The heir to the House of Grosvenor, Tennessee Grosvenor, was not in the best of moods this morning. With the Royal Academy entrance on the horizon, his private lessons had intensified, taking up nearly all his time in the past few days. But what could he do?
As his tutor had pointed out, once he enrolled, this grueling routine would finally end. For now, he had no choice but to endure. He had just finished another relentless economics lecture.
"I can't do this anymore."
"Excuse me?"
"None of this is sinking in."
"Perhaps a short break would—"
"Let's just stop for today."
At that, Tennessee grabbed his coat.
"If you keep acting on your own like this, I'll have no choice but to report it to the Duke…."
"Is that all you ever say?"
"…?"
"The Duke this, the Duke that. Is that really all you have to say?"
"I'm merely fulfilling my duties…."
"Suit yourself."
Tennessee carelessly threw on his coat.
"Then, would you at least tell me where you're going?"
"I'll be heading to the National Gallery."
"Oh, then I'll make arrangements. After closing hours, you'll have the gallery to yourself…."
"Don't bother. I'm going now."
"Three hours should be enough for viewing the paintings, right?"
"I have more plans after that."
"…"
"The London Symphony Orchestra is performing."
"But the concert isn't something you can't attend another time…."
"This is Claudio Abbado's last performance as conductor."
Perhaps it was Tennessee's resolute tone.
"Hmm."
His tutor could only nod reluctantly.
That night, the orchestra's concert was in full swing at the Royal Albert Hall.
Yet.
Step. Step.
Tennessee was walking somewhere entirely different.
With his hat pulled low, he glanced around cautiously.
Swiftly, he slipped into a shabby record shop.
Moving as if on familiar ground, Tennessee headed straight to the new releases section.
But it seemed he didn't find anything that caught his interest.
He soon picked up a familiar record.
Herbie Hancock's 1983 album, Rockit.
An album filled with sounds he'd never heard before.
A rare gem that introduced him to the genre of electronic music.
With the LP in hand, Tennessee went up to the counter.
"Keep the change."
"B-But this is far too much…."
"I can use the listening room, right?"
"Of course. Allow me to show you."
Tennessee placed Hancock's record on the turntable.
Then, carefully set the needle on it.
Ba-bam! Ba-bam! Ba-bam-bam-bam!
The familiar electronic beats filled the space.
A sound that always had a captivating effect on him.
Music that made his shoulders bob just from the intro.
After listening to the same track several times, he left the LP on the shelf and exited the store empty-handed.
He walked for quite a while along a narrow alley.
Though he'd mentioned the National Gallery, his destination was a small game shop.
Unlike his casual visit to the record shop, Tennessee raised his collar high and donned sunglasses before entering.
Even then, he seemed nervous, glancing at his reflection in the window several times.
Nonetheless.
Convinced there was nothing to worry about, he began browsing the store.
"…?"
But a tall, Asian man was staring intently at him.
What?
Could he possibly recognize him?
Should he just leave?
But then again…
'That would just confirm that I'm from the Grosvenor family.'
With his hat and sunglasses on, if he just waited it out… eventually, they'd brush it off as mistaken identity.
Nodding to himself, he stood his ground.
Tennessee tried to endure the encounter with shameless determination.
"…!"
Yet, the stranger seemed just as stubborn, not giving up and even staring more openly.
Even when Tennessee turned his head, the persistent gaze followed.
"Damn it."
Admitting defeat, Tennessee dashed out of the store.
***
'Why did he leave?'
I was a bit bewildered.
I'd only stopped by the game shop while out for a stroll to see if Dragon Ball was selling well.
But who would have thought?
A guy who looked like a sculpture had walked into the game shop.
Blond hair peeked out from under a deeply pulled-down hat.
Though he wore large sunglasses, he couldn't hide his high nose bridge.
He was so striking that I couldn't help but stare.
Could I have offended him?
As if chased, the man hurried out of the shop.
'Hmm.'
It felt like I'd somehow caused trouble for the game shop.
Oh well.
The least I could do was buy something before leaving.
I approached the counter and asked, "Do you have Dragon Ball?"
"Sure! We have both the console game and a board game card pack."
"Which one's more popular?"
"The card packs sell better, by far."
"Really?"
"Since you can play it without a console, I suppose."
"Then I'll take a card pack."
While I took out my money, the store owner packed it up and commented, "I haven't seen you around before."
"I just moved here."
"Nearby?"
"Yes."
"Still a student, right?"
I nodded.
A curious look appeared on the owner's face.
Nearby, the only school was the Royal Academy… judging by his expression.
"Students from there play games, too?"
"…?"
"In all my years, I've never had one of them as a customer."
I grinned. "I happen to like games."
He seemed pleased by my response.
"Though classes start the day after tomorrow, I guess you won't have much time for games once you're in the dorms…."
Then something seemed to occur to him.
"Ah, so that's why you're getting the card pack!"
Now that he mentioned it, the day after tomorrow was indeed the start of term.
After paying, I took the shopping bag and said, "I'll come by often."
"Well, thanks for saying so, young man."
As if—this is JH Network's CEO here. Of course, I'll come back.
I nodded politely and left the game shop.
***
On the first day of school, I grabbed my bag and headed to campus.
By 9 a.m., I had arrived at the auditorium.
The opening ceremony was at 1 p.m., so there'd be time to settle into the dorm and unpack while waiting.
The hall was already filled with a fair number of students.
Among them, Olivia was the most eye-catching.
Taller than her peers and with striking, refined features, she stood out wherever she went.
Noticing me, she gave a small nod.
I was about to raise a hand in reply when—
"There you are!"
A voice cut in abruptly.
"We finally meet!"
Just from the voice, I could picture his face.
It was Jack Grylls.
So I quickly turned away from Olivia and looked at Jack.
Can I compare people to dogs?
He was like an overexcited dog, wagging its tail furiously when it sees its friend… Jack couldn't contain his excitement, even snorting a bit.
Guess I should humor him.
"I've been looking all over for you."
"Really?"
"Why didn't you show up on orientation day?"
"Oh, I had to attend a Navy Day event."
Jack added a brief explanