Prologue: A Life of Rotten Luck / Chapter 1: Lucky Day

His life had been one of utterly rotten luck. Or ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠rather, that was just what he told himself to feel better—blaming anything and everything else. Blaming his parents, his surroundings, other people... even his damn luck. It made it easier to swallow his pathetic existence without admitting it was all his own fault.

But even he had one thing his conscience wouldn't let him blame: his talent for games. Having poured more time into gaming than anything else over his twenty-eight years, he knew it better than anyone. No matter the game, his talent stood out. Strategy sims, racing, fighters, FPS, AOS—you name it. He could reach top-tier player status with far less effort than anyone else.

To put it precisely, he had an uncanny knack for spotting the key plays in every game.

The problem? His talent, while impressive, wasn't uniquely dominant. And more importantly, he'd never truly pushed it to the limit in any game. Yeah, that's right. He'd played countless titles but never claimed the top spot. He'd always used his innate laziness and childhood trauma as excuses, bailing on games right when he needed to take that one extra step beyond "top-tier."

"Best effort? Hard work? Easy to say... The world's full of connected assholes with backers, or insanely lucky bastards!"

Or, "But how's someone like me supposed to beat all that? Might as well quit midway—it's just a waste of time anyway!"

Looking back, it was all foolish loser's excuses. If he'd just gone all-out in one game and then quit, he wouldn't be drowning in regret now. But he'd never faced a single challenge head-on, always folding and repeating the cycle. In the end, he'd wasted his golden twenties achieving jack shit.

But as they say, even a mouse hole gets sunlight someday. Unbelievable as it sounds, that day finally came for him. The day he could no longer run from his excuses... the day he acquired the perfect "backer," support, and stroke of luck all rolled into one.

Click!

At a game coronation ceremony he stumbled into by chance, he'd snagged the strongest item of all: the Holy Sword.

『Tomorrow is finally the day of Taesung Guild's historic coronation ceremony!』

『That's right. For the longest time, everyone wondered who the first player to become a king in Titan Chronicles would be and when. And as everyone predicted, it's Taesung Guild's leader, Darius, who's unified the Five Castles and will ascend the throne.』

『What an incredible event! Even if it's just in a game, a player becoming a nation's king!』

He'd passed out after grinding quests all night and woke up turning on the TV first thing. His go-to channel was always Taitonic TV, the station dedicated solely to the VR game Titan Chronicles. With personal live-streaming banned in the VR gaming era, broadcast networks had made a huge comeback. Taitonic TV boasted the highest ratings, and sure enough, they were rerunning coverage of today's coronation.

"That bastard Park Taehu... He's actually becoming king. Already acts like one IRL, and now he'll have the real title? Some people get all the luck."

Envy dripped from his mutter as he pictured Darius—Park Taehu—prepping for the ceremony somewhere right now.

Darius. Current unified rankings #1, holder of countless records and first kills. Undisputed top star of Titan Chronicles. Guild master of the powerhouse Taesung Guild, and a chaebol heir in real life. The guy had it all.

"He's good at games, sure... but watching a prick like that steamroll everything? The world's fucking unfair."

The Illusion Soft CEO might not know him, but everyone else did. And truth be told, they'd been high school classmates.

Back in school, during the strategy sim craze Galaxy War that swept Korea, he'd hit domestic top 100 amateur status—famous in school. One day, rumors led to a 1v1 against a pro hopeful from another class. But it blew up bigger than expected, shaking his life in ways he couldn't foresee.

"If I'd just thrown that match back then... would my life be different? Up to that point, I was passionate about every game."

The matchup was an event at a PC bang, dozens of friends watching. His opponent? Park Taehu, now Darius.

The best-of-five went surprisingly easy. He snagged two quick wins with cheeky strats; Taehu was tough but not quite on his level.

But during the break Taehu requested, he should've skipped the bathroom.

Cornered in the cramped bathroom, he faced absurd threats. But fearless then and now, he just laughed them off.

'It's just kids playing a game—what's this bullshit? And what're you gonna do if I don't throw?'

He should've realized bullies who threaten over trivia might go nuclear later. Should've known the glare from defeated Taehu spelled trouble.

The whispered warning became reality. Whether pride or some backstory drove him, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Taehu ruined his life in the pettiest way.

Not him directly. His dad, at a mid-tier subcontractor for a Taesung affiliate, got forced out after twenty years over "made-up" mistakes. The corp abruptly canceled contracts, and the boss begged.

Thanks to the boss's kindness and dad's connections, he found new work—but after much hardship leaving a beloved company. He couldn't tell his dad the truth. Guilt aside, even he couldn't believe a game loss caused this.

'Just because he lost to me...? Even if he was pissed I didn't throw... Destroy a family over that? Crazy people like that exist?'

Unbelievable, but real. His first cultural shock killed his drive for success. He realized reaching the top meant enduring backlash from those already there. Terrified, he became a coward who quit before starting.

"Guy was crushing anyone who pissed him off IRL too, so maybe inevitable. Him becoming king in-game? Figures."

More negativity loomed, so he scarfed his cereal bowl and hopped into the capsule.

—La la lalala.

Wind spirit songs whispered in his ears. Misty clouds licked his cheeks coldly. Then, the Titan Chronicles logo rose majestically in the distance.

Titan Chronicles—sequel to the legendary Korean MMORPG Titan Age. The world's first full-dive VRMMO. Three years post-launch, popularity only grew, sparking revolutions in servers worldwide.

"Log in."

He savored the familiar login sequence before confirming. Escaping dreary reality for another world always thrilled him.

As the first VR online game, Titan Chronicles had unique restrictions unlike PC games. Like character creation: only one per account, no alts, no power-leveling or selling. Even gender was fixed.

Devs called it minimizing VR side effects.

'Not that it mattered much.'

Surprisingly, single-character focus was a boon in VR. Players bonded deeply, played sincerely since deletion was tough. Three years in, "concept players" treating avatars as second selves was normalized.

Whether Illusion Soft planned it or not, combined with stellar gameplay, it fueled unprecedented success.

'But in those three years, my luck—especially item luck—sucked balls.'

Regrettable he never caught that wave.

Lost in thought, he touched his floating character as usual. The assimilation ritual to prevent over-immersion. His hand merged first, then his body, logging him into the game world.

Familiar forest scent, sunlight piercing foliage. He'd logged in stealthed where he logged out: central Red Haired Troll Forest near Bernstein Castle.

"Oh, nice! Party spotted right away. Morning hunting grounds are the best—super chill!"

Repeat quest grinding lived or died on efficiency. Better than evening crowds stressing him out.

He checked remaining quest mobs.

"Sweet, two more and this set's done? One incoming!"

Last night, troll parties were rare; now he snuck up stealthed.

Red Haired Trolls were tough 1v1 for same-level players. Soloing parties? Hell even for geared high-levels. Thus, a party-only zone—no soloists.

But he'd soloed here a month straight.

Expert timing—no distance calc needed. Smoke trap down away from them. Then dagger toss at nearest troll warrior.

Shwick!Ding!

Aggro sound only he heard. He backpedaled in line with the trap, self-buffing to lure them.

The tanky frontline warrior triggered it—boom!

Targeting the rear shaman, thief teleport landed him behind. Normally, he'd be swarmed by warriors before touching it—that's why party-only, C-rank quest.

But smoke engulfed only warriors. Perfect timing/distancing isolated him ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and shaman.

"Every ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠time... My Montena quest solo strat is OP. Die!"

Smoke lacked damage/CC but blocked vision multi-target. 10s duration: shaman solo.

Frail shaman vs. thief burst? No contest.

"Kuek!"