The Perfect Corporate Dog
To obtain a Player License, one had to pass a written exam, a practical test, and an interview.
The evaluation focused on three key areas: Computation Grade, combat capability, and the Aptitude Test.
The importance of the Computation Grade went without saying, and combat capability was also essential. To survive and return from the Internet, a baseline level of combat prowess—or at least the ability to run away—was required.
However, these two criteria were merely the preliminaries. The real hurdle lay elsewhere: the Aptitude Test.
The personality portion of the test assessed whether, in the face of various crises, a candidate would prioritize the corporation of Maetan over their own self-interest. It measured whether they could make the "optimal choice" in a pinch to avoid causing harm to Maetan.
The aptitude portion evaluated whether they could blend in naturally with the residents of the Internet without drawing the attention of the rogue AIs.
Treat the residents of the Internet as if they are human, but never forget that they are merely constructs of a virtual world.
The test verified if a person was capable of maintaining that delicate balance. And now, the results of my Aptitude Test were out.
"Th-this is insane..."
"It makes no sense."
In an IntraMaetan interview room, the interviewers seated around me stared at the document in front of them with trembling eyes. They looked back and forth between me and the paperwork, checking to see if their eyes were playing tricks on them.
"A perfect score... on the Aptitude Test?"
"It's like he barely has an ego."
"This is... the ultimate corporate dog."
A perfect 100 out of 100. It was a score unprecedented in Maetan's history.
The evaluation document read as follows:
The subject prioritizes organizational directives and order above all else, aligning personal actions with the goals and judgments of the collective rather than the individual. A superior's command serves as the absolute standard of behavior, and the subject holds a core belief in executing orders without question or resistance.
Even in critical situations, the subject is prepared to act for the organization without hesitation, demonstrating a willingness to accept self-sacrifice if necessary. The subject does not separate self from the corporation, immersing themselves in missions as an integrated extension of Maetan.
In other words, I was the perfect asset—someone who would gladly die for the company.
The interviewers questioned me.
"Did you answer these questions seriously?"
"Chief, manipulation is impossible," one of the assistants whispered. "The questionnaire is designed with multiple layers of psychological traps specifically to weed out those trying to give politically correct answers."
"Then... this is genuine?"
While the interviewers maintained their suspicious glares, I answered calmly, "Obedience to superiors is the fundamental duty of anyone belonging to an organization."
"Pass! You pass!" The Chief of Human Resources cried out, tears welling in his eyes.
Even I was shocked by your evaluation, Mister. How can a person be so blindly obedient?
"I only answered the way I was taught," I replied.
Just what kind of environment did you grow up in to learn that?
By the age of ten, I was already in the military, undergoing cybernetic reconstruction. During my recovery period, various soldiers took turns giving us lectures. I had simply regurgitated what I learned back then.
So this is the monster the military created...
I stared at the small plastic card held in my goblin avatar's hand.
• Name: Yoon Juhyuk
• Employee ID: DR0145
• Player Rank: D-Grade
"So this is a Player License."
Thanks to CC handling the processing on my behalf, my Computation Grade had risen by one level.
CC had claimed she could easily push it to S-grade, but a jump from E-grade to S-grade was completely unprecedented. I could already picture a future where I was dragged off to a lab, quarantined, and had my brain dissected.
I brought up the IntraMaetan console.
The Monolith Gate Room had been added to my list of accessible locations.
When I selected it, my vision went dark, and the transmission began.
A massive, mirror-smooth black hexahedron.
The Monolith Gate, the sole gateway to the Internet, loomed before me.
A guard watching over the gate approached me.
"A goblin? Are you a Player...?"
I showed him my Player License.
"D-grade? Is this your first dive?"
"Yes."
Returning the license, the guard sized me up. He spoke in a heavy tone.
"Just because you've become a Player doesn't mean you should act rashly. Keep your head down. Since it's your first time, it might be best to just look around and come back. I'll send you the list of connection points now."
Swiping his fingers through the air, a list materialized before my eyes.
There were nearly twenty servers on the list.
"Is the Seoul Station server not here?"
"Seoul Station? Ah, that place was compromised by F not too long ago. It was removed from the list."
