Mana can create anything, and those who have awakened to its power can materialize whatever they desire at will.
This is what is called Illusion Materialization.
To illustrate its power, even a Demon—who has never once seen Earth in reality—can peer into their contractor’s memories and create a luxury suite costing 3 million won per night, complete with a private open-air bath.
“Isn’t this a little too specific?”
“And what if it wasn’t me who created this bathtub, but you?”
“That’s true, hahaha.”
Changyeom, seated across from me in the bathtub, smiled as usual and lowered her body until her braided hair was just about to submerge.
“So, how does it feel to imagine something like this?”
“You’re saying I imagined this?”
“Going on a drive with your beloved, finishing the day’s itinerary, checking into a hotel, soaking in a private bath with a breathtaking view, and even having a glass of wine—”
“Aren’t you just basing this on my memories and saying it’s what you want?”
“Pfehehe. Who do you think really desires this?”
Changyeom poured a shimmering blue-hued wine into a glass and handed it to me.
Of course, it wasn’t real-world wine but one of the non-alcoholic cocktails available in the game. I took a slow sip and savored the taste.
It was—the taste I knew.
The flavor brought back memories of a drink I had tasted at a cocktail bar in the past.
“How is it?”
“I wonder how it would taste… in reality, on Earth.”
“It probably wouldn’t be too different. Since this world is ultimately crafted based on the thoughts and ideas of the developers, it likely contains the taste information from those who have had similar yet subtly different experiences as you.”
“So this is also an Illusion Materialization created by mana?”
“Exactly. This space, this water, the hardness of this bathtub, and even this—”
Squish.
“The sensation of pressing down with my foot inside the water is also something shaped by mana~”
“But if it’s 99.99% identical to reality, and if I don’t dwell on the 0.01% difference, then it’s essentially indistinguishable from reality.”
As Changyeom gently pressed her foot against my leg, I wondered—
Was this sensation fake, or was it real?
That question had an answer within an in-game character.
“Isn’t it the same as Shuri’s Illusion Materialization? If she reaches SS-rank, that is.”
“Like Regif’s hypnosis and brainwashing?”
“Regif’s ability works on individuals, whereas Shuri’s targets entire spaces when she uses her ability.”
“That’s right.”
Snap!
Changyeom snapped her fingers.
The extravagant hotel suite that seemed worth 3 million won per night instantly changed to another location.
“Hey.”
“It’s just a metaphor, just a metaphor.”
Now, we were in the middle of Gwanghwamun Plaza.
A lone bathtub sat there, with us casually enjoying a half-body bath.
Of course, since this was merely an illusion that Changyeom had conjured, there were no passersby screaming in shock or hurriedly filming us for social media.
She could have set it that way, but she hadn’t gone that far.
“Still, be careful. If Miss Shuri doesn’t intend to break her own pen, someone will eventually ask for something like this.”
“But you know what happens if Shuri’s pen is broken.”
“Well… At worst, she might end up like a failed art student who couldn’t graduate from art school.”
“That’s the biggest problem of all.”
Among the many possible Apocalyptic Endings that Shuri could bring about, one was the ‘Failed Art Student’ apocalypse.
A world war breaks out, humanity slaughters each other, a magitech nuclear war devastates the world, and in the end, Shuri takes her own life in a bunker with a magic gun— a tragic but comedic bad ending.
“Even if it’s meant to be a joke ending, it’s still plausible enough to actually happen.”
“So, are you going to stop her? Stop Shuri from drawing those… you know, those kinds of pictures?”
“Morally speaking, stopping her would be the right thing to do. But censorship isn’t something I can impose so easily.”
Shuri’s alternate apocalypse.
It’s what one might call… ‘The Human Gerrquan Wiperus’.
“A heroine whose broken pen and shattered heart lead her to enforce absolute censorship and ideological suppression… Can’t she just have a more normal ending?”
“Well, if we’re looking for something normal, then the most common apocalypse would probably be a world where she paints an illusory path over a cliff, causing people to walk straight off into the abyss.”
An apocalypse where the world is consumed by illusions.
Where every step forward—one cannot tell if they are stepping on solid ground or into a pit.
Where empty space might, in reality, be lined with hidden blades.
If humanity were to be trapped in such a world of illusions, it wouldn’t take long for them to perish entirely.
“But the real concern is still that, right? Shuri’s specialty.”
