#except jinho knows about the system

[ghostfiish]

this dialogue from @phantomrose96 and i yammering back and forth in this post didn't fit in that first comic anywhere organically, so instead i put it in the episode 6 spot that this was originally a riff on

[mydearestbeloved]

Chapter 7 [Draft]

Sung Jinwoo/Trial Player!Reader

CW:

Inspired by @circeyoru ‘s “Future Power Couple”

[Masterlist🦋✨️]

It was strange. After reuniting with the system through Jinwoo, it continued to address you as "Trial Player," but something had changed. No more quests appeared, and it never responded when you tried to access your status screen. It was as if the system's more tangible functions had vanished. However, it still spoke to you— chiming in with its usual comments and banter, , but there was an undeniable distance between the system’s functionality and its conversations with you now.

You’d debated for a while whether to show Jinwoo more of your powers, especially the ones you kept hidden. This time, the system seemed to encourage it, nudging you here and there, still within the boundaries it had set, but you were the one who hesitated. Maybe it was guilt. Or maybe, it was gratitude.

Whatever the reason, you felt the need to open up.

But only if Jinwoo asked first.

---

You didn't expect to be here, in the depths of yet another C-rank dungeon, fighting alongside Sung Jinwoo and his shadow soldiers. It felt as though the system had decided to twist the narrative again. The access to C-rank dungeons, something Jinwoo originally sought by partnering with Jinho, keys of its instant dungeon version were suddenly dropped into his lap the moment you joined his party.

It was unnerving. You screamed internally whenever you thought about how the system was changing things simply because you were here. It felt like a cosmic joke, one that you couldn’t quite laugh at.

Still, you kept your composure, thankful for leveling up your <Act> skill. Otherwise, your unease might have been more obvious to Jinwoo, who was already watching you with quiet intensity. He hadn’t asked much, but his sharp eyes were always on you. Every little move, every spell you cast, every flutter of your butterflies—he didn’t miss a thing.

Today was no different, except for the massive Hydra that stood in your path.

"Of course, a Hydra," you muttered under your breath, more to yourself than anyone. You had encountered one before, in another world, in the hanging gardens. At least you knew what to do.

The Hydra roared, its heads writhing as Jinwoo leapt into action, shadows swarming around him. His movements were fast, precise, cutting through the creature with ease, but each wound healed almost instantly. Frustration began to build in his expression as the heads regenerated, one after another, no matter how many times he severed them.

You let him take the lead, silently sending out your butterflies to survey the battlefield. They fluttered around the Hydra, hovering near its wounds. You knew this creature well enough to know how it worked. Regeneration was its strongest weapon, but also its greatest weakness—if you knew how to handle it.

As the battle dragged on, Jinwoo began to notice something. The Hydra’s regeneration was slowing down. Each time a head was severed, it took just a bit longer to grow back. His eyes darted between the butterflies and you, a question forming in his mind, though now wasn’t the right time to speak it out loud.

One of the Hydra's heads lunged at Jinwoo, faster than the others. He dodged, but not quickly enough, and found himself momentarily caught in midair. Multiple heads reared up, preparing to strike from all sides.

That was your cue to step in.

Before they could reach him, the Hydra convulsed, its heads jerking back as if struck by an invisible force. Its body shuddered, and thick, black poison oozed from its open mouths. Seconds later, the massive beast collapsed in a heap.

Jinwoo landed gracefully, turning to you, his expression unreadable. “What did you do?” he asked, his voice calm but laced with curiosity.

You took a deep breath, readying yourself for the explanation. "My butterflies play a part," you began, gesturing toward the glowing creatures still flitting around the Hydra’s corpse. "They help me resonate with the target. In this case, the Hydra's regeneration was a biological process, and I used my power to disrupt it."

"How?" Jinwoo’s gaze was steady, his interest piqued.

"By speeding up its cell cycle," you explained. "Every cell has a lifespan. The faster they divide, the faster they die. I forced the Hydra’s cells to reach the end of their life faster than they could regenerate, step by step. Eventually, it couldn't recover fast enough."

Jinwoo’s eyes narrowed slightly. "And how did you kill it?"

You met his gaze, knowing this part would need a bit more explanation. "I accelerated the production of its poison. The sack that holds the venom was overproducing without increasing in size, which caused it to rupture. The poison had nowhere to go, so it began flooding its body.”

So, it drowned in its own venom.

He raised an eyebrow at that, clearly intrigued. "So, you can manipulate any biological process?"

