-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 4
Chapter Title: A Tour of Modern Civilization -1
-----------------------------------------------------------------
As you opened your eyes, an utterly unfamiliar sight seized your attention.
Skyscrapers piercing the heavens, vibrant LEDs blotting out the stars on a moonlit night.
Countless people milling about in strange attire. Four-wheeled carriages gliding by without a sound from their horses.
It all felt chaotic and noisy.
Yet even in the disorder, there was order.
The black road—immaculately paved with some unknown material—was reserved solely for those four-wheeled carriages.
The only exception was the white lines painted on it. People crossed over those.
When the oddly shaped streetlamps glowed red, everyone stopped.
When they turned blue, they walked. It was a straightforward signal: move or stay put.
Assuming all your guesses were correct...
You had to move right now. Because you were standing smack in the middle of one of those intersecting black roads.
And that eerie red light was shining.
Honk—! Hooonk—!
A blaring noise erupted. Music might be a universal language, but to you, this cacophony sounded like a threat—or a warning. Glancing at the faces of the people inside the carriages, it seemed more like the latter.
So where were you supposed to go?
You'd been unceremoniously dropped into this alien world.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
"You a foreigner? Wait, no, come on... Even foreigners know red light, blue light. Red light. Green light. Right? Why're you just standing there in the middle of the road like a statue... Tae-sik, what was your TOEIC score again?"
"Damn it, my English sucks!"
"Then who here speaks it? You passed TOEIC, man! Ugh, whatever. You talk to him."
"Shit... Fine. Hey, are you okay? Um, police office here. And you criminal. Because you, you no move at honk-honk... "
"Dude, what the hell is 'twi-twi-bang-bang'?"
"Then you do it, captain!"
The chubby guy and the skinny one were snapping at each other.
Or rather, it didn't quite look like a fight. No malice in their eyes—just the rough banter of close buddies.
They were shoving the sudden hassle onto each other.
And you were that "hassle."
Your sharp wits deduced they were some kind of... "guards."
The skinny one—who seemed lower-ranked than the chubby guy—held out a piece of paper and a pen to you.
"What's your name? What's your name?"
Your name. The foundation of all human interaction.
This was the monumental first exchange between you and this world.
The paper seemed to expand, filling your vision.
And there—a black box. Probably where the name went.
You picked up the pen and wrote it down.
'Yuna Yurensuto Violetiris'.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
"Tower Lord, was that your name?"
When a familiar voice popped up by her ear, Illusion Tower Lord Yuna wasn't startled.
Put nicely, she'd grown accustomed to the tower's resident troublemaker. Put harshly, she'd been worn down.
The guy had pulled countless pranks under the guise of "people-watching" or whatever.
Seeing his curiosity about her lengthy name, she gave him the details.
"Yeah. I was the illegitimate child of the Yurensuto count family. Technically disowned, but still on the family register. My father hates Yuna Yurensuto, but he wants to keep the Illusion Tower Lord's daughter around."
"And Violetiris?"
"The surname the imperial family bestowed when I was recognized as Tower Lord. It takes precedence over the family name, so it's 'Miss Violetiris,' not 'Miss Yurensuto.'"
"It's long."
"You've got the handy title 'Tower Lord' to fall back on."
"We've known each other eight years, and this is the first I've heard of it. Wanted to try using it."
"...Do whatever."
Yuna turned her head, mumbling a half-hearted reply.
She wasn't great at conversations anyway, and this kind was especially tricky. She couldn't very well say, "Go ahead and call me by name all you want"—that would be mortifying.
The young Tower Lord's eyes reflected an entire world.
A bizarre genius had crafted this mystical realm.
This hyper-realistic world had to be illusion magic. Even as Yuna experienced it firsthand, she could hardly believe it.
The sounds, the smells, the feel of the chair beneath her, the otherworldly guards chattering up ahead.
If she hadn't seen the guy's track record with illusion magic, she'd have mistaken it for some mad wizard inventing dimensional travel. How could this be mere illusion?
