Day 20
“Yaaawn—”
Sunlight poured through the window as Cheon Seo-ah sat up in bed, stretching with a yawn.
“Morning already.”
Grrrrowl—
Still half-asleep with a vacant look on her face, she flushed faintly at the thunderous rumble that rolled up from her stomach.
Honestly.
“Human bodies are so inconvenient. Having to eat on a schedule…”
But what could she do? Without at least that much, she couldn’t function on Earth.
When she stepped out of her room, two men were already bustling around the kitchen preparing breakfast.
A young man whose earlier cocky air had mostly faded was cooking with flames blooming from both hands, while a monstrous figure whose entire body was made of shadow unspooled pieces of himself to work the pans.
The way the two of them cooked looked almost like a competition—for someone else’s sake.
“Ah—you’re awake, Miss!”
“You’ve risen.”
Catching sight of her standing there blankly watching them, both men bowed their heads with booming greetings.
“What are you doing?”
“Well… as you can see, preparing breakfast.”
“For whom…?”
“That would, of course, be for you, Miss… wouldn’t it…?”
Faced with her look of pure incomprehension, the young man answered with an awkward laugh.
Truth be told, he didn’t want to be doing this either—not even if he died. He’d clawed his way up to become one of Chilgeomje’s direct subordinates, only to be stuck playing servant to some mysterious little girl overnight.
He knew full well this was the only way he stayed alive. That didn’t make him want to do it any more.
And yet—
Eek—!
He snuck a glance out the window and screamed inwardly.
A crow sat on the railing outside, peering into the apartment. Strange patterns swam in both of its eyes.
He knew exactly what it was: one of Chilgeomje’s summons, there to watch whether they were carrying out their orders properly.
“Haha—please, have a seat.”
Rrrk—
He even pulled a chair out for her. At the same time, the shadow fiend used his own darkness to set the finished dishes neatly on the table.
Seo-ah watched them both for a moment.
“You really don’t have to go this far.”
The words were polite enough, but she sat down on the offered chair as if it were the most natural thing in the world—as if being waited on like this were simply ordinary.
“Everything looks delicious.”
She surveyed the spread of dishes and smiled faintly. The young man and the shadow fiend both looked quietly proud.
“I’m bored.”
After breakfast, Seo-ah sprawled on the sofa and stared blankly at the ceiling, muttering to herself.
Since arriving on Earth she had been through far too much. The long stretch of peace she was finally enjoying had, before she knew it, started to feel dull.
The young man kept stealing glances at her. At last he gathered his courage.
“Miss—are you bored?”
“Yes. I’m bored.”
“Then… what about trying a game?”
“A game?”
At his suggestion, Seo-ah wondered why she hadn’t thought of it herself. Before she had fallen into the Immortal Realm, she had enjoyed games quite a lot. The only reason the idea hadn’t even occurred to her now was probably that she hadn’t touched one in so long.
Still—
I wonder what’s popular these days.
Was it still Legend of Legend, the way it had been when she was last active on Earth? Or had something new taken over?
The question formed, and she turned to the young man.
“Do you have anything you could recommend?”
“Hmm… a recommendation, huh…”
He sank into deep thought. What should he even suggest?
Legend of Legend? Still sitting at number one in PC bangs more than ten years after release?
But—
LoL’s player base is way too toxic.
If Seo-ah made even one mistake and someone hit her with a family insult, what would happen?
He didn’t know the details, but he could guess: starting with their master Chilgeomje, the entire Illuminati would move. They would hunt that player to the ends of the earth, drag them in, and then… something so horrific the poor soul would beg out loud to be killed.
And of course the Illuminati would never actually let them die.
Still—
If I take LoL off the table, there isn’t really another game that good.
If you could just fix the players, nothing else quite matched it. Should he just grit his teeth and recommend it anyway? And if she actually got flamed—?
He kept turning it over without answering—until the shadow fiend, having just finished the dishes, untied his apron and spoke.
“Then what about Valorant?”
“Valorant?”
Seo-ah tilted her head. The young man’s face lit up as if he had just spotted a ray of light in the dark.
“That’s it! Valorant! Of course!”
“All right, Miss. Take the mouse in your right hand, move the cursor over the icon, and double-click the left button with your index finger—”
“Um… I can handle a computer, you know.”
“Huh? Ah—ahaha! R-right! Of course you can! That’s completely obvious!”
Seo-ah’s flat remark stopped him mid-explanation—he had been talking as if she were a three-year-old. Realizing what he had just done, the young man forced an awkward laugh while the shadow fiend looked at him with pure pity.
Anyway.
Valorant, huh.
A game she had never heard of. From the explanation, it had been out for a little under a year—made by the same company behind Legend of Legend. A five-versus-five character-based tactical shooter.
You picked one of several agents, each with unique abilities. Once a round started, you spent the money you were given on weapons and skills and tried to wipe the other team. Unlike a pure FPS, though, the skills created endless variables.
Curiosity steadily climbing, Seo-ah tore through the tutorial.
“It looks complicated on the outside, but once you look closer it’s a fairly simple game.”
Agents sorted into different roles by their kits. Five players locked in their positions, picked agents, played with some kind of strategy, and tried to win. That was Valorant.
That said, a perfect role composition wasn’t everything. Because it was still an FPS at heart, one absolute monster of a player could literally grab the other four by the scruff of the neck and drag them to victory.
So when the first real match began after the tutorial—
The chat exploded with curses from the very first second. Especially once all five players—including Seo-ah—locked duelists without a second thought for composition…
W-we’re done for.
Watching from behind her, the young man broke into a cold sweat and muttered inwardly. This was not a winnable game. The other four at least looked like they had played Valorant before. The problem was Seo-ah—a brand-new newbie who had just finished the tutorial.
He prayed to a god he didn’t even believe in that no one would so much as swear at her, let alone drop a family insult.
Please.
Please don’t flame her!
The second you open your mouths, you all die—and I die with you!
His prayers, of course, were completely useless.
One-shot kills weren’t technically possible given how Valorant worked—but every time Seo-ah fired, enemies who weren’t even on her screen dropped dead from headshots.
The chat went berserk. A level-one account was landing nothing but headshots and, on top of that, had not died once across thirteen rounds. Worse, people kept dying even when no one was visible on screen. Inevitably the word “hacker” started flying, tangled up with every curse imaginable, all of it aimed at Seo-ah.
The young man and the shadow fiend fretted uselessly—until Seo-ah spoke.
“Is there a way to just not see the chat at all?”
“O-of course! Type /all mute and you won’t see anything from teammates or enemies.”
“Thank you.”
Without a second of hesitation she typed the command. The raging flood of chat cut off at once—thud.
Only then did Seo-ah smile in satisfaction. She turned a bright, easy smile on the young man and the shadow fiend who had recommended the game.
“This is actually pretty fun.”