The Moon Feast was an old Thalesan tradition—once a somber memorial, now a spectacle for nobles to flaunt their wealth under the guise of ancestral reverence.
Jungho stood at the balcony of the East Wing, watching the preparations unfold below.
Silk banners stretched from pillar to pillar. Torches lined the courtyards. The scent of roasted pheasant, honey-glazed boar, and crushed citrus drifted up on the wind.
He sipped watered wine. Bitter.
[System Notice: Grand Event Detected – Performance Opportunity Identified]
[Mandatory Participation: Yes]
[Assigned Role: "Moon's Mad Herald"]
He scoffed aloud.
Of course.
A fool in the moonlight.
Down below, Princess Arin crossed the gardens, flanked by two guards and trailed by her tutor. She looked radiant, every motion deliberate—yet the twitch of her fingers betrayed tension.
Jungho knew she was playing her own game.
And she knew he was, too.
Their eyes met across the distance. A flicker of silent understanding passed. No smiles. Not today.
[Subtask Update: Ally Observation – Arin Status: Masked Hostility / Unconfirmed Loyalty]
A sound behind him.
He turned—just a steward.
"The Queen requests your rehearsal."
Of course she does.
The Moon Room was already filled with performers: acrobats, flame dancers, even a bard troupe from the coastal isles. Jungho walked past them, nodding politely.
No one returned the gesture.
He was the Fool.
They feared the court, but they hated the Fool.
He stepped into the rehearsal circle.
"What's your act this time?" the flame dancer asked, not kindly.
Jungho smiled thinly. "Dying. Spectacularly."
The performers chuckled.
Except one.
A tall man in an oversized cloak, face partially hidden by theatrical makeup.
Their eyes locked.
Jungho felt something familiar—too familiar.
The man bowed slowly. "Break a leg, Ghost Blade."
Jungho didn't blink.
That was his title from Earth.
[System Alert: Unknown Individual Exhibiting Dimensional Echoes]
The man turned and walked away before Jungho could follow.
Later that night, the feast began.
The courtyard had transformed into a sea of silver and violet. Nobles toasted the Queen under the full moon, unaware that blood had been spilled beneath their feet hours before.
Jungho took the stage just as the bells tolled midnight.
He stepped forward in full motley attire, juggling not knives but reflective glass spheres that shimmered under moonlight.
The nobles clapped politely.
He began his monologue—crafted carefully to appear mindless, yet rich with veiled threats:
"The moon watches all. Even the whispers you bury in your goblets.
The moon drinks deeper than you do."
A few nobles stiffened. He saw it.
The Queen smiled.
Princess Arin did not.
Then it happened.
Three shadows moved at once—too quickly.
From the rooftops, the tower wall, the hedge line.
Crossbows.
Jungho dove forward, glass orbs shattering into a glittering distraction.
[System Restriction Breached – Emergency Combat Mode Enabled]
[Shadow Step: Available – Time Limit 30s]
He vanished.
Appeared behind the first assassin.
Broke his neck.
Vanished again—second attacker.
Knife to the spine.
The third panicked and fired wild—
Too late.
Jungho appeared behind him just as the bolt flew.
He twisted the man's head, slowly.
Silence.
Gasps from the crowd.
None of them saw how it happened.
Except one: the Queen.
The courtyard had not yet breathed.
Jungho remained frozen in his final pose, the glass shards of his act still glittering like stardust at his feet. Three bodies lay motionless at the edges of the feast. Nobles gawked, gasped, whispered. But no one moved. No one dared.
Then, at last, a single sound broke the silence.
The Queen raised her goblet.
"To the Fool," she said, voice light as wine. "Who dances even when arrows fall."
Applause followed, stilted and confused—a ripple of compliance more than joy. Jungho bowed, slow and low, his heartbeat finally catching up to him. He could feel his hands tremble behind the curtain of his sleeves.
From the royal table, Princess Arin's gaze was unwavering. It wasn't fear.
It was warning.
Jungho was escorted back to his quarters immediately. No questions, no celebrations. Just two silent guards and the quiet dread of knowing too much had been seen.
His chamber door shut with a soft thud. Alone at last, Jungho exhaled.
Then it hit.
[System Error: Command Tree Breach Detected]
[System Stability: 67%]
[Restoring Baseline Functions…]
His HUD flickered wildly across his vision, like a broken screen. Text bled into itself. Icons glitched, then vanished. A shrill, silent pressure rang behind his eyes.
He sat down, gripping the edge of the bed. His body felt fine. His mana flow normal. But the system—the cage that had bound him for weeks—was cracking.
For the first time since his arrival, he had killed. Cleanly. Silently. And he had felt it.
No resistance. No lag. No restrictions.
It had been like slipping on an old coat.
[Access Granted: Subprocess Debug Log – FOOL_CLASS_BETA_13]
A blinking line of text appeared on a grey window he'd never seen before.
"Error propagated by: Ghost-ID//Δ#NoMask"
His breath caught.
Ghost-ID.
Only one person had ever used that tag. Himself. Back on Earth. As an encrypted alias when interfacing with Hunter tech networks.
But he had never programmed anything like this.
Someone else was in the system.
Or worse—someone had dragged his profile through dimensions.
The glitch window blinked once, then closed itself.
[Unauthorized Action Log: 3x Lethality – Witnessed]
[Emergency Circumstance: Validated]
[Penalty Initiated: Audit Protocol in 30 Days]
Jungho stood up, cold sweat clinging to his back.
Audit Protocol? That didn't sound like a slap on the wrist.
But something else caught his attention.
[Class Progression: 91%]
[New Passive Acquired: Curtain Call]
"Once per moon cycle, lethal action performed in public may be masked as performance. Witness count must exceed ten."
He barked a soft laugh.
"Now you're just making things up."
Back in the throne room, the Queen sat in silence, her goblet untouched.
"Summon the mage seers," she murmured to her steward. "Quietly."
The steward bowed. "About the... performer, Your Majesty?"
She did not look at him.
"About the magic. The kind not born of this world."
Jungho stood at the window, watching the silver light of the moon spill over the rooftops.
A quiet message blinked once more.
"Laugh louder, Ghostblade. The stage isn't done with you yet."
He smiled, prepared for what might happen in the future.