Chapter 1

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Translator: penny

Chapter: 001

Chapter Title: Either the Truman Show, or the App is Real

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Lee Seon-ha.

Born under his parents' wish for him to become a good and righteous person, twenty-one years had passed in the blink of an eye.

Last year, he started living alone in a neighborhood about two subway stops away from the university he attended.

And now, in his second year.

In the spring, a few days after the semester began.

"Yes, Director. I'm sorry, but with my assignments, it's hard for me to come help out this month too..."

—We're really short-handed... But if you're busy with studies, there's no helping it. Please come if you find the time.

"Of course. I'll let you know then."

I left home early for a morning lecture and turned down the Orphanage Director's request for help before hanging up. Lately, since I'd been going less and less, the calls were coming more frequently.

It wasn't like I was an orphanage alum getting these calls. I'd just tagged along with my mom on volunteer work since I was little, and the connection had stuck.

And we'd done a ton of it. By twenty-one, my cumulative volunteer hours had easily surpassed a thousand.

You might wonder how that's possible, but I started volunteering in elementary school. Over more than ten years, I'd spent entire weekends on it, and as a kid, even weekdays pretty often.

Even up until last year, when my parents moved down to the countryside where my brother worked and I started living alone, I'd kept at it quite a bit.

Was it because I was innately good-hearted and brimming with volunteer spirit? ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Absolutely not.

'I only did it because they'd give me allowance money if I behaved and helped out with the volunteering.'

Basically, pocket money was the bait. When I tagged along and helped my mom, she'd give me cash like it was hourly pay.

Even people other than my mom would hand me money for being such a good kid, shower me with praise, and cut me all sorts of slack. No reason not to do it.

Plus, when I got into university, it helped me score big in the special admissions interview. I don't know the exact points, but I figure that's how it went. The interviewers were shocked to see my volunteer hours already over a thousand back then.

Anyway.

The reason I'd done so much volunteering was that it always benefited me somehow.

And that's the same reason I'd started turning down calls like this lately and slacking off. I'd always skipped the really annoying days anyway, but the biggest thing was that the perks had dwindled.

Once I hit a thousand hours, piling on more didn't make much impact. My mom still thought I was hustling and gave me plenty of allowance, though.

That said, I didn't quit volunteering entirely. I'd drop by once in a while when I was bored.

I didn't have any hobbies I was obsessed with, and while I played games, I didn't do it all day. I liked hanging out with people, sure.

And besides.

−Click.

"Have a safe trip."

"I'll be back soon. Shouldn't take more than a week."

"Okay. Drive carefully."

I wasn't like those two just stepping out of the apartment across from mine, flaunting their passionate affection with a wife or girlfriend.

So, on days when I wasn't too lazy and had no plans with friends, I'd head out for some volunteering.

The gains were small, but steadily racking them up wasn't a bad thing. If jobs got tough later, I could always pivot that way.

"Mwah!"

Of course, if I'd had a girlfriend clinging to me like that and acting all cute, I'd have ditched volunteering for dates, no question.

'But isn't living together like this a hassle? This place is technically a 1.5-room, so they've got separate bedrooms...'

They both looked at least in their thirties, and from snippets I'd overheard, they ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠were married. Still, I always wondered whenever I saw them.

I snuck a sidelong glance at the woman plastered to the man, her expression a bit dim but endearing.

Big breasts, big hips, tiny waist—an absurdly ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠perfect body. Her face had a slightly vacant vibe, but she was pretty anyway. Her long straight hair tied to one side gave off a neat, elegant feel that suited her.

Above all, just the fact she was a pretty married woman in her early thirties oozed sex appeal.

I gave her a quick once-over, then stepped into the arriving elevator, letting go of any lingering glances.

Whatever.

The guy was handsome too, so they matched. As for housing, you could always start in a studio if money was tight.

Not like it was any of my business anyway.

"Yawn..."

Yawning, I trudged blankly toward university. I went through the motions of school mechanically, but every day felt incredibly dull. Even hanging out with friends was fun only in the moment; afterward, with no real hobbies, it was empty.

If I'd been handsome, I'd have dated up a storm, but sadly, that was out of reach too.

I wasn't ugly, and I wasn't fat either, but that was it. Nothing more.

Thanks to my naturally upbeat nature, I smiled a lot, which gave me a pleasant impression that some people liked, but it stopped at "nice guy."

