episode_0005

A massive Erosion Entity erupted from the ground, cutting across the stage and the audience seats.

A sinister purple quadrupedal creature.

No—upon closer inspection, it wasn’t just a simple Erosion Entity.

“…That’s clearly an Erosion Host.”

An Erosion Host.

A being that could be called the medium triggering the Erosion Phenomenon in reality.

In other words, simply put, if that Erosion Host’s breath were cut off, the Erosion Phenomenon could be stopped.

A creature occupying a position similar to a boss monster in a game.

The speed at which this Erosion Host was eliminated often determined the scale of human and property damage.

The problem, however, was that its specs were far stronger than those of ordinary Erosion Entities, and it periodically summoned subordinate Erosion Entities, making it a nuisance to deal with.

‘…A Grade 5? No, closer to a Grade 4.’

I could tell from the Erosion Waves radiating against my skin.

Even if I died and came back to life right now, I wouldn’t be able to take that thing down.

Running away was the right choice.

How could I possibly win against something that usually appears as a mid-game boss?

“Everyone, run!”

I shouted at the top of my lungs and sprinted in the opposite direction of the creature.

No—to be precise, I tried to run.

Then.

—Crackle!

A fragment of the Host launched into the air before landing on the stage.

The fragment writhed for a moment before birthing another Erosion Entity, which immediately began hunting for prey.

Its target? The actor standing beside me.

A violet fist shot toward my colleague’s abdomen at blinding speed.

“Aghhk!”

Maybe it was because I’d had a profession in my past life that involved protecting people from Erosion Entities, but I couldn’t just stand there and watch.

My body moved on its own.

My will to protect someone merged seamlessly with the Actor Persona’s skilled movements.

Synchronization.

That’s what I called it.

“…..!”

My mana surged forward.

Exposed to it, the Erosion Entity altered its trajectory mid-strike, shifting its target from my colleague to me—as if compelled by some unseen force.

I deflected the attack with the edge of my hand while aiming a strike at the creature’s head with my other hand.

But the creature blocked my attack as if it had anticipated it and swung its fist again.

I blocked, then attacked.

It blocked, then attacked.

A choreographed exchange of blows, like something straight out of an action movie.

—Thud!

—Clash!

—Thud-thud-thud!

Literally a technique that forced the enemy to synchronize their attacks and defenses with mine.

A fitting ability for the Actor Persona, whose character was that of a former superhuman-turned-actor.

“Everyone, get out of here!!”

I didn’t have the luxury to check my surroundings, so I shouted loudly in case anyone was still trapped.

No sounds of frantic footsteps.

Had they already escaped safely?

Good.

I let out a sigh of relief internally while enduring the pain radiating from my throbbing fists.

It was getting harder to hold on.

The creature before me was an Erosion Entity spawned by a mid-to-high-grade Erosion Host, so even at the lowest estimate, it had to be around Grade 7.

A Grade 7 Erosion Entity required at least five Grade 7 Purifiers to subdue.

For my current body, which barely scraped the level of a Grade 8 or 9 Purifier, this opponent was overwhelmingly out of my league.

“Hey, buddy… How about we take a little break?”

Half-sincere as the question was, no answer came, of course.

The synchronization’s tempo kept accelerating, and I was struggling to keep up.

Meanwhile, the creature showed no signs of fatigue, effortlessly deflecting my strikes and countering with ease.

If this kept up, I’d lose.

I had to make a decision.

Should I deliberately take a hit to create distance?

Or should I pray its attention shifts elsewhere and make a run for it?

Drawing from my past life’s experience of surviving all sorts of hellish situations, I tried to devise the most rational solution.

But my efforts were soon rendered meaningless.

Because the situation was resolved before I could do anything.

“Step back.”

A sudden chill ran down my spine.

Before I could even question the clear voice that rang out, I instinctively leaped backward, putting distance between myself and the creature.

—Crackle-crackle!

In an instant, the creature I’d been exchanging blows with froze solid, like an ice statue.

My mind blanked for a second at the abrupt turn of events, but I forced myself to assess the situation.

A being capable of instantly freezing a Grade 7 Erosion Entity.

Only one thing came to mind.

“Well, if it weren’t for Yonghee-nim, my debut day would’ve been my last.”

Aerin, floating mid-air amidst a swirling blizzard of white frost.

As if hearing me, she turned her head slightly and spoke in a cold voice.

