ISTV 14

Seila answered again.

“Yes. It didn’t hurt.”

“I see.”

“Is something the matter?”

“I only asked repeatedly because you’re the kind of child who doesn’t show pain. You act in front of everyone.”

Seila flinched for a moment.

‘He’s starting to catch on about [Dignity] and [The Right to Die Beautifully].’

“You were like that that day, too.”

“That day…?”

“Your pulse was gradually weakening. But you didn’t show it at all. All that mattered to you was saving me.”

“…Well.”

Seila sipped her milk and opened her mouth.

Honestly, she didn’t know what to say, so she just let something random slip out.

—Because if you died, I’d be in trouble, kukuru pingpong?

“I didn’t want you to leave me, Brother.”

Oh, that line?

Seila needed Demian to remain strong as the heir of the Devernon family to smoothly pursue the route she wanted—”A World Embodying All Beauty.”

“Why?”

“You were the only family member who didn’t hate me.”

Demian fell silent at the completely unexpected answer.

Seila, sensing an opening, asked,

“Did something unpleasant happen?”

“…No.”

“If I did something wrong to offend you, please tell me.”

“…”

Demian had felt off for a while now.

It felt like he was gradually learning emotions he had no need for in life.

Emotions completely unnecessary for someone who would someday lead the Devernon family—things like jealousy, irrational and draining.

“On the day of your official professorship appointment… I’d like to receive a bouquet from you, too.”

“…Pardon?”

“And also…”

Demian looked at Seila for a moment before speaking slowly.

“Why do you always use formal speech with me?”

It had been bothering him.

She was so casual with Garen, yet treated him with the utmost formality.

Suddenly, Demian came to his senses.

‘What pointless things am I saying?’

“The Levitan herb is good for your health. Tell your maid to brew it well and drink it.”

With that, he abruptly stood up and fled Seila’s room like he was escaping.

Seila stared blankly at his retreating back.

‘So… is he sulking because I didn’t go to the appointment? Because I only gave the bouquet to Garen?’

Was that why his expression had been so stiff this whole time?

Because he was embarrassed he got upset over a bouquet?

Because he didn’t understand himself?

‘That’s not like his character.’

He wasn’t someone to experience such petty emotions—almost machine-like, devoid of feeling.

‘What’s gotten into him? Why is he changing like this?’

And somewhere far away from the world of <All That Grace and Beauty>, someone else was having similar thoughts.

Lee Juhwan stared at the computer screen intently.

‘Errors keep occurring. The AI has stopped deep learning.’

<All That Grace and Beauty> was a game that offered nearly infinite freedom.

The AI continuously learned countless scenarios and routes, producing a wide array of endings as long as narrative consistency was preserved.

But even before the main story had properly begun, the setting and world background kept changing.

‘Some parameters keep locking. Even So-hyun’s custom scenarios and settings are being altered.’

At the center of it all was Seila Devernon.

As administrator, Juhwan found himself unable to interfere. The character’s behavior had become fixed.

‘It’s as if she’s desperately trying to follow the “A World Embodying All Beauty” route.’

Maybe a rival company had planted malware.

Among the many storylines, the “A World Embodying All Beauty” was a reverse harem route—one that divided audiences.

If Lee Sohyun had seen it, she’d have foamed at the mouth and rewritten the whole thing.

But Sohyun was missing.

‘Sohyun… Where the hell did you go?’

<All That Grace and Beauty> had become a global hit, bringing Juhwan immense wealth and fame—but it all felt meaningless.

‘I need to fix the bug. So when Sohyun comes back, she won’t be angry.’

He knew how hard his sister had worked for four years.

“She always said Seila Devernon was a character who should die beautifully.”

But now, he could no longer directly control Seila.

So he’d change the environment around her instead.

‘I’ll make it just the way you wanted. I’ll find a way to kill her, no matter what.’

He saw it as his duty as a brother.

‘So that when you return… you’ll be happy.’

He even announced a personal reward of 3 billion won to anyone who could find Sohyun and formed a special task force to search for her.

Even today, detectives hired from overseas combed through the site of her disappearance—but found no clues.

‘I’ll find you, no matter what. Just stay alive, please.’

DePhelto walked down the hallway, deep in thought.

