The World Is Not Equal
For those working the production lines at small-to-medium enterprises in Murim, gaming was basic literacy. Of course, some people refused to even call it a game. They meant that phone apps consisting of nothing but auto-hunting, cash transactions, and gacha pulls couldn’t possibly qualify. Yet for production workers at SMEs, these so-called games held value far beyond mere entertainment. Weren’t they the admirable genre that let you spec up solidly inside your locker even while on the job? Your salary might not rise, but your level did, and that was fun. Above all, gaming chatter made up over seventy percent of conversations between coworkers, so it was less a hobby and more like modern social life. Still, when it came to PC or console games, they remained a somewhat distant pastime for production workers. Their mainstream hobbies were alcohol (with snacks), alcohol (company dinners), alcohol (with women), or maybe fishing. In that sense, his hobby of gaming was quite rare.
He was a rather diligent gamer. SME production work usually ran on two shifts, with short cycles alternating between day and night, granting two-nights-two-days or one-night-two-days of rest. He would sleep like the dead first, then sit in front of the monitor, sipping cold beer from an insulated tumbler and burning through his precious time off. He didn’t discriminate much when it came to games. He had enjoyed life as a lawless gunslinger roaming the western frontier, and as a superhuman commander who destroyed several Earths while repelling alien invasions before ultimately saving one. Being the patricidal son of a god who killed deities was fun too. But most of those experiences involved playing as some medieval-ish Western warrior or wizard.
Then someone left a comment on his forum post asking for game recommendations.
Murim, huh. The only Murim he knew came from a few Stephen Chow movies. Like Shaolin Soccer. Wasn’t that Buddha’s Palm thing from Kung Fu Hustle? The moment he recalled it, curiosity stirred.
Without hesitation, he bought the game. A single production worker living alone usually had a fairly fat wallet, so there was no reason to hesitate. While it downloaded, he searched for information about the game. Made in China (unofficial Korean patch 99.6%), an open-world RPG with high freedom. The very fact that a user-made Korean patch existed was already a guarantee of some level of fun. Who would bother translating a boring game? You could roam freely, farming and growing at your own pace. Once you reached a certain fame threshold, one of three major random events would trigger: early-game crisis, mid-game crisis, or late-game crisis. If you overcame it, you could see the ending. You could continue playing afterward, or start a new cycle with your descendant. It offered multiple endings depending on your choices.
He hadn’t known about this unfamiliar wuxia game, but a search showed it had quite a bit of recognition. He was the type who preferred the exhilarating “strong character” munchkin playstyle of sweeping away enemies rather than struggling through difficult challenges. Instead of pioneering new routes, he liked following the strongest proven builds and enjoying the game easily.
He browsed character creation and build recommendation threads, pondering how to raise his character. A satisfied smile spread across his face at the growing anticipation that this was going to be fun.
The installation soon finished. He overlaid the Korean patch files. And then, the long-awaited game start.
Thanks to the guides he had just read, he quickly moved through character creation. Difficulty: Romantic Wanderer (Easy). Since it supported new game plus, he could raise the difficulty on the second run if it was fun.
Constitution: Corpse-Blood Poison Person, which made gameplay comfortable. Fate: Heavenly Killing Lone Star, said to be the most powerful. And gender, without any hesitation, female. He held the firm belief that in any game allowing female characters, you absolutely had to pick a female avatar.
Unfortunately, full customization wasn’t supported. With no choice, he selected the large-breasted illustration from the preset appearances. Might as well enjoy a nice figure at least inside the game. When he took a break to smoke and drink beer, spinning the camera to admire the female character’s form paired with her generous chest was one of his small pleasures. It was also one of the privileges of being a single man.
Then, in the character name field, Ctrl+V.
Aqing
The pre-copied Chinese characters were entered. He had no idea why anyone would be named something like “Aqing,” but that was what the recommendation post said. Entering it this way supposedly let you start with the true version of one of the game’s most broken martial arts, the Wolnyeo Sword Art.
Character creation was now complete. Before pressing the “Enter Murim” button, he pulled up a strategy guide on his smartphone that detailed a route of rushing to farm before the early story even began. In an open-world game, wasn’t it common sense to sprint out the gate, farm like crazy, and only then start playing properly?
However, in the end, that preparation turned out to be completely useless.
The moment he pressed the “Enter Murim” button—
He found himself standing inside a chilly cave. Along with a sudden heavy weight pulling on his upper body.