Being an illustrator...
The reason I started drawing was simple.
Before my parents divorced, kindergarten always had art time at 1 PM, and I'd draw our family every single session.
The pictures always featured a sturdy dad, a kind mom, and me smiling happily between them.
When I brought those family drawings home from kindergarten, my parents—who weren't on the best terms—would stop arguing and break into happy smiles.
Of course, I had none of Picasso's confidence about surpassing Leonardo da Vinci by age thirteen, nor any real talent. They were just thrilled that I'd drawn them.
Simply bringing smiles to our home, always weighed down by worries and concerns, was enough to make me fall in love with drawing.
Pictures always bring joy to someone.
That was the immutable truth I grasped as a kid.
And it's why I majored in design and became an illustrator.
"Sit on the bed all ladylike for a sec."
Han Cheong-ah shot me a puzzled look but obediently did as I asked. I dragged over a table and chair, settling down across from her.
Our eyes met from a short distance away.
Right now, the character I'd drawn myself was alive and breathing before me.
Those cool-looking blue eyes, a face that was mature yet still held traces of girlhood, long pink hair smooth as silk cascading down to her hips.
Han Cheong-ah.
The 4D beauty character my friend had planned and I'd designed myself.
In this world, no great portraitist like Frans Hals or genius like Leonardo da Vinci could draw her better than me. I was confident of that.
I gripped a ballpoint pen and stared at her face.
This wasn't my atelier—no sketchbook or 4B pencil like I used at the café, no 3.2 million won tablet and stylus for proper work.
But I took her as my model and started on a quick sketch—croquis, capturing her natural pose and form in fast strokes.
Croquis is a sketching technique where you observe and rapidly render the subject's natural posture or key features.
I'd only tried it a few times in my school art club, never dreaming I'd do it again in a situation like this.
Her form began to take shape on the blank white paper.
As time passed, the ballpoint's black lines molded her likeness, growing more defined with each overlapping stroke.
About two minutes later...
I flipped the page with the finished croquis and spoke up.
"Mind trying a different pose this time?"
Han Cheong-ah blinked blankly from her seat before standing.
Then she struck that iconic pose any subculture otaku would recognize on sight—the classic dehe~☆.
"Gotta hold it for two minutes..."
It was a pretty dynamic pose to maintain for two minutes...
And this girl was casually lifting one leg like it was nothing.
"Just hurry up and draw already..."
Her body and voice trembled faintly as I raced the pen across the page.
Twenty minutes passed like that.
I'd finished ten croquis sheets in total, while Han Cheong-ah let out a breath and wiped sweat from her forehead.
"Modeling's harder than it looks."
"Yeah. You did great."
I opened the fridge to offer her some water, but it was packed with unidentified red blood packs.
I slammed it shut and handed her the notebook instead.
"Anyway, you could just tell your friend someone begged you to model, so you had no choice but to run late..."
Han Cheong-ah skimmed the drawings, then touched her lips.
For a second, it looked like she smiled faintly—was that just my imagination?
"Sounds like a solid excuse to me. I'll go with that for my close friend. Can I keep these drawings?"
"Burn 'em if you don't like them."
"No, I'll treasure them."
Seemed like she actually took a liking to my sketches.
"Well, I'll be going then. Things got a bit weird, but thanks anyway for saving me back at the scene."
Getting a thank-you from my attempted kidnapping victim felt downright bizarre.
I smiled and saw Han Cheong-ah off. She slipped out of the dim, cramped semi-basement.
A few worries lingered, but I'd dodged the fate of clashing with the protagonist and dying at Yubyeol-ha's hands.
Now, then...
Clock: 9:55 PM
My biggest problem still loomed.
📱 Text Message"Time is 22:00. Location: that pier we've always used. Bring the Psyker safely, as promised."— Sender: "Bastard"
A member of the 21st Century Secret Society, same as Baek Do-hyun.
Judging by the commanding tone, probably a high-ranking exec.
As a co-developer of Red Ark, I knew all the key players inside out.
After all, I'd drawn them all myself.
Standing CGs meant decent scenario weight.
And every 21st Century Secret Society exec had one.
The "Bastard" was likely someone I recognized.
Worst case? If it was the mage Zero One or the dragon Shin.
They'd punish failure mercilessly, underling or not.
If either was "Bastard," my only shot was fleeing Academy City.
But Zero One was the boss, and Shin wouldn't bother sending small fry like Baek Do-hyun to snag humans.
Scratch those two...
Hmm.
No clue.
The game had tons of Secret Society goons... Guess I'd find out when I met them.
I stood and left the semi-basement.
Worst came to worst, as long as it wasn't those two, I'd manage.
Executions had stays of execution, after all. Plenty of ways to buy time if I thought it through.
I trudged into the night-shrouded streets.
Spring had arrived, but winter's chill lingered outdoors.
The crisp night air had me pulling up my hood and shoving my hands in my pockets.
Despite the late hour when decent folks should be in bed, uniformed students roamed the streets, enjoying the night life.
Black, white, East Asian—Arc's sight of diverse races in school uniforms was unique, unseen at any global tourist spot.
I recalled my friend's rundown of Red Ark's worldbuilding.
In 1980, spearheaded by South Korea's Han River Miracle and explosive growth, Rifts began appearing worldwide.
Rifts were passages linking dimensions.
Stepping stones letting "otherworldly" beings flood into Earth.
They spewed monsters dubbed Dimensional Beasts onto human turf like cockroaches, turning the world into hell.
Dimensional Beasts shrugged off humanity's deadliest weapons with their impenetrable Barrier Fields.
Mankind got steamrolled, nearly losing Earth after 300,000 years of rule.
But a miracle—the Psychic Virus—halted our doom.
A mystery virus spilling from Rifts alongside the Beasts.
It mutated human bodies, granting Barrier Fields and Psyker powers like the Dimensional Beasts.
Humanity dubbed the infected Psykers and, led by them, reclaimed Earth from the invaders.
Yet Rifts still dotted the globe, spewing more Beasts. Psyker crimes with their powers became a headache too.
Enter renowned biologist Dr. Hong Seung-hoon, who'd unraveled the link between Dimensional Beasts and Psykers. He founded Arc.
Academy City Arc built infrastructure to safely control and train Psyker abilities.
International law now mandated all Psykers attend Arc for 5-6 years of essential training post-awakening at age 16.
Arc didn't stop there—it added standard middle and high school curricula. Thus, the world's sole academy city was born.
Hence Arc's multicultural, multinational vibe.
Friend tossed in some national pride too: Korea suffered minimal Beast damage worldwide, recycling their byproducts into a superpower rivaling America.
Arc's founder, Dr. Hong Seung-hoon, was Korean through and through, so the city's lingua franca was Korean.
Mulling the academy city's lore anew as I walked...
I'd reached the meeting spot.
"Five minutes late, Dracula."
A sharp voice jabbed right on arrival.
That cringey "Dracula" moniker rang out, but I was alone on the pier thick with sea brine.
Had to be addressing the vampire Baek Do-hyun.
I turned toward the voice.