"No, that's not what I meant..."
I desperately waved my hands and began to explain.
After earnestly deploying every plausible reason, gesture, and footwork at my disposal...
⚙ EEMO ⚙So... you want to return to your home dimension, but Sir Saetbit's charm is too overwhelming, making it a problem?
"Yeah."
⚙ EEMO ⚙...Not an innate power, then.
Eemo muttered to herself, then promptly corrected her own thinking.
⚙ EEMO ⚙Well, it couldn't be that simple.
Phew, at least she'd gotten the rough idea.
Though she didn't seem fully convinced.
Eemo quietly lowered her gaze.
She was silently sorting through her thoughts, without a word.
Deep concern etched her expression, but there was no hint of argument.
Saetbit caught his breath for a moment, then cautiously spoke up.
"Isn't there some way to make it work?"
The end of his voice quivered strangely.
He thought of his hometown.
He couldn't speak of the world before the possession.
Now, the only place he could truly call home was that one—where Anomalies appeared periodically, and supernatural organizations like the Management Bureau and Mage Tower tangled together.
Living in such a world felt familiar yet alien.
Bittersweet.
But somehow relieving, too.
Eemo lifted her head.
Her eyes wavered briefly.
The "charm" he referred to wasn't merely about looks or strength.
It was the density of his very existence—a force that seized gazes across dimensions.
To conceal it was to hide himself.
At that moment, Setang spoke.
🌟 SETANG 🌟Are you trying to hide it?
Innocent curiosity laced the voice.
Her expression held a dissatisfied lack of comprehension.
Like a child watching her favorite candy snatched away right before her eyes.
Saetbit hesitated, then replied.
"If I go there like this, everyone... they'd only have eyes for me."
🌟 SETANG 🌟What's wrong with that?
"...It'd be exhausting. For me."
In truth, it wasn't that straightforward.
The Nameless Entity had shaken the world merely by appearing—and even the World, which had dismissed it as a mere clever insect, had inevitably lost its heart to him.
How could ordinary humans possibly withstand it?
He didn't think they could.
He just lacked the words to explain it properly.
So it irked him to resort to such a simplistic phrasing.
Yet Han Saetbit's earnest plea held more sway than any logic.
🌟 SETANG 🌟Why hide something beautiful...
Her voice dropped lower.
Disappointment mingled within.
The uncomprehending emotion spread like a petulant echo.
Eemo stepped in cautiously.
⚙ EEMO ⚙World.
She took a breath, then continued.
⚙ EEMO ⚙I understand his feelings. And hiding him from the World is impossible.🌟 SETANG 🌟Why?
Hiding Han Saetbit from the World was akin to trying to conceal oneself in broad daylight amid an empty, open field.
And if the one hiding was a beauty so stunning it made eyes bulge, it was even more pointless.
It was obvious with even a moment's thought, but Setang—consumed by emotion—couldn't reach that far.
She was nearly omnipotent, but far from omniscient.
Closer to a child with excessively overwhelming power.
Setang fell silent for a time.
Yet the sky-blue hue gradually faded, replaced by a gentle golden glow spreading outward.
In the wake of her brief sulk, a subtle acquiescence took root.
🌟 SETANG 🌟Fine... because beautiful you wants it.
That single phrase stood for the World's verdict.
Permission granted, even without full acceptance.
Eemo closed her eyes.
She had anticipated this conclusion.
Her reason grasped it, but her emotions struggled to yield.
Amid the quietly flowing sentiments, conviction settled: Even the World can't overcome him in the end.
An entity that crumbled mountains, cleaved seas, and shifted planetary orbits with a flick of the finger.
They fell short of the divine.
And looming above those so-called gods was another existence—one that regarded them as insignificant ants.
Truly, a god above gods.
The World was that.
Yet even that true god wavered before one human's will.
An illogical hierarchy by any measure of their stations, but reality nonetheless.
Han Saetbit held the upper hand; the World deferred.
Saetbit bowed his head slightly.
"Thank you."
At those words, the heavens trembled.
Air currents softened, light diffused, and the very texture of the atmosphere shifted.
The World offered no reply.
She simply conveyed her mood through the glow.
From that day forward, the World and Eemo—reluctantly—began seeking ways to veil Han Saetbit's presence.
And so, one month passed.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
There was a hill.
It was utterly ordinary.
From afar, nothing more than a gently swelling expanse of green grass; up close, only the scent of earth and the weave of wind.
Yet the hill drew the eye inexplicably.
Perfectly isolated in the emptiness around it, it protruded like the world's last remaining landmark.
Amid an endless plain, that single soft slope rose in serene solitude.
With each passing breeze, the blades of grass swayed in orderly waves; sunlight grazing over them sent ripples across the entire mound.
