok thought, until Jin-Sol suddenly used a beginner-level healing ability.

It was not an amazing Skill, but it was quite effective for dealing with a light abrasion like this. Seeing how quickly the wound faded away, it was apparent that she was rather skilled and had a considerable knack for this.

“You… have you Awakened?”

“Yeah. Got a problem with it?”

“No, I’m not saying you can’t.”

“Everyone around me’s Awakened as well.”

The future had shifted a bit.

As far as Jin-Hyeok remembered about his previous life, Jin-Sol had never Awakened as a Player even to the point of her death.

‘What’s going on…?’

Jin-Hyeok didn’t care about his future changing. If anything, he was set on proactively changing his future as long as it benefited him.

However, it was a different story if it were his family’s future that was changing too. This was definitely a little concerning.

‘Broadcaster’s Truesight.’

Jin-Hyeok discovered some intriguing details when he surveyed his sister’s info.

[LV18/Babyshark/Blood Priest/Skills/Thousand Days of Prayer]

It was merely a single line of info, but this one line was full of questions like Swiss cheddar was full of holes.

‘Babyshark?’

Babyshark had been the only regular viewer of Jin-Hyeok’s livestream. This angel of a viewer had silently, loyally donated to him and cheered him on from the sidelines for years… and Cha Jin-Sol had the same nickname.

It had to be a coincidence, right?

At least that was how Jin-Hyeok reasoned to himself at first, but this was too much to simply ignore.

‘Their donations had ramped up for the last two months, hadn’t they?’

And as luck would have it, that aligned with when Jin-Sol had joined Googol Face.

Then again, though, Jin-Sol wasn’t exactly the type to be oh-so-kind to Jin-Hyeok.

‘Let’s assume it’s not her for now and move on.’

Jin-Hyeok decided not to bring it up, in case he was about to open a Pandora’s box and get himself into more than he asked for.

Some things were better left unknown—and besides, he felt things could get seriously awkward between him and Jin-Sol.

‘But what’s all this about being a Blood Priest?’