Drawing the Big Picture - 1

The very first thing to greet Sanghyuk upon launching Eternal Life was a warning prompt. Under regulations enacted in 2024, all content on the Dream Network was legally required to display a recommended VRA score, and for most titles, a score of around 80 was standard. Even demanding experiences rarely asked for more than 100 to 120. In that context, EL's baseline requirement was staggering. Combined with a strict age restriction that barred anyone under eighteen, the game had erected a formidable barrier to entry right at its front door.

Eventually, however, even those with subpar VRA would gladly endure the handicap just to play. The game was simply too intoxicating to ignore. Despite being an adult-only title rather than a game for all ages, EL would go on to break every record in virtual reality gaming history, maintaining an unprecedented count of concurrent players for years to come.

It was a masterpiece, but to genuinely experience everything it had to offer, a player needed a VRA of at least 150. That steep threshold gave rise to a massive demographic of "watching users"—spectators who never logged in themselves, choosing instead to follow pro gamers' live streams.

EL wasn't just phenomenal to play; it was just as captivating to watch.

If one had to pinpoint why EL attained such runaway success, it was partly due to its addictive, peerless gameplay, but equally due to the pure entertainment derived from simply observing someone else navigate its world.

Though right now, at this very moment... it's practically a dead game.

Sanghyuk took a moment to imagine the grim, dejected faces of the staff over at Raon Soft. If it were up to him, he would have called Raon Soft directly to buy up their unlisted shares. But he knew very little about off-market equity trading, and even in their current slump, the developers were backed by deep-pocketed financiers and had no reason to sell. He chose not to waste energy on pointless greed.

While his mind wandered, the system transitioned to the account creation phase.

"Immortal."

It might not entirely fit the high-fantasy aesthetic of EL, but it was an alias Sanghyuk had always longed to claim. In his past life, he had settled for something mundane—Tempest Dance. This time, he wanted an identity that carried weight.

In EL, up to one hundred players could share the exact same character name. However, everyone who registered after the original owner had an internal code attached to their handle, which had to be specified whenever the system handled administrative queries or friend requests. If someone else named their character Immortal after him, their ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠backend identifier would read "Second Immortal." While they might display identical nameplates inside the game world, the original claimant stood apart in every meaningful sense.

Once character registration concluded, a blinding pillar of pure white radiance enveloped Sanghyuk. When the brilliance faded, an entirely new world unfurled before his eyes.

A boundless expanse of verdant plains stretched out toward the horizon, its lush green soothing to the senses. To Sanghyuk, the view stirred nostalgia in more ways than one.

The Endless Grassland.

This isolated realm was reserved strictly for first-time arrivals. EL was notorious for its complete lack of hospitality toward beginners. Common courtesies found in other titles—basic game guides, class overviews, even control tutorials—did not exist here. Whenever early players voiced frustration over the utter absence of guidance, the developers at Raon Soft simply repeated the same mantra like a broken record.

Naturally, public backlash had been fierce at first. Yet Raon Soft dug their heels in and refused to budge, leaving players with no choice but to adapt. The very plains Sanghyuk stood on were technically the game's tutorial zone, but because no prompt ever explained that fact, early pioneers had felt immense disappointment upon logging in. Worse still, the zone was unskippable, further masking its true purpose.

That initial disillusionment did not last long, of course. Within twenty-four hours, the most dedicated players powered through to Level 10, escaped the plains, and reached the true continent of Eternal Life. Once they posted community threads detailing what the real game looked like, everyone realized this barren expanse was merely an unannounced staging ground.

In truth, the Endless Grassland held few surprises. It was nothing more than ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠an infinite plain where, every thirty minutes starting from the moment of login, swarms of monsters charged from all directions.

Five minutes prior to each wave, players were granted the opportunity to select an armament. Forty different weapon types would rise from the earth like shimmering apparitions woven from shadow; once chosen, a weapon materialized into solid form and bound itself to the user. A player could swap their weapon before every incoming wave, causing their previous selection to dissolve back into mist. In essence, the mechanic offered a sandbox to experiment with various fighting styles and discover which weapon felt most natural.

