Chapter 1
Chapter 1
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 1
Chapter Title: Chapter 1
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Jicheol tossed his bag aside the moment he got home and hit the power button.
What else was there to do after getting off work? Same as always—fire up the gallery and voice chat first.
Too lazy to change, he just shrugged off his jacket, quickly washed his feet while the PC booted up, and dropped into his chair.
His friends list was clustered with the usual eye-searing nicknames.
These were the die-hards clinging to this utter shitshow of a dead game, one that hadn't seen a sequel in over ten years.
Their numbers kept shrinking—now under a hundred—but what was left was the purest essence. Hardcore vets, all Grandmaster or higher.
Without a word, he hopped into the channel and waited.
Speak of the devil. Moments later, his expected opponent slid in.
A quick peek at the gallery, and sure enough, some bastard had already posted a live thread.
Tapping the tab, he saw spectators trickling in one by one.
Gonna lag if too many watch... Jicheol shook off the thought and focused on the game.
His opponent's dwarf was charging with a dagger held reverse-grip.
No way was he giving a rogue that distance with a heavy weapon in hand.
To shake the foe off, he swung his weapon right away.
The giant hoisted his weapon sky-high and brought the massive sword crashing down.
As if nothing in its path—shield, helm, whatever—mattered; he'd cleave it all in two.
His opponent, the dwarf facing the blade, looked tiny by comparison.
The wooden shield the dwarf held was small, too.
And crude to match.
It looked ready to shatter alongside the dwarf's flesh at any second.
But the dwarf didn't flee.
Instead, he slammed his flimsy wooden shield straight into the greatsword's path.
A blue glow lingered at the end of the plunging arc, intertwining with the greatsword's swing and the shield's tiny trajectory.
Clang!
It was a technique that felt utterly unreal.
The shield, sucked in like a magnet at the motion's end, pulled off the impossible.
The dwarf's shield was pathetically makeshift—more plank than proper shield.
Cracks everywhere, on the verge of collapse.
Yet the brutal slash's arc had bent, while the dwarf and his shield stood firm.
The technique didn't end there. And it wasn't one-sided.
The giant's thick arms, raised to the heavens, trailed a blue halo as they snapped back to his chest.
An unnatural motion, skipping steps, but the follow-up flowed smoothly.
Attack. Then another.
A barrage like gaps between moves had been sliced away, raining down relentlessly.
The giant stood over 2 meters in plate armor and helm, but wore a gauntlet only on his left arm and greaves on his legs—no pants.
The dwarf was under a meter tall, shirtless in just undies.
His exposed skin was a vivid hue.
Half-naked purple giant versus fully pink dwarf? Hardly a looker, either of them.
The endless exchange of blows suddenly halted.
The turning point: the dwarf's shield unleashing a perfect counter.
Compared to the giant's iron slab, it was like a mere fan swipe.
And "fan swipe" nailed it—the motion looked just like flapping in the wind.
Yet that limp strike deflected the massive cleave, toppled the giant, and sealed the duel.
Thud!
Blade tip met shield edge with precision, and chaos erupted. The dwarf's flung shield swept away the swirling light trails.
The clash produced not the usual metal ring, but an offbeat sound effect.
"Fuck!!"
-"Pffft, that's hilarious for real."
Jicheol's face twisted as he slammed his shotgun mic.
Rage boiled inside.
I have to win—that's all it took: nailing every timing action, pulling every dirty trick, sweating buckets to stack advantages bit by bit. And that bastard just parried through, then offset once for the freebie win.
He'd twisted and turned for every gain, but the opponent flipped it with selfish one-shot opportunism.
This a game?
Jicheol scowled and grumbled, but his foe was too busy savoring victory to listen.
"...I've been busy lately, hands are rusty."
-"Friend, excuses aren't cool. Your skills are slipping these days..."
-Bam!
"Shit..."
-"Uahaha!!"
He pounded his innocent desk, only feeding laughter across Discord.
"Fucking hell..."
Tears welled in Jicheol's eyes.
This utter shitshow of a game had rocked the world eleven years back—back when he was still a middle schooler.
Then updates dried up around when he hit adulthood.
Launch had been wild with its bold mechanics, which was why Jicheol gladly poured his youth into it...
But over ten years with no sequel news, no updates since five years ago, ranked matches turned to braindead parry spam like breathing.
Textbook dead game now.
Users who'd even done offline meets back in the day? All bailed for other games, leaving only fossils like him.
If it hadn't been a god game, even he wouldn't be fiddling with this corpse like it was his ballsack...
Back then, 10th anni hype lingered, some salmon left...
That fiasco yanked the plug; playerbase tanked.
Thinking of it still chills his spine.
"Fuck. Gets me mad all over again."
How do you announce sequel plans then ghost screenshots for six years?
Mass layoffs with zero statement?
How does a 20-year IP treat fans like dog chow?
Jicheol gnashed his teeth and hammered the keyboard.
Truth was, Jicheol loved this dead game to death.
Since age seven, borrowing a neighbor bro's console for his first Odin's Son—most of his life as a fanboy.
Straightforward systems, balanced weapons down to the details, range fights like a fighter, stamina tying it all neat.
Everything his jam.
From sidescroller 2D Thor: Odin's Son, to 3D Heimdall: Odin's Son, the open-world flop Baldr: Odin's Son—100% achievements all.
Tyr: Odin's Son reset the series, hit global, called god game, domestic smash—he celebrated like his own win.
Dove in headfirst, of course. Exam scores tanked that year? Pure bliss back then.
Jicheol gave it his youth.
Combo practice felt life-or-death; met online buds IRL. Dull dudes chugging beers, yelling about weak races, voice chatting overnight, theorycrafting builds.
Top thrill: his all-nighter build hitting front page.
Life was Odin's Son; love paid off with world rank #1 points. Pure joy.
Made the fall all the bitterer.
Half his life this shit game...
Work stole other hobbies; no joy left but this, and it's like this...
Jicheol vented fury into the keys.
Lee Jin-cheol.
27, mid-level office drone.
Odin's Son Minor Gallery Lord.
Current world rank #2 in Odin's Son Arena.
The man who saw through Backside best.
He had no clue.
"Fuck, what is this?"
He shouldn't have said it. No clue.
And for that ignorance, everything flipped overnight.
"Fuck, what the hell is this?"
The curse slipped out, answered by an unfamiliar voice.
Not his booze-and-smokes gravel, but clear, delicate—woman's.
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