Prologue
It all began with a single offhand comment from my close junior.
“Hyung Jina, you play a ton of games, right? We’ve got this project going at the company—could you check it out for me? I’ll email you the file.”
There was no real reason to say no. As the guy said, I already enjoyed games in my downtime, and with my upcoming job switch leaving me with time to burn, it was perfect. I could play around, help out a buddy, and kill two birds with one stone. How great was that?
A few days later, an email pinged in from my close junior. I fired up the game file, but being unfinished, it skipped straight to the action with no intro.
The gist of it? Hunt magical beasts with spells, learn new magic, then hunt more beasts with that. Combat-wise, it was pretty solid. Diverse elements, flashy effects—easy on the eyes. No story was a bummer, but that could come later.
I passed those thoughts along to my close junior, straight up.
“Phew, glad to hear it. I’ll let you know when it officially launches.”
“Sounds good. Good luck.”
It was fun enough that I was actually looking forward to the release. Days turned to weeks, a month flew by, then a year. No word. Finally, I called him up—and got the shock of my life.
“Oh yeah, that project got canned. The bosses just weren’t into it.”
What the hell…?
For that whole year, I’d grinded that unfinished game endlessly, waiting for launch. I could clear it blindfolded, with my feet. And this was the payoff? Unbelievable.
Can’t exactly demand they finish it, though…
Game dev costs a fortune—not something you nag about lightly. Oh well. Time to let it go.
That night, I planned to delete it and move on. No point clinging to an unreleased beta.
But then, something weird happened.
What’s this…?
The game file had changed. New icon, name tagged with ver2. My mouse moved on autopilot. Click—
The world went black.
That was how I ended up possessing this body. When I opened my eyes again, an unfamiliar ceiling greeted me. And so began the life of Franz Gilbert (age 7), the youngest son of Baron Gilbert!
I had a decent grasp of subculture tropes, so I knew the drill for situations like this.
“Status window!”
A staple: the translucent display pops up, granting the protagonist power to overcome trials.
But nope. Not for Franz.
“…”
Franz Gilbert (age 7) plunged into profound disappointment!
But that lasted all of a moment. Think about it—most with status windows started in dank alleys. No window, but born the baron’s youngest on a plush bed? Not bad. Plus points for three squares a day. Extra points for a magic lineage despite the baron title.
My mental score graph climbed from the basement to sunshine. Franz, fully recovered!
Coming to this world should’ve tanked it, but my miraculous “what’s done is done” mindset saved the day.
Anyway, the setup wasn’t awful, so any future screw-ups were on me. Guess that meant working hard.
And work hard I did.
Age 7. Aced dictation, crowned the family ace.
Sneaked into Dad’s study for magic books—busted, got grounded. Mana too unstable; lessons start at 10, apparently.
Age 8. Mastered multiplication. Mom declared me “destined grand mage.” Multiplication and magic? Hell if I know.
Why she became my grand mage advocate remains a mystery.
Age 10. Started 1st Circle magic, realized my talent. Water, fire, wind, earth, light, darkness—all affinities. Magic was a blast; mastered 1st Circle in no time.
Age 13. Onto 3rd Circle, tweaking 1st Circle formulas and chants. Mom’s prophecy gaining believers.
Expectations piled up—no sweat. I thrived under pressure.
Age 15. 5th Circle—full mid-tier mage. Nobility abuzz: youngest 5th Circle ever. Mom promoted to “mother of future grand mage.”
Age 16. Entered the Magic Tower. Talent-wise, could’ve sooner, but age limit delayed me.
Around then, doubts crept in. This game world should’ve had beasts everywhere. But the Demon King was sealed 100 years ago—no beasts anywhere. So… 100 years later?
Still too many unknowns.
Age 17. It hit. Demon King’s seal broke after 100 years of peace. Beasts everywhere, bloodbath. Tower in overdrive: subjugations, rescues—nonstop.
Then it clicked. Not 100 years post-game. Game hadn’t even started.
Age 18. Savior hero appears; party forms around her. Hero, mage, saintess, elf archer. I made mage slot.
Not by choice. Tower geezers, jealous of young talent, shoved me in. “You’re our pride!”—after yesterday’s “cocky kid” gripes. Couldn’t refuse.
Oh well. Damage done. To survive, kill Demon King first. Hero, please be OP—! Meta-praying began.
Age 20. God heard? Yuna (18, hero) carried; party steamrolled. Foes bisected—beast shredder. Party personalities sucked, but post-Demon King, bye forever. Whatever.
Oh, hit 7th Circle too. Party trials helped.
Age 22. Downed one of the Demon King's Four Heavenly Kings. Hero lost arm; saintess griped but reattached. Miracle.
Age 24. Another Heavenly King. Fought three days straight.
Age 26. Demon King + two Heavenly Kings. Pincer attack cornered us. I burned life force on Forbidden Spell. Completed 10th Circle magic—legendary, progenitor-only.
Bought recovery time; humans won. Saintess miracle spared me. Minus 1-2 years lifespan.
After, back to Tower—claimed Master seat. Geezers scowled, but what could they do? Living legend from hero party, perfected 10th Circle.
That’s where Franz—no, Jina’s—knowledge ended. Grind beasts, level magic, slay final boss Demon King. Return home? Or more?
A year passed in rumination. World reeling from Demon King remnants; Tower busy saving it. Franz turned 27. Exactly 20 years possessed.
Finished Tower lord duties, hit the hay.
Uh…?
A bizarre sight: translucent blue window. Showed up now?
But the content…?
Save the world from the villainesses who will lead it to ruin!
Hero Yuna (0.00%)
Saintess Justia (0.00%)
Elf Archer Hera (0.00%)
Failure means the world's destruction!
“Fuck…”
A savory curse slipped out after ages.