Chapter 97: Horizon of Communication (Part 1)

The Horizon of Communication has been downgraded to Version 1.1.

Horizon of Communication.

I had completely forgotten about it.

This new Status Window feature was unlocked by completing a special quest. It became available immediately after I acquired the Heavenly Blood Book and awakened my demonic blood.

But after taking an absurdly long time under the guise of “applying the downgrade,” it was finally operational.

Manager Mi, who had checked the notification with me, hurriedly opened the chat window.

The icon.

When I checked the menu screen of my Status Window, the “Horizon of Communication” icon immediately caught my eye.

A pixelated sun rose above the horizon.

“So, this isn’t the current version, huh?”

“Hmm.”

Manager Mi trailed off, muttering busily to herself.

In contrast, I nonchalantly stroked my chin, having never held high expectations for this feature in the first place.

“Manager Mi, so what exactly does this Horizon of Communication do?”

Manager Mi paused thoughtfully before continuing.

“Right.”

“So, it’s like a community site where you can observe the entire spectrum of humanity.”

“Except this one allows every All-Dimensional Status Window user to post.”

“So, instead of just the spectrum of humanity, you’d be seeing the spectrum of all existence.”

“Though, of course, it would lean more toward the negative side.”

“Maybe it’s better not to check it at all,” I muttered, my finger hovering over the Horizon of Communication icon before stopping.

Just browsing Parsley Market’s Scribbled Records, which only targets its users, already made my head spin.

It was obvious what kind of attention-seeking trolls and aggro villains had overrun the Horizon of Communication.

“So, you want to pollute my mind?”

“You’ve never seen it before?”

It seemed the Horizon of Communication was a more venerable feature than I had realized.

Ancient or not, sifting through endless drivel sounded like a waste of time and exhausting.

“Well, I guess I could take a quick look.”

Manager Mi’s words had piqued my curiosity. Why would Remarkable Growth specifically reactivate a long-deactivated community feature?

Could it be that the early version of Horizon of Communication…

…contained something that could actually aid my Growth, unlike the current version?

“Alright, let’s do this.”

I steeled myself and tapped the pixelated icon.

Immediately, a notification popped up:

A surprisingly familiar screen materialized.

The interface was almost identical to the community site where I’d previously posted about my Status Window glitching out.

At the top, posts with the most recommendations were pinned under the “Featured Posts” section. Below that, user-written posts were listed in chronological order.

The only difference was that instead of timestamps, only the authors’ IDs were displayed.

“The Hellion Empire… As far as I know, it was destroyed long ago.”

Manager Mi’s reaction confirmed my suspicions: these posts were ancient, meaning the forum was completely abandoned.

I started slowly skimming through the pinned threads.

But after reading just three—including the “Horizon of Communication Villain Compendium”—I decided, “Let’s stop here.”

“B-but you’ve only checked three threads!”

“Three threads are enough to kill my motivation.”

I was certain. Among the countless posts listed here, there wasn’t even a speck of information that could aid my growth.

“Umm… I can’t really argue with that.”

“Right?”

Nodding, I moved my finger toward the Status Window.

Time to escape this chaotic mess as quickly as possible.

I decided to window-shop at Parsley Market to clear my head.

Just then, an unexpected notification popped up: “Horizon of Communication - New Post.”

“Huh?”

“I thought this was shut down.”

I glanced up at the chat window by my bedside, my gaze demanding an explanation.

But…

Indeed.

Horizon of Communication Version 1.1 had long been discontinued, its servers shut down, making it inaccessible to anyone. It was nothing more than the weathered remnants of a once-glorious civilization—a desolate ruin of a fallen world.

Yet now…

Someone had fired a flare from somewhere within that sandstorm-swept wasteland.

I reactivated Horizon of Communication.

Manager Mi abruptly paused the chat, visibly flustered and struggling to process this information. She might have been debating whether to report it directly to her superiors.

