Closed Beta Launch! (2)

It had been quite some time since fully immersive virtual reality games first hit the market.

People had long since abandoned the joy of carrying a team with a flurry of keyboard clicks and mouse flicks, diving headfirst into the thrill of carrying with every twitch and lunge inside a capsule.

Under ordinary circumstances, the launch of Fantasy of Galicia should have been met with little more than a shrug — oh, another decent game dropped.

But the players who had taken their first taste through the closed beta, and the onlookers watching them, had ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a very special reason to set both the game and the community ablaze with shock and awe.

"Front of the village! Looking for people to hunt rabbit mushrooms! Only those who've fully learned the combat tutorial!"

"Need a guide on how to unlock Elisha's affection stage two! Super urgent!"

"Looking for mining buddies. Apparently there's a low chance of getting finished weapons too!"

"Where do you even start the fishing rod acquisition quest?"

"Hit blacksmith level three and I unlocked a combat skill! Make way for the hammer!"

"Soft Atelier is buying alchemy materials in bulk! Under-the-table deals welcome! Looking for lots of support from all you moneybags!"

Freedom.

Unlike other games that handed players a clear directive — defeat the enemy and claim victory — this one offered the freedom to enjoy whatever direction you pleased.

Not the unfriendly kind of freedom found in something like Galicia Online, either. This was freedom backed by proper tutorials, beginner assists, and a guiding hand for newcomers.

Players who valued the experience of growth could naturally grab whatever weapon they wanted, gather in small groups near the city, and thrash monsters to their hearts' content.

Players who loved communication ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠could chat with other players — or with NPCs so intelligent you had to wonder if they were real people.

And players who still held a soft spot for life skills could look at the wide-open menu of gathering, sewing, alchemy, smithing, and more, and smile with pure happiness.

You could do whatever you wanted.

"Hold it! Did you just steal my things?"

"Tch. Got caught."

"Guards! Guards!"

You could even commit crimes.

Of course, the moment you were caught, your nickname flared red above your head, and before you'd even run far the city guard would throw you in jail.

"Heh heh. Still, my thievery proficiency went up…"

Being able to do something with a penalty attached, versus being systemically blocked from doing it at all.

They might seem similar, but when it came to building immersion, the difference was enormous.

Se-rin's true feelings leaned toward stamping out criminal behavior as much as possible… but people couldn't always be expected to pursue only good-aligned paths, could they?

Still, every countermeasure related to the gravest crimes — murder and the like — had already been put in place. And if NPCs ever suffered serious harm from player theft or similar acts, the goddess herself would step in to mediate. A certain degree of protection for the natives was guaranteed.

For now, that authority belonged to the goddess alone…

Cloaked in invisibility, Se-rin strolled through the streets.

Everywhere she looked, scenes that sent a warm jolt through her memories unfolded around her.

"Youngja, scatter the rabbit skins!"

A voice rising from the grassy fields around the village, where the monster respawn rate had been set a little low.

"Grass porridge! Grass porridge!"

"Join the Grass Porridge Religion guild! Free grass porridge for everyone!"

"Buy a statue! No stats, but it's cute!"

"Buy one, get one free!"

Voices that seemed determined to recreate the landscapes of the novels Se-rin had grown up reading, beat for beat.

"You're a newbie, right? I'm here to help you."

…And even a voice that sounded like it had impure intentions mixed in.

Something felt a little off about that last one, but the whole spectacle still made Se-rin's heart go soft and warm.

In a slightly better mood, she flicked her fingers.

Pop-pop-POW!

Bang!

Enormous fireworks burst across the city's daytime sky, seizing every gaze at once. Then the sparks transformed into flower petals, scattering warmly across the earth.

Not a cherry blossom ending — a cherry blossom opening.

"Whoa! Free loot!"

She thought she heard Yoo Seol's voice from somewhere, but Se-rin ignored it and watched the faces of the crowd.

Curiosity.

Excitement.

Awe.

Happiness.

And…

Joy.

As something resembling a creator, it was a sight that looked far too good.

If you divided RPG content into the most extreme categories, there were two kinds.

Vertical content and horizontal content.

Vertical content focused on the joy of growth. Leveling up, enhancing gear, strengthening your character — then using that power to overcome challenges that once felt impossible, delivering that electric rush of achievement.

Horizontal content, on the other hand, focused on the joy of variety. Content designed so anyone could freely access and enjoy it, regardless of level or whether they participated in combat at all — free from the rat race of gear competition.

The most important factor in an RPG's longevity was the harmony between these two.

Push competition too hard and players would burn out. Offer nothing but shallow horizontal content and they'd fall into the trap of so… what do I do now?

How well you blended and served both kinds of content was no exaggeration to call the measure of a game's success and popularity.

