It Wasn't Intentional - 1

"I'm home."

Baek Seojin is an orphan. Which means there’s no one here to answer my greeting. Still, no matter what I did, I could never break this habit. Maybe it was something the original Baek Seojin developed out of loneliness—waiting for someone, anyone, to welcome him back after another brutal day. Now that I’ve become Baek Seojin, I was unconsciously repeating the same ritual.

“Haaaa…”

Today felt especially exhausting. It was like my superior had been tearing into me nonstop. Physically, I was drained from running the cadets’ evaluations and sparring with Jeong Yuhyeon. Mentally, Kim Suhyun had pushed me to my limit.

‘I’m going to lose my mind. What the hell kind of seed ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠got planted?’

The second I checked the detailed information with the Third Eye, I nearly had a heart attack. I’d barely stopped her from being dragged away by the Elders and twisted the future where she became the Red Witch. Yet the seed that had taken root was “anger.” That was incredibly ominous. The fact that it happened because of me made it even worse. After everything I went through, had I accidentally caused this?

I shouldn’t have said anything. I should have kept my mouth shut. Why did I have to run my mouth?

If I had to find a silver lining, it was that her trait remained unchanged. If the trigger for becoming the Red Witch had activated because of me, the trait would have definitely shifted. But even right before we parted ways, nothing had changed when I checked.

It’ll probably be fine. Yeah. It has to be nothing. Let’s stop worrying and just rest.

When you thought about it, that anger was ultimately for someone’s sake, right? It wasn’t rage toward the world or all of humanity. So maybe it was okay?

‘Starting tomorrow, I need to keep checking on Kim Suhyun. Make sure there’s really no problem.’

Conveniently, I had been planning to recommend she take the Silver promotion exam. Using the Sweet After Bitter trait would give her an enormous boost. If the Red Witch became an ally instead of an enemy, she would be incredibly reliable.

Unlike Lee Hyunwoo, however, Kim Suhyun couldn’t jump straight to Silver. I needed to stack as many—absolutely as many—stacks as possible before promoting her. That way, even at Silver rank, she could aim for Gold or even higher.

Reaching the point where she could fight Gold-rank opponents right after hitting Silver? That single fact could completely shatter the inferiority complex tormenting Kim Suhyun. Lee Hyunwoo could also leap forward and grow even faster.

All of that was a future that would arrive simply by taking the Silver exam many times.

‘I wish the other kids would stop looking only for easy paths and develop a longer-term view.’

It might be asking too much of students. After all, they had no idea what kind of catastrophes would descend on the world—disasters that made the current situation look like a joke. Unfortunately, even I only had a vague understanding. I’d possessed this body after only skimming the original story.

After showering and changing clothes, I threw together a quick dinner. I hadn’t done anything since getting home, yet my body already felt heavy. Just what kind of monsters went straight to the gym right after work? Some people even exercised before work, put in a full day, then went back to the gym again for their routine.

‘They’re not human. A normal person couldn’t live like that.’

This was a problem. I knew I really needed to exercise, but I wasn’t familiar with that world. Thanks to the Silver Gatekeeper trait, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I could push my body to its limits, but the doubled stamina consumption was very real. My original fitness was keeping me going for now, but the moment I slipped, it would be over. Stamina was like mileage—hard to accumulate, but lost in an instant.

‘And yet here I am, sitting in front of the computer again like an idiot.’

This part was unavoidable. Both the original Baek Seojin and the current me had the same habit: the first thing we did after coming home from work was sit down at the computer.

From the moment I opened my eyes to go to work until the second I left the office, my life had been nothing but stress. Games were the only space where I could vent even a little of it. To be precise, they relieved about ten points of stress and then piled on eighty more. Still, since work stacked up around five hundred, it was manageable.

Strangely enough, the game I used to play existed here in exactly the same form. Legend of League. The most popular AOS game in the world right now. And for me, a place forever stained with the tears and resentment of failing my Silver promotion matches ninety-nine times.

It seemed the original Baek Seojin had played it too. Unlike me, however, he had escaped Bronze. Or rather, since I had become Baek Seojin, it was safe to say I had reached Silver.

At first it felt absurd. The wish to reach Silver just once had been granted in such a way. So even Baek Seojin—no, the me of this world—had crossed that deep, vast river called Bronze.

‘It’s been a while.’