"Not any," you admitted. "I need to know the structure of the enemy’s body first. It’s not something I can do blindly."

Jinwoo seemed to consider your words for a moment before asking, "Have you fought a Hydra before?"

You hesitated, careful not to reveal too much. The system chimed in at the back of your mind, warning you not to stray too far from what was allowed. "Yes," you said carefully. "Once. In another dungeon."

There was a brief silence as Jinwoo processed that information. His expression remained neutral, but you could see the gears turning in his mind. He wanted to know more, that much was clear, but he didn’t push further. Instead, he simply nodded. "I see."

You were grateful for the system’s guidance, keeping you from saying too much. Still, Jinwoo’s silence unnerved you. He was always calm, always composed, but you couldn’t help but wonder what he was truly thinking.

He didn’t say anything else as the two of you made your way out of the dungeon. His face gave nothing away, but you knew this was far from over. The more you revealed, the more questions he would have.

And yet, as unnerving as it was, you found a strange comfort in his curiosity. Maybe, just maybe, it was nice to finally have someone who wanted to understand you.

---

Jinwoo had always been observant, and it didn’t take long for him to start piecing things together about you and your butterflies. He didn’t pry too much at first, but you could tell he was forming his own conclusions.

The butterflies were more than they seemed. It was obvious to him that they were some sort of summons, which meant you weren’t just a healer—you had to be a mage as well. A hybrid. Something rare, if not completely unheard of. But then again, he himself was an anomaly in the world of hunters, so perhaps it wasn’t too surprising that you were too.

Still, there were aspects of your abilities he couldn’t quite figure out, and after a few raids together, he finally asked.

It was during a break between fights, his shadow soldiers standing idle while your butterflies fluttered around them. Jinwoo watched, his gaze following their movements carefully before he finally spoke up.

“What exactly do they do?” he asked, his voice steady. “Your butterflies.”

You weren’t surprised by the question. You knew it was coming sooner or later. As always, you waited for him to ask before you explained anything. You turned toward him, meeting his eyes before giving your answer.

“They work on the basis of ‘life,’” you said slowly, trying to explain it in terms he could understand. “Not just mana. Life is a distinct force, and my butterflies draw from that. When they surround an enemy, they drain that life force, weakening them. That energy is then transferred to our allies—in this case, your shadow soldiers—in the form of boosts and heals.”

Jinwoo’s eyes narrowed slightly. “So they drain life even from the dead?”

You nodded. “To an extent. Freshly killed enemies still emit some life force, but it’s limited. The real power comes from living targets.”

He took in that information, but you could tell it wasn’t the whole of his curiosity. After a moment, he asked again, “And the confusion they cause?”

“They emit a type of energy that wraps around the enemies’ minds,” you explained. “It creates illusions, distorts their senses, making them easier to take down. The draining of their life force makes this easier, weakens their resistance. But the stronger the enemy, the harder it is to affect them.”

Jinwoo processed that with a calm nod, but his gaze flickered toward his shadow soldiers, who were still surrounded by your butterflies. His expression shifted slightly, a protective tension in his stance as he asked his next question.

“They’ve been near my soldiers a lot,” he said, his voice tighter now. “What are they doing when there are no enemies around?”

You understood his concern immediately. You were protective of your butterflies, just as he was protective of his shadows. The two forces had been interacting closely during battles, and it made sense for him to be more cautious now that he knew what your children were capable off.

“They’re not draining anything from your soldiers,” you assured him. “They’re sentient enough to know the difference between allies and enemies. They won’t harm your shadows. In fact…” you hesitated for a moment, glancing at the red child that hovered near Igris. “I think they’re drawn to them.”

“Drawn to them?” Jinwoo’s brows furrowed slightly.

“I’m still trying to figure it out myself,” you admitted. “But I think it’s the nature of your shadows. They’re not exactly alive, but there’s a strange energy there. My butterflies seem… curious. They like being near them, but they won’t harm them. I promise.”

Jinwoo’s expression didn’t change much, but you noticed a slight shift in his posture. He seemed less tense, less guarded, though he was still processing everything you’d told him.

“They obey you?” he asked, his tone softer now.

“Completely,” you said firmly. “They’re my creations. They won’t act against my will.”

He seemed to accept that, though you could tell he was still intrigued, still trying to wrap his head around the mechanics of your power. He gave a small nod, his eyes returning to the butterflies as they fluttered peacefully around his shadows.

