The Cost of Computation

The Neck-Hub.

It was a personal terminal that every citizen of Maetan had to have surgically implanted.

Its neural bundles fused with the brain, acting as a computer-like device operated entirely by thought.

Hee-cheol pulled out a USB cable, plugged one end into the back of his neck, and pointed the other end toward me.

I took the cable and slotted it into my Neck-Hub.

Instantly, my surroundings began to overwrite.

The dim tavern vanished, replaced by a stark white room containing only Hee-cheol and me.

It was a virtual space generated entirely by Hee-cheol's brain.

"Generating a custom space... Your computation power is as impressive as ever."

"It's the only reason I'm running a gang at twenty-five, ain't it, boss?"

"What did you say your Computation Grade was again?"

"Heh, C-Grade, sir."

There are no computers in Maetan.

To be precise, there are no central processing units—CPUs—the core component of any computer.

The decisive reason humanity lost to the AI.

It was because the AI hacked every single thing equipped with a processing unit.

Back when nations still existed, while my unit and I were on the front lines fighting cutting-edge drones and multi-legged tanks, the home front was reportedly being ravaged by exploding refrigerators and rogue self-driving taxis.

In one building, the automated ventilation systems shut down all at once, suffocating hundreds to death.

Ultimately, humanity stripped the CPUs from every machine.

In their place, they used a biological processor that could never be hacked, one that every human already possessed.

The brain.

Computation Grades were a numerical representation of how effectively a person's brain could function as a CPU.

Hee-cheol's C-Grade placed him in the top ten percent of Maetan.

"Ah, this is the cargo I need you to transport, boss."

A wall slid open, revealing countless garments.

Simultaneously, a file directory was transmitted directly to my brain.

"...What is this?"

"Outfits, sir."

"Outfits?"

"Yes, sir. The clothes we wear for work."

Though Garden was a gang of thugs, they had their own profitable business.

Virtual prostitution.

Safe, high-end services provided by virtual hosts and hostesses with charms that far surpassed reality.

"These are custom avatars commissioned by an acquaintance over in ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Intra-Sampyeong, sir."

Avatars were the digital manifestations of oneself on virtual servers like Intra-Maetan.

While most people simply reflected their real-world appearance, many chose to use fabricated designs tailored to their tastes.

"Would you like to try one on, boss?"

Hee-cheol pulled a square file icon from the wardrobe and tossed it to me.

Instantly, a blinding light enveloped my entire body.

As the light faded, the figure reflected in the wardrobe's full-length mirror was...

"Whoa..."

Softly waving brown hair, a body sculpted to embody pure, raw sensuality.

It was a beauty not of this world.

A masterpiece of aesthetic perfection, as if woven stitch by stitch by the hands of a god.

"Kaaah... Absolutely killer. As expected of our design team's masterpiece, Sexy Jennifer Perfect Body Custom 3.3, sir."

Hee-cheol gave me a double thumbs-up, marveling at the sight.

"It certainly is impressive."

It was on a completely different dimension compared to a cheap goblin avatar.

Even the slightest gesture triggered optimized movements designed to maximize the avatar's allure.

Raising an arm tilted the hips, drawing the eye to the accentuated curves of the waist.

A simple turn of the head sent soft locks of hair and long eyelashes fluttering seductively.

It was a beauty worthy of admiration.

But for me, it was too much.

"Ugh...!"

A sharp, stabbing headache flared up from the side of my head.

The Neck-Hub frantically flashed red warning text.

A warning that my brain was about to cook itself.

I fumbled at the back of my neck and yanked the USB cable out.

The white room vanished, and I was back in the dim tavern.

"Pant... pant... Ugh..."

I grabbed the water cup off the table and poured it over my head.

The cold water washed away some of the throbbing pain.

"I'm sorry, sir. I had no idea the avatar would put that much strain on you."

It wasn't Hee-cheol's fault.

The problem lay with my own computation power, which couldn't even process a single avatar properly.

My Computation Grade was E.

Practically the lowest possible rank.

"It's not your fault, boss. Our avatars are so detailed that they require a massive amount of data to render. Masterpieces always ignore the cost, don't they?"

Hee-cheol tried to comfort me, but it was definitely my fault.

The brain had to calculate the fabric, the movements, the textures, the tactile sensations, and even the scent.

It was far too heavy a burden for an E-Grade.

"...Is this everything I need to deliver? Who do I give it to?"

"If you go to the checkpoint office over there, you'll find a raccoon."

"A raccoon?"

"Yes, sir. Well, you'll see when you get there. Just say this to the raccoon."

Hee-cheol spoke slowly and clearly so I wouldn't miss a word.

"Please spend a lovey-dovey night with Mungchi tonight."

What.

"...Does it really have to be that?"

"Of course, sir. That's how passwords work, isn't it? Repeat after me, nice and clear: 'Please spend a lovey-dovey night with Mungchi tonight.'"

Dammit...

"What if I accidentally say it to the wrong person?"

"Then you'll know immediately. If you say that, the raccoon will reply like ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠this."

"With what?"

"You pervert."

After filling my stomach at Garden, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I returned home and lay down on my bed.

A message from my boss had arrived the previous night.

The content was simple.

- Report to work as usual.

It meant that going on an external assignment didn't get me out of my regular shift.

I pulled down the USB cable hanging from the ceiling and plugged it into my Neck-Hub.

It was a direct line to the intranet covering all of Maetan.

A moment after the authentication message appeared,

my drab room vanished, replaced by a vast plaza stretching out beneath a clear blue sky.

Unless you used a specific bypass, logging into Intra-Maetan always brought you here, to Maetan Plaza.

It was essentially the lobby of the entire network.