It had been nearly two weeks since my last login. Overtime had been brutal before my Academy dispatch, so I’d collapse the moment ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I got home. Once overtime eased, I was immediately sent to the Academy. Then came the Academy raid and hospitalization.

That was my in-game nickname. How could it be so perfectly on the nose? It felt like the past me who desperately wanted Silver and the past Baek Seojin had somehow pooled their strength. And somehow, I had truly surpassed Bronze and arrived in Silver.

As usual, I planned to queue for a normal game, get the first-win bonus, and log off. I had work tomorrow and my body was exhausted.

Since I had already reached Silver, I saw no need to grind more points. My only goal had been escaping Bronze; I had no desire for anything beyond that. I knew my own skill level better than anyone, so aiming higher seemed impossible anyway.

“Hmm.”

Click—

But why was my hand pressing the ranked queue instead of normal?

Did I click the wrong button? Or had my hand moved there out of pure habit?

I should cancel right now. If I got matched with monsters again…

Shit.

For a moment I hesitated. Canceling now wouldn’t be a big deal. The penalty was minor. It almost never happened.

‘But why the hell…’

Why did the confirm button look so tempting? My mouth was practically watering.

Madcat. A streamer whose main content was casual chatter and singing, with a sizable following. Her specialty was bouncing between witty banter, laid-back charm, and cuteness. Until recently she had been doing happy, relaxed streams.

“Hello everyone. I won’t waste time talking. I’m going all-out today. I stayed up until dawn yesterday and only managed two wins and two losses. Today I’m getting one win, hitting Silver, and ascending to heaven, so don’t try to stop me.”

She had been suffering unimaginable agony lately. The cause was a sudden mission that appeared a while ago.

It hadn’t started with such an insane amount. It began at thirty thousand won. Madcat, who had never been interested in games, had tried to refuse. But the reward kept climbing—past one million, then two million won. When combined with the other Silver-related missions, the total approached five million.

Even for a big company, that kind of money was impossible to ignore.

“I’m clearing this mission today! Then I’m deleting the game!! Aaaaaah!!”

Madcat slammed her desk and shouted. Moments later, a loud bang echoed as the door behind her flew open.

The camera angle made it hard to see clearly, but a male voice could be faintly heard beyond the empty screen. When Madcat reappeared, she clicked her tongue in annoyance.

“Ugh, I said I’m sorry! You’re loud when you stream too! Just go already. I’ll be quiet.”

Madcat, who had run out briefly, let out a long sigh and sat back down. The viewers who had been watching the situation unfold immediately began chanting a name.

The man scolding her was Madcat’s older brother. His identity was Clover, a former pro player for Legend of League who had retired recently. He had won the domestic league championship multiple times—he was the real deal. That was why a game mission had suddenly appeared on her stream. “Your brother is a famous pro gamer, how can his sister be unranked?”

At first Madcat had shouted that it had nothing to do with her, but no one could resist a mission with the right price. The numbers made sense, and honestly, as a pro gamer’s sister, Silver should be doable. Refusing a mission like this meant she wasn’t a real streamer!

“Is what the old me would have said?”

Madcat paused, thinking deeply. “I feel like I would tell myself, ‘This path leads straight to hell. Turn back.’”

Her heartfelt words turned the chat into a sea of laughter.

Today marked a little over a month since the mission appeared. She hadn’t stopped playing entirely—she had played quite a bit, just never ranked. Only normals. That was why Madcat had let her guard down. She thought Silver would be easy. A piece of cake. Just a generous donation from a loyal fan.

But she soon learned that even the bottom had a deeper bottom.

“How many promotion attempts is this? Didn’t I already put it in the notice? This is my fourteenth try today.”

“…At that point isn’t it a skill issue, not team diff? No, I admit it. But I still have to reach Silver. I bragged about my brother Clover. If I fail now, they’ll disown me.”

While she spoke, the game began.

Her fourteenth Silver promotion match. Please, just let me finish this mission. She prayed desperately to whatever god might be listening.

And then…

“No!! Seriously! Isn’t that guy on an alt account?! This is bullshit!!”

Madcat clutched her head and screamed. The viewers’ reactions were all over the place.

“Uwaaaaaah!!”

After seeing the result screen, Madcat could only scream again. The player who had literally torn her team apart—including her, who had been in mid lane. A ruthless game ruiner that could only be described as a catastrophe.