Is the Balance Game Hosted by KokoaTalk?

"You're still here…?"

"Yeah~ I just finished up myself."

Getting caught reacting to the cold air was a little embarrassing, but fortunately I managed to steer the conversation elsewhere.

"Um, your name is… well, actually I already know your name… could I get your number?"

"Huh??"

"We should work out together sometimes! Today was so much fun!"

"Ah… sure."

It wasn't some calculated move driven by ulterior motives — and precisely because of that, I was able to keep my composure.

Bzzzt—

"Save my number too!"

The moment she got my number, she called me right away. I tried to save hers immediately, but hit a wall from the start.

"Um, your name is…"

"Ahahaha! Did I not tell you? Kang. A. Jeong! Kang Ajeong. Which way are you headed?"

"Toward the station."

"Aww, too bad~ That's the opposite direction. I'll text you!"

Even after finishing her workout, she was still brimming with energy.

It was a fifty-fifty shot…!

I watched her walk away, despairing over the fact that we were going different directions. I couldn't tear my eyes off the way her plump, firm hips swayed with every step.

"Ah."

She ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠eventually glanced back, and our eyes met. She beamed and waved, so I waved back — awkwardly, but I did.

"Signing up for three years was the right call…"

Two hours of working out, just the two of us. At the time I'd been too focused on the exercises to notice, but looking back, couldn't that count as a kind of date?

Maybe the three-year membership came with instructions to give me three years of personal training. Either way, today had been free — so as long as I was careful going forward, it should be fine.

On the walk home, I checked my newly added KokoaTalk friend.

(Kang Ajeong)

Unfortunately, both her profile picture and background were the default images.

Even after I got home, I kept peeking at our chat window — but no message came.

"She definitely said she'd text first…"

Apparently that didn't mean today.

The next morning.

Unlike yesterday, when I'd slept in with a hangover, I woke up at eight and enjoyed a leisurely morning. As planned, I left the house at eleven.

Bang! Click-click—!

I headed toward the gym, and somewhere along the way a sweet scent drifted past.

"Sniff…"

Strawberry?

I looked around, searching for the source of that sweet strawberry fragrance.

"Ah."

The culprit was probably an e-cigarette.

Damn, secondhand smoke…

I'd gotten more than my fill of secondhand smoke in the military — familiar, and yet something I thoroughly despised. Wondering who the hell was smoking right outside my building, I checked their face.

"Ah."

The moment our eyes met, I pretended not to notice and quickened my pace.

Bright yellow-dyed hair, a sharp, intimidating look. There were even flower-shaped tattoos visible on her shoulder and hip. The classic delinquent-girl type.

Not the kind of person who'd listen even if I said something — and I didn't want to talk to her anyway. For all I knew, some scary older guys might show up if I did.

Yeah… it's not like she's smoking inside the building…

Forced into a sudden burst of generosity, I decided to let it go since the smoke wasn't actually coming into the apartment.

A day that started with secondhand smoke. I could make up for it at the gym, right?

Unfortunately, I never ran into Ajeong — the girl I'd worked out with yesterday — for the entire session. I'd hoped I might catch her on her shift, but apparently she came in later than I expected.

Even so, my steps on the way home felt light. There was a reason for that.

I'd set a new personal record on deadlift.

My previous max had been 120 kg — and sure enough, my working sets had been at that same 120. The heaviest bar already loaded in the free-weight area was 120 kg, with two 25 kg plates bonded permanently in place for squat and deadlift use.

Suspicious of the weight, I'd started from my warm-up loads and ramped up quickly, eventually hitting 160 kg. I felt like I could have gone higher, but I stopped at 160 to leave enough in the tank for plate-cleanup sets.

"Ajeong should've seen that…"

I considered texting her, but opening with a weight-brag for the first message didn't feel right, so I dropped the idea.

Bench press plus deadlift already totaled 260. Throw in squat and I'd probably clear 400 on the big three. Unfortunately, squats only appeared once a week in my routine — locked in for Saturdays — so there was still a fair bit of time left. Nothing I could do about it.

I was reviewing my training plan as I walked, and before I knew it, I was home. Thankfully, the smoking delinquent girl from that morning was nowhere to be seen. I got to breathe clean air and happily top off my protein.

"OKingChicken…?"

While browsing sites looking for chicken breast, I somehow found myself reinstalling the games I'd quit when I enlisted.

