The Game That Mirrors My World
“Kang Hanbit! Mom’s heading out!”
“Ugh……”
He cracked his eyes open at the booming voice. Hot sunlight poured through the thin curtains over the window.
“Ugh, my stomach’s killing me.”
Kang Hanbit clutched his head against the hangover and dragged himself out of bed. The apartment was silent when he opened his door—his mother had already left for work.
Pour, pour. He filled a cup with water from the pitcher and slumped at the kitchen table. His army uniform lay crumpled in the laundry basket on the balcony.
“All because of that damn goddess……”
Two years ago, Hanbit had been sucked into a light and returned exactly to the day he’d been kidnapped. His family, friends, surroundings—everything was the same, and the world was as peaceful as he remembered.
Except for one thing: it was the day before he enlisted.
“How many times do I have to serve in the army?”
Out of dozens of regressions, possessions, and reincarnations, he’d been a soldier five times. Including this one, that made six tours of duty. And enlisting at 25 made it all the more miserable.
All thanks to that cursed goddess.
“Hoo.”
Hanbit soothed his churning gut and slumped in his chair. Somehow, he’d made it through his discharge unscathed. Thanks to his otherworldly experience, army life had been a breeze.
Now he had just one problem on his plate.
“Getting a job’s gonna be rough.”
Hanbit had experiences no one else could dream of. The issue was they were useless on this ordinary Earth—swordsmanship, magic, monsters, that sort of thing from another world. His long-forgotten college major was a lost cause no matter how much time he poured in.
At least the army had gotten him in shape.
Bzzz. His phone vibrated from the bedroom.
Hanbit stared blankly at the ceiling before hauling his heavy body up to grab it.
「Juyeonu」
「Hyung, drinks again tonight?」
The short message lit up the screen. His fellow soldier of four months, five years his junior. They’d gotten blackout drunk celebrating Hanbit’s discharge just ten hours ago.
「You maniac. Hyung’s old and broken.」
Hanbit typed a casual reply and flopped face-first onto the bed. Another buzz hit immediately.
Bzz. Bzzz.
「What, that’s all you got?」
「Scared?」
「Scared?」
“Haa.”
The vibrations and taunting texts kept coming nonstop. Juyeonu was pushing his luck hard, but to Hanbit, he was a godsend.
The disconnect and emotional turmoil from returning from another world, the chaos of army life—Juyeonu had made it all surprisingly fun.
Bzzz. As Hanbit’s worries dragged on, another vibration came through.
「Drinks was a joke. Got a discharge gift for you. Aren’t you curious?」
“A gift?”
His eyebrows shot up at the welcome word. Hanbit grabbed his phone and fired back.
「Where we meeting?」
***
“Hyung!”
In a café in Incheon’s Bupyeong-gu, Hanbit spotted Juyeonu after taking the bus.
“A café? You hate coffee.”
“Their chocolate parfait’s killer. Got one for you too.”
He grinned like it was the best thing ever. Hanbit was used to it by now—Juyeonu never lost that smile through their whole army stint. The parfait had melted into slush, though.
“How early did you get here?”
“Whoa, it’s a puddle. I’ll order a fresh one.”
“Nah, it’s fine. Just eat it.”
Hanbit pressed Juyeonu’s shoulder to keep him seated. He took a sip and cut to the chase.
“So, what’s the gift?”
“Straight to the gift? I’m hurt.”
“Then I’m heading home.”
“Wait, wait! Fine, fine.”
Juyeonu grabbed Hanbit’s sleeve in a panic. He knew Hanbit always followed through on his words.
“Here.”
From his bag, Juyeonu pulled out a white card stamped with “Lv.2”.
“What’s this?”
“Remember I told you about that super fun game?”
“RP?”
“Knew you’d remember.”
Record Project. Commonly called RP, it was a VR game launched right after Hanbit enlisted. He’d heard about it from Juyeonu and the news.
<The Tycoon’s Legacy: A Game That Shakes the World.>
Michael Welton, chairman of Tentia—the world’s top company by market cap—had passed five years ago. His hidden legacy was revealed: the team “Zero” behind Record Project posted an announcement at midnight on their site. It included Welton’s will and shocking details about the game……
The secret VR game from the tycoon sent shockwaves. Keywords like “god’s technology,” “scientific revolution,” “new era.” The world’s first—and only—perfect VR game was on everyone’s lips.
“What’s RP got to do with it?”
“This card gets you RP gear.”
“Gear? That pricey stuff?”
RP required special equipment to play. News said performance varied by price, and shady third-party makers were popping up using the official tech.
“Lv.2 means discounts bring it to about five million won. It’s a gift—no pressure.”
Juyeonu’s face was straight as he explained. Made sense—he was born with a silver spoon.
He lived in a different world from Hanbit, who agonized over ordering a whole chicken.
“Your place need security? Hook me up with a job.”
“For real? We’ve got tons of empty rooms.”
“……”
A joke got a dead-serious reply. Juyeonu seemed ready to cut a paycheck, but no way.
Hanbit pushed the card back. “Nah. We’re gonna play together anyway, right? I don’t have time. Internship starts right away.”
The debts from his late father had taken his mother twenty years alone to pay off. Even in that hell, she’d raised her only son with everything she had.
Hanbit wanted to repay that sacrifice ASAP.
“When’d you even apply? Interviews?”
“Found one during end-of-service leave. Experiential internship, but every line on the self-intro counts.”
“Hyung, you’re…… insane. In a good way.”
Juyeonu was speechless, remembering Hanbit’s army antics.
“What’s insane? Job hunters are always hustling.”
“You worked side gigs on every leave and outing. Sent it all to your mom.”