After repelling twenty consecutive waves, a new selection arose at the twenty-first: 116 basic skill books sprouted from the soil. Much like the weaponry, these skill books could be swapped freely between waves up until the fortieth onslaught. By the time a player defended against fifty waves, they would naturally cross the threshold into Level 10.

The difficulty of these waves was deliberately trivial. Even someone with zero gaming talent could clear them effortlessly. Players often joked that the Endless Grassland was the only place in all of EL where anyone could experience the thrill of mowing down entire legions single-handedly.

Through this trial, beginners became acquainted with their preferred equipment and abilities before stepping into the true continent, sparing themselves costly blunders later on. Naturally, as the meta matured, future newcomers would skip personal experimentation and simply copy whatever popular builds forum theorycrafters recommended. Even so, the foundational experience provided by the plains remained undeniably valuable.

Tap, tap.

Sanghyuk lightly tapped twice just above his right ear. Several translucent windows flickered into view before him. This physical gesture had been the universal standard for summoning user interfaces across all DN virtual reality titles for the past five years, making it second nature to any veteran diver.

Pinching the interface with two fingers, he brought the quest tab forward and expanded it, checking the countdown until the first wave.

Exactly twenty-seven minutes and twenty-two seconds remaining.

While other players who had logged in at launch were currently stumbling about, trying to make sense of the unfamiliar terrain, Sanghyuk already knew precisely what lay ahead. He stood quietly in place, loosening his muscles and regulating his breathing.

"The Endless Grassland... There are two things I must claim here."

During the year spent waiting for EL to launch, he had mapped out his plans down to the smallest detail. Neither objective would be easy to secure, but he had no intention of leaving this staging ground until both were in his grasp.

"Specifically, one Unique title, and one hidden Rare item."

If someone asked Sanghyuk what mattered most in EL, he would answer without a moment's hesitation: titles. Every seasoned veteran of the game would give the exact same answer. In EL, titles were far more than cosmetic flair. They could be affixed before a character's name as a prefix or after it as a suffix, and many granted potent passive traits that remained permanently active even when unequipped.

Although the maximum number of simultaneously active titles was capped at thirty, that limit alone demonstrated how vital they were compared to any other system in the game. Titles reigned supreme over all other progression mechanics, and Sanghyuk had already handpicked a select few extraordinary titles that he absolutely had to possess.

"First, the title 'Never-Giving-Up Challenger'!"

Bearing the coveted Unique grade, Never-Giving-Up Challenger was an exceedingly rare accolade that could only ever be obtained within the Endless Grassland.

4,444 ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠times.

To acquire the title, one had to die in this very grassland four thousand, four hundred and forty-four times. More precisely, one had to suffer that many deaths without giving up, throwing oneself back into the fray each time.

Under normal circumstances, nobody would ever unlock it. Even a player with abysmal VRA could crush the monsters here with ease; deaths in the Endless Grassland were so rare that not even one in ten thousand novices managed to fall. Suffering over four thousand fatalities at this stage was practically impossible.

In fact, the world had only learned of this title's existence a full decade after EL's release. Raon Soft had unveiled it during the game's tenth-anniversary broadcast, where they showcased five special titles that had long since been purged from the database.

At the time, the developers revealed that ten hidden titles had been coded into the launch build which no player had ever claimed across an ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠entire decade. Five of them were ultimately deleted during various balance patches, leaving only five undiscovered titles still active. Among those five deleted relics was the one Sanghyuk was targeting now: Never-Giving-Up Challenger.

Its rank was Unique—a grade signifying absolute singularity. Only one individual in the entire world could ever possess it. Once Sanghyuk claimed it, no one else could ever obtain it, even if they somehow matched his tally of 4,444 deaths.

Dying 4,444 times in the tutorial zone was an excruciating, mind-numbing ordeal. Yet because Sanghyuk already knew the hidden reward waiting on the other side, he did not hesitate for a single second before throwing his body into the coming storm.

Without future knowledge, no sane human being would have ever attempted such madness.

Death, followed by death.

While the rest of the player base easily cleared the plains and departed for the continent, Sanghyuk remained entirely alone, dying over and over and over again.