Death, Restart

In this world, there exists a mysterious, invisible force known as luck. Science has never proven it. At some point in human history the word simply took root and never left — a wondrous little term for something no one can see.

Luck splits cleanly in two: good fortune and misfortune.

Good fortune means things go your way. Misfortune means they don't. Two words parked at opposite extremes, as binary as language gets.

Some people are simply born with it. Everything they touch turns to gold; they rise and keep on rising. Others can't catch a break no matter what they try. We call the first kind lucky. We call the second unlucky.

So. What about me?

I died, and my soul ended up inside the game I used to play. Was that good fortune, or misfortune?

Probably... misfortune.

Why?

Because this was a character I'd only just made.

Buzz!

The phone I'd left on the table went off like a fire alarm. KakaoTalk — my friends, already at the meetup, lighting up the group chat.

I scrubbed the water out of my hair with a towel and checked the screen.

Sure enough, the group chat was a wall of profanity. I scooped my clothes up off the floor one piece at a time and typed out a sincere apology.

Buzz! Buzz! Buzz!!!!!!

Whether they were moved by my heartfelt apology or not, my friends poured their hearts and souls into spamming the chat. What great friends.

Once I was dressed, I grabbed the still-screaming phone and my wallet and headed out. I thought about taking the car, but we were obviously going to drink until dawn like always, so I left the keys behind.

KR-R-R-RUMBLE—!

"Jesus—that scared me. Was it supposed to rain today?"

The thunder made me jump. I looked up. The sky was a solid lid of black cloud, ready to split open any second.

"...Should I just see them next time?"

The thought of rain made staying home and playing games sound a lot better. But my friends were already at the meetup. If I bailed now, they might get so delighted they'd come find me — clubs in hand, no doubt.

"Tsk. Whatever. Let's go."

I wasn't particularly interested in getting the shit beaten out of me, so I went back inside, grabbed an umbrella, and started walking again.

"Lucky!"

Fortune was on my side. The second I hit the bus stop, the bus heading to the meetup rolled up. I squeezed in with the crowd and found a place to stand.

The bus was packed. Naturally, there wasn't a single seat for my exhausted ass.

The back...

Whenever I ride the bus, I sit in the very last row. A habit, or a superstition — call it whatever you want. Even if there's no seat, I stand by the rear door.

"...Forget it."

Shoving through that many people to reach the back looked like a lost cause. Evening rush hour. Too many bodies, even for a packed bus. Rear door: abandoned.

The bus crawled to the next stop.

"Getting off."

The man in front of me stood up. A seat opened. Instant staredown among everyone still standing.

The winner of a staredown is always the one who moves first. And I'm a faster man than I look.

Nice!

While two other people were still measuring each other up, I slipped into the empty seat. See? The one who moves first wins. Thanks to that, I got to sit my way to the meetup in comfort.

Five stops left. To kill the time, I pulled out my phone and launched the game.

The gacha RPG I'd been hopelessly addicted to since the year before last.

You spend the premium currency — Gems — to summon beautiful girls and boys called Fairies, then use them to clear the dungeons that had appeared all over the world. A collectible RPG, through and through.

When you first start the game, you pick a gender for your player character — the Master. Do it on a whim with no information and you will regret it.

Pick male, and every Fairy you summon is locked female. Pick female, and every Fairy you summon is locked male.

Plenty of people had gone, I like playing as a girl! without reading anything, made a female Master, and then poured Gems into the game only to pull nothing but pretty boys. The mechanic caused a minor controversy at launch. The developers held the line, calling it Fairy Masters' unique identity, and refused to budge. They did eventually start releasing the occasional gender-neutral Fairy you could pull on either account, which more or less killed the argument.

Anyway. I launched Fairy Masters and logged into my main — Gibung-i. The female Fairies lounging at home waved and welcomed me back.

I'd poured two years of my life and the price of two mid-size cars into raising these girls. My friends had called me every name in the book for dumping tens of thousands of dollars into a mobile game. I didn't regret a cent of it.

In a game with over a hundred million global downloads, I was sitting twentieth in Korea and four hundred thirtieth in the world.

And compared to the other rankers, I'd barely spent any money. Those people had burned through the price of three or four apartments. Next to them, I was a baby. Waaah.

I still hadn't recouped what I'd put into the account, but uploading Fairy Masters guide videos brought in a decent side income. To climb that high on less money than the other rankers, I'd researched the game into the ground. If I'd studied this hard in my senior year of high school, I might've gotten into Seoul National. That's how far I'd sunk into it.

The know-how I'd built, the guide videos I'd posted — they pulled respectable views not just in Korea but overseas too.

I cleared the so-called homework — the daily missions — scooped up the currency that had stacked while I was offline, and logged out. Then I logged into my alt. Also named Gibung-i. Both accounts. Gibung-i is my nickname. That's why.

A long way below the main. That was not a bad result. Not even close. I hadn't spent a single cent on the alt. A completely free-to-play account.

Fairy Masters had a hundred million downloads worldwide. Every scrap of knowledge I'd ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠earned raising the main had been poured straight into this one.

All ten of my core Fairies were 10-Star, full spec. I was currently building three raid teams.

