Failed Possession Chapter-5

## Chapter-5

—

Supported by Gordon, Yuri arrived home.

It was a shabby communal apartment.

He climbed the creaking, worn stairs and stopped in front of Room 203. After taking a short breath, he unlocked the door.

Click.

“…”

Yuri’s place was about the same size as the one-room apartment Lee Su-hyeok used to live in.

“Heh…”

He had known through the memories that surfaced, but he hadn’t been mentally prepared.

“There’s seriously nothing here.”

No bathroom. No kitchen.

For a moment he just stood there blankly, then let out a hollow laugh.

‘My shoes…’

He almost took them off out of habit, then stopped.

That kind of habit could get a *possessor* killed. The dirty floor almost felt like a blessing. It definitely wasn’t something he wanted to step on barefoot.

It wasn’t that there was no bathroom at all — just not inside the room. He didn’t urgently need one right now, but you never knew when nature would call. To brace himself, Yuri left the room again and limped down to the first floor.

“Hah…”

The first-floor communal toilet.

Of course it was a pit latrine. That couldn’t be helped.

Next to it was a shared kitchen with a fire hearth, and behind the building there was a well.

“Heh…”

Which meant—

Sleep on the second floor.
Shit and piss on the first.
Draw water from the well to wash.
Light the hearth to cook.

Lee Su-hyeok, who had never camped in his life, who couldn’t even poop without a flush toilet, who showered daily with hot water… felt his head spin.

He had never served in the military, but even the army probably wasn’t this bad.

“Fuck.”

He went back upstairs.

It was all he had, so he’d have to adapt somehow.

Trying to think positively, he flopped onto the bed.

The window frame was layered with dust, the glass cloudy. The world beyond it looked gray, as if painted over with grime.

Not Korea.
Not Earth.

Another world.

Exactly like the game’s name—

**Seronis Continent.**

One by one,

he tried to accept it.

Thanks to his education by Lorellia, the Priestess of Order, he had a general understanding of the situation.

This world was the original source material of the game *Seronis*.
Thirty years had passed beyond the game’s setting.
Not the game itself, but another reality.

A world where the players who had ranked first in the Hall of Fame before him had crossed over — other possessors.

“Ugh…”

Yuri groaned and clutched his throbbing head.

He had barely survived death, injured himself on top of that, and now had too much to think about. Even his brain hurt. It felt unfair.

‘Have to be careful of the people around me… careful of other possessors… What am I supposed to do now?’

How the hell was he supposed to live here?

Not that he was bragging, but Lee Su-hyeok wasn’t particularly talented. His specialties were eating, sleeping, shitting, arguing online, and gaming.

Yuri’s specialties were pickpocketing, stabbing, and swearing.

If he were the only possessor, and if this really were just a game world, maybe he could rely on his game knowledge…

But thirty years had passed. And there were others like him.

He couldn’t depend on game knowledge — not just about characters, but item routes and skill acquisition too.

Thirty years.

The first ones who ranked first had basically looted an empty house. And hidden bosses had higher specs than the official final bosses.

If those guys beat those bosses and crossed over, they’d obviously know the game inside out.

Most hidden items and skills were probably already cleaned out.

‘They must’ve come too…’

Thinking about earlier possessors, faces from the game community surfaced.

There had been a small community bound by the shared suffering of playing that trash game.

It was a foreign site. His English sucked, so he just used a translator.

Mostly they complained about how garbage the game was… or chatted about random stuff. But some seriously analyzed the game and shared tips.

Of course, anyone who ever hit #1 vanished from both the community and the game.

Back then, no one thought much about it.

“Finally attained enlightenment!”

Top players disappearing was treated almost like congratulations.

But there were a few he remembered well.

Yuri — no, Lee Su-hyeok — too.

Chuk Shin-do.
CatPanties.
FUCKINGSEXY.
USAUSAMI₍ᐢ.ˬ.ᐢ₎.

Four people he chatted with often.

He didn’t want to meet them immediately — who knew how they’d changed?