“Better than blowing it. Couldn’t without the company commander’s okay.”
Few in the unit knew Hanbit’s situation. It was a remote independent company, and the commander was a saint—hooked him up with local jobs through connections.
“What’d your mom say? Mine would’ve cried.”
“……She didn’t spend a won. Opened a separate account and saved it all.”
“Whoa…… like a drama family.”
Hanbit’s army efforts went to waste. He’d disguised the cash as leftover pay, but Mom saw through it. Now it sat pretty in a fresh account.
“Anyway, no game. Gotta hustle harder now.”
“Hustle harder? You need a clone for that.”
“Wish. Gotta show up to school sometimes.”
“You’ve got credits to graduate—just pop in. RP’s awesome. Weekends at least?”
Juyeonu knew Hanbit’s life inside out and wouldn’t back down. RP wasn’t just fun; it was special.
“Sell it used and buy all the chicken? Take it back.”
Hanbit forced the card into Juyeonu’s hand. The downcast face made him sigh.
“You’ll regret it for real……”
“Does gaming pay bills? Earth Online’s my priority. Got it?”
“Exactly—if it makes money.”
Juyeonu grinned through the nagging, lifting his head. Hanbit knew the gloom was fake—what was the catch?
“Obviously. Pull a grand or ten thousand, and you’re eating a fist.”
“C’mon, that’s kid stuff even elementary schoolers’d scoff at.”
“……One punch, for real.”
“Whoa, wait! Why?!”
Hanbit stood, grabbed Juyeonu’s head, and shook. Settling back, he pressed.
“So, real money?”
“Dizzy…… Yeah, for real. Good luck? Billions…… no, hundreds of billions.”
“……Billions?”
The dizzying sum chased off Hanbit’s hangover. Juyeonu joked a lot, but never bluffed like this.
Straightening up, Hanbit got serious. “Spill it, Sergeant Juyeonu.”
“Sure thing, Corporal Kang Hanbit?”
Grinning, Juyeonu slapped his smartphone on the table. An app glowed on the screen.
“RP Trader—Record Project’s marketplace app.”
“Trading? Like items?”
“Anything. Items, info, hires—whatever you need.”
Screens flipped by in explanation. Dense lists crammed the feeds. The real eye-catchers? The prices—billions, just like he said.
“These are real deals?”
“Why call it a revolution otherwise? RP’s on another level.”
“Hah.”
Hanbit couldn’t look away. After staring, he frowned. “Why blow that much on a game?”
“Over 300 million registered users. Corps and celebs flock in. Massive market’s natural.”
“Corps too? It’s a game.”
“RP’s global influence? Rankings are free ads. But the big one……”
Juyeonu swiped to the Record Project homepage announcement.
<Record Project Clear Reward>
Per founder Michael Welton’s will, the first player to clear Record Project receives full ownership. Scope includes copyrights, IP, trademarks, licenses, code, tech, services, operations, etc. Bound by player consent at account creation as legal contract. Guaranteed by three international arbitration bodies listed in terms.
“……This was real? They give away the whole game?”
Hanbit vaguely recalled the news. Absurd—clear a game, own it? With billions of users, the value was unimaginable.
“Not clickbait?”
“Verified. Lawyers confirmed, arbiters issued guarantees.”
“Unbelievable.”
Still sank in weird, but legit. Key point: real market, real money.
“Fine. I’ll try it.”
“For real?”
“Worst case, no loss. You went this far.”
“Knew you’d join.”
Juyeonu beamed. He’d wanted Hanbit in since army days. Loved fantasy stuff—magic, swordplay topics flowed easy. Only this hyung joined in earnestly. His obscure knowledge stash was nuts.
“Need an otaku like you.”
“Told you I’m not.”
“Just own it—easier.”
Grinning, Juyeonu slurped the melted parfait. Standing, he grabbed his bag.
“Let’s go?”
***
They cabbed to Yeongdeungpo, Seoul. The spot: a funky blue-glass building with “Record Shop” blazoned up top.
“What’s this?”
“RP merch buy/sell spot.”
“Merch?”
“Official stuff, player goods.”
Juyeonu bounded up the stairs. Hanbit followed, eyeing the weird build.
“It’s huge.”
“US branch’d knock you out. Western otakus are savage.”
“Yeah?”
He’d heard about “yangdeok” passion. Hard to get fully, but market size made sense. He’d worship anyone dropping billions on his items.
Swish. Juyeonu weaved the crowds like a pro.
“Here.”
A room packed with books.
“Books?”
“Guidebooks.”
Racks of identical copies upfront. Hanbit pulled one—author: Adventure A.
“Who’s Adventure A?”
“Newbie savior. Tons would’ve quit without it.”
Juyeonu gushed excitedly. Impressive game knowledge—could solo ahead, yet here he was.
Hanbit was quietly impressed. Naming sense was iffy, though.
“Impressive guy.”
“Right? Check it—neat summaries. Worlds organized perfectly……”
“Got it—chill.”
Hanbit reined in the hype and flipped it open. Clean background art, concise TOC beside.
Flip. Maps and terrain next.
But.
“Huh?”
Hanbit’s face twisted oddly.
“Hyung?”
“No……”
He couldn’t answer properly. The continents, seas—too familiar for first sight. Place names? All known.
“……Erport?”
An unforgettable name jumped out as he turned pages. The unknown entity he’d chased per the goddess’s will. Never saw its face.
“Fuck, what the hell is this.”
Frantically rifling the guidebook, Hanbit cursed. Countless matches to his vivid memories.
Impossible to deny.
This game. Record Project was identical to the world he’d looped through regressions, possessions, reincarnations.