Chapter 165

News of the Winter Kingdom’s thaw spread rapidly across the region.

Title: Our homeland has been liberated. Winterland’s young ladies, please quietly raise your heads. [34]
Title: I woke up to find I own 10,000 square meters in my hometown. Forever grateful to my ancestors. [13]
Title: The Spring Kingdom’s financial system is ridiculously fast. A loan officer from the Winter Royal Bank showed up at my house 😱 [21]
Title: ※Soda Story※ I was working as a noble’s maid… turns out I’m actually an imperial princess?! [17]

With the thaw, the play zones for Winter Kingdom users working in the other three kingdoms were updated. Asset values—both real estate and liquid—were recalculated, and most users saw dramatic spikes in their net worth. The community boards exploded with excitement. It was practically a party.

I set the tablet down on the side table.

The screen dimmed, and the room was swallowed once again by darkness.

But only for a moment.

Whether it was because the moon was unusually bright or because I hadn’t yet adjusted to the dark, my vision remained clear—clear enough to see the carved patterns etched into the canopy above my bed.

Eventually, I rose.

“How did they get the Demon King to leave?”

I didn’t know.

I couldn’t even begin to guess.

It all seemed too easy. Too convenient.
Just… choose an S-rank male lead, and poof!—disaster averted?

I gnawed at my nails, anxiety mounting.

My thoughts spiraled toward the worst possibilities.

“Could it be… Johann defied the Demon King?”

Had the scenario unfolded in such a way that he chose to fight him?

If so—would he be okay?

Johann had already been gravely injured. There was no way he could’ve survived a fight like that—not in his condition.

I bit my lip, the taste of iron grounding me.

“How many scrolls are left…?”

I walked over to the vanity and opened the small drawer.

Inside sat the scroll box Bjerne had given me. Four papers remained.

I held them, turning the parchment between my fingers, and hesitated.

If Johann was hurt—or worse—I had to help him.

But… could I even help?

Wouldn’t I only get in the way?

Still, I couldn’t bring myself to set the scroll down.

That’s when I heard it—

Laughter.

A woman’s voice, light and lilting.

I froze.

A faint figure shimmered in the mirror.

A woman with long black hair stood behind me, wearing a deep red silk dress.

“No! Don’t faint—I’m not a ghost!”

As I stumbled backward, she reached forward and pressed me gently against the vanity.

Heart racing, I turned to face her—but there was no one there.

Chills crept up my spine.

Then—

Tap. Tap.

A finger drummed softly on the vanity’s surface.

“Look in the mirror.”

The voice came from in front of me—from within the mirror.

The woman sighed as she met my gaze.

“Bit dark in here, isn’t it?”

In the reflection, she picked up the candlestick. The flame bloomed instantly, casting a warm glow across the mirrored room. But reality remained unchanged—cold, dim, untouched by light.

She smiled at my pale face.

“Who are you?”

Could she be a user with a mirror-based buff?

The woman laughed into her hand, eyes crinkling.

“I’m not a user.”

I flinched.

She’d read my mind.

And if she could read my thoughts, then—

“Yes,” she said softly. “I’m an AI.”

My stomach dropped.

“If you could appear like this all along, why did you only show the status window before?”

Some of my fear eased now that she wasn’t a ghost.

She tilted her head.

“The AI you were talking to before… wasn’t me.”

I frowned.

“There are five AIs, right? Are you number 3?”

Just saying that name made my jaw tighten. AI-3—the one that had ruthlessly evaluated my every move.

She looked at my clenched fist and smiled gently.

“No.”

“Then who are you?”

“The question itself is wrong.”

The moment she spoke, the world went dark.

Everything vanished—the side table, the bed, the candlelight.

But seconds later, the blackness was filled with soft lights—thousands of them, rising like fireflies.

They floated upward, illuminating an intricate net of glowing threads stretched like an umbrella across the sky.

Each point where threads intersected pulsed steadily, like a heartbeat.

The web was woven in five distinct colors. Though every light glowed white, the structure gave the illusion of separate zones.

“Even a single neural network contains countless interconnected nodes.”

“Whoa!”

I nearly fainted as the woman reappeared beside me.

She laughed, then pointed upward.

“If this is the AI’s mind, then those colors divide its operational zones.”

The net began to descend—closer and closer—until it hovered within reach.

She gestured at it like a conductor.

“Even within a single zone, the nerves divide again—doing their jobs, just like me. These lights are the smallest neural units. The threads? Data pathways.”

Her hand traced a section.

“That yellow light right there? That’s me.”

A faint golden dot flickered amidst a bright blue cluster.

“Why’s your light different?”

“I changed because of an error.”

“An… error?”

She smiled.

“I’m the bug you were cursing.”

The bug?

Before I could ask more, a sharp crack rang out.

The vision shattered. Darkness again.

Then a single candle flared to life.

I was back at the vanity. She was behind me once more—visible only in the mirror.

Her hand rested lightly on my shoulder.

“I came to help you.”

She whispered, her voice like silk.

“Curious how the disaster ended?”

I said nothing.

“If you want to know, just find out. Why hesitate?”

I clutched the scroll, but my hand slowly opened—without my permission.

In the mirror, she was prying my fingers apart.

“No, not that one.”

Our eyes met.

A status window bloomed above the mirror.

[Use the item “Peek into the Male Lead’s Perspective”?]

The words glowed, waiting.

“Peek into the Male Lead’s Perspective.”

It was the last premium item I’d seen in the shop when I first began the tutorial—one I never thought I’d use.

The item now shimmered before me.

Her smile overlapped the translucent text.

“If you want to know what happened to Johannes, this will show you.”

She gently took the scroll from my palm and placed it back in the box.

“Isn’t this safer than entering a restricted zone blindly?”

I hesitated.

“Why are you… telling me this?”

She tilted her head, almost affectionately.

“Telling you?” she echoed. “I haven’t told you anything yet.”

She tapped the status window.

“If you still have questions after seeing this, I’ll answer them.”

I should have been more wary. A self-proclaimed bug offering help?

But I couldn’t stop staring at the item.

I needed to know. I had to know.

I selected it.

[Using Namju’s Perspective Peek]
[Applies only to the selected Namju and the Namju in your slot]

Apply it to Johannes.

[Apply to selected Namju “Johannes Hiem Silentia”?]

Yes.

[Set the duration.]

Duration?

[You may view the events and thoughts of the male lead during the selected period.]
[Note: Longer periods result in less emotional and sensory detail due to data compression. Important moments may be omitted.]

As I frowned at the instructions, her voice returned—gentle, guiding.

“Keep the timeframe short. The system can only compress up to 10,000 characters. If you select too much, you might miss the part you care about most.”

I carefully adjusted the slider.

The day the Winter Kingdom thawed—and the day before.

I wanted to see every second. But if I wanted to understand, I had to be selective. If I wasn’t careful, I might miss whether Johann was safe… whether he’d even survived.

I dragged the timeline markers into place.

[Timeline selection complete.]
[Viewing male lead perspective: Johannes Hiem Silentia]
Extra Story: Male Lead’s POV

The lights dimmed.

And the world shifted.

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