To the Eren Continent

"Hey!"

He turned at the hand clapping his back.

"Not heading out? Wanna grab a drink? It's been a while."

"You go on ahead. I've still got some wrapping up to do."

"You got honey slathered all over your house or what? Every time work ends, straight home."

His rejected fellow rookie from orientation pouted. A junior standing nearby chided him.

"Senior, you're always drinking. Ease up a bit."

"Ugh, Na Joo-im, taking the single guy's side? Life's tough for us married folks."

"On a day like today, head home early and get some love from your wife. You've been coming home late from overtime these past few days."

"Ugh! Fine, I'm out! You two have a good life together!"

"Yes! We'll live happily ever after!"

"Hah! With that world-weary monk? Yeah right!"

The office fell quiet again, filled only with the steady clacking of keyboards for a while. It was past 8 when he finally stood. Na Joo-im approached.

"All done? Great work!"

"Yeah. Thanks."

Na Joo-im hesitated, then asked shyly.

"Um... if you're okay with it, how about some chicken and beer?"

"Huh? Sorry. Gotta head home."

"Oh..."

"Today's really important. Sorry. Next time, definitely—chicken and beer."

"Sure..."

He threw on his jacket and drove home.

"Ugh, too fast. Way too fast."

The navigator blared ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠warnings about speeding. His impatience was getting the better of him.

He forced his right foot off the accelerator.

A decade and change had passed, but his challenge continued.

And now, the end was finally in sight.

The moment he got home, he loosened only his tie and wrestled with the computer. He skipped dinner entirely, not moving an inch.

Finally, just before dawn broke.

"Hoo..."

It felt strange. After over ten years of grueling challenge, he'd conquered the peak—yet his chest felt hollow instead.

Only then did he realize.

He'd poured passion into the game to become special, but his real life hadn't changed a bit.

"Still, it was fun. Felt like living a whole extra life at the same time."

Suddenly, countless characters from the game flashed through his mind.

The Black Prince Gail Krakuf, the Black Witch Behind the Veil Celestina Yurin, the Cardinal Cesare Lavaro...

They were just bundles of code. But he couldn't think of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠them that way.

Their responses were so intricate, they felt like real people existed.

And...

"It's really over now."

He instinctively knew he'd never feel that 'fun' again.

"Boring. Better ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠if I could reincarnate in the Eren Continent. Then I could devour it whole. Heh."

That was when it happened.

After the end credits finished and the black screen lingered, a new message appeared.

"What the hell? Hidden stage? Sequel maybe?"

He didn't know what it meant, but his stopped heart seemed to beat again.

If he could relive that thrill from playing Heroes Destiny, he'd pay any price.

His heart raced with anticipation, hands shaking wildly. He forced his trembling hand to click Yes.

In that instant, he lost consciousness.

"Gah!"

He snapped awake to pain like his chest was being seared by fire.

"Cough! Gack! Hack!"

Harsh coughs wrung his lungs, making breathing agony.

Once the coughing eased, he took in the unfamiliar surroundings.

Thick antique wooden furniture, longsword and shield on the wall, stuffed deer head, fireplace.

Like an old European noble family's villa.

He felt disoriented.

Where am I?

Someone nearby spoke.

"You're awake. Thank the heavens. Without the top-grade potion in reserve, you might not have seen this sunrise."

An elderly man in medieval-style breastplate. His neatly combed-back hair gave a stern impression.

Only then noticing the old man, he asked.

"Wh...o are... you?"

The old man tilted his head at the reaction, as if they were strangers.

"Hmm, the healer didn't mention memory damage... You truly don't recognize me? I'm Russell."

The old man introducing himself as Russell maintained a polite demeanor throughout.

If not for one burning question filling his mind, he'd have dismissed it as a play or hidden camera.

What? I meant to ask in Korean, but different words came out? And how do I understand this unfamiliar foreign tongue?

The onslaught of incomprehensibles left his mind blank.

"Young Master Calix?"

Russell called out, sensing something off. Burning pain engulfed his chest.

"Grrgh!"

The old man bowed slightly as he trembled, unable to twitch a finger.

"My apologies. I spoke too hastily. No need for great worry—it's the potion reviving deadened senses."

Despite the explanation, he remained curled and shaking.

"Hmm... Full recovery will take time, it seems. I'll return in the morning, Young Master."

Russell placed fist to chest in formal salute and left the room.

Only after dozens of minutes did he escape the pain. Drenched in cold sweat, he dragged himself to the mirror.

Figures. My body felt off.

In the mirror stared a handsome boy with natural golden hair to his shoulders and emerald eyes.

Frail constitution—hollow eyes, body gaunt to pity.

Curious, he poked and prodded the unfamiliar flesh now his own. Then it hit him.

"My name... I can't recall it."

He remembered his 30-odd years fine, but not his name.

"Who are you?"

Curiosity about this face's 'info' sparked, and text appeared in midair as if answering.

"This...!"

The format was intimately familiar.

Identical to the status screen from Heroes Destiny, the game he'd immersed in for over ten years.

"That 'transfer?' question was literal? For real? Insane!"

The boy—now to be called Calix Szczecin—steadied his wobbling body.

"Hoo, haa! Haa!"

After deep breaths, his racing heart slowed.

"This is really the main stage of Heroes Destiny, the Eren Continent?"

Touching the red mark on his chest brought searing pain like hot pokers.

"Hurts like hell and won't break—guess it's not a dream."

Muttering, he slumped back on the bed and sorted his thoughts.

Doubts lingered, sure.

About a year after starting the test build.

No contact, no release—he figured development canned, so he tried posting screenshots online.

Always failed with unknown errors.

Even copying to USB for others errored out; he gave up.

"Things felt off since then."

Game world, dream, or distant planet? Unknown.

But one thing was clear.

"Pain this vivid? Easier to call it 'reality.' And if this is truly the Eren Continent... barely enough time to scheme survival."

Calix shelved the hypotheses flooding his mind. No time for unsolvable worries in this state.

Game world or source reality, any link meant no leisure for philosophy.

"First, get used to 'Calix Szczecin.' I am Calix Szczecin. Calix Szczecin!"

He repeated his name aloud, listening to adapt quickly.

Struggling to acclimate to this alien world.

"Huh? Feels... familiar somehow?"

Maybe ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠because his old name was gone. Adapting to the new was easier than expected.

Perhaps whoever sent him here erased memories to aid quick adjustment.

"Hoo, priority one: gather intel."

Calix reviewed his status again.

No one to ask, no time for books.

"Calix Szczecin of Szczecin County..."

Same name as the territory. Direct heir to a count's house—high nobility.

Lucky break.

Serf's brat or slum rat? He'd last days at best, with zero inherited survival memories.

Then—

Knock knock!

About to dig deeper into the status, someone rapped the door.

Anxiety surged.

No memories from this body's prior owner. Soul swap could get exposed.

He started image training for noble poise.

I am Calix Szczecin. Direct line of House Szczecin. I am a noble.

No clue on the original's personality. Better than seeming green.

"What is it?"

"Time for your medicine, Young Master."

A woman's voice, deferential.

Maid?

Calix mustered his sternest tone.

"Bring it in."