‘Seila has changed so much.’

The old Seila?

She would’ve been overjoyed just by her father visiting her room.

That’s the kind of child she was.

‘But now…’

Now, she didn’t seem happy.

She remained polite, but didn’t look pleased.

“Are you not happy?”

“Happy?”

“Did I not come to your room?”

Seila didn’t overthink it. She responded casually.

—What, is he full of himself?

“Did you assume your visit would bring me joy?”

“Wouldn’t it?”

“I said I’d do what benefits the family. I’m under constant pressure to show results.”

“So you’re not happy?”

“Not entirely, no.”

“I see.”

DePhelto furrowed his brow slightly.

Seila wasn’t wrong, yet for some reason, it rubbed him the wrong way.

That composed smile of hers… it was irritating.

She used to look at him like a child craving affection.

“The Devernon conference. Have you given it thought?”

“Yes, I have…”

She had considered it from many angles, but concluded that attending the conference herself was too dangerous.

It would introduce too many variables.

“I won’t be participating.”

“But it would benefit the family.”

“Officially.”

“Officially? What do you mean?”

“I’m still a child.”

Seila smiled softly.

In this world, adulthood began with the coming-of-age ceremony.

Seila hadn’t gone through hers yet and still appeared very much a child.

In fact, one was treated as a child until the ceremony.

“I believe children should handle things in a way suited to their age. There are things I’d still like to resolve as a child.”

Seila approached DePhelto and gestured for him to bend down.

Almost entranced, DePhelto leaned in without thinking.

Then he caught himself.

‘What am I doing?’

He had responded to her gesture.

It was undignified behavior for a family head. The chief butler would’ve had a stroke if he’d seen it.

But now that he was bent over, standing back up would be even more embarrassing.

“This is… how I’ll handle things.”

The heads of three great powers—excluding the Central Empire—had gathered in one place.

TemaNon Queibek, patriarch of the swordsmanship haven, Queibek.

Arsagil Mastec, the Mistress of the Secret Palace.

DePhelto Devernon, head of the prestigious magic family, Devernon.

One might expect such a meeting to be solemn and grave, but reality was a little different.

“You still look scrawny, DePhelto.”

“How long will you keep that ballooned-up muscle mass that’s terrible for swordplay, TemaNon?”

DePhelto and TemaNon had been classmates at Somarfi Academy and lifelong friends.

TemaNon chuckled and rolled up his sleeve, showing off his biceps.

“Impressive, right?”

“What part of that is impressive?”

“My biceps.”

“…”

“Want to see my triceps too?”

“Your ancestors must be turning in their graves. The patriarch of Queibek, bulking up like this. Didn’t your sword style always prioritize speed? Compared to your prime, you’ve probably lost 30% of your edge.”

“I may be weaker now, but my sons are getting stronger.”

“Why do something so foolish?”

“It’s cool. It’s romantic.”

“…”

Arsagil, who had been quietly sipping tea, set her cup down.

“My son has probably achieved the highest level of success.”

DePhelto and TemaNon both turned toward her.

TemaNon sighed and shook his head.

“So today’s theme is doting mother, huh?”

Arsagil’s personality and appearance changed with the situation.

Even DePhelto and TemaNon didn’t know her true face or personality.

“How rude. I’m playing the role of a good mother. It’s not a ‘theme.’”

Arsagil Mastec, Mistress of the Secret Palace.

She was a mysterious being.

Able to change her form at will—even her gender was ambiguous.

She preferred a female appearance, so she typically presented as a woman.

The serious and weighty discussions people imagined between the three powers were nowhere to be found.

Instead, these three were simply parents of children around the same age.

“Recently, Jermiel succeeded in summoning a wind spirit.”

“As you all know, Demian was appointed the youngest adjunct professor at Somarfi Academy.”

“My third son, Hamyun, recently succeeded in wielding sword energy.”

They were each talking about different things, yet somehow, the conversation flowed naturally.

While everyone was busy boasting about their children—

Knock knock.

TemaNon, who had been laughing loudly, straightened his posture and smiled kindly, while Arsagil silently covered her face with a veil.

The once-noisy Devernon conference room fell silent and solemn.

“I’m coming in.”

It was Seila.