Chapter 125 Bug, Not Burg
When I opened my eyes again, everything around me was pitch-black.
Instinctively, I tried to roll over, only to find my limbs pinned tight by something. I could barely curl up. There was a heavy pressure on my chest, and even breathing felt labored.
I reached out to feel around—flat above me, flat to the left, flat to the right.
A chill crept up my spine. My fingers paused, then I knocked on it.
Thud—thud—
The sound was dull, wooden, with a faint scent of old lacquer.
…Wood? Sealed on all sides? Hard to breathe?
A jolt shot through me.
“Holy shit—don’t tell me I’m in a coffin?!”
The moment the thought crossed my mind, a familiar beep sounded in my ear—the long-lost mechanical voice that nearly moved me to tears.
[System Notification: Stop knocking. It’s not that complicated.]
I almost lost it.
“Where the hell have you been?! System! Do you have any idea how long you’ve been gone?!”
[System, calmly: Yes. About one chapter’s worth of time.]
“…Fine.”
At least it still remembered it was a system.
I forced down the surge of anger in my chest and gritted my teeth. “Then explain to me what you mean by ‘not that complicated.’ I’m in a damn coffin! I’m about to turn into a mummy here, you know that?!”
[System: Relax. Listen. I actually entered the city with you. But the moment you encountered that young man surnamed An, I lost contact with you.]
I froze for a second. “That An guy… you mean Senior An? He’s that strong? He can even block you?”
[System: Yes. His existence is… somewhat anomalous.]
“Anomalous my ass! Get me out first, then explain, alright?!”
[System: Fine. Put your hands against the lid above you and push downward slightly. That will slide it open.]
“…You could’ve said that earlier!”
I took a deep breath and did as instructed. Sure enough, with a creak, the coffin lid shifted open, and a gust of cold air rushed in.
I sat up and looked around. The room was dim, empty, the walls dark and bare.
The only furnishing—
Was the coffin I had just crawled out of.
“….”
Who the hell keeps something like that in their house?
[System, gently: Don’t worry. It’s just a generated container.]
“I’m not worried,” I said, forcing a dry laugh. “I’ve lost my soul a few times already. What’s one more creepy setup?”
I stepped out of the coffin and surveyed the room carefully.
The floor was paved with stone slabs. In one corner hung an oil lamp—dry, long since burned out.
I pushed the door open. The corridor outside was silent.
It faintly felt familiar—like a side room in Senior An’s residence. Back when we visited, I don’t think we ever came this deep inside.
“System, you’re finally back. Care to explain now?”
[System: Certainly.]
The system cleared its throat—yes, it actually cleared its throat—and began its analysis in a formal tone:
[Strictly speaking, this “Senior An”… functions as a kind of bug within the story.]
“…A bug?”
[Yes. I understand that may be difficult for you to grasp. Feel free to ask questions.]
“….”
The system continued, unhurried:
[This bug existed outside the narrative to begin with. Its power comes from loopholes in the story itself. That’s why he appears omnipotent—because he’s exploiting inconsistencies in the plot.]
“This ‘burg’ is that strong and you’re telling me that like it’s reassuring?”
[It’s a bug, not burg. Moreover, by coincidence, he merged his power with the silver box you brought out of the tomb.]
“Wait. Isn’t that the thing you told me not to mess with?”
[Correct. The silver box originally functioned as a “buff.”]
“A what? What kind of talisman is that supposed to be?”
The system paused briefly, then elaborated:
[In simple terms, a “buff” is a container that enhances attributes, alters rules, or adds special effects. Think of it as a temporary enhancement—but in your world, it can rewrite local rules. The silver box is a high-capacity, highly compatible vessel capable of amplifying external energy. When Senior An injected his anomalous logic into it, the rules became distorted, and the effects began to overflow. That’s why you witnessed those abnormalities.]
“…I’m going to be honest, I didn’t understand a word of that.”
[That’s your problem.]
I pressed a hand to my forehead. “…Go on.”
[Later, the cloth your elder brother sent through Juan—I’ve analyzed it. It’s specifically designed to eliminate bugs.]
“Impressive. So my brother’s even more ridiculous than that walking glitch?”
[When Lian used the cloth to wipe the silver box, it triggered a backlash. The box pulled you, Lian, and Senior An into another space.]
I narrowed my eyes. “So where am I now?”
[Theoretically, you are still inside the silver box.]
“…Theoretically, my ass.” I crossed my arms and let out a cold laugh. “We really brought this on ourselves. Should’ve just left that thing in the tomb.”
[That would be an accurate assessment.]
I fell silent, then sighed deeply.
“Then where are Lian and Senior An?”
[System: Theoretically, they are here as well.]
“Stop with the ‘theoretically.’” I nudged the coffin with my foot. “I’m going to find them myself.”
I walked down the corridor and stepped outside. The sky was overcast, but compared to the chaos at the altar earlier, this place felt… unnaturally quiet.
I checked the tavern—empty.
The bookstore—books scattered all over the floor.
Finally, gritting my teeth, I headed toward Spring-Come Inn.
Muttering to myself, “If I run into another monster, I’m just going to swing first this time,” I kicked the door open.
Bang—
What I saw made me freeze on the spot.
At a table sat two identical Senior Ans.
Yes.
Same robes. Same hairstyle. Same faint, knowing smile—the kind that says everyone is guilty.
They were staring at each other.
My brain stalled.
“System, this one’s on you.”
[System: Simple. One is the real entity. The other is a narrative cache.]
“…A narrative cache?”
[After the story destabilized, the bug duplicated itself, creating two versions of “Senior An.” Your task is to determine which one is real.]
I rubbed my temples. “How am I supposed to tell? They both look equally unhinged.”
Sure enough, one of them spoke first, a smile cutting cold as steel scraping iron.
“Didn’t expect you to still be alive.”
The other rose slowly, voice identical—even the curve of his lips perfectly matched.
“Stop pretending. You’re the fake one.”
They both lifted their hands at the same time, as if holding invisible teacups—and drank.
Yes. Invisible. I couldn’t even see the tea.
“….”
“System, I think your novel is falling apart.”
[System: You only just realized?]
…
I was about to ask how exactly I was supposed to distinguish them—and what it would even accomplish—
When both “Senior Ans” lifted their heads at the exact same moment and turned to look at me.
Their gazes were like blades slipping out of the dark.
Cold. Sharp. Lethal.
Killing intent. No doubt about it.
I immediately plastered on a professional smile. “Ah, nothing, nothing—I was just passing by! You two carry on, don’t mind me at all.”
I started backing away, step by careful step, light as if I were sneaking off with temple donation money. After all, I can’t fight—but running? That’s my specialty.
Then—
Before I even made it three steps, a surge of force swept in from behind. Like someone grabbing a chicken, I was yanked forward—
Thump.
I landed squarely in the empty seat between them.
My mind went completely blank.