But even shallow online friendships grew attachments.

‘Are they still alive…?’

Among the five of them including himself, Lee Su-hyeok had been the last to reach #1.

He had even intentionally died repeatedly unless he could secure a perfect clear.

The other four were just as insane — aiming for long-term domination, not brief #1s.

Yet they all disappeared first.

He never missed them. Never searched.

If someone locked in #1, it meant confidence… or burnout… or real life getting busy.

It’d be ridiculous to cling to people you’d never met.

The ones who hit #1 disappeared. That was normal.

But no one ever came back.

‘So they didn’t disappear… they got possessed.’

“…If I’d known, I’d have come sooner.”

No.

If he’d known, he never would’ve played.

He sighed and sat up.

The corpses from earlier. The feeling of smashing down an axe and warhammer — it clung to his mind.

Lorellia had praised violence.

Fists over law. Blades over pens.

Back on Earth, he couldn’t agree.

But after getting beaten half to death, rolling on the ground, learning to throw punches, cutting ankles, crushing jaws—

Now—

she was right.

‘Strength.’

To survive here, possessor or not, he needed strength.

‘If I’m strong enough not to die… maybe it won’t matter if they find out I’m a possessor.’

He pressed the bandage on his still-bleeding wound and stood before the mirror.

The unfamiliar face stared back.

Messy black curls.

Objectively… better looking than his old face.

“Is this racial advantage…?”

He muttered, touching his sharp nose.

He stripped.

A lean, muscular body. Defined chest and abs. Way better than his old scrawny frame.

“…Civilization difference, maybe.”

No delivery apps here, after all.

He finished inspecting himself and searched the room.

Desk drawer.

Several daggers. A few books.

Thankfully, he could read.

<Basic Mana Primer>
<Anyone Can Become a Mage>
<Three Elements Sword Art>
<Wind Origin Heart Method>

The books had yellowed with age.

These were secondhand books Yuri had bought from the largest bookstore in Aldor.

Flipping through a few pages, he saw notes Yuri had written in the margins.

“…”

He had already suspected it back then but deliberately ignored it.
Even the current Yuri could tell just by skimming.

These books were fake.

The mana primer, the Wind Origin Heart Method, the Three Elements Sword Art — all of them. They were filled with nothing but abstract words, without a single proper explanation.

Maybe all mana primers and martial manuals in this world were like this, and perhaps Lee Su-hyeok, who came from another world, simply couldn’t understand them.

But Yuri’s body didn’t contain even a handful of mana. Even if the books weren’t fake, he had ultimately gained nothing from them.

<Anyone Can Become a Mage>

This book insisted that anyone could become a mage, no matter how late they started or how little talent they had.

The reason you failed to become a mage is not simply because you lacked effort.
It is not because you lacked willpower or talent either.
Like a cicada that stays underground for years before becoming an adult.
Like a seed that one day blooms and grows into a great tree.
You simply have not yet reached the time to blossom.

Someday, your efforts will be rewarded.
So do not be impatient, and dream of a hopeful future…

“What the fuck is this, some self-help book?”

Yuri let out a hollow laugh and threw the otherworldly self-improvement book aside.

So—

Twenty-year-old Yuri, born in an orphanage, living off pickpocketing, joining a shitty organization and surviving as the errand boy—

had wanted to become a mage or a martial artist.

He kept secondhand magic and martial arts books — not even sure whether they were real or fake — in the drawer, tried in his own way, and when he achieved nothing, he read that book to comfort himself.

Memories of Yuri surfaced and tangled together.

The Yuri of now was different from the Yuri of the past, so the emotions from those memories didn’t follow.

But he did feel something now.

A bitter feeling.

Yuri slumped down onto the filthy floor.

As Lorellia had taught him, he sat cross-legged.

Originally, Yuri had possessed neither internal energy nor mana. He had gained nothing from those books.

But the current Yuri was different.

When a possessor crossed into this world, they awakened immense mana affinity and comprehension. With just the right trigger, they could naturally become either a mage or a martial artist.

