NPC Fell onto My Bed C49

Chapter 49

<Monster PC Cafe: Newly OPENED / Equipped With Top-Tier Specs>

In front of the Monster PC café located on the fifth floor of a high-rise building.

Noah peered through the large glass entrance, staring wide-eyed at the dense forest of computers inside. Even at a glance, there were easily over three hundred machines lined in rows, each occupied by someone.

Currently, Noah wore a cap pulled low over his brow, identical in style to Gu Taeheon’s but in a different color. The likelihood was low, but since Last Chronicle ranked in the top five most-played games in PC cafés, there was a chance someone might recognize his face.

Click.

Taeheon pressed the door button, and the automatic doors slid open with a soft hiss. Noah followed immediately behind him, poking his head just enough to survey the inside.

“Hold on a sec, Noah. We need to buy time first.”

It would have been ideal if they still had a computer at home, but the last one had been destroyed beyond recognition and tossed away. And replacing it would take time. So Taeheon had come straight to a PC café with Noah.

The problem? Taeheon was a well-known judo athlete… and Noah looked exactly like the in-game NPC.

At the kiosk, Taeheon purchased session hours as a guest, glancing around to ensure no one was paying too much attention.

“You’re… buying time?”

Noah’s eyes went round. How could humans buy and sell time freely when time was bestowed by the heavens?

Taeheon waved the small white receipt. “Yeah. We can only use the computer for the hours we purchase. Look — you enter this number there.”

The paper held a four-digit code in bold. The idea that inputting numbers granted access left Noah marveling at this strange, modern world.

They picked a remote corner far from the smoking room and sat down. Having already sat in gaming chairs at Jeonghyeok’s house and Taeheon’s home, Noah tilted his head at the worn, sunken-in seat beneath him — clearly used by countless people before him.

“What ID did you use last time?”

“Ah — Jeonghyeok-nim lent me his.”

“Then I’ll message him for the login info.”

While Taeheon pulled out his phone to text Jeonghyeok, Noah — looking like the model student he always was — diligently typed the four-digit code into the screen. The display transformed, icons blooming brightly across the desktop. His eyes sparkled.

“He’s probably still at work, so it might take a while to reply. Wanna eat something while we wait?”

“W-what? Food?”

“Yeah. It’s not exactly healthy food though.”

Taeheon reached over and clicked the Food Order button on Noah’s screen.

He wasn’t here by choice most of the time — but being friends with Jeonghyeok meant occasional PC-café visits, so he at least knew how to buy time and order food. After that, he usually just browsed the internet, having no games he cared to play.

The monitor filled with images of food divided by category. Noah swallowed audibly as he admired each picture.

“Just don’t order too many weird things. I’ll take you somewhere better to eat later.”

“O-of course! I’m no fool, I won’t waste precious food!”

Because Taeheon had been a lifelong athlete with strict dietary habits, he always paid close attention to Noah’s meals too. When introducing him to snacks or soda for the first time, he always noted how cheap and unhealthy they were — and rarely bought them.

As Noah scrolled, he spotted something familiar — a green bag of potato chips. The very ones Airon had been eating. Noah had wanted more that day but couldn’t keep up with Airon’s speed, managing only about ten chips.

“Do I press here to add it?”

“Yeah. Foga Chips? You like those? Wait, you’ve tried them?”

“Yes! Airon and Jeonghyeok-nim shared some with me once. They are made from potatoes. Salty and sweet — absolutely delicious!”

Noah beamed just thinking about it. Chips made from vegetables, not meat — perfect in his eyes.

“Okay, then get that. I’ll get this.”

“What is this? Jja… gye-chee?”

A dark broth with noodles, eggs, and yellow toppings appeared on Taeheon’s screen — surprisingly indulgent for him to choose. Noah blinked.

“I just felt like eating something unhealthy for once.”

“Is… is it very bad for the body?”

“Not that bad. But once I restart training again, I won’t get to eat this stuff anymore.”

Once he allowed himself to break his discipline, Taeheon didn’t stop — adding hotdogs, cheese tteokbokki, fries, and two colas. Noah tried to follow the avalanche of orders with wide eyes.

“You said we shouldn’t order too much…”

“……”

Realizing he’d already hit over fifty-thousand won worth of food, Taeheon cleared his throat and sat upright. Of course, Noah had also quietly added one or two things he wanted.

“If we can’t finish, I’ll just eat the rest.”

He said it shamelessly and checked his phone again. Luckily, since it was lunchtime, Jeonghyeok responded quickly with his ID and password. Taeheon logged into Last Chronicle on Noah’s PC.

He also logged in on his own account — bringing up the familiar sight of “LimpLeg1219” on the screen.

“…Taeheon-nim.”

“Yeah?”

“This is the Tyrel Forest where I lived.”

But Noah hadn’t clicked past the character-select screen — because doing so would remove the view of Tyrel Forest. He pointed at a corner of the screen.

“Here — do you see this path? In the summer, delicious peaches grow here. Many are spoiled by bugs, but if you are lucky, you can find at least one good one.”

His voice danced lightly, as if humming a soft tune. Taeheon listened quietly.

“There used to be many high priests and young acolytes. Before the great temple was moved to the capital… I was not alone.”

“……”

“The young ones often wandered into the woods seeking peaches and got lost. I would go find them.”

A faint laugh escaped him — wistful, aching.

“Do you miss them?”

The simple question made Noah pause. His expression dimmed and he shook his head softly.

“Even if I do… I cannot see them anymore.”

War had always required soldiers first — and priests second. Noah survived each battlefield only because of his immense divine power. But the young acolytes did not.

Noah chose solitude so he wouldn’t be reminded — so the weight of their loss wouldn’t crush him.

“I have no face left to meet them.”

Children he might have saved if he had been there — the thought had haunted him ever since.

“Then I’ll meet them for you.”

Taeheon spoke, logged in as LimpLeg1219. Noah turned, stunned.

“I’ll tell them you’re doing well. That you’ll live well. They must wonder about you too.”

Noah’s eyes widened. How did Taeheon always notice the things he could not say aloud?

“I can’t grind levels like Jeonghyeok. But if I roam around long enough, I’ll meet them, right? The kids you raised.”

“You would… enter the game not to level up, but to meet my acolytes?”

“Leveling is already hard in real life — why grind inside a game too?”

Grumbling, Taeheon moved his character. Noah smiled and finally clicked Login for “SteelWarrior1234.”

Light flashed — and the game loaded.

SteelWarrior1234 (Lv. 30) — Cleric

Modeled after Airon’s physique, the burly SteelWarrior1234 had not a single combat skill, having advanced into the self-sacrificial Cleric class. In raid groups, clerics were often mocked as mere “heal-shuttles.”

Footnotes

Jjagyechi (짜계치): A trendy Korean PC-café dish — jjajang-ramen + egg + cheese mixture.