Became a Swordsman Genius in a Pretty Girl Game

374. An Ordinary Man (2)

*Squeak*—

One by one, the party members gathered into Sophia’s room.

Yuri Lee, Dohee Kang, Sehee Shin, Gageul Lim, Ichika, Alice, and even Seolhee Baek, who had finished all her urgent tasks and returned.

Every party member except Jinyuha gathered in one place.

“You said there’s something serious to talk about. What’s up all of a sudden? And without Jin Yuha too.”

Lee Yuri asked Sophia, having been urgently called in from late-night shield-throwing practice.

Everyone else had also been dragged from their rest, their eyes filled with curiosity.

Sophia scanned them all, then spoke in a heavy voice.

“······Everyone’s here. Okay, then, I’ll explain why I called you. First, could you please watch this?”

*Beep—*

Sophia played a video, and a hologram showing the battle between the masked Jin Yuha and the Spider Queen began to play.

*KWA-THUNK—!*

*KWA-AANG!*

The Spider Queen’s monstrous roar and relentless explosions rang out, amidst which Jin Yuha’s sword moved, seemingly free and ethereal.

Since the video was of Jin Yuha, no one interrupted, silently watching.

“Whoa.”

“Oh······.”

“Seriously······.”

“Our junior’s amazing.”

Especially, Baek Seolhee, who was seeing Jin Yuha’s battle scene for the first time due to her having caught up on backlogged extermination squad activities since the demon gate clearance, had a slight upturn at the corner of her lips.

The sword path, posture, flexibility, ferocity – nothing was lacking.

In fact, she seemed a level stronger than what she had known.

Her disciple was truly a genius.

Honestly speaking, she might have already surpassed her, perhaps.

[ *Kweeeeeeeeee··········* ]

*Shhhk-*

And just like that, it was the moment Jin Yuha sliced the Spider Queen’s neck.

*Click.*

Sophia pressed the remote, stopping the video.

Her party members narrowed their eyes, glaring at her.

As if asking why she’d suddenly halt the video at such a great moment.

“Didn’t you guys feel anything weird?”

“······Weird?”

“Yeah.”

At her words, Lee Yuri stared intently at Jin Yuha’s hologram, now frozen in place before them.

“······I’m not really seeing it?”

And the other party members, as if they hadn’t noticed anything odd either, nodded their heads.

Then, Sophia, lowering her voice further, spoke.

“Just now, the Spider Queen’s sound and the popping noises were clearly recorded, but only Jin Yuha’s voice wasn’t really audible.”

“Oh, uh, come to think of it!”

“What is it?”

“No, maybe he just didn’t say anything? All the other sounds kept playing.”

At Lee Yuri’s words, Sophia shook her head.

“No. Listen here.”

*Bleep—*

[······1-star trash—]

Sophia pressed the button again, and Jin Yuha’s voice came through.

But it cut off abruptly, like it was being deliberately smothered.

“See? They were clearly saying something, but it just vanished mid-sentence, like it was being jammed.”

And, having been summoned here after wrapping up her meal with Jin Yuha, Shin Sehee broke out in a cold sweat internally.

‘······Shit.’

When Shin Sehee erased Jin Yuha’s voice,

she had, of course, taken precautions against someone attempting to restore it.

So, using techniques that would be impossible to bypass with current tech,

she’d blended Jin Yuha’s voice frequency with similar waveforms of urgent ambient noise, effectively smearing it.

Hide a tree in a forest, wasn’t that the saying?

But, she hadn’t anticipated that one of the Utopia party members would suspect anything.

‘So, they’ll ask me. To see if I did something…’

Because she was the only one who would have had reason to.

What answer should she give here?

Spill the truth about Jin Yuha?

Shin Sehee bit her lip, unseen.

Of course, she knew their feelings about Jin Yuha wouldn’t change, even if they knew.

And that the truth—that this world was a simulation of a game, an uncanny copy—could be explained somehow, given enough time.

Just, it arrives.