In Yuri’s case, he already had that “trigger.”

Thanks to his assigned Priestess, Lorellia.

Lorellia called it “qi” and “internal energy.”

In the end, the words were different but the meaning was the same.
If you chose the mage tree in the game, it was labeled mana.
If you chose the martial tree and learned martial arts, it was labeled qi and internal energy.

Just that difference.

“Huuuu…”

What he needed was focus.

Awareness.

What he was doing now wasn’t ordinary breathing.

He wasn’t swallowing air.

He was conscious of the mana dissolved within it — the qi.

That was all.

Just that alone allowed a possessor to understand “qi.”

“Kh—!”

His breath caught abruptly.

It wasn’t blood blocking his throat.

Qi had entered along with his breath.

It had no taste. No smell.

His mind and posture must not waver.

He had heard so much about the danger of qi deviation that his ears could have calluses.

As Lorellia had instructed, he guided the qi he had just swallowed — the first in this body — through the meridians.

Qi taken in through breathing was impure and murky.

But passing through the mind method, the impurities left with the exhale, and the refined qi traveled through the meridians and was guided into the dantian.

Lorellia had said the name of this mind method was **Evil-Quelling Heavenly Principle Technique**.

“…”

He opened his eyes.

Quite some time must have passed; the color of the light outside the window had changed.

Yuri lifted his sweat-soaked body and walked to the window. Opening the grimy gray window, a cool breeze cooled his overheated skin.

It was dawn.

“…Next time, open the window first.”

He glanced at the books he had thrown onto the bed, then turned around.

The large drawer in the corner of the room.

Seeing it made his feelings complicated.

After hesitating for a moment, Yuri approached the drawer.

Miscellaneous items, clothes…

The very bottom compartment.

“Haah…”

There were letters.

Seeing them, Yuri unconsciously bit his lip.

He knew who they were from.

The only person Yuri had steadily exchanged letters with—

his childhood friend from the orphanage.

Elena.

—Elena Heinderga.

Unlike Yuri, who still had no surname, Elena possessed a proper family name.

Born with talent for magic, Elena could handle mana from the age of ten without learning from anyone.

The head of the Aldor orphanage, on a faint hope, wrote letters about Elena to several magic towers. Among them, the Tower Master of the Dercia Magic Tower, famous for lightning-attribute magic, took interest and personally came.

‘Heavenly Thunder Orca Dercia.’

A tower master he had killed dozens of times in the game.

Unlike the Black Dragon Association’s Savage fiend, who died with his limbs and head severed, Heavenly Thunder Orca was still the master of Dercia’s tower.

That very Orca acknowledged Elena’s talent.

And so, Elena entered the Dercia Magic Tower.

Ten years since then.

Though they had never met in person, Yuri and Elena still exchanged letters.

But considering they spanned ten years, there weren’t many.

He organized them by the years and dates written on the envelopes.

In the early days after Elena left for the tower, they exchanged letters quite often.

But, as was typical of childhood friends, the intervals gradually grew longer.

He didn’t know exactly what feelings the original Yuri had toward Elena.

All he had now were memories.

But the Yuri in those memories—

didn’t write to her often.

Nor did he often read her letters.

There was resistance.

Still, this wasn’t the time to be bound by conscience.

He read the first letter.

Same orphanage. Same age. Ten years old.

Elena, who had been personally recognized and taken away by the tower master, wrote in detail about her life in her new home.

What emotions had Yuri — still left behind, still fighting with the other orphans — felt reading this letter?

He kept reading.

Elena seemed to be doing well at the tower.

New friends.
New magic learned.
A life incomparable to the orphanage.
A new room.
A splendid city.
Recognition from those around her.

—The frequency of letters noticeably decreased starting at fourteen.

Elena advanced at an unprecedented speed, leaving the apprentice stage to become a full-fledged mage and even receiving her own research lab, devoting herself to magic.

The contents of the letters changed too.

