I Become a Mafia in the Academy 1

[City of Seoul] The very first thought that hit me the moment I started playing this game was simple: this thing is insane.

Graphics so detailed you couldn't tell it from reality unless you looked really close. Insane freedom to do absolutely anything. Sure, that freedom came with some garbage elements, but damn if they didn't make you even crazier.

I'd been playing [City of Seoul], or CS for short, for a good long while myself. Nearly five years, and I quit it cold turkey for this game. That says it all.

As usual, the game kicked off with flashy effects. One defining feature of this game? If your character dies, it's gone for good. No respawns. That meant endless trial and error, forcing you to play every round with extreme caution. Even then, survival wasn't easy.

Average survival time: 30 days. And yet, hordes of maniacs kept playing. Gotta hand it to the devs—this game was something else.

‘Saber Crowd’

A middle-aged character in the character window, revolver in hand, cigar clenched in his teeth. Among the countless characters I'd created and deleted, this was the one who'd survived the longest. My pride and joy.

“Man, the early days were rough.”

Back when I knew nothing, I tried playing as a villain and got obliterated by some NIS agents. Tried the hero academy route for some school life vibes, only to get bullied into quitting. Even became the Hero Association Chairman—one of the game's top positions—and got assassinated on day one.

Every time, I wanted to smash my PC, but thoughts of my bank balance kept me in check. Not just once or twice, either.

But in a game where even hardcore vets came and went, staying in the top ranks? That alone gave an insane sense of accomplishment. No way I was quitting.

“Hoo… Today, I see this through.”

What I was gunning for? World Ranking #1.

The game was fundamentally single-player, so rankings were based on achievements and completion rates. Only one guy above me.

This bastard was edging me out by a single achievement. In a game where even 3rd place topped out at 74%, our completion rates were both at 99.8%. But he'd hit it first, so I was stuck at 2nd.

And wouldn't you know it—the last achievement left for both of us was this one.

A hidden achievement. No hints on how to unlock it. If even #1 imDOG couldn't crack it, it had to be beyond imagination.

Today, I swore I'd do whatever it took to claim that 0.2%.

Logging in, another hyper-realistic world unfolded on my monitor. I'd tried hundreds, thousands of things for this damn achievement.

Become a hero adored by all. Turn a city into a ghost town. Conquer the police station naked. Assassinate the president with a cotton swab. A parade of madness.

But today's attempt? I had a lead.

A message from yesterday. From the #1 guy himself.

I asked if he knew how. He sent back what felt like a troll reply.

“What the hell kinda nonsense is this?”

Flustered, I fired back.

Chat ended there. So yeah, I logged in like the guy said.

The moment ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I did, fireworks exploded with fanfare, and a message popped up.

“An achievement only one person can get?”

That explained the info blackout. And it meant one thing: #1 tried and failed.

Crack this, and I'd snatch the top spot.

“A man's gotta eat his pride!” I slammed Y without hesitation.

And then… I blacked out.

An ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠empty room, no one around. The lit monitor blared an incoming message alert.

Then, all messages started vanishing.

“Nngh?”

First thought in the haze: Why's the ceiling so unfamiliar?

A cliché novel trope, so I chuckled and sat up.

“Fell asleep gaming, huh?”

Rubbing sleepy eyes, stretching, scanning the room—then it hit me. Something was off.

“...Where the hell am I?”

Definitely not my room. The bed was plush beyond compare, wallpaper luxurious. And the size—three times my old studio apartment.

Knock knock knock.

“Are you awake, young master?”

A gravelly voice from outside. Still clueless, I stayed silent.

“I swear I heard something…”

Footsteps faded away.

“What the actual fuck is going on?”

First thing I spotted: a computer in the corner. I bolted over and powered it up.

An ornate desktop with three folders and a recycle bin.

[City of Seoul] [Jikbakguri] [Game Collection]

Jikbakguri caught my eye, but [City of Seoul] screamed relevance. Click.

