episode_0014

The now-familiar scenery of the Milky Way stretches before me.

Countless stars flicker out, leaving only one that drifts toward me.

Soon, a star glowing brightly with crimson light emerges.

Along with it comes a calm yet melancholic voice.

“You and me—we’re all just gray contradictions anyway.”

Dark circles under his eyes, heavy with exhaustion and despair.

A pristine white beret and apron, the kind a painter might wear.

Splashes of colorful paint stain the white fabric like bloodstains.

Multiple tool belts hang at his waist, carrying a chisel, scissors, a metal ruler, a carving hammer, and other art supplies, all smeared with dark red traces.

His name is—

“The Artist Who Turned His Back on the World, Park Jeong-hyeon.”

My third 2-star persona has been decided: the Artist.

My vision returns to the front door.

‘First an actor, then a fisherman, and now an artist? Do alternate versions of me only exist in arts and sports?’

Wait, does fishing even count as a sport?

Anyway.

This one isn’t combat-oriented either.

At this point, it’s not just bad luck.

I’m starting to suspect 2-star personas are exclusively non-combat roles.

“Still, he seems more useful than the actor or the fisherman.”

Above all, his eyes left the strongest impression.

Eyes devoid of life, filled with emptiness.

Just by looking at those weary pupils, worn down by countless hardships, I can roughly guess what kind of life this artist persona has lived.

I used to have eyes like that too, back in the day.

“Let’s check him out.”

Without hesitation, I borrowed the Artist persona.

As the persona took hold, my clothes transformed into those of a painter, and my body underwent subtle changes.

My frame became slightly slimmer, but I didn’t feel any weaker in terms of strength or magic.

His physical and magical stats are probably on par with the Fisherman’s.

“…This feeling.”

My tone of voice grew unnervingly calm.

So calm that it almost radiated helplessness.

“…He’ll do.”

Nodding to myself, I digested the Artist’s experience and skill flowing into my mind.

I picked up the bloodstained chisel and scissors hanging from the tool belt.

Then, I rolled them deftly across my fingers.

Even though it was my first time handling these tools, they spun as naturally as if they were extensions of my own body.

From this, I understood.

The Artist persona specializes in using the art tools on his belt to fight enemies.

“…His lethality is far higher than the previous personas.”

Though not a full-fledged combatant, he’s decent enough to hold his own.

I felt a little relieved.

Satisfied, I gave a small nod.

Then, I slowly opened the front door to head out for my daily quest—

“…Ah.”

For a moment, I forgot to deactivate the persona.

Snapping back to my senses, I immediately released the Artist.

In the blink of an eye, my clothes reverted to normal.

The chisel and scissors in my hand vanished without a trace.

Technically, there’d be no real issue if I kept the persona active while doing the daily quest.

‘But it’d be embarrassing as hell.’

Just imagining myself working out in a painter’s outfit made me shake my head.

It’s better for my mental health to only borrow personas when absolutely necessary.

I’m not an attention-seeker.

Besides, personas are my secret weapons—known only to me.

There’s no reason to expose my trump cards to the world for no benefit.

“Let’s get this over with.”

I pushed the door open with force.

—

[ Daily Quest: ‘Reflecting on Your Improved Self’ – Success! ]

[ Quest Reward: Obtained ‘50 Fate’ ]

“…Hah, nice.”

Jogging along the park sidewalk, I slowed down as the quest completion message appeared.

Catching my breath, I bent over, hands on my knees, inhaling deeply before exhaling.

The crisp air from the tree-filled park tickled my lungs before escaping.

‘This place is close to the main building, so it’s convenient.’

Wandering through this park, I feel a sense of leisure I never experienced in my past life.

Like my soul is blooming with freshness.

“Hah, that’s a bit much.”

I chuckled awkwardly and twisted open the water bottle in my hand, taking a sip—

“Hm?”

The bottle was already empty.

I must’ve finished it earlier.

A faint thirst lingered, bringing mild irritation.

Then, I remembered a café I’d glimpsed on the way to the park.

‘Perfect. I’m thirsty anyway—might as well check it out.’

