What Happened?
In an instant, the world flipped upside down, drowned in gray. What the hell happened? My ears rang. My forehead burned hot, and the world turned colorless. As I struggled to make sense of it, a system window popped up right in front of my dazed eyes.
You have died.
…What?
The game is forcibly terminated. You will respawn in the nearest village.
Ah, got it. So I died. Game over. My first death in this fantasy world.
Instead of feeling sad or regretful, I was almost glad. I'd faced so many moments where death could've come knocking, but I'd overcome them all—and now, finally, it happened at the hands of the Rank 1 player. Not a bad way to go, right?
…Though it sucks I didn't find any trace of Sulis.
Come to think of it, I couldn't move my head, not even a finger. The gray-tinted view seemed frozen in place, refusing to budge.
"…"
Hmm. Looks like the world I'm seeing is the final view captured by the retinas of my body—pierced through the forehead, collapsed, calmly accepting death and crumbling to ash.
Can't turn my head, so the perspective stays locked.
Beyond the system window, in that ash-gray world, four people were locked in fierce combat. Or more precisely, three ganging up on one. A good ol' beatdown—the strategic tactic I'd pulled plenty of times with Gold Sun and Tteoksoon-i.
But the difference? The guy taking the gang-up didn't look disadvantaged at all. If anything, he wore a relaxed smile.
I stared at the translucent weapons orbiting him and nodded. Well, imagined nodding. Yeah, that tracks. He was Cheon-gong, Rank 1 above all others.
The gang-up crew looked way more desperate, their faces twisted in grim determination as they charged.
"You bastard! What the hell do you think you're doing?!"
"How dare you touch Hura!"
Beda's greatsword slammed down, shaking heaven and earth, carving a deep gorge in the ground. Baek Bal Baek Jung leaped high, firing arrows like some kind of trick shot that tore through space itself.
But the scariest was Geriseora—my sister—her face demonic.
"Raaagh!"
"…?!"
My sister's face was pure rage-fiend. "Aaaargh!"
Howling like a beast, she unloaded every weapon in her arsenal on Cheon-gong. A blue haze roared behind her like it could burn everything to cinders.
Portals ripped open, missiles pouring out toward him. Tiny robots chased him, blasting lasers. Brilliant blue explosions lit the sky.
Boom! Boomboomboom! KABOOM!
The heavens crumbled, the earth flipped—a scene that defied all logic.
You can log back in 24 hours from now.
That insane scene faded as I was booted out of the world with the system window.
Shwoooosh—
Thud.
I took off the Dream Gear and sat up in a daze. "…What the hell was that?"
I blinked. The brilliant explosions still flickered in my vision.
I touched my forehead where the arrow had pierced, clenched my fist, cracked my neck side to side, then stood up. "…Gotta get some water."
My mouth was dry. I grabbed a water jug and cup from the kitchen, plopped down on the chair by the bed, and chugged. My eyes drifted to my sister, still lying there in her Dream Gear, twitching faintly.
Dream Gear lives up to its name—it's tech that hijacks lucid dreams. It interferes with your REM sleep. During use, your muscles paralyze, like sleep paralysis. Your body locks up to keep dream actions from twitching real muscles—a natural safeguard. Dream Gear exploits that.
But she was still twitching? The fight must've been that intense.
One cup didn't cut it, so I poured another. That's when I spotted something glinting by my sister's eyes under the Dream Gear.
"…Huh?"
Up close, it was tears. Overflowing from under the gear.
"Wait, tears?"
Then her twitching stopped.
"…?"
Suddenly, she bolted upright and yanked off the Dream Gear. I nearly dropped my cup in shock.
"Wh-what?!"
Her teary eyes locked on me. Tears streamed down. "Hura!"
She threw her arms around me. "What the—?!"
"Hura! My little brother! Waaah—!"
"Why are you—?!"
She crashed into me like a tidal wave, wrapping around my neck like an octopus.
"H-hey! What gives?!"
"Waaah—!"
"…?!"
That unfamiliar wail in my ear froze my hands midway through prying her off.
"…Sis is crying?"
"Waaah—!"
She clung and sobbed. I'd never seen her cry—not since we were kids. I was stunned.
"Why… why are you crying?"
"Waaah—I really thought you died for real!"
"…What?"
My head went blank for a second. Come to think of it, back in that gray world, she'd been furious.
"I-it's just a game!"
"It felt too real! Waaah—!"
…Was my sister always this emotional? No. Absolutely not.
Kid me once drew a scene from The Little Prince that moved me and showed her.
"Sis! What do you think this is?"
"…An activation energy graph?"
