Chapter 83
Chapter 83
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 82
Chapter Title: The Reality of Revenge
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Before crossing over to Ardenia, back in my Korean days when I played all sorts of games.
Even after playing that many games, I had never touched Revenge.
'Looking back now, it's a shame. If I had played it, I might have felt a sense of familiarity much earlier in Ardenia.'
The reason I never played Revenge wasn't because it was some obscure, unknown game. To be precise, it was so infamous that I avoided it on purpose.
My impression of Revenge was this.
'A trash pay-to-win game.'
That wasn't just my opinion—plenty of other people rated it the same way.
A game that doesn't function properly as a game without insane levels of spending to back it up.
'Well, you can enjoy it to some extent even without money.'
Sure, it's not impossible. You could hunt monsters, gear up, and chip away at the main quests in a casual way. Revenge's graphics and user-friendliness were top-tier among all games, so a free-to-play experience was doable if you tried.
But Revenge is a massive war game.
When wars break out and you're forced to join—or get swept up in one that erupts out of nowhere in the field—that's when players realize something's wrong.
A single skill shot, one swing of a blade, and you're swept away like leaves in the wind.
Not by enemies or monsters.
By other players.
'If you jump into a game meant for fun without money, you end up at the bottom of the pile.'
In the end, Revenge is structured to become a playground for the rich—the heavy spenders. No matter if you play twenty hours a day for years, without cash, it's hard to acquire legendary gear or classes. A game like that.
You could call it realistic in a way...
'But people don't usually want that kind of realism in games.'
Revenge shines as the number-one game in sales, but it carries a dark shadow: its concurrent player count is abysmal compared to those earnings. Despite raking in the most money of any game, no one praised Revenge as a [God Game].
That was probably why.
[Dondekman Soft signs tech deal with Legion]
[Ilseong signs tech deal with Legion]
[Sky Soft opens new virtual era with Legion...]
The massive attention poured into Revenge due to the Second Life project crumbled the instant alternatives appeared. If Revenge was the only game offering perfect virtual reality, it might've been different—but it wasn't, so there was no reason to choose it.
"Well, Nemesis stock wasn't normal anyway. It was full of bubbles."
It wasn't some undervalued mid-sized company; Nemesis already boasted major-corp stock prices. The fact that it spiked over tenfold in such a short time was the abnormality.
"Then... this is my chance."
I'm not trading stocks to make money, so a dip doesn't hurt my heart. I sold off my holdings because I needed cash right away, but in the end, wasn't this a situation where I had to buy and hold?
"Yeah. If it's gonna drop, drop even more."
Nemesis wouldn't delist, after all.
Nemesis – 8,875,000 KRW (-3,052,000 KRW)↓
I checked my stocks now and then. I thought I was smoking decently while keeping an eye on them, but Allen saw it differently.
"Jaeyeon! Focus! Focus! You've been doing great until now—why's your mind wandering off to the bean field all of a sudden? Playing the stock market or something?"
Wow. This guy's a ghost.
"Sorry."
I shook off the distractions and focused on acting.
'Yeah. I'll stop worrying about it myself.'
I set up my stock app to auto-buy in bulk if they hit a certain low and decided not to check.
My benchmark was Nemesis Soft's price before announcing the Second Life project: 1.5 million KRW.
"Okay, okay. Jaeyeon is the crown prince of a fallen empire. That's why he has an innate authority, per the setup."
I lost my composure at his words. A crown prince with an innate authority? That sounded like something from the Leonhardt Empire, a cosmic-scale power.
"No way—some native from a low civilization having an innate authority? That's not a thing."
"Hm? Jaeyeon, you know a lot about that stuff?"
The actors and staff turned to me at Sungjae's comment. I had a moment of uh-oh but shook my head.
'Anyway, once the movie's out, my background becomes public domain.'
Hiding it when I hadn't done anything wrong would be ridiculous.
"If you must know... I'm from royalty myself."
"Royalty. Ooh..."
"So cool..."
"What's cool about it? I was born on the 34th Earth—I never even saw a kingdom."
Just as the 34th Earth faced apocalypse after encountering the End Project, the civilization where I grew up—my father and grandfather's homeland—faced its own end.
Cosmic monsters. Grotesque.
With the machine legion Legion turning neutral and space pirates Basara halved, the Grotesque—the Union's sole remaining archenemy—were in a whole different situation from the other two.
They'd grown far more formidable after the Great War.
The Grotesque's fundamental power is infection.
No one knows what they infected, but the resulting authorities are monstrous, letting them boast forces beyond even an empire.
'They're controlling territory beyond galactic scale, so yeah, they're past empire level.'
The 34th Earth, having survived its apocalypse, had risen as the strongest single faction even in the greater cosmos.
But my father and grandfather's 98th Earth was different.
They had no Game Master like Gwandaeha, no heroes.
It just perished.
"Oh, well. If that's your background, even better. Easier to immerse."
"Royalty, huh."
"So that's where the power comes from..."
I rubbed my forehead at the deepening misunderstanding.
'No, you idiots. Bullshit, I don't have any.'
It was baseless fantasy. If there really were hidden powers, authorities, or mystical forces, why couldn't emigrants from the 34th Earth make a dent?
It was like modern Westerners in a non-powered era marveling at natives' shamanism or Eastern martial arts.
If those were truly great, they wouldn't have lost their lands to invaders or wars.
Maybe it's some kind of romanticism.
In the end, I played the character Allen wanted.
At first, a space pirate with immense power who commits crimes.
When fate tangles him with the protagonists, he inexplicably saves them.