Not the type women go for.

"Nothing to do, huh..."

Walking slowly to the humanities building for my first lecture, I pulled out my smartphone, thinking I'd at least find a casual phone game to kill time during liberal arts class.

I unlocked the pattern, about to dive into the game store app.

"......? What's this?"

There was an app on my home screen I'd never installed.

[ Good Deed Gacha App ]

The name made me snort. Whoever named it had zero sense, and it was vague enough to be hard to even grasp.

No way I'd installed this crap, so probably some backdoor app snuck in during a search.

Running it seemed risky, so I long-pressed to delete it. But the uninstall option that should have popped up didn't.

"Can't even delete it? Chinese apps are getting wild these days."

I sighed and lifted my finger. The screen lit up, and the app launched.

"Ah, crap."

I fumbled to close it in a panic, but my hand froze.

The boredom that had gripped me sparked curiosity: what the hell was this app?

My phone didn't have anything worth stealing anyway, and even if it did, nothing critical.

The banking app nagged at me a bit, but with a near-zero balance and tight withdrawal/transfer limits, it should be fine.

Moments later, a single line appeared on the screen.

The hairs on my arms stood up the instant I saw it. First time running a strange app, and my name was right there.

But soon, I thought: a backdoor app could've scraped just a name. Or maybe it hacked me and pulled personal info to display.

Heart pounding from the initial shock, I hurried to the lecture hall anyway. I sat in a corner seat and checked the screen again.

I hadn't imagined it. The stark white screen proudly displayed the message.

Logically, I knew the smartest move was to close it and delete the app somehow. But for some reason, I didn't want to.

I naturally filled in the blank below.

[Sex]

I chuckled softly, then erased it right away. Wasn't like I'd thought it out; my fingers just moved on their own while pondering.

It seemed like a backdoor anyway, so no need to take it seriously.

I typed slowly, letter by letter.

[Fun]

Then hit confirm.

The light blinked, and soon new messages scrolled onto the screen.

"Whoa, it even recognized what I wrote and deleted?"

An exclamation slipped out unbidden. Too sophisticated for just a Chinese app.

Meanwhile, more lines appeared one by one.

The tutorial ended, revealing a simple UI.

[User Info (Lv.1)]

[Target Info]

[Random Gacha]

[Owned Cards]

[Shop (Locked)]

A clean screen with nothing fancy, just as described.

The liberal arts lecture had already started, but from my inconspicuous corner seat, I was glued to the app like I'd been hypnotized.

First up: [User Info].

"......"

Basic info, nothing special. But I realized I was getting hooked on the app. Could be an elaborate prank, but my gut said it wasn't that simple.

With slightly trembling fingers, I exited user info and checked target info next. Right in the center: [Lookup Info].

'It said one free lookup, right?'

Fear of the unknown app? Curiosity? Anticipation? No single word captured my feelings. I pressed it firmly, and a message popped up.

I looked up immediately, scanning the room: the professor lecturing leisurely up front, students listening.

Since it was probably junk or a backdoor, anyone would do, but it felt wasteful to blow the free one. Shockingly, I believed this ridiculous app and its nonsense at least 10%.

Couldn't say why.

Maybe curiosity about a backdoor like nothing I'd seen. Or a modern guy's faint thrill at hoping for something supernatural in a corner of his heart.

Not "no way."

But "I hope so."

Scanning excitedly, my eyes landed on a woman with long blonde hair at the front of the lecture hall. Not exactly an acquaintance... more like someone famous.

'Lee Eun-chae. The department top's carry machine.'

She had a rep for being rude, but her dyed blonde hair, sharp-yet-pretty face that matched it, model-like height and slim figure made her infamous among peers.

I'd never bothered getting close to her prickly personality, but personally, I kinda liked her.

Why?

In group projects, if I just pulled my exact one share, she'd handle everything from organizing to presenting like a beast!

She'd take leader role, assign tasks, and as long as you did yours, she wouldn't complain. No reason for me to hate that.

Sure, she was hard to talk to, but I figured the bitchy rumors came from guys she'd shot down and jealous girls. I'd hardly ever seen her interact with others anyway.

Target selected. Visualizing Lee Eun-chae, I hit lookup.

No delay at all—info displayed instantly.

The moment I saw the text laid out before me, I thought:

This was either a national Truman Show targeting me.

Or.

This app was the real deal.