"What? No! It's a boa constrictor that swallowed an elephant."
"Hmm… okay. So how do you prove it?"
"…Huh?"
"By your logic, it could be a boa that swallowed a nuclear reactor. Can't argue without cutting open the belly. Wanna draw a diagram?"
"…"
Another time, Christmas, I wrote Grandpa and Grandma a letter. Mom praised me.
"Thanks to our Hura, they'll have a warm Christmas."
"Really?"
Sis chimed in: "Paper has low thermal conductivity. Not warm."
"…"
She was pure STEM brain. No wonder she went into engineering.
"Waaah—!"
"…Stop. C'mon, stop."
"Waaah—!"
"Your one and only brother's right here, fine as can be~ The one with the mangled forehead was just game-Hura~"
"Waaah!"
"Uh, not helping?"
Maybe too deep in the VR? I held my regressed-to-childhood sister until she finally calmed.
"Better now?"
Sniff… "Yeah."
Seeing her like this—usually so cool and adult-like—was refreshing.
"So what happened? Did you get Cheon-gong?"
"…"
"No?"
Nod.
"Then?"
"…"
"You die and force-log too?"
"No!" She snapped.
"Then what?"
"…Draw."
"Draw?"
"…Let him go."
Three top-10 high rankers gang up and it's a draw?
"Ugh, fighting together was annoying—bad synergy."
"So solo you could've won?"
"…"
She hung her head, muttering darkly. "…That dog hid his real strength."
"What?"
"Nothing. That mutt Cheon-gong. Fix up Ptah's robots and he's toast."
She jerked her head up, fist trembling. "I'll kill him. Definitely!"
Grrrowl—
Her vow was interrupted by a rumble from her stomach.
"…"
"…"
"Wanna eat something tasty?"
…Nod.
Next morning, I stood in front of the snack bar where I'd start working. Checked my phone: 9:27 a.m. Aiming early for day one, I arrived 33 minutes ahead.
The place was a 20-minute walk along the main road. The cozy kind you see in school alleys everywhere.
I looked up at the slightly weathered sign.
Dahyun's Snacks
"…? Dahyun?"
…No way it's that Dahyun. Common name.
I pushed open the door. "H-hello!"
Not too big, not too small. A bit worn but homey. Spotless—no dust anywhere.
"Come on in~!"
A lady in her mid-to-late 30s, looking young, emerged from the kitchen. "What can I get ya?"
"Uh, not that. I'm the new cook starting today…!"
"Oh! You must be him! Come in, come in! Sit here."
"Sure."
She beamed, led me to a seat, poured cool water, and smiled warmly. "My, you're a looker! No one mentioned how handsome."
"Haha, and I never heard the boss was such a beauty from Dahyun."
"Oh my~ Ho ho ho. Quite the charmer."
"Haha, too kind."
In game, it'd be Ding! Flattery skill activated! But this was genuine—she was beautiful. Lush hair, big eyes, porcelain skin, elegant aura. Faint laugh lines from time only enhanced her gentle vibe. No heavy makeup, but her simple charm shone.
I introduced myself. "Hello! I'm Yi Hura!"
She covered her mouth, chuckling. "Ho ho, hi~ I'm Son Da-eun~ Nice to meet you. Looking forward to working together."
"Yes! I'll do my best!"
Her service-industry lilt felt like a warm mom's hug, not fake. True vet of the food biz. Much to learn.
I smiled contentedly. "You're early~?" She glanced at the clock.
"Yeah, I've never been late in my life. Haha."
"Oh my~ So diligent~"
"Yi Hura without diligence is just a corpse."
Smooth self-promo to win her over. Heh heh heh. Make her irreplaceable without me!
"Ho ho, so Dahyun said your tteokbokki is killer?"
But skill's king. Rest is bonus. I grinned confidently. "No need to ask twice."
"Ahaha! That's the youthful spirit!"
"Yi Hura without spirit is a corpse."
Seemed to land well.
"Ho ho, great. Tteokbokki sells most, takes the most work. Wanna give it a shot?"
"Yes!"
"This way."
She led me to a corner by the kitchen. Big window to the street, full of familiar cookware—like the cup tteokbokki stands from my childhood.
"This is your station."
"Call me Hura, boss."
"Oh, can I?"
"Yeah. Casual's fine."
"Nah, can't."
"Huh?"
"Too casual and I might boomerang or boss around without meaning to. No thanks."
…Found my forever job.
She smiled. "Then Hura-ssi it is. Okay?"
"Perfect, boss."
Hands on hips, she said, "Alright, show me what you got?"