Unlike before, when personal stories and emotions danced across the page, fourteen-year-old Elena’s letters contained only formal greetings.

Dry emotions.

Around then, Yuri stole for the first time on the streets.

Seventeen.

When Yuri left the orphanage, the letter he received, unusually, contained more than just formalities.

—

 

Hello, Yuri.
It’s been a while since I wrote you a letter like this.
Sorry. I’ve been very busy with research lately.

Before I knew it, you’re seventeen now.
If I remember correctly, you have to leave the orphanage at seventeen. Is that still the case?

Yuri, what are you going to do after you leave? Remember? We used to talk about that a lot when we were kids.

Back then we were too young and didn’t know anything about the world outside the orphanage.

I said I wanted to eat candy every day,
and you said you wanted to become a legendary adventurer.

I don’t know if you still have that dream, but… Yuri, the director worries about you a lot.

I’m worried how you’ll take this…

But I’m doing really well.

Yuri, if you don’t have anywhere to go after leaving the orphanage, you can come find me.

—

Seventeen-year-old Yuri didn’t go to Elena.

After age ten, they never met again.

After leaving the orphanage, Yuri lived pickpocketing in the back alleys.

He vaguely remembered what reply he had sent.

That he was fine.
Didn’t need worry.
Could live on his own.
Worry about yourself instead.

He read the later letters.

Formal greetings.

Dry emotions.

The last letter.

—

Hello Yuri.
After reading your last reply, I thought a lot.

You said it’s okay if I don’t send letters anymore, since I’m busy.

It’s true that I’m busy.

Not just because of research — recently, following the tower master’s advice, I’ve been going outside often.

He said a Dercia mage shouldn’t just be a bookworm.

So lately I registered as an adventurer and took on some light requests.

They were too easy, so when I reported that, the tower master teased me and arranged a Rank 4 request.

Ah, did I mention? I advanced to the 4th Circle in the last evaluation.

Even so, isn’t it too much to give someone who just reached 4th Circle a Rank 4 request? Even if the ranks match, I’m still inexperienced.

And… recently I got a house.

Not just me — our tower gives houses when you reach 4th Circle.

It’s nice having more private space, but unlike the tower, no one cooks for me every day.

I tried cooking myself… honestly, it was terrible. I definitely have no talent for cooking.

Should I hire a maid? That feels excessive. I don’t like having other people in my space.

Anyway, enough about me. How are you? You really doing well? You never write about yourself.

Uncle Gordon and the director don’t talk about you lately either. You’re not doing anything bad… right?

You can’t keep living like that forever.

I’ll wait for your reply.

PS. Sorry, I should’ve said this first. I forgot while writing. I’ll be leaving the tower soon for that Rank 4 request. It might take about half a year.

Don’t worry about me. I’m not going alone — other adventurers are coming too.

I’ll write again after I return.

— Your friend, Elena Heinderga.

—

By the time he finished reading all the letters, it was already morning.

Yuri stared at the piled letters for a long time.

“Tsk.”

Twenty-seven-year-old Lee Su-hyeok and twenty-year-old Yuri were very similar.

So Su-hyeok could easily understand what Yuri must have felt.

Inferiority.

Jealousy.

And self-loathing for feeling such things.

Yuri never replied to that letter.

Maybe Elena’s increasingly formal tone since fourteen had been because of Yuri’s attitude.

Or maybe Elena herself had simply grown distant, worn down by reality.

But one thing was certain.

Seventeen-year-old Elena had genuinely worried about Yuri and told him to come find her.

And even in the last letter at nineteen, she worried about Yuri’s life and future.

Yuri, who had nothing but pride, rejected Elena’s sympathy.

It was understandable.

Her letters subtly carried self-display and faint condescension.

And Yuri really had lived a life worthy of being looked down on.

Maybe that was why he clung to those stupid books.

He patted his stiff lower back and stood up.

<Anyone Can Become a Mage>

The book lay on the bed.

“…Let’s go to the bathroom.”

With a deep sigh, Yuri left the room.

—