League of Legends.

A game that had taken up a huge chunk of my school years. When I enlisted, I'd deleted my account entirely and sworn to live a clean, productive life — and the second I was discharged, I was creating a brand-new one.

Ah, my skins…

I hadn't dumped a fortune into the game, but every skin I'd bought whenever something caught my eye was gone for good. New account meant a new nickname, too.

After a moment of thought, I settled on:

181 ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠75 20

Now that was a proper online ID card, if you asked me.

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As a level-1 account, I was stuck in AI mode only. I had to finish the tutorial and win three matches against bots before I could play with real people. And to access ranked — the true essence of the game — you had to grind all the way to level 30. A brutal entry barrier.

"Haa…"

Even so, quitting this game was impossible. Three days. I'd grind it out however I had to and get into ranked.

How much time had passed?

I'd finished the tutorial and somehow made it all the way to level 15. Sure, levels climbed relatively fast at the start, but it still took a serious amount of time.

I grabbed my phone and threw myself onto the bed to catch my breath.

"Ugh!… Tssah…"

I'd been sitting in a terrible posture without realizing it, and my body was stiff and sore. Figuring I'd watch some YouTube, I unlocked my phone.

"Huh?"

Two hours ago, a KokoaTalk message had come in from Kang Ajeong — the gym staffer.

She must have waited at the same time as yesterday. When I wasn't there, she'd assumed I hadn't shown up at all.

The moment I replied that I'd changed my schedule, the unread "1" vanished. She'd clearly read my message — but no reply came.

…

I stared at the chat window for over a minute. Still nothing. Instead of watching the screen, I switched from silent to vibrate and closed my eyes to wait.

"Hoo…"

As the stiffness in my body eased, the fact that Ajeong had texted me first filled me with a warm, happy feeling.

About five minutes passed.

Bzzzzzt—

My phone buzzed hard. I'd left it right next to my face so I wouldn't miss anything, and it nearly made me jump out of my skin. I opened it with a hopeful heart — and sure enough, it was a KokoaTalk notification.

…

But it wasn't from Kang Ajeong.

Kokoa. The official KokoaTalk channel.

Not quite on the level of KokoaTalk Gifts or KokoaPay, but still one of the few official channels I actually kept around for the occasional check-in. Of all times, why now? I opened it to check the contents.

If it's not important, I'm blocking it immediately.

It was one of only three ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠official channels I'd left alive — but after today, that number might drop to two. I read through the message with the meticulous scrutiny of an intel officer facing a security audit. Once I'd decided to pick it apart this thoroughly, there was no way it was getting off easy.

"Ah."

Out from the very first line — but I decided to read the whole thing just to thoroughly bury it.

Game?

It must have been from one of the various games I'd played toward the end of my service just to kill time. A generic message about filling out a survey for a chance to win prizes. The questions were predictable, so I scrolled halfheartedly — and then a phrase snagged my eyes mid-scroll.

Out of ten questions, one sentence in question three jumped out immediately.

Live with your own face versus receive 1 billion won and randomize your face…

"This is…"

Sensing that this survey was anything but ordinary, I scrolled back up and carefully answered every question from number one, one by one.

Bzzzt—

Another notification buzzed. I quickly switched to silent and refocused on the survey.

…

The final question — number ten.

Hell yes — option one, no question…!

After selecting every answer, I double-checked everything meticulously, half-afraid I'd somehow picked the wrong ones even though it was just a survey. I verified the all-important question ten at least ten more times before hitting complete.

"Hoo…"

I'd burned through an absurd amount of focus in such a short time. The tension drained out of me all at once, leaving me limp.

Bzzzt—

As if determined not to give me a second to rest, another notification arrived immediately. The survey response.

"Sunday…"

Today was Tuesday, so five days to go. I had no idea exactly what kind of reward was coming — but given that this was an individual or organization with transcendent power, it was bound to be something incredible.

"What could it be…"

No matter how hard I thought, nothing specific came to mind. If these people wanted to, they could do literally anything — the possibilities were beyond imagination. And it wasn't just one Sunday. Every Sunday. This wasn't a one-time thing.

Just in case, I sent another message through KokoaTalk, but no new reply came. In the end, I decided to wait until Sunday. Then I remembered I'd switched to silent during the survey and flipped the phone back to vibrate.

"Ah."

I wasn't the only one who'd been waiting for a reply.