Put some saliva in my mouth.
It’s my mouth, after all.
[“How about giving me back control of my body first, then we talk?”]
“There are a few conditions. Will you hear me out?”
[“What?!”]
“First, just let me take control for a bit. The reason you can’t move is because your giant spirit is resisting, even if your intelligence isn’t that high. You’re under a buff, aren’t you?”
[“Is intelligence tied to the mind?”]
“What, is this a world so medically backward that you think with your heart? Or maybe you’ve killed fewer people.”
[“Why would I trust you enough to hand over control? No way.”]
Hand myself over to the being that’s taken over my body?
What if it grabs a kitchen knife and stabs me in the throat? How am I supposed to deal with that?
It’s a good thing I’m stuck lying here like I’m under sleep paralysis.
It seems I’m resisting to some extent.
“It seems my sincerity isn’t getting through. Your intelligence is just high enough to make things tricky—you can’t read me. You haven’t decided which stats to raise, right? How about boosting intelligence?”
[“Can’t you just do it yourself based on how you’re acting?”]
“That’s me showing goodwill. Would you believe anything I say? I need to read your mind, but with low intelligence, we can’t understand each other’s intentions.”
[“So that’s why people call dimwits clueless.”]
This thing that’s paralyzing me is surprisingly reasonable.
“Exactly. Those who quickly read and respond to others’ signals—they’re the truly smart ones.”
[“So you’re saying I should raise my intelligence?”]
“I can read your thoughts, but you can’t read mine. Just relax your resistance for a moment. I’ll boost your intelligence.”
[“What do you expect me to do?”]
“I could force it, but it’s a hassle. I’m just going to raise your stats, I promise.”
I don’t know how to trust it, but seeing how it can easily manipulate the status window in front of me, it’s clear.
‘You’ve learned some professional hacking, haven’t you?’
There was no other choice.
It raised the 21 points I’d accumulated in my status window, which I couldn’t control.
My intelligence, which was around 44 including level-up boosts, was raised to 51.
“There, that’s it. Watch. You’ll probably feel it.”
“Uh, what!?”
As my intelligence crossed 50, my voice finally came out as I wanted.
And then, the level above RiceCookerMan’s head, which I could only see by shining my smartphone, became visible.
At the same time, a sub-window appeared next to it, showing RiceCookerMan’s current status, stats, and a description.
“This is…”
“See? Raising intelligence increases the amount of information you can read. You should’ve done that first.”
It seems an intelligence stat of 50 grants the ability to read information from other worlds.
“Ugh, arghhh!”
At the same time, the level, description, and life story of the being possessing me flooded in.
It was labeled as an LV87 specter.
It was called “Swordmaster.”
This LV87 specter, once human, led a group fleeing into a desert region even demons hesitated to invade.
But the group was gradually killed off by high-level demons hunting them in the desert.
The Swordmaster, alone, raised their level to 870, fending them off, carrying their only surviving daughter on their back.
They crossed the desert.
Beyond the desert was a barren highland wasteland.
At the last oasis, they gave all the water from their canteen to their daughter.
‘Ah.’
But in the end, their daughter grew cold on their back.
The LV87 specter wailed, their body dulled by grief, crying endlessly in madness.
‘Sob, sob, sob…‘
No tears came.
They didn’t even have the moisture to cry.
No matter how much they beat their chest or screamed, their grief couldn’t be expressed physically.
It was as if they wanted to tear their eyes out.
“…Phew.”
I fell silent.
This specter met its end with such thirst and unresolved emotions, unable to even shed tears.
“So, you wanted to drink water. Is that it?”
“Not just water—I’d love a proper meal. Back then, I wasn’t sure if it was hunger or dehydration.”
“Not about saving your daughter?”
“…An impossible grudge can’t be held.”
“So, you really just came here to drink water? You’ll leave once that’s resolved?”
The specter’s memories are faintly coming back to me.
The LV87 specter came here because of the LV39 specter.
‘Look at this guy. Said he’d be erased, but he’s over there?’
Introduced by the LV39 specter, the LV87 specter, dressed… uh, quite provocatively, knelt before a pure and beautiful long-haired woman and accepted the mission.
“The Queen of Nightmares is relatively kind, but I can’t follow them. I’d rather surrender here.”
“You can surrender that easily?”
“She can’t come here herself, so she’ll send her minions. If it comes to it, I’ll just say you defeated me. No problem.”
“If you’re going to lose, why not just lose without conditions?”
“It’s a deal. If you resolve my grudge, my disappearance will boost your level. Right?”
So, if I make it disappear, I’ll level up without killing it?
I happen to have sikhye.
If I drink it, it might help the LV87 specter.
“Eating is a bit tricky, but would just drinking water do?”
“A sweet drink would be nice. Honey water?”
“Honey water?”
“There’s a story in your head about a fake emperor in a famine demanding honey water before dying. It’s similar to my situation.”
Oh, yeah.
Of course, I don’t have honey at home.
I could probably buy some at the convenience store, but I can’t go out in this state.
It seems polite, but who knows?
If this thing takes me outside and makes me shout, “Wooheehee, sex!” I’d want to die.