“It’s not safe yet. Don’t let your guard down. You should run too.”

“…You’re not seriously planning to fight that thing alone, are you? It’s at least Grade 4.”

Aerin was a formidable figure, holding the illustrious title of the youngest Grade 3 Purifier, but taking on a Grade 4 Erosion Host alone was pushing it.

No—in fact, it was nearly impossible for a single Grade 3 Purifier to subdue a Grade 4 Erosion Host.

At least two or three Grade 3 Purifiers would need to team up to reliably take it down.

“There’s no other choice. Waiting for reinforcements is an option, but by then, this place could become an Erosion Zone. I have to hold it off as long as I can.”

If an Erosion Host remained in the real world for too long, the surrounding area would become Eroded Land—an Erosion Zone.

Once land turned into an Erosion Zone, it wouldn’t revert even if the Host was eliminated. It would continuously spew out Erosion Entities and spread Erosion Waves.

Purifying an Erosion Zone required immense effort and resources, so eliminating the Host before the Zone formed was the correct approach.

But I couldn’t shake my unease.

What if Yonghee lost her life or got Eroded because of this?

Such ominous thoughts rooted my feet in place.

“I appreciate the concern, but there’s nothing more you can do here.”

Yonghee’s words severed my train of thought.

Finally, I grimaced and accepted reality.

Right. The only thing I could do now was run.

My presence would only hinder her.

“…Stay safe.”

Gritting my teeth, I fled toward the backstage area.

I didn’t look back.

I was ashamed of myself for running away, despite having reincarnated into the world of a game I loved.

And I couldn’t bear to witness her desperate struggle, knowing my cowardice had led to it.

My heart ached.

After running for about five minutes, I could no longer even feel the chill from Aerin’s powers.

Only the occasional sounds of battle reminded me of her fierce fight.

“…Will she be okay?”

Now that my own life was safe, it was almost laughable how worried I was about Aerin’s safety.

“I’m freaking out.”

If she were to die or get Eroded here, it would cause major disruptions to Infinite’s story progression.

I couldn’t just irresponsibly brush it off with, ‘No way she’d die before the story even starts, right?’

‘Because of me, the holographic concert got delayed and canceled, which led to Aerin fighting right now.’

This mess was ultimately a butterfly effect caused by me.

If I just dismissed it with, ‘Aerin’s a main character in Infinite’s story, so she’ll pull through somehow,’ something irreversible might happen.

‘I have to do something.’

Leaning against a wall, I racked my brain as hard as I could.

Was there something I’d overlooked?

Was there anything I could do to help her?

“There’s no way…”

Just as I was about to let out a self-deprecating laugh—

“…Wait, there is?”

My eyes widened.

‘That… what was it again? A 4-Star Persona Random Trial Ticket?’

Earlier, I’d cleared an achievement by making my existence known to many people and received a 4-Star Persona Random Trial Ticket.

The events that followed were so sudden I’d completely forgotten about it.

Good thing I remembered now.

‘Ideally, I’d save it for a real emergency, but I have no choice.’

A 4-Star Persona was undoubtedly on a completely different level compared to the Actor Persona.

If I borrowed a 4-Star Persona’s power, I could intervene in Aerin’s fight.

‘Please, let it be a combat-oriented persona this time.’

Though the Actor Persona was a former superhuman, their main profession was still acting, so excelling in combat was a stretch.

Of course, even non-combat 4-Star Personas would have considerable power, but a combat-focused one would be ideal.

“Here goes.”

Holding my breath, I used the 4-Star Persona Random Trial Ticket.

Instantly, the scenery before me changed again.

The beautiful galactic spectacle I’d seen a week ago greeted me once more.

The stars forming that galaxy dimmed one by one, until only a single star remained, shining proudly as it approached me.

Then, it began radiating a brilliant emerald light—

And a playful, girlish voice echoed in my ears.

~In the name of love and justice~ I make my grand entrance!

Wait, why was it a girl’s voice?

The moment I realized something was off, the owner of the voice appeared before me.

A frilly pink top and skirt.

Long blue hair tied with a heart-shaped hairpin, reaching down to her waist.

Pure white stockings and an adorable ribbon pinned to her chest.

And a long magic wand tipped with a giant star.

Her name was—

—The Magical Girl of Love, Park Jeonghyeon.

“Huh?”