Atop the hill stood a lone cabin.
At first glance, a commonplace wooden structure—but closer inspection revealed an uncanny precision in its proportions.
The roof's pitch was perfectly symmetrical on both sides,
the windows and doorframes aligned flawlessly, even the angles of the gold inlays tracing the walls uniform to the last degree.
No trace of time's wear marred it, yet it exuded a warmth distinct from any newly built edifice.
As sunlight slid along the roof's seams, the surface reflected it with a living subtlety.
Not the gleam of metal, but as if aged wood were breathing in the light.
Before the door lay a small flight of stone steps; beside it stood a single leafless tree.
It appeared dead at first, but faint light pulsed beneath its surface like a heartbeat.
The entire scene harmonized into effortless beauty.
Artificial perfection intertwined exquisitely with nature's wild disorder.
Inside the cabin—even at midday—a soft glow flickered.
Gentler than sunlight.
Too cool for flame, too warm for moonlight.
The light enveloped the interior lightly, lingering as if suspended in the air.
At its center sat a lone figure.
He turned the pages of a book in silence.
His movements were so fluid they were nearly imperceptible.
Each brush of his fingertips against the paper sent the faintest vibration through space.
His presence embodied a beauty defying description.
Before one registered its loveliness, the human eye failed to fully grasp its form.
Only in admiration did it coalesce into shape.
His face wasn't perfect.
It subtly transcended perfection.
Too delicate to call him a man, too resolute for a woman.
Beyond the bounds of gender, he was existence incarnate.
His eyes were deep and tranquil.
Gazing into them brought an odd peace to a hidden corner of the mind—yet their density forbade prolonged stares.
And paradoxically, they stirred a desirous, addictive compulsion to keep looking.
Were he to seduce in earnest, even the most ascetic monk—not to mention eunuchs or the asexual—would succumb to arousal.
His black hair sank like it absorbed the light; atop it draped a thin, snow-white cloth over his shoulders.
Less clothing than light itself cloaked around him.
A single layer, then two; the faintest wind set it rippling subtly, tracing his form.
And upon his head rested a laurel wreath, perched in an inexplicable manner.
No strings or clasps held it, yet it stayed firmly in place.
Silver leaves aglow with captured light quivered faintly, breathing with life above him.
He—Han Saetbit—scratched at his head.
It itched.
But as his fingertips grazed the wreath, it coiled around them excitedly.
With a familiar look, he shook off his hand and muttered.
"Argh, it's doing it again."
One month was no short time.
In that span, he'd grown accustomed to this world and even grasped the basics of wielding his abstract "charm."
Just like now.
"Water, fill this up for me~"
Han Saetbit held out his empty cup and called to the air. Countless water particles hovering nearby reacted at once.
As if they'd been waiting, they rushed into the cup in an instant, jockeying for position like contestants in line.
In mere seconds, it brimmed over.
Before his words could catch up, the water had piled atop the rim like a towering spire.
"Stop!"
At his sharp cry, the water pillar's growth halted.
A perfectly round column now balanced atop the cup.
It looked like it'd been forcibly wedged in, only to be shoved out for lack of space.
Not an inaccurate description.
"These guys are getting faster and faster..."
He gulped down the water, then set the cup on the nearby shelf.
Thud. A single droplet rolled off onto the shelf.
It paused briefly, then—as if realizing it was lagging—jerked in alarm and wriggled back toward the cup.
It finally rejoined the pillar atop the cup, only to be squeezed out once more.
"Huh."
Han Saetbit let out a hollow chuckle.
His gaze drifted naturally upward to his head.
The wreath he wore was called the Ugly Laurel Wreath.
More precisely, the Enhanced Ugly Laurel Wreath.
A gift from Eemo.
An in-game item, its description read as follows.
⚔ ITEM: UGLY LAUREL WREATH ⚔📛 Type: Curse ⭐ Level: 5 🎯 Equip Slot: Head
📝 Description:
An ugly laurel wreath that makes the wearer unsightly.
Said to slightly elevate the wearer's existential rank in exchange.
✨ Effects:
Ugliness — Makes the user unsightly. (Charm -2) Equivalent Exchange — Slightly elevates existential rank. (Physical +1 / Mental +1 / Luck +1 / Charm +1)
He had amplified only the "Ugliness" effect.
The result: a wreath with Charm -3.
In other words...
"And this is level 9..."
My Charm was currently at level 9.
I watched the wriggling droplet for a moment, then carefully extended a finger to lift it.
It clung to my fingertip and refused to drop, even as I moved to place it back on the cup.
Holding fast.
The other droplets, witnessing this, tumbled from the cup onto the shelf in a cascade.
The shelf was a mess of water droplets.
"..."