There was no other way to describe it: terrifying talent.
Focus in, and even the language changed. The guards' chatter was utterly foreign—no dialect like it on the continent. Yet the meaning hammered straight into her mind.
Was it the illusion technique "Blur," making the bizarre feel normal?
Or perhaps a sly "Cognitive Dullness," keeping suspicion at bay...
Could she break free?
Illusion magic's crux was simple: escape the spell or not.
If even a trivial illusion was hard to shake, it was good magic. No matter how lethal or flashy, if it was easy to dispel, it was bad.
This world was already history-book worthy illusion magic. Now it was just whether it'd get a footnote: "—but it had these flaws."
Tower Lord Yuna stirred her mana.
A fog settled in. She could barely recall how. And this world seemed to have no magic anyway. Even her meticulously built mana heart was gone.
Illusion effect, no doubt. A "hypnosis" implanting: [This world has no magic, and neither do you.]
Hypnosis could make absence feel real, but not erase it for good.
It wasn't there, but her mana heart existed. It didn't surface, but she was a mage. Even if her proof was mere belief, that was enough.
Because she trusted her years of effort weren't wasted.
A soap bubble formed at her fingertip.
Inside, dragons flitted about, a hologram named Heart seduced a man, a butler legion ravaged the Illusion Tower mercilessly—images flashed by.
Like paints blending on a palette, they swirled leisurely, mixing. The shimmering transparent bubble slowly filled with dark liquid.
Its full name, "Violetiris's Condensed Memory Magic Crystal Explosion," sounded poetic but didn't capture the essence.
When she'd shown it to the tower's troublemaker, he'd dubbed it "Info Bomb."
Crack.
A fissure spiderwebbed the bubble's surface. Once internal pressure hit critical, it'd burst.
And the jumbled info payload would shred this magnificent illusion world.
If the world held, Yuna would humbly yield her Tower Lord seat.
"Ererelerelerelel."
"Eeeeek—aaah!!"
The tower's troublemaker mercilessly slobbered Yuna's ear.
Her focus shattered. The bubble vanished like it'd been erased.
Yuna rolled on the ground, shielding the assaulted spot with her hand.
Then screamed again at the slick saliva on her fingers.
"Wh-wh-what the hell are you doing—!!"
"Why ruin the nice thing you made? That would've wrecked everything."
"T-tell me first!!"
"Talking's embarrassing."
"You! That was the embarrassing thing!!"
"Test the magic later. What I wanted to show you today wasn't the spell itself, but this world... my hometown."
"Hometown?"
"Didn't I say I came from another world?"
"No!!"
"Eh, not important anyway... I'll treat you to the full course, so let's go. Earth's advanced in all sorts of ways, but the food culture? Out of this world."
"..."
Illusion Tower Lord Yuna's high-powered brain concluded there was ample reason to expect great things from otherworldly cuisine. It ordered her salivary glands into action. She swallowed hard.
"L-let's go."
"Yessir."
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
We'd barely been open ten minutes, and disaster nearly struck.
If that tiny bubble had popped, my illusion magic would've been toast.
Felt like watching a full-swing baseball bat aimed at my figure display case!
The reagents and prep for this demo cost a fortune...
The Illusion Tower Lord—Yuna Violetiris or whatever—got aggressively curious sometimes. She'd poke a demo illusion mid-cast, wondering, "What if I hit it?"
Poor spells shattered like that three times a week.
I'd sweated bullets brainstorming countermeasures.
Magical wards were out; no genius—even one scouted by every tower—beats a Tower Lord born from genius.
When the weak topple the strong, you hit 'em dirty and unexpected.
My neurons' optimal solution: ererelerelerelel.
Figured it'd work on a Tower Lord with zero immunity to guys.
Threat neutralized. Time to enjoy.
Kimchi, pork belly, knife-cut noodles, and more.
Time to repay the Tower Lord's research funding support with a full intro to Korean cuisine...