But this time, I was the one who asked, “There’s no chance the post could contain a virus, is there?”

Better safe than sorry, as the saying goes. After my encounter with Azazel, I’d confirmed the existence of viruses that could mess with the Status Window. Caution was warranted.

“Good to know.”

”…”

I nodded, a somewhat awkward expression on my face at the strangely realistic advice.

Then, cautiously, I clicked on the topmost post, marked with an “N.”

The title said it all. It was an utterly straightforward post.

Whether the old-fashioned 말투 was a persona or genuine didn’t really matter to me.

But Manager Mi chimed in, displaying an intrigued emoji.

“There’s an IP address here too?”

Leaving Manager Mi deep in thought, I turned my attention back to the Status Window.

3,956 days…

That means he’s been alone on this bulletin board for over ten years?

“But it looks like he’s posted every day for 3,956 days. Why can’t I see the rest of his posts?”

“This guy must have absolutely nothing better to do,” I muttered, expressing my honest impression.

Of course, if it’s just a persona, there’s nothing more to say.

But what if he really has been posting every single day for 3,956 days?

Why would someone worry about being suspended while posting every day for ten years straight without missing a single one?

Why was I still lingering on a forum no one else used?

This was the kind of person I would normally never interact with.

Yet, I couldn’t bring myself to leave the post.

It was simply because Sky Thief was the sole remaining user on Horizon of Communication Version 1.1.

That was all.

Then, suddenly—

Ding! A new comment appeared.

Sky Thief (157.98): ?

Sky Thief (157.98): The view count just went up by one?

Sky Thief (157.98): Is anyone reading my post right now? If so, please leave a comment.

Three comments poured in rapidly, one after the other.

I hesitated for a moment.

But since I’d already decided to engage…

YY (467.23): Hello.

I replied with my own comment.

About five minutes later…

”…What the hell is going on?”

I frowned, muttering to myself.

The moment I replied, the comments abruptly stopped.

Have I been tricked?

But why would someone bother posting on a closed forum for 3,956 days just to trick someone?

Just as I was pondering this, trying to remain patient, a notification popped up:

A notification I’d never seen before appeared before my eyes.

“A face-to-face chat?”

This time, Manager Mi was even more astonished than I was. Staring at the blinking notification window, she asked, “What’s this?”

“That feature existed?”

“Why not?”

Ah, I see.

Come to think of it, Parsley Market also removed its direct transaction feature due to similar risks.

I suppose it was originally intended for Status Window users to have private, face-to-face chats.

Posting something like that on an anonymous online community would undoubtedly cause more harm than good.

“So, what do you think? Should I give it a try?”

With that assurance, there was no reason to hesitate.

I took a deep breath and tapped my Status Window.

A new notification flashed across my vision.

My view suddenly went dark, as if a curtain had been drawn, and a sense of weightlessness engulfed my entire body.

This felt familiar.

It was that familiar sensation of entering a Dimensional Gate through a dungeon.

But when I opened my eyes, the scene before me was nothing like the dimly lit dungeons I expected.

The clear sound of a babbling stream flowed into my ears.

Overhead, dense trees formed a lush canopy, their branches interlacing to frame glimpses of a cloudless, azure sky.

As I watched the unfamiliar weeds tickling my ankles, Manager Mi’s chat window popped up.

“You can decorate your Communication Dimension however you want?”

“Yes, that’s right. The Communication Dimension allocated to each user is essentially a blank slate, devoid of basic resources like water and oxygen. From there, they can introduce Mana, internal energy, or advanced technology. Users can then use these resources to construct and decorate virtual structures or organisms. They can even modify the terrain and background during the initial design phase.”

It seemed Sky Thief favored lush forests brimming with the scent of fresh grass.

Or perhaps he had originally lived in a place like this.

Of course, there was no need to keep speculating.

”…”

A small stream of crystal-clear water flowed nearby.

Perched on a massive boulder beside it, someone was looking down at me.