On the horizontal front, Fantasy of Galicia had succeeded in offering choices so complete and colorful that every lifestyle player's dreams could come true.

But what was the essence of an RPG, in the end?

Getting stronger. Defeating powerful enemies.

If the vertical content wasn't fun, no amount of rich horizontal content could save it from putting the cart before the horse.

And…

"Big one's coming! Watch out!"

"I'll tank it! Shield Charge!"

"Mage! How long on that cast?!"

"Darker than darkness, blacker than black, my crimson…"

"Dude, you're casting Fireball and you're doing a full chant?!"

So far, everyone was more than satisfied.

The pleasure of cutting down weak monsters. The fun of an elite monster suddenly appearing and drawing in a whole crowd of people who hadn't even formed a party, all cooperating on the fly.

"It dropped! A ring!"

"What are the options?"

"Two lines… and both Strength! Hahahaha!"

Labor deserved its reward, after all. The electric thrill and dopamine hit of a good drop were all there.

Of course, even the player currently leading the pack — a certain suspiciously map-savvy female mage — had only just hit level seven. Reaching the closed beta's level cap of fifty would still take an enormous amount of time.

But the players felt that fact keenly enough.

Was it distant? Overwhelming?

Not at all!

They had only just left the city, still drunk on the pure pleasure of VR RPG combat.

Those who were naturally athletic in real life, or who had honed their twitch-carry skills in other VR games, trusted entirely in their own ability. Everyone else simply endured the mild embarrassment of shouting an activation phrase and let the game's assist system bring out their character's personality.

Most players had unlocked only a single class so far — but even that was enough to produce a rich variety of combat styles.

What if they reached a higher rank in their class?

What if they mixed it with another class for synergy?

Endless expectations for the future swallowed every trace of overwhelm, leaving their eyes sparkling.

.

.

.

Of course, not everyone was happy with their first choice…

"Hey, damn it, should I just quit now? I can't do this…"

Zero — Lee Han-byul — wore a face on the verge of tears.

The most basic classes, available to anyone with no special conditions beyond completing the tutorial: Swordsman, Magician, Archer, Cleric.

There were other classes whose conditions could only be met by wandering the field without choosing any profession at all, but the vast majority picked one of the four. Lee Han-byul had chosen Archer.

Critical hits only triggered by striking the weak points every monster possessed. And the condition required landing one with pure physical skill — no Assist, no system help. A sizable prize hung on that condition.

Archer-type classes appeared in most RPGs, but a bow was never an easy weapon for ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠beginners.

The strength to draw the string taut and hold it. The fine control over hand tremors until the moment of release. And since there was no hit-scan, you inevitably had to predict your target's movement too.

Just shooting already left her arm muscles aching and tight — and now she had to hit a weak point?

"Hyaaah!"

With a battle cry, the arrow left Lee Han-byul's fingers — and missed not only the mushroom rabbit's weak point but anywhere near it, clattering uselessly to the ground.

She had been repeating this for an hour and fifteen minutes already.

"Well… at least the exp is going up…"

Her character level wasn't rising directly, but fulfilling the act of shooting a bow was steadily stacking Archer class experience. That was her small consolation.

You had to gain something even from failure, after all.

Watching everything unfold exactly as she had intended, Se-rin let a satisfied smile curl at the corner of her lips.

Tossing a little more "safe investment" onto the pile to sweeten ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the fun was just a bonus.

Of the 1,004 closed beta lottery winners, roughly 800 were currently logged in. Some poor souls couldn't connect due to school, work, or time zones — but aside from them, nearly everyone was online, enjoying their adventure in Galicia.

The churn rate was practically zero!

She had imagined people loving the product she'd poured her soul into, of course — but seeing it reflected in hard numbers made Se-rin feel like she could float right up into the sky.

So far there had been no problems, no unexpected variables. Keep this up and they might actually reach god-tier game status — hundreds of thousands of concurrent users. No, millions. Maybe more.

"Heh heh…"

She let out a dopey little laugh worthy of Elisha herself, completely unaware, just grinning ear to ear.

…Or so it went.

As the great sage Jirobo once said: gather five people and one of them is bound to be weird. With eight hundred outsiders pouring in all at once, it was impossible for nothing to go wrong.

Se-rin! Se-riiiiin!

Elisha's voice rang inside her head, and Se-rin tilted hers in confusion.

It's an emergency! At the temple…!

At the temple, what?

Elisha making a fuss wasn't exactly a new development, so Se-rin simply exercised her divine authority and teleported straight to the temple.

And then.

"…What the fuck?"

Confronted with a scene she had never anticipated in her wildest dreams, she let slip a vulgarity utterly unfit for a goddess's dignity.