As ever, Jinwoo’s face didn’t reveal much, but you could sense the subtle easing of tension between the two of you. He was still fascinated by you—perhaps even more so now—but for the moment, at least, he seemed reassured.

The partnership continued, and while his questions weren’t over, you couldn’t help but feel that, little by little, you were gaining Jinwoo’s trust.

---

The battle with the giant had been exhausting, dragging on far longer than either of you expected. Despite Jinwoo’s overwhelming strength and the power of his shadows, the sheer size and resilience of the giant made every blow feel like a drop in an ocean. The creature’s endurance was staggering, each wound seemingly insignificant compared to its massive frame.

Jinwoo pressed on, keeping the pressure on the giant. His shadows flanked it, landing blow after blow, but it wasn’t enough to break through. You observed for a while, assessing the situation, and then you stepped in.

You raised your hands, eyes narrowing as you focused on the giant's movements, its wounds, and the slowing rhythm of its defenses. You channeled your energy into casting the spell, watching as the giant’s already open wounds began to fester, the flesh darkening as your magic took effect.

After the giant collapsed, Jinwoo turned to you, his eyes sharp, the question already forming on his lips. You knew it was coming, just as you always did.

“Why didn’t you do that from the start?” he asked, his tone steady but laced with curiosity.

You took a moment before answering, gathering your thoughts. “I did, technically. It’s just... it’s more complicated than the hydra.” You gestured to the fallen giant, still smoldering from the effects of your spell. “Generally, decay in organic matter of the livings involves a lot more processes than just cellular breakdown. Different creatures have different weaknesses.”

Jinwoo’s eyes narrowed in understanding, but you could tell he wanted more details. You obliged.

“With the hydra, I was blocking its regeneration—a single process. That was straightforward. But this?” You gestured to the giant again. “Giants have no particularly enhanced regeneration, but there are no weak points like a poison sac I can exploit. The problem is their endurance.”

You paused, trying to put the mechanics of your magic into terms Jinwoo would understand. “In this case, I have to target several things at once. Disrupting healing signals, accelerating metabolic waste production to cause toxin buildup—it’s all about overwhelming the giant’s natural endurance. And that takes a lot of energy, and more importantly, time.”

Jinwoo’s gaze flicked between you and the fallen giant, his expression unreadable, but his attention was unwavering.

“I also have to know how the creature’s body works,” you continued, “which is why it’s easier with creatures that are similar to humans. A giant’s body isn’t too different from ours—just bigger and tougher. But that also means I need more mana to make the spell effective.”

You had a passing thought, realizing you would need to study more on the anatomy of different creatures to fine-tune your magic in the future. There were a few books you'd picked up from the system’s shop during your trial phase, those were looking more useful by the second. And if perchance they didn’t, you were sure there would be some references in the Garden’s library.

As you were lost in thought, you spoke absentmindedly, “Having you here made it easier, though.”

Jinwoo raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

You blinked, realizing you’d voiced your thoughts aloud. “I need time and a lot of focus to cast <Decay>. Your attacks created the openings I needed and you also kept the giant from attacking me. Without them, I wouldn’t have been able to make the spell work as quickly.”

For a moment, Jinwoo’s face remained impassive, as it usually did, but then, unexpectedly, he let out a soft laugh. It wasn’t mocking, but it caught you off guard nonetheless.

“What’s funny?” you asked, unable to hide your curiosity.

His laughter faded, and his expression returned to its neutral state, but there was a slight shift in his demeanor, something lighter, more relaxed. He shook his head, as if dismissing the thought.

“Nothing,” he said, his voice calm but with a trace of amusement. “Just… interesting.”

That word lingered in the air, and it reminded you of the first time you had officially met him—how he had regarded you then, intrigued but cautious. Now, even with his suspicions, there was a familiarity between you, a shared understanding that went beyond just combat.

You didn’t know if his reaction was a good omen or not, but at this point, you figured you’d find out soon enough.

---

The battle with the rock golemn was dragging on longer than expected. Jinwoo had fought golemns before, and you both knew he could take this one down in an instant. But instead, he seemed to be toying with it, almost as if he were waiting for something.

You watched his movements carefully and sighed inwardly. He should’ve just asked.

Extending your hand, you focused on the golemn’s surface. "<Erosion>," you muttered, watching the cracks running along its stone form deepened, spreading as the rock began to crumble. It didn’t explode dramatically, didn’t shatter in an instant, but it got the job done.