“…Yeah. Er*tic illustrations. The moment people start thinking, ‘It’s just a drawing, but I kind of want to see more,’ and that leads to some of them experiencing extreme s*xual humiliation and spiraling out of control… that’s an apocalypse in the making.”
It wouldn’t be Shuri herself who becomes the apocalypse, but rather, an apocalypse triggered by her.
For example, what if a hyper-realistic erotic illustration of someone were to spread unchecked?
In a world where realism already plays a role, and with the Magitech Network serving as a fully developed version of the internet,
if a scandalous, lifelike drawing were to be distributed…
People would believe it to be a photograph.
They wouldn’t realize it was a meticulously crafted illustration.
Because Shuri’s artistic precision is that extraordinary.
“And even if some suspect it’s a drawing, they wouldn’t admit it.”
“If it were just a simple body shot, maybe not. But what if it’s an illustration of someone engaged in something indecent with another person? Their future would be ruined instantly.”
“And what if it’s not just one man, but multiple people—a fabricated illustration designed purely for defamation?”
“…Ugh.”
Changyeom shook her head in dismay.
“That sounds like something Fallen Angels would commission.”
“You mean… like a scene where a Fallen Angel is lounging on a sofa, and behind them, five hulking, muscular, dark-skinned demons are standing? And then—”
“…I’d rather not put it into words.”
“And if Shuri starts to lose hope and falls into despair… what do you think happens next?”
“If you go that far just to make money, and if that drawing were to leak… Unless we reset the entire world, it would be completely and utterly destroyed.”
“Exactly. That’s why we need to create a proper environment for Shuri to draw.”
Changyeom snapped her fingers.
Suddenly, we were in a dorm room at Esdinas Academy.
Seated at a desk, hunched over in concentration, Shuri moved her magic pen, giggling, ‘Buhihit!’ as her magic pad—her tablet—displayed a pixelated flesh-colored illustration.
“A wholesome yuri harem that Angels would love… or a corrupted depravity scenario that Fallen Angels would enjoy…”
“What about something that Demons would like?”
“Something like this?”
Snap.
With a flick of her fingers, Changyeom conjured an illustration.
“What do you think?”
“…So, for Demons, it’s just a harem?”
Atop a grand throne.
Seated naked, like a god of Olympus, was me, while seven Demon Dukes surrounded me, their hands caressing and clinging to my body.
“Supreme strength. The strong may claim all. Even the seven Demon Kings can be made into one’s personal women—so long as it means leading the Demons back to the surface and restoring their former glory.”
“For most men… that would be an irresistible choice.”
“Right?”
Snap.
With another flick of her fingers, Changyeom expanded the scene.
Beyond the seven Demon Dukes, even mortal women from the surface stood, gazing toward the throne.
“Not just the Dukes of the Hell… but even the women of the Middle World.”
“…”
“If you seek the crown, you must bear its weight. And this crown… is the only path to saving the world.”
“Wait—what kind of nonsense is this?”
It was absurd.
“You’re telling me… I have to walk the path of a harem to save the world?”
“Yes.”
“…”
“So, do you hate the idea?”
Changyeom grinned, poking me teasingly.
“And besides—I’d be in that seat, too.”
“…Hah.”
At a time like this, what kind of expression was I supposed to make?
Screw it. Just laugh.
“Fine, then. Let’s give it a shot.”
* * *
Anyway, so.
One way or another, Shuri’s talent would surface, and trying to forcefully redirect her artistic themes would only spell disaster.
A creator isn’t some machine that neatly outputs what is demanded of them.
They create best when they are allowed to freely unleash their passion—
and the more they express themselves, the more masterpieces they produce.
And what if that passion came with enormous financial gains?
Then their life would be set.
“So, Miss Shuri.”
“Y-Yes…?”
“If the people in the Old School Building request you to draw something, just go ahead and do it.”
“…H-Huh? What did you just say?”
“But—make it absolutely clear that you’re only drawing because you have no choice and make sure to get something in return. Money. Or something else.”
“T-That…!”
Shuri looked up at me, her eyes teary.
“Then… Phoenix, you…?”
“I’m fine. I’m… a public commodity of sorts.”
“…!”
“If becoming a model can help relieve the stress of future heroes, then I will gladly offer myself.”
This was my duty to save the world.
“Draw the art they desire.”
It was sacrifice.
“Even if they commission drawings of me in compromising situations. I’ll just pretend I never saw them.”