Inside: the familiar game icon and a notepad file labeled [MUST READ!]

I clicked it, mesmerized.

“Those crazy bastards…!”

As I cursed, CS auto-launched on the PC.

A character window popped up. A stranger stood there.

“What the—?”

Eugene? Eugene Han Calione?

Suddenly, my face reflected in the black screen. Unbelievable. I rushed to the mirror for a closer look.

Reality sank in.

“Ha, haha… That's me? No way… That's him.”

The face matched the character on the PC perfectly. I'd never made this character, though.

Of course not.

“We're totally screwed.”

Eugene Han Calione. I was inside the body of this character.

Figuring things out wasn't hard. Launching the game as the character brought up tutorials and UIs.

Learned how to check my status, this body's background, and link UIs to portable devices.

“...Never imagined my nick DarkLord of Underworld would get interpreted as ‘Dark Curtain of the Underworld.’”

Luckily, I knew this Eugene Han Calione character well. How could I not?

He was the third-rate antagonist NPC who always picked fights with player characters. The guy who bullied players relying on his dad and organization.

I'd killed him in a rage once, only to get swarmed and slaughtered by his mafia goons. My third playthrough. I'd screamed about what a trash game it was.

But now? Different story.

“This might actually work out pretty well.”

He shows up post-newbie phase to teach players true despair. His dad, Don Vito Calione, was one of the game's most broken NPCs. Took me dozens of tries, memorizing patterns, to beat him while playing mafia-style. The guy was a monster.

That monster's my dad now. I'm his protected heir, backed by the full organization.

In a world where personal power plus backing equals strength and influence, this was huge. Top-tier start.

Except for one issue.

“Thing is, he's got the backing but acts like total garbage…”

On the academy route, you run into Eugene a lot. Total trash character. Hero traits emerge from danger and self-improvement, but he'd lived cushy—no traits.

Most players turned villain for power, only to die to dad, heroes, or me.

“Future looks bleak, for real.”

Sighing on the bed, a knock came.

“Young master, one hour until the academy entrance exam.”

The gravelly voice from earlier.

I was Eugene Han Calione now, so time to act natural.

“Let's go.”

“Yes, young master.”

Eugene was a rude prick, from what I remembered. Act rude, no suspicions.

Never imagined day one would be academy exam day, though. Canonically ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the standard start, sure.

Problem: I'd only done the academy route like… 23 times?

Quick shower in the attached bathroom first. Wow, rich folks get showers per room with fancy shampoo and body wash? Smells amazing.

Toweled off my hair roughly, headed out. Delicious smells wafted from downstairs.

Followed them down the stairs to a grand dining room.

And then.

“You're late.”

The man at the head table spoke. The fresh morning air turned heavy instantly.

Tick tock, tick tock.

The grandfather clock's chime boomed. Crushing pressure bore down, shoulders slumping involuntarily. Felt like I had to bow any second.

Terror I'd never known gripped me.

Forcing my head up, I faced the lone waiter.

Black fedora, cigar in mouth, bushy beard. The underworld kingpin everyone feared.

Don Vito Calione. My father now.

“Sorry, Father.”

Sitting down, he widened his eyes in surprise.

“Polite speech and ‘Father’? Didn't see that coming. Academy exam day got you acting grown-up?”

No way this punk was rude even to the mafia don dad?

Never dreamed a monster like him could look shocked from one apology.

“I'm basically an adult now. Time to change, right?”

“Hahaha! Glad you're thinking that way at last. Though hearing ‘Father’ for the first time feels a bit cold—kinda hurts.”

His bittersweet smile got an awkward grin from me.

“...You'll get used to it soon enough.”

“Heh, yeah. Probably. Everyone else ate already. Eat quick and go.”

He stubbed out his half-smoked cigar and rose.

Left alone in the vast dining room, I sighed at the still-unfamiliar opulence.

Could I really adapt to mafia family life?