Cliche World
The screen faded to black, then words began scrolling upward exactly like the opening crawl of Star Wars. They had gone all-in on the parody right from the start.
Due to the schemes of Osteri, God of the Apocalypse, countless worlds have met their end. Busker, God of Peace and Harmony, has stepped forward to resurrect those ruined worlds.
I couldn’t help but laugh when Elon Busker’s name appeared as a god. Still, the part about reviving game worlds was accurate, so I let it slide.
You must now connect to Cliche World and prevent the world from rushing toward its doom.
Creating character. Please set your appearance.
Since it had scanned my body, a skinny male avatar resembling me appeared. I customized it—shortened the head a bit, lengthened the arms and legs, increased height and muscle mass. I left the black hair and black eyes untouched. Appearance could be changed anytime anyway, so I didn’t stress over it.
Beginning stat distribution. The Guardian of Abilities, Landersius, is exercising authority.
Clatter. Six colorful dice tumbled down from the sky with a clacking sound. These weren’t ordinary six-sided dice; they were ten-sided polyhedral dice marked one through ten.
Each roll will randomly determine your class along with Strength, Intelligence, Magic Power, Agility, Harmony, and Charm.
“Hmm. This feels like old-school TRPGs.”
My first roll gave me Elemental Summoner and a total stat score of 35. The class was decent, but 35 out of a possible 60 was terrible. It reminded me of the dice-grinding stories from the early 2000s Lineage craze—people supposedly rolling for three days straight to hit 19 Strength on a knight. The more mindless the grind, the more it awakened a gamer’s competitive spirit. So I kept rolling.
One hour. Two hours. Three hours…
“Ha!”
I hit 57, but the class was Bare-Handed Martial Artist. Not great. After some thought I rolled again. Then it occurred to me that people were waiting outside. Checking the play timer, I realized I had already spent over three hours on this. I decided to roll just three more times. The rule was simple: total stats had to exceed 50 no matter what class I got.
Clatter. Clatter. Clatter!
“Yes! Sixty! That’s what I’m talking about!”
On the final roll I got a perfect 60. The grind had paid off.
“But the class is… Buff Master??”
It looked like a support-type mage. While it wouldn’t receive the same noble treatment as priests, essential buffs might still earn it quasi-noble status. Satisfied, I confirmed the character creation.
Character created. User Park Jinwoo is connecting to Cliche World.
Dense fog filled my vision, then gradually thinned to reveal lush greenery. I stood in the middle of a dense forest surrounded by thick trees. The rich scent of grass and leaves flooded my nose. I instinctively took a deep breath, savoring it. I wasn’t sure if the game supported smells like a 4DX theater or if it was directly manipulating my brain, but the realistic forest aroma moved me.
When I checked my body, every finger moved without the slightest sense of disconnection. Yasuke Yamashiki had strongly recommended me as a tester because I was the pickiest person he knew. Even by my own strict standards, the background was flawless.
“Status window!”
Activation Buff — Activates the target’s metabolism and grants vitality based on their HP. Lasts 3 hours. Consumes 5 MP.
Growth Buff — Permanently increases the target’s stats over time. Lasts 3 hours; growth is retained. Consumes 5 MP.
Luck Buff — Increases the target’s luck. Lasts 3 hours and prevents critical hits in battle. Consumes 5 MP.
Healing Buff — Restores 5% of the target’s maximum HP every minute. Lasts 1 hour. Consumes 10 MP.
“Well, damn…”
No matter how many times I looked, there were no offensive skills.
“Solo play is going to be rough with only support buffs.”
My inventory contained 100 gold and one dagger. It had 100 slots; I’d have to test whether multiple identical items could stack in one slot.
“Oh, right—the secretary.”
I hurriedly logged out. The secretary and equipment team who had waited nearly four hours were either on their phones or dozing off.
“Sorry. I got too absorbed in creating my character.”
“We expected as much. Most gamers take stat allocation very seriously. What class did you get, and what was your total?”
“The class is Buff Master—a support role. I managed to hit the full 60 stat total.”
“Oh! You maxed it out. That was definitely worth the time investment.”
The secretary looked genuinely surprised that I had reached the stat cap of 60.
“There were no adverse reactions from your capsule. All readings are stable, so please limit each session to eight hours. We’ll see you next time.”
After the secretary and equipment team left, I skimmed the manual and climbed back into the capsule. I missed the refreshing scent of the forest I had created.
“Huuu~ Wow, the air is incredibly clean. How did they even pull this off?”
The moment I reconnected, the rich grassy aroma filled my lungs again. I stood there for a long time just enjoying it. With all the factories and nuclear plants the Chinese had built along the southern coast, Koreans in 2040 barely got six months of truly clean air a year. That was why I wanted to experience nature like this, even if it was inside a game.