I get Room 202 a bit now.
“Sorry, no honey, and I can’t go out like this, being possessed and all. Want to try this instead?”
“White water. I know it’s the drink you made yesterday. Let’s see.”
“It’s called sikhye. So, what do I do? Just drink it?”
“If you drink it, I’ll feel the sensation too.”
“Really?”
Since it’s stepped back enough for me to control my body, I poured the sikhye into a bowl.
I gulped it down like makgeolli.
The sweet taste hit me, and in that moment, my mind briefly disconnected.
I felt the pleasure of the taste on my tongue, but it was more like the specter possessing me was experiencing it.
“Oh, it’s sweet. Not just because I haven’t had a drink in so long—it’s genuinely sweet and savory. It’s a drink that wakes up your mind.”
“That good, huh?”
“Yeah, it looks like there are white maggots floating in it, but maggots aren’t inedible.”
How dare it insult sacred rice by calling it white maggots?
“It’s rice, not maggots.”
“I know that too, but I just wanted to tease you for treating it like gold. It’s delicious. Really delicious. Ah, hahaha, ahahaha, ahahahaha!”
As control of my body flickered, I saw myself in the mirror, crying from the joy of drinking sikhye.
Man, this is embarrassing.
Crying over how good sikhye tastes at my age?
“Thank you so much. I didn’t expect you to go along so well.”
“I didn’t have much choice.”
“Let me give you some tips. Raise your intelligence to 100 or 150. The higher it goes, the more knowledge you can gain. You’ll get information just by looking, even seeing your opponent’s weaknesses and stats.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
I needed this kind of explanation.
“You’re still lacking, but take my memories and skills. There’s something useful in them. I was pretty strong—for a human.”
I saw their thoughts at level 870.
Now at 87, they lost their trained body, left with only their grudge.
“Is that possible?”
“And I hope you get stronger. Stronger than now.”
“You read my memories. You know getting stronger is pointless, right?”
What’s the point of breaking walls?
“Strength is useless in peace. Of course, in a giant world like yours, we’d seem like dwarves, so it might sound laughable. But there’s magic out there. You’ve faced a red mage, so you know.”
“It was pretty threatening.”
“I hope you get stronger and acquire magic, giant. I pray your world has the peace to raise children.”
“Thanks. In your next life, I hope you’re born here and can drink all the sikhye you want.”
“That’d be nice. Well then.”
A small, flickering flame emerged from my body.
The flame swelled and then rose into the sky like a mirage, vanishing without a trace.
“So… in your next life, drink sikhye to your heart’s content.”
<Level 87 Ascended the Ghost>
<Level increased>
I reached level 88.
***
“Hey, oppa.”
“Uh, yeah, what’s up, honey?”
“Little one suddenly wants sikhye.”
“Huh? Uh, okay.”
Even though it’s too early for my wife to have morning sickness, I’m already a dad-to-be (Jin).
As long as my paycheck allows, I’ll get whatever she craves.
Still groggy from sleep, a man puts on his jacket as a dad.
“Honey!”
“Yeah, what does little one want now?”
“Uh, it’s… like sikhye made by a guy in his 20s, his first time using a rice cooker, loaded with sugar.”
“A guy in his 20s… what?”
It’s like sikhye made clumsily by a guy in his 20s, packed with sugar.
What does that even mean?
Buying sikhye is fine.
But this is basically asking me to make sikhye.
At this hour.
The man, no longer in his 20s but closer to that than his 40s, assumed it referred to him.
“Just eat Beolak Sikhye,” he said, swallowing harsher words to refuse.
“So it has to be made by a 20-something, right? Should we ask your brother-in-law to make it… or not? I’ll ask him in the morning.”
“Yeah, but morning? Come on, oppa, hold on. I’ll call him.”
“At this hour!?”
“Yeah, I went to Sapporo and bought four boxes of Royce chocolate, and Bom ate them all, then lied about it! That pig. I need to order sikhye at least.”
“Honey! It’s 2 a.m.! Come on…”
“Hey, it’s me. Make some sikhye and bring it over now. What? Calling me crazy out of nowhere? You wanna die? Calling your pregnant sister crazy? You’re a total lunatic! I’m telling Mom!”
As a husband, should I let my wife vent her stress?
Calling her unemployed brother in the middle of the night to yell at him feels a bit much.
And isn’t such unrefined behavior bad for prenatal care when the baby’s stem cells aren’t even fully dividing yet?
But their sibling bickering is still kind of funny.
“Ha!”
After hanging up with her brother, my wife’s mood is intense.
“Oppa, are you laughing right now?”
“Uh, what?”
“Is it funny? Your wife wants sikhye, and you think it’s funny?”
“It’s not that…”
“Is it funny!?”
Somewhere in the world, some poor men are getting exhausted over sikhye.
***
Memorial.
A type of lingering thought that remembers a world.
The legacy of a destroyed civilization remains.
This legacy could be records, skills, or items.
The ascended Swordmaster specter dropped an item.
“What’s this? Oh!?”
As I picked up the Memorial, it melted, turning into a brilliant light and seeping into my forehead.