It weathered, as if time itself had fast-forwarded. The rock golemn’s sturdy form slowly disintegrate before your eyes. Dust, pebbles, and debris collapsed onto the ground, leaving nothing but remnants of what had once been a towering figure.

Jinwoo approached, his expression as unreadable as ever, but you knew what was coming. By now, it had become a routine—he fought, you intervened, and then came the questions.

This time, however, you didn’t wait for him to ask first. "You were waiting for me." you stated flatly, meeting his gaze.

Jinwoo didn’t deny it. He nodded once, silently asking you to explain further.

You sighed and began, "Erosion is different from the other spells I’ve used. It’s all about weakening the bonds between molecules. I accelerate corrosion, cracks, and disintegration. But with inorganic material like stone, it’s not as straightforward as organic decay."

Jinwoo listened intently, his gaze never leaving you.

"I rely heavily on ‘time’ for this spell," you continued. "It’s more mana-intensive than my healing spells. Organic matter, like living beings, have biological systems that heal themselves naturally. So when I cast decay, I’m just accelerating those processes—making sure the wounds break down faster than they can heal. But inorganic matter? Rocks? They don’t regenerate. So I’m essentially reversing that process, speeding up their destruction."

Jinwoo tilted his head slightly. "And that’s why it takes longer."

"Exactly," you confirmed. "Decay works from the inside out, disrupting life processes. But erosion works from the outside in. Normally, erosion is caused by elements like water, air, or heat, so it takes a lot more time—and mana—to break down something solid like a golemn."

You glanced at the spot where the golemn once stood. “It’s a good thing these golemns are still tied to life force, make it easier to weaken them.”

You sighed again. "To be honest, <Erosion> is a pain in the ass to use. I could’ve just blasted the thing apart with elemental magic."

Jinwoo raised an eyebrow at that. "Then why didn’t you?"

You hesitated. "It’s... not fair of me."

Jinwoo’s expression remained neutral, but his curiosity was palpable. "What do you mean?"

You mumbled, more to yourself than to him, "It wouldn’t be fair... to you."

Jinwoo blinked, taken aback. "What?"

Your lips pressed into a thin line. Your heart felt heavy, unsure if you should continue, but the words slipped out anyway. Perhaps it was guilt, lingering from the fact that you knew Jinwoo, his story, his world—everything—while he barely knew you. His suspicions were understandable. Or perhaps, it was gratitude. Gratitude for his presence, for making this familiar yet unfamiliar world feel a little less isolating. Despite the fact that you were unsure why he kept you around—be it suspicion or something else—he was trying to understand you.

"Look," you started, trying to gather your thoughts, "this spell… it's tricky. It’s not my most effective move, not by a long shot. But you wanted to see what I was capable of, didn’t you?"

Jinwoo’s eyes narrowed slightly. He wasn’t following, not yet.

You pressed on, speaking more clearly. "I'm showing you the limits of my powers. My weaknesses. I already struggle with living beings made from inorganic materials. Things like... the undead, they’re not easy for me to handle."

The words hung in the air between you. It was a risk, revealing something so vulnerable to someone like Jinwoo, who was always several steps ahead. He was the type to observe, analyze, and act with precision. And now you’d given him something that could be used against you.

Jinwoo’s silence was telling, his mind clearly processing your words. Then, in that moment, something seemed to click for him. He might not understand the full scope of your situation—how could he, when your existence was tied to something far beyond this world? But he recognized what you were doing.

You were offering him trust.

A sign of vulnerability, one that Jinwoo quietly acknowledged. His gaze softened, but his expression didn’t shift enough for you to fully read him.

Your thoughts spiraled, berating yourself. Why did you show him that? Years of surviving alone had isolated you. ‘Don’t trust others so easily’ was a bit different between you and him. Jinwoo was still, in many ways, a stranger. Yet, here you were, offering him something fragile—a piece of yourself that he could very well use however he pleased.

But it was too late now.

You stood there, still silently chastising yourself, while Jinwoo turned to the dust of the fallen golemn. He didn’t say anything, but you knew he had understood. Even if you both remained distant, even if you weren’t sure if you could call each other friends, there was now something in that previously empty space between you.

You just had to live with it.

End Note:

Unedited Draft of [018/10/2024] - Trust

I'm sorry if the developments seems a bit fast-paced or sudden, considering this is also still a draft. I just want to let all these drafts out before I went MIA again for a few months. College life is hella hectic. T-T