F.
It was the identifier used by the rogue artificial intelligence ruling the Internet. It had first appeared seven years ago in the official dispatch notifying humanity that the war was over.
Since most people simply referred to it as the rogue AI or the Machine Species, very few actually uttered that name.
"You call the AI 'F'?"
"We need a way to distinguish it," the guard said, scratching his head. "The entire Internet is controlled by AI, after all. But among them, there's one entity that's exceptionally dangerous. Whenever an anomaly occurs on the net, it shows up and actively tries to eliminate humans. We call that one F."
I recalled my last field mission. Most of the Internet's residents behaved exactly like ordinary humans, but certain entities—like the raccoon—were distinctly different. Those were the ones they called F.
When I selected the Chungmuro university server, I felt the Monolith Gate ripple.
"You may enter. I pray for your safe return."
Leaving the guard behind, I reached out and stepped into the Monolith Gate.
My vision went dark, and text began to scroll.
> OK
> ...ATDT014XY...
> CONNECTING...
[BEEP-BEEP-BEEP-ZZZZZZ-SCREEECH...]
Strings of cryptic English characters flashed by, accompanied by a harsh electronic screech in my ears.
Wow, talk about a retro vibe.
CC seemed to understand what the text and sounds meant.
A moment later, a low murmur of voices filled the air, and my vision cleared. The bustling streets of Chungmuro unfolded before me.
Pristine skyscrapers soared toward the sky, cars packed the four-lane road, and crowds of people moved about in a busy rush.
Seeing it again, it was nothing short of miraculous.
"CC."
Yes?
"Are all of these people constructs created by the AI?"
Yep. The virtual reality is rendered by the AI.
"Then why don't they notice when a human connects?"
This was a question that had lingered in my mind since my last field mission. If someone entered my mind, I was confident I would notice instantly.
It's just a theory... but I think it's the difference between the conscious and the subconscious.
"The subconscious?"
When humans breathe, walk, or use chopsticks, those are highly complex actions, but they're handled by the subconscious. Similarly, the AI rendering virtual reality is likely a subconscious computation.
So even artificial intelligence possessed a conscious and subconscious mind.
On the other hand, F represents the conscious mind. If a noticeable anomaly occurs somewhere on the Internet, F's conscious attention is drawn to it. From that moment on, F directly controls that sector instead of leaving it to subconscious processes. In fact, even we AIs have many aspects of our own personalities that we don't fully understand. For instance, in my case, a portion of my memory is sealed—
CC's explanation was growing increasingly convoluted. I tuned her out and continued walking down the street.
Most of the people on the street were young adults in their twenties, all moving briskly in the same direction. I followed them.
"There are a lot of young people here."
Well, there's a university nearby. The server we connected to belongs to that school, after all.
"Are they all college students?"
Surprised you even know what a college student is. You're from the war generation, so there weren't any universities around, right?
"Someone I knew used to talk about his college days all the time."
Passersby cast curious glances in my direction. I stopped talking to myself and walked in silence.
A blue arrow from CC materialized in the air, pointing toward a building.
It's that building over there.
I stopped in front of a four-story building. The ground floor was occupied by a fairly large flower shop.
Before I could even step inside, the door burst open and a muscular red-skinned man bounded out.
"Hyeong-nim! You're here! Does that mean...?"
With cropped hair, crimson skin, and a white suit stretched tight over bulging muscles, Kang Yeolchan greeted me with a beaming smile.
I showed him my Player License.
"I knew it! I knew you'd get it, Hyeong-nim! Come on in! Mom—I mean, the Guild Leader is waiting for you inside!"
I followed Yeolchan into the flower shop. The employees inside gave me polite nods as I passed. They, too, appeared to be Players.
We climbed the stairs to the top floor and entered an office.
"Oh my, you actually got it?"
The door, labeled "President's Office," opened to reveal a small room filled with lush green plants and the sweet scent of flowers.
Seated behind the desk, Yoo Hyeyeon could not hide her astonishment at my arrival.