I looked down at my arms.

Scrawny, short, green-skinned goblin arms.

No matter how many times I saw them, I couldn't get used to it.

Suddenly, the numbers in the upper right corner of my vision caught my eye.

I had to hurry. There wasn't much time left before my shift started.

I had spent too much time at Garden.

I sprinted as fast as my stubby legs could carry me toward the Goblin's Forest.

The Goblin's Forest was the starting zone that every Intra-Maetan user seeking 'adventure' passed through first.

Deep within that forest lay the Goblin Hideout.

To the untrained eye, it looked like a smelly cave where goblins loitered, but systematically, it was the respawn point for goblins slain by players. In reality, it served as the 'breakroom' for our Customer Satisfaction Team.

As the lowest-ranking employee, I was always the first to arrive.

There were chores to do before my seniors showed up.

Cleaning the breakroom, updating the notices and shift schedules, restocking the rotten meat and stagnant water...

They were trivial tasks, but I had never missed a single one since taking them over.

It was just as I reached the deepest part of the cave, the goblin larder.

"Well, look who finally decided to show up. Our little rookie?"

The Handaxe Goblin Senior and Longsword Goblin Senior were standing stiffly at attention.

In front of them stood a goblin so massive its head nearly brushed the cave ceiling.

The Goblin King.

The boss monster of the Goblin's Forest, and the NPC piloted by our Customer Satisfaction Team leader, Manager Kim.

Reading the room, I quickly fell in line beside my seniors and stood at attention.

"Are you some kind of executive? Why aren't you here early preparing for work?"

"My apologies, sir."

I rolled my eyes slightly to check the time.

There were still ten minutes left before my shift officially started.

"Is that it? Just because you're going on an external assignment, you think you can slack off? Hey, do you only think about yourself? Do you have any idea what a mess we're ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in because of you? Our entire team has to undergo customer service retraining starting tonight. You know that, right?"

Grrrr. The Goblin King let out its signature guttural growl.

"But does this make any sense? The very guy who caused the incident gets to go on an external assignment today? The one who needs the training most isn't even attending? Does that seem right to you? Huh?"

The Goblin King's complaints and lecturing dragged on for over ten minutes.

Just as his nagging reached its peak, a notification popped up.

The moment the shift started, he stopped lecturing and turned toward the wall where the rotten meat was piled.

"Hey, Yoon Juhyuk, you bastard!!"

"Yes, Manager Kim."

"Did I or did I not tell you to update the shift schedule and restock the meat and water before work started?"

The Goblin King pointed at the piles of rotten meat and stagnant water against the wall.

To ordinary players, they were just stagnant water and rotten meat, but to us wearing goblin avatars, they tasted like savory bread and sweet cola. In other words, this was our pantry.

"You did, sir."

"Then why is it empty? Why is the schedule still set to yesterday's? And we're completely out of water!!"

He was being completely unreasonable.

If the manager hadn't held me hostage with his nagging, I would have finished restocking everything.

The Goblin King shouted a few more times, then stomped right up to me.

"How many months has it been since you started?"

"A little over three months, sir."

"If it's three months, it's three months. What's this 'little over' crap? Oh, hit your hundred-day mark? You think you can slack off now that you've reached triple digits? Is that it?"

"No, sir."

"Sigh, how did we end up hiring a psychopath like you?"

The Goblin King drew a massive sword from his waist.

"You're really something else, you know that? What did you say again? 'How can I feel tense when my life isn't on the line?' Wow. So I guess you aren't feeling tense at all right now? Even when I'm chewing you out like this? Nothing? You just don't care?"

"No, sir."

"You said you don't get tense unless your life is on the line. That's why you treat every instruction and task like a joke. That's why your attitude is garbage. Hey!"

Thud!

The Goblin King raised his sword high.

The blade, which resembled a blunt instrument more than a sharp weapon, scraped the ceiling, sending a shower of dirt and dust raining down.

"I'll make sure you feel tense."

The Goblin King's sword came crashing down toward me.

Slow.

Frankly, the punches thrown by the Garden thugs were faster than this.

Instead of tension, a wave of lethargy washed over me.

I could have dodged it with my eyes closed.

But dodging would be a bad idea.

Even I had that much common sense.

Crunch!

The massive sword crushed my head and torso, and I experienced death.

In Intra-Maetan, one could experience death.

Though I didn't know how closely it resembled the real thing, the developers of Intra-Maetan had programmed the most realistic approximation of death they could conceive.

It was the sensation of every neural pathway in the brain firing wide open and then snapping shut in an instant.

Pain, electricity, paralysis, heat, stinging, euphoria, tremors, warmth, sweetness, bitterness, astringency, the suffocating panic of running out of oxygen, the nausea of gastric juices rushing backward, alienation, isolation, crushing pressure, and total collapse.

Every single sensation Intra-Maetan was capable of replicating assaulted my brain simultaneously.

In that split second, a kaleidoscope of colors and shapes flashed before my eyes, sounds beyond the range of human hearing roared in my ears, and every nerve from my skin to my internal organs registered every possible sensation all at once.

And then, in the blink of an eye, every single sensation went dead.

No sight, no sound, not even the faintest echo of my own existence.

That staggering, violent drop in sensory input was what the developers of Intra-Maetan defined as death.

Along with the notification, my extinguished senses flooded back.

I was in the goblin cave's sleeping quarters, the designated respawn point for deceased goblins.

I quickly ran back to the breakroom.

"Took you a whole three minutes to get back? Is the entrance really that far? I guess it wasn't a real death, so you're still not feeling tense enough, huh?"

The Goblin King raised his sword once more.

"Fine. I'll carve the meaning of true tension right into your body."

I died more than ten times.