Possessed by a Murim Humiliation Game (1)

From time immemorial, it was said that in martial arts novels, the Murim noonas always fell victim to villains.

Built on that premise, the erotic martial arts game Murim Noona was created.

The goal of this game is to sleep with as many women as possible.

Naturally, the female characters who appear in Murim Noona exist to be violated in every way imaginable. Not merely violated, either — thoroughly, systematically humiliated. That is their purpose.

And I was not a player of Murim Noona. I was its developer.

At least, I was — until a moment ago.

"Goddamn it! Goddamn it! Ah, fuck! I'm screwed."

Nothing but curses kept spilling from my mouth.

Because the developer had become a player.

And why was that a problem?

Because I hadn't become a player the normal way.

For an adult game, Murim Noona had been developed — remarkably — as Korea's first NXR martial arts title. Translated, that stood for Neural eXtended Reality: a new interface fusing brain-computer interface technology with neural networking.

It was an adult game, yes, but because we were building it on an entirely new interface, we poured everything into development — and the results had been solid.

The tools you needed to play weren't a keyboard, a mouse, or a joystick. Just a single NXR headset that went on your head. The moment you put it on, your brain linked to the game through the headset, and from then on the game ran entirely through your mind. No hands required — only the judgments and commands your brain issued.

Just moments ago, I had been about to test the final quest — the Lust God-tier quest — using a developer character.

Outside the house, rain was pouring and thunder was crashing, but I never imagined any of that would corner me like this.

It was an item with a nightmarishly low success rate, so I started the enhancement fully expecting it to fail.

— RUMBLE. CRASH—

Thunder, right then.

A pain like a needle stabbing into my skull hit me for an instant, and then my whole body went electric, as if I'd been shocked.

What the hell? Did lightning ride the comm line?

That was the last thought I had before my consciousness cut out.

And when I woke again, what filled my eyes was not my room.

A place I had never seen before came into view. At first I wondered where I was — then I knew.

Holy shit…! This is inside the game.

But it was nothing like playing the game.

When you played, you always knew you were in a game the way you did with any VR title. No matter how advanced the 3D got, the characters were still 3D models, and the trees were still polygons — zoom in and you saw a clump of polygons, not a real tree.

But the scene in front of me now?

"It looks real."

Everything felt real. This was no polygon game world. What I was seeing was so vivid it was almost impossible to believe — no difference from reality at all. The grass, the trees, the buildings: all of it genuine.

And yet I knew for certain this world was the game world. The clothes I was wearing were proof enough — the outfits the characters wore inside the game. Martial-arts-novel garb you would never see in Korea. I was dressed in that game costume, and that alone let me grasp the situation immediately.

"Don't tell me… my neural net actually linked for real?"

There was only one reason things that should have felt like a game would feel like reality.

I wasn't connected to the game through the headset. My brain itself had been linked directly to the game system.

The way everything feels vividly real when you dream — when the brain itself is connected directly, the inside of the game feels just as real. The brain corrects and presents it as reality. The same way your brain already corrects and displays what you see in the real world, the reality in front of me now was being corrected by my brain so I could see it, taste it, and feel it.

"Transmigrated into a game. No — my brain actually linked to the game directly."

The absurdity of it stunned me, but first I had to get out and figure out what had happened to me.

Command: Logout!

What?

Why couldn't I log out?

No matter how many times I tried, the same message came back: logout conditions unmet, logout impossible.

Command: Display logout conditions.

Because it was a brain-driven game, you didn't type commands — you just thought them.

Command: What is the Lust God-tier Hidden Quest?

Goddamn it. This is insane.

Complete every heroine quest?

So I have to have sex with every heroine? And not ordinary sex — humiliation sex?

Fine. It's an adult game, so I'll grant that much. But who the hell is the Hidden Boss?

Command: Who is the Hidden Boss character?

A sigh came out on its own.

Command: So if I don't complete the quest, I can't log out?

Command: If I fail the quest, do I auto-logout?

Right. Of course. Fail the quest or die as a character, and you auto-logout.

So if I die inside this game, I auto-logout… wait…?

A chill of dread crawled up my spine.

Hold on…! In a normal game login environment, character death resets you and auto-logs you out. But right now my brain is linked directly to the server. That's why the game feels as real as reality. If I die in this state…?

Under normal conditions, a reset happens with the user's neural connection already cut. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠The neural data inside the headset gets wiped.

But ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠right now my brain itself was connected to the server.

If the server reset my brain in that state…?

Fuck! That means actual death.

Goosebumps prickled over my skin. I understood the anxiety and terror now.

My brain is linked directly to the game. That's why nothing feels like a game — everything feels real. If I die in this state, the real me dies too. Every scrap of data in my brain gets wiped, and I either die or end up a vegetable at best.

The chill ran deeper. My skin ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠crawled.

"Ah, fuck! Does that even make sense? Die in the game and the real me dies too?"

In a dream you can live through decades and wake up after only a few hours. Game time and outside time ran on different clocks the same way. I could last a year or ten years inside and still die — and the next day's news might read, Developer Dies While Gaming.

I was fucked!

For the real me, still linked to the game, to return to reality with a working brain, I had to log out of the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠game.

If I died inside… the real me died too!

"Haah, insane! To log out I have to complete the Lust God-tier quest without dying inside the game."

The curses came on their own, but cursing wouldn't fix anything.

Completing the quest by any means necessary was the only way out.

The problem was that the character I had chosen was not one of the famous ones in the game. I had thrown it together on a developer account for testing. Unlike a normal player character, I had built a separate one optimized for game testing and used that.

Let's check. Is my account even still intact?

Lightning had struck, something had gone wrong in that instant, and I had genuinely transmigrated into the game — so everything might have changed.

Command: Display character status window!

At the command, a status window rose before my eyes.

Goddamn. It really is the game.

The status window floating there confirmed it — I had transmigrated into the game.

So I really had transmigrated into the character built on the developer account.

Thank god. The attribute values are intact.

Inside the game, ordinary character attributes were only Stamina and Agility, and a brand-new character started both at 1-Star. But because this was a developer account, I had arbitrarily added one more attribute and assigned it to Black Leopard Divine Guest. I had created an attribute called Resistance and given the character its maximum value of 10-Star. I had also set Stamina and Agility to the maximum of 10-Star.

Which meant that, at least inside Murim Noona, I was the fastest character in existence.

Skills like Lust God's Insight, Lust God's Artifact, and Lust God's Domain were ones I had been able to add only because I was the developer — skills designed to make testing the game easier.

"What's this? There's an item called Lust God's Black Casket."

An item I had never owned. Something I had never even seen.

"Don't tell me the enhancement actually succeeded?"

The item enhancement I had attempted right before I blacked out. An enhancement with such a nightmarish success rate that no one had ever pulled it off — and it looked like it had worked.