"They say it's easier to raise your grade the lower it is, but even a single level usually takes nearly ten years... How did you manage it in such a short time? Do you have some kind of secret?" Hyeyeon gestured toward a sofa, her sharp eyes scanning me with intense curiosity.
"I told you, Mom! I knew Hyeong-nim would pull it off!" Yeolchan chimed in.
"Hmm. Well, congratulations. You are officially a Player now. Since you've come all this way, I assume you intend to join our guild?"
"Yes. I look forward to working with you."
Hyeyeon smiled and placed a small box on the table.
"Wise choice. Many Players try to go solo to avoid restrictions, but diving without a foundation makes adaptation slow and incredibly dangerous. There's no one to watch your back when things go south."
Inside the box was a smartphone and a leather wallet.
"These are the standard supplies we provide to newly registered Players. Unlike in IntraMaetan, you can't use system messages on the Internet. You have to rely on the local communication networks of the virtual world. This is a cell phone... Do you know how to use one?"
I had used one a few times as a young child to watch videos.
I know how to use it. Don't worry.
"I know how," I replied aloud.
"Really? That's unexpected. Hardly anyone uses cell phones in IntraMaetan... And this is your identification card. It's essentially Maetan's equivalent of an employee ID. You'll need it while operating on the Internet."
Hyeyeon opened the wallet to show me. Inside was a plastic card labeled "Resident Registration Card."
Handing the wallet to Yeolchan, Hyeyeon instructed, "Take this down to the first floor and have them insert Juhyuk's photo. Load 100,000 won onto the T-money transit card, and put 50,000 won in cash in there for now."
"On it!"
"Oh, wait. By the way... do you plan on keeping that goblin avatar?"
"Is there a problem with it?"
"No. Even if you use a goblin avatar, the Internet's rendering filters will just make you look like a human who resembles a goblin... so it doesn't really matter. Well, if you like it, then..."
Yeolchan took the wallet and left the office. Once his massive frame cleared the room, the cramped office suddenly felt much more spacious.
"Once again, congratulations on becoming a Player."
"Thank you."
"I'm sure you already know, but let me go over the rights and duties of a Player one more time. I know it's tedious, but it's standard procedure." Hyeyeon gave a slight wink.
"Players execute various missions commissioned by Maetan. The tasks vary widely—most often it's data collection, but we also do person-of-interest searches, Internet sector reconnaissance, and risk assessments of newly discovered servers... Why don't you open the browser on your phone?"
I picked up the device. As I stared blankly at the screen, unsure of what a "browser" was, CC highlighted the correct app with a glowing arrow.
> ACCESSING: PlayerGround.com
"Missions issued by Maetan are registered on that site. You can't access it from IntraMaetan; it's only reachable from the Internet. Most solo Players pick up their work here."
I scrolled through the site's mission board.
• Seeking a Player to reconstruct the recipe, flavor profile, and cooking method of Malatang.
• [URGENT] Seeking Players for Seoul Library book data collection (1/30)
• Seeking a route to Eunpyeong-gu circa May 2014.
• Recruiting party members to defeat the thugs under the Dobong Station bridge.
• Bus route pattern survey (Continuous recruitment)
...
The listings ranged from straightforward tasks to completely baffling requests.
"Interesting, isn't it? ...But in truth, the critical missions never make it to this board." Hyeyeon leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs with an air of quiet confidence. "Most high-priority missions are allocated directly to guilds first. We have the track record. We then assign those missions to the Players we deem most suitable and provide them with support—though we do take a small commission fee, of course."
Looks like joining the guild was the right call after all.
"Is that so?" I murmured.
"Aside from a few exceptional individuals, most solo Players scrape by just diving to gather mundane data and returning. We call them 'Miners.' Data miners. While their work does enrich IntraMaetan... I doubt you became a Player just to lead that kind of life, Juhyuk."
Hyeyeon had correctly guessed that I had my own motives for becoming a Player.
I gave a slow nod.
Hyeyeon smiled and pulled out her own phone. "Good. If you had said you wanted to live as a Miner, I would have kicked you out."
She tapped her screen, and a moment later, my phone buzzed in my hand.
The message filled my screen.
Hyeyeon looked up and met my eyes. "This is your first mission."