If it’s good, I can come back. No harm in trying.

With that decision, I trudged toward the café.

Luckily, it was nighttime, so my face wasn’t easily recognizable. No fans stopped me along the way.

After about five minutes of walking, I arrived at the café.

The warm heater wrapping around me felt nice.

The kiosk displayed a full menu.

‘Coffee’s too bitter… Hm, grapefruit ade? Maybe I’ll try that.’

Feeling adventurous, I ordered something unfamiliar.

“Hmm…”

Slumping into an empty chair, I exhaled deeply.

My body was already relaxed, and with the heater’s warmth, my eyelids grew heavy.

‘If only this were my living room.’

I shouldn’t sleep here.

If I sleep, it should be at home…

“EVERYONE, HANDS UP!! DON’T MOVE!!”

A sudden shout jolted me awake.

Frowning, I turned toward the noise.

A masked man held a girl hostage, pressing a dagger to her throat.

“If you don’t wanna see this bitch die, stay the fuck still!!”

His aggressive tone made the situation clear—he was robbing the place.

“You! Bring all the cash here! Now!!”

The masked man barked at the employee.

“Huh!? Y-Yes, but…”

“What’s the problem!? You mocking me!?”

“N-No, it’s just… We mostly take card payments, so we don’t keep much cash here.”

Silence fell over the café.

‘…Did this guy seriously not check before robbing the place?’

“Tch—then just grab whatever you have!! Damn it!”

Judging by his behavior, he wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed.

His sturdy build suggested he had some physical strength, though.

“Hm.”

This situation really doesn’t sit right with me.

Ethically, I’m opposed to robbery, sure.

But more importantly, my drink order is being delayed.

This will likely end in one of two ways:

1. The robber succeeds and leaves. 2. The robber gets arrested.

Either way, my drink will be delayed indefinitely—or worse, canceled.

I’d rather just take him down and end this quickly.

I’m thirsty.

“He seems manageable.”

After sizing up the robber, I muttered under my breath.

In my current state, it might be a bit tough, but I have Persona Borrowing. The real issue is the hostage.

If I act recklessly and she dies, I’ll be held responsible.

Clicking my tongue, I examined the hostage.

Bright blonde hair, heterochromatic eyes—one blue, one green.

Pale skin and a petite frame.

“Hm?”

Wait.

She looks familiar.

As I tapped my thigh, trying to recall, the girl spoke.

“Y-You fool! How dare you lay hands on the noble Dark Flame Master!? Y-You must have a death wish!”

Ah.

That chuunibyou-esque speech confirmed it.

Rachel Bernhardt.

A significant supporting character in Infinite End.

One key trait: she’s a pureblood vampire.

Yeah, a vampire.

A pureblood one.

If memory serves, she hides her identity for personal reasons.

If she used even a fraction of her power, she could subdue this robber in an instant.

But since she can’t reveal herself, she’s playing along as a hostage.

This robber’s luck is terrible.

Of all people, he took a pureblood vampire hostage.

In short, that flimsy blade of his can’t fatally harm Rachel.

Even if he stabs or cuts her, she’ll regenerate.

And having seen all kinds of people in my past life, I can tell—

This guy doesn’t have the guts to kill.

His trembling arms and lips say it all.

This might be a good chance to test the Artist persona’s power.

Who knows?

This might even clear some hidden achievement.

Alright.

Let’s wrap this up quickly.

“Hey.”

“Y-Yes?”

“Call the police for me.”

I said this to a trembling man at the next table before standing up.

“H-Hey! You, pretty boy! I said don’t move!!”

“Could you shut up? This is a public space.”

As the persona activated, my clothes and physique shifted to the Artist’s.

My body grew stronger, my magic reserves expanding.

Perhaps sensing the threat, the robber’s eyes widened as he shouted again.

“Take one more step, and this bitch’s head comes off!? I mean it!”

Try it.

You won’t.

Stepping forward, I fiddled with the tool belt.

“…You’re such a dull color.”

Pulling out bloodstained scissors, I hurled them at him.