The game is viciously stingy with growth resources. Whale or F2P, everyone starves. If you wanted Fairies to grow fast on a free account, focus and selectivity weren't optional. They were the whole strategy.

"...Huh."

I scooped every last scrap of stacked currency off the alt and then... there was nothing to do. The account didn't have the specs to push the story yet. I'd hit a plateau. Other than PVP, the well was dry.

I stared at my phone for a second and made an impulsive decision.

"Maybe I should start a third account."

People called Fairy Masters a god-tier story game, and they weren't wrong. I don't know about anyone else, but for me the story never got old. I could run it again and again.

Like I said: I'm a man who acts faster than he thinks. I created the third account on the spot and ran the tutorial.

Gibung-i.

The third account was named Gibung-i too. The first time I'd heard that nickname it hadn't sat well. These days I heard Gibung-i more often than my actual name — Han Ki-woong — and it had grown on me.

I was just about to clear the first stage.

SCREEEECH—!

The sound of a vehicle slamming on its brakes. I turned to the window on instinct, and I saw it: a dump truck, closing fast, aimed straight at the bus I was sitting in.

Last words. I should leave last words.

"Ah, fuck."

BOOM—!

—...la!

—...eck!

—...it!

Shut up.

I was trying to get some sleep for once and someone was making a racket. They were screaming like they'd been possessed — like there was a World Cup match on and the whole country had lost its mind.

Let me sleep, you bastards! What time is it that you're still yelling?!

Irritation boiled over and I shouted. They shouted louder. If anything, they cranked the volume — like they were doing it to piss me off.

That did it. I was wide awake.

...I'm done.

"Hey, you fucking bastards, let me sleep! Why the hell are you yell—ing...?"

The bellow died in my throat. The scene in front of me stole the rest of the sentence.

CRUNCH—!

"GYAAAAH! H-help—"

An axe — the kind you'd use to split firewood — was buried in the collarbone of the man who'd been lying face-down in front of me. Blood sprayed across my face. He reached toward me, tried to say ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠something, and collapsed. He'd been trying to ask me to save him. I was pretty sure of that.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

What the...

I looked up on instinct, toward whatever had just butchered him.

Kik-kik-kik!

Could you even call that a person?

It barely came up to my waist. Its teeth were shark-needle sharp. Its skin wasn't yellow or white or black — it was green. A scrap of filthy cloth hung around its hips like something off a primitive tribe.

That wasn't a person. That was a monster.

Slurp.

It licked a drop of blood off its own face like it tasted good. Then it laughed again, satisfied.

The monster's eyes found me. One life wasn't enough. Those eyes were full of murder.

I'd heard the phrase eyes full of killing intent. I'd never actually seen it. Of course I hadn't. Where would a guy who'd lived an ordinary life run into eyes like that?

And I still knew. Instantly. Instinctively. Those were the eyes of something that killed people for fun. A psychopath's eyes.

The problem was where that killing intent was pointed. At me.

Kik!

The monster laughed and wrenched the axe out of the dead man's collarbone. It had gone in deep; the creature planted a foot on the man's back and ripped the axe free with both arms. Fresh blood flicked across my face.

"Ah—AAAAAHHH!"

The heat of it hitting my skin snapped my frozen brain back online. I screamed and scrambled backward. I wanted to bolt upright and run until my lungs gave out. My legs had turned to water. I couldn't.

Kik-kik! Kiiiieeeek!

The monster came toward me, laughing. Slow, unhurried steps. Like it wanted me scared first.

Fuck! What is this?! A dream, right? It's a dream, isn't it? There's no way monsters exist in this world! I was sleeping just fine at home—wait.

Was I... sleeping at home?

The monster slowed down — or time did. The world stretched, and I had room to think.

I hadn't been at home.

I'd gotten on a bus to meet my friends. I'd opened a mobile game called Fairy Masters to kill time. I'd impulsively made a third account, and then—

BOOM—!

...Ah?

The last thing I remembered was a dump truck folding itself into the bus I was sitting on.

Did I... die?

I didn't want to believe it. But I had. A dump truck at that speed doesn't leave survivors. Basic physics.

Right. I died.

Then what the hell is this?

I'm not religious. I don't believe in an afterlife. You die, that's it. Lights out.

So why wasn't I done? Why was I sitting in front of a monster that had just murdered a man?

Kik-kik-kik!

Time slammed back to full speed. The monster reached me and raised the axe the same way it had when it killed the man.

"FUCK!!!!!"

I had no idea what was going on. I knew I didn't want to die like this. My hand closed on whatever it could find, and I drove it forward.

THUNK—!

Ki... ik?

The monster stared down at its own body like it couldn't believe what it was seeing. A sword was buried in its gut. The hilt was in my hand.

Ki... kiiiik!

CRUNCH—!

"GYAAAAAAAH!"

The monster wanted company on the road to hell. It wrung out whatever it had left and swung. The axe bit down, and I screamed.

"Aaaagh... ah?"

The pain didn't come. I looked at where the axe had landed.

It was buried between my legs. Directly beneath the family jewels.

"Oh, fuck."

The words came out on their own.