He seems cold and aloof, but has a painful past... a villain type.
'And his true identity is the crown prince of a fallen empire. Ha.'
After the scene, reality hit me, and I sighed.
'Is this guy nuts, Allen? This isn't even a romance—why add a love triangle? Sungjae was clearly the lead, right?'
It was absurd, but what could an actor say when the director insisted?
I sat and monitored the next scene.
[Just layer the spells. The Atari have six fingers. Let's see, Al. Roya. Partisan... Got it. Investigate Partisan ships entering the Fern Nebula. Nah, no need. Lately, only passenger ships come, and they have at least three layers standard. This has to be a patrol combat vessel.]
[Young master. You are...]
[The word 'genius' is tiresome—skip it.]
[...Annoying.]
I watched Sungjae and Scarlett act. Sungjae was a veteran needing no introduction, and Scarlett nailed the snappy role.
As I watched, the camera cut to Scarlett's solo shot.
"I've confirmed it. This shadow."
That's when it happened.
Beee...
Sungjae, opposite Scarlett, pulled a ridiculous face like a sneak attack—from off-camera.
"I'll go check it out."
Undeterred by the sabotage, Scarlett finished her line perfectly and glared at Sungjae after "Cut!"
Dead serious.
Ultra-serious.
"Senior... are you trying to ruin my acting career?"
"Huh! No. You seemed too tense, so I was joking to loosen you up..."
"Ah, so this role is a joke to you? Yeah, to Sungjae senior, this minor part is just a gag. But to me, it's a once-in-a-lifetime shot."
"Sorry, sorry... I won't do it again!"
Only after Sungjae groveled did Scarlett soften.
"Good work!"
"Good work today!"
After wrapping the day's shoot, we ate. Sungjae, eating with me, spoke up.
"You saw me get chewed out, right?"
I laughed at his words.
"Your eyes were blazing."
"Sigh. I was just trying to lighten the mood, but it doesn't land on someone burning with ambition."
"Doesn't it usually?"
"Yeah. Look around."
Sure enough, our table—Sungjae and me facing each other—was surrounded by staff, actors, and writers.
All women, naturally.
"What're you looking at?"
"They're all smiling."
Now that he mentioned it, they really were. Sungjae asked one.
"Youngmi. Youngmi, do you know why you're smiling right now?"
"Huh? Me? Why am I smiling?"
The startled staff's question got a whisper from Sungjae as he leaned in.
"Because I'm next to you."
"Eek---♥"
"Oh my!"
"Eek! So good..."
Laughter erupted around the restaurant, like they'd heard a genius comedian.
"......"
I, of course, didn't laugh. Instead, I went dead serious.
Ultra-serious.
"Sorry..."
"Rein it in."
"Yes, sir."
I chuckled at his nod. Say what you will—he's a bright guy. In the hectic set, everyone lit up seeing him.
After some chit-chat, Sungjae said,
"Oh, right! I handled your guild invite. Guild master's our agency rep, and most members are industry folks."
"So, coworkers?"
"Yeah. No boot camp vibe like other guilds—I told them, so just hang loose. Greet when you log in... Oh! Guild raid every Friday 8 PM! Rewards are solid—join if you can."
"Ah, thanks."
"Haha, no biggie! I'm off to rest!"
We said goodbye and headed to our rooms. Single-occupancy suites.
Back in my room, I tidied Killian's inventory, then checked stocks and accounts.
Nemesis – 5,275,000 KRW (-1,052,000 KRW)↓
"Wow. Still dropping."
A terrifying pace straight toward 1.5 million. But another thought crept in.
"It's slowing down... Maybe it won't hit 1.5 mil?"
Even with alternatives, nothing was wrong with Revenge itself.
'Right—the first perfect VR, and it crumbles like this? Nah. Fan sites say players hearing rumors tried it and trashed it hard after tasting the spice.'
My mind flipped back and forth. I finally closed the stock app.
And opened my novel app instead.
"Hoo. Ditch the distractions—time to make money!"
I'd just finished a new novel yesterday. But honestly... it barely qualified as a novel.
⤷FriedPotato: Dude, are you insane? This ain't right? It's a setting bible? You wrote a whole book of settings?
⤷010***: What's the point...? Who're you writing this for?
⤷Noah: This author's a group, right? Styles all different. But seriously, who's sponsoring and why?
⤷FriedPotato: This writer used to aim for mass appeal, but after weird sponsors, now posting total crap.
Views were dismal—less than a day since posting 1-33.
'No, it'd suck even after weeks.'
But I wasn't after views.
And the response came.
[Wow! Galaxy sponsored 800,000 Dragon Stones!]
"It's here!"
An 80-million-KRW sponsor! For just 33 chapters!
I finally realized.
"These guys aren't sponsoring for the story's fun!"
The suspiciously huge sums varied wildly per work, but after trials, I cracked the code.
"Real-life basis gets bonus points. And effort put into creation gets more!"
My 33-chapter post was filed under novels but wasn't one.
Title: [Magibeast Codex].
'No symbolic tale—just a straight-up magibeast codex, that's the trap.'
Habits, weaknesses, traits of magibeasts.
Info gathered at life-risk by countless knights, mages, hunters—copied verbatim into serialization.
"Alright, this could work."
Truth was, I was out of stuff to copy. Ardenia wasn't big on literature, and in monster-plagued chaos, few escaped with books.
Now that the magibeast codex hit...
Time for the forbidden technique.
"Alright. Rake in the cash and buy all the stocks!"
With a grunt, I began transcribing.
The cursed masterpiece that nearly ended the Ming Dynasty.
The [Encyclopedia].