It arrives not to these ones, but to Jin Yuha.

Today, Jin Yuha opened the door to his heart through a conversation with himself,

but he’s still likely in a confused state.

He’ll probably be alone in his room from now, organizing his thoughts.

He still needed time.

But, in that kind of situation, if all the other party members, having noticed, swarmed him and asked about his past?

He probably wouldn’t be able to hide it, even if he tried.

There were quite a few in Utopia whose feelings immediately showed on their faces, no matter how much they tried to hide them.

‘······No.’

She tried to open her mouth to interrupt Sophia, but Sophia was faster.

“That’s right. Only Jin Yuha’s voice was erased.”

“······Erased? Who?”

‘Ah.’

Too late. Shin Sehee clenched her fist tightly.

However. At Sophia’s words that followed, Shin Sehee’s eyes widened.

“Who else, it’s obviously Jin Yuha himself.”

“······Jin Yuha erased his own voice? Why? There’s no reason for that!”

“Well, saying it like that is a bit… it’s more accurate to say it was erased.”

Baek Seolhee, who had been listening, opened her mouth with a “Hm.”

“······I see. That power of the disciple. It’s surely a liberation from limitations. The overwhelming mana output must have erased his voice.”

“Yeah, I think so too. I can hear all the other sounds, but only Jin Yuha-nim’s voice is gone.”

Sophia nodded in agreement.

‘······What?’

Shin Sehee couldn’t help but feel dumbfounded.

‘Are these people idiots?’

Right in front of them was the most suspicious suspect, and yet they were making up excuses for her themselves.

‘Hmm, is it because I sensed something was off and worked on it the moment Jin Yuha-ssi opened his mouth?’

Whatever the reason, it was working out well for her.

If they’re misunderstanding like this, she can control the timing.

Shin Sehee also quickly put on a serious expression, just like the other party members, and nodded her head like a metronome.

Sophia took out a printed document and handed a copy to each member. The party members furrowed their brows as they took the papers.

“What is this? Trash, initialization, pretty girl, male······?”

The paper was covered in randomly jumbled words.

Yuri Lee, who was staring at the paper, tilted her head.

“What the heck is this?”

She looked at Sophia as if asking what it was all about. Sophia, looking embarrassed, continued in a small voice.

“Well······. These are the words that came out after removing the jamming signal. Um, I was so curious, I posted it on the cafe. To try and interpret what Jin Yuha-nim said in his trance······.”

“What!?”

“You posted technical information on the cafe?”

“Are you out of your *mind*…!?”

The party members’ reactions were utter bewilderment.

“U-Um, I, I also, belatedly realized… I took the post down. I was working with wrong information. I even compensated for it separately… S-sorry.”

Sophia, her mind briefly overwhelmed by the desire to know, apologized, admitting she’d forgotten the basics.

“Sophia.”

But, as if she wouldn’t let this slide, Yuli’s cold voice froze the air in the room.

“Unilaterally leaking party member information is serious. How Jin Yuha’s skills work, what her weaknesses are. What do you think would happen if enemies got hold of that?”

Sophia flinched.

“What you did isn’t something that can just be brushed off with an apology. Do you even realize how many eyes are on our party right now?”

Shin Sehee intervened.

“Haa, I’ll handle that part separately. Since Sophia-ssi said she took it down right away, it should be possible to scramble the information with a little time.”

*At least, I’ve redirected their suspicion.*

But the fact that there was almost an accident meant the way they looked at her wasn’t kind.

“T-Thank you. Shin Sehee-nim.”

As Shin Sehee stepped forward to handle the situation, Yuli sighed deeply and glared at Sophia.

“This time, I’m letting it go because of Shin Sehee. If something like this happens again…”

Yuli emphasized each and every word.

“I won’t let it slide with just words next time.”

“Hic!”

“From now on, even if it’s something minor, anything related to the party, consult us. Don’t forget we are a team.”

“Y-yes, y-yes…”

Sophia nodded, her face pale.

It was clear, without Jin Yuha, the leader of Utopia was Lee Yuri.

Clap.

“Alright, so~”

Im Gaeul clapped her hands, as if trying to break the heavy atmosphere, and opened her mouth.

“Sophia, your little bad habit will be taken care of by Sehee. Let’s just leave it at that. So, what kind of post did you see? Isn’t that why you called us all here?”

“Y-yes, pl-please, take a look at the n-next page…”

*Flip*

At her words, everyone turned the paper and looked at the back.

And everyone’s face hardened.

“Sophia. Th-this…”

“……This, it sounds like the tone of the benefactor.”

“R-really? Our, our junior was thinking like this?”

Sophia shook her head at Im Gaeul’s question.

“It’s just speculation… but, I think there’s a high possibility… that’s why I called you all here.”

Their faces couldn’t help but stiffen.

The words written on the back of the page, were Jin Yuha’s self-deprecation, so desperate it was almost pitiful.

A heavy silence settled in the room. The party members were each absorbing the words in their own way.

*Sniffle.*

“Junior… …”

From one side, Im Gaeul was already wiping away tears.

“I didn’t know my junior was thinking like this… … And yet, all I ever did was rely on them… …”

Kang Dohee bit her lip.

“Nureongi, originally, absolutely hates showing their own weak side.”

She too, was someone who detested revealing her own vulnerable aspects, and so, she could understand Jin Yuha’s heart better than anyone.

“Benefactor, burden… …”

“… …”

And, Shin Sehee, who flipped the page along with them, found it even harder to keep up with the situation.

‘No, what is this?’

It was absurd.

Even in that chaotic noise, that she had accurately picked out several words was one thing.

But that she could construct such sentences with those words.

Of course, posting this kind of information carelessly on the cafe in the first place was a huge mistake.

‘Still, I can fix that part, so it’s okay. But… …’

Shin Sehee looked at the written sentences.

A text riddled with self-deprecation to an absurd degree.

The problem was, it was also ambiguous to completely deny it.

It was like, the problem was that it was mixed with a suitable amount of truth.

What was malicious was that it even used Jin Yuha’s exact way of speaking.

“…You did call Ms. Jin Yuha trash, and belittled her, that’s true. But that was about the possessed character, not about Ms. Jin Yuha herself?”

To untangle this mess, I’d have to explain everything from start to finish.

But if I did, I’d be the one treated like I’d gone off the deep end.

[Actually, Jin Yuha is a possessor, and I cursed the character because she’s trash.]

was less believable than,

[Jin Yuha, burdened by the expectations of being a hero, unconsciously unleashed the pressure she’d been holding inside.]

The sheer absurdity of it all made Shin Sehee let out a hollow laugh without realizing it.

But the party members just moved past it, as if her reaction was completely natural.

That made Shin Sehee laugh hollowly again.

After a moment of pondering what to do, she said,

“…Should we just let it go? It’s not like it’s hurting Ms. Jin Yuha, anyway.”

She gave up.

That’s right.

In the end, the conclusion was to just pay more attention to her and help Jin Yuha value herself more.

It wasn’t actually harmful to Jin Yuha.

Honestly, right now her brain was completely short-circuited, floating in the clouds thanks to that first kiss with Jin Yuha.

Ah, a view only I could see.

The superiority of being one step ahead.

The specialness of knowing Jin Yuha’s real story.

I had to focus all my mental capacity just to keep from letting out a careless laugh in front of the party members.

Even with the sudden level up!

My first ki- with Jin Yuha…

‘Sigh, no, no. Ahem. Now is not the time to be thinking about that. Still, they’d be flustered if the party members suddenly looked different… I should contact Jin Yuha separately.’

And, in Sophia’s room, a late-night emergency meeting to “boost Jin Yuha’s self-esteem” went on until the wee hours.

It was inevitable that I’d be plagued by this worry while more enthusiastically nodding along than anyone else, to not seem suspicious at the meeting,

‘…Um. Are we really doing the right thing?’