I opened the map, but only a black veil covered the unexplored region. Satisfied with the air, I touched the trees, the grass, and the dirt. Everything felt perfectly real. I had no idea how they had implemented it, but the sensation was exactly like being transported to another world. As expected from Changing Group, the world’s top corporation—the quality was unmatched.
“In a normal online game an NPC would appear immediately to give the first quest. There’s nothing like that here.”
It seemed the game emphasized realism over fixed quest-giving NPCs. With no other choice, I started walking. Not knowing what might happen, I kept the dagger from my inventory in hand.
“Oh, right—buffs!”
Instead of walking normally, I cast Activation Buff and Luck Buff on myself.
Activation Buff and Luck Buff applied.
Light particles descend and absorb into your body.
A glittering cluster of light floated down from above my head and merged with me. My body sparkled briefly, confirming the buffs had taken hold. The visual of descending light was impressive—definitely a high-quality buff effect.
Thanks to Activation Buff, two hours of hiking mountain paths left me completely unfatigued. Thanks to Luck Buff, not a single monster appeared. Eventually I spotted a flowing stream and began following it.
“S… Save me!”
The distant cry told me an event quest had triggered. Since it was my first quest only two hours after logging in, I was excited. Of course, the opening event for a protagonist was almost always one of a few clichés: a noble lady’s carriage being attacked on the road, or a mountain girl chased by goblins or orcs. Saving such characters was classic. Or maybe the flashy start where you meet a dragon right before being executed as a criminal.
Curious what it would be, I ran toward the voice and found a girl being chased by three goblins. It looked like the classic JRPG “acquire a girl” cliché. She was probably a village outcast or an orphan, and after being rescued by the protagonist she would join his journey—the most common trope of all.
Apparently the old man Elon Busker had played EverQuest back in the early 2000s and had lovingly packed every JRPG cliché from that era into this game. Even while grumbling that it was cliché soup boiled down to the bones, I prepared to follow the script.
Still, I worried whether I could actually beat goblins with no combat skills. The distance was awkward for an ambush.
“Guess I have to tank it.”
I could only trust my perfect 60 stat total. I cast Healing Buff on myself and stepped out in front of them.
Healing Buff applied.
The goblins stopped chasing the girl when I appeared. She glanced at me but kept running. As I blocked their path, the three goblins surrounded me. I felt a pang of regret; if I had even one attack spell I could have struck first and made the fight easier. With no other options, I trusted my buffs and charged the goblin on the far left.
The creature hadn’t expected me to attack first. Startled, it thrust its skewer at me. I blocked it with my left forearm.
Shunk!
Burning agony shot up from the pierced flesh. The pain was so intense my hair stood on end.
“Games aren’t supposed to feel like this! Fuck! If they’re going to make pain this realistic, what the hell are they thinking?!”
Even as I cursed through the pain, I shoved the goblin and we both fell. I drove my dagger into its throat.
Shunk—
The sensation in my hand felt wrong, but I had no time to dwell on it. I yanked the blade free, rolled to my feet, and reset my stance. The remaining two charged. Once again I had to use my left hand as bait.
“Ugh. Shit.”
The goblin’s bone knife pierced my spread left palm. Searing pain raced through every nerve all the way to my brain. The agony was so sharp it felt like all strength would leave my body. Instead I clenched my fingers, trapping the knife so it couldn’t be pulled free, then stabbed my dagger into the creature’s neck.
When I yanked the blade out, green blood sprayed out with a wet gurgle, splattering across me. I shoved the dying, bleeding goblin into its companion.
“Ugh.”
The pain when the bone knife tore free from my hand was almost maddening. The goblin irritably shoved its comrade’s corpse aside—right as something flew at its face.
“Kuek!”
It was my flying kick. Goblins were dangerous in groups, not one-on-one. Even an average human male’s body was elite compared to a goblin’s. The difference in mass alone sent the creature crumpling. I followed with a soccer kick to its head, then mounted its back while it was dazed and drove the dagger into the base of its skull.
As the final goblin died, I collapsed beside it.
“Wow, shit. This game is insane. It’s so realistic. My arm… it really hurts!!”
The pain from the first skewer wound had tormented me the entire fight. In normal games pain either didn’t exist or was a brief flash. This felt exactly like reality, and I was curious how they had engineered the system to let players feel it for so long. I was also worried about how much it would hurt if I died by blade later.
“At least the wounds are visibly healing.”
The Healing Buff I had cast before the fight was closing the injuries. Black blood seeped from the skewer and bone-knife punctures as they closed. It seemed the buff first expelled toxins or infection, then healed the damage. The performance was good, but the speed felt slow. Recovering 5% of HP per minute was too gradual. Compared to instant healing magic in other games it felt lacking. I worried it might be hard to find a solid position as a support in parties or raids.
“A-are you all right?”
The girl who had run away had returned. Her clothes were ragged, and she carried a basket full of mushrooms in one hand. She had blonde hair and blue eyes—the exact template of the blonde, blue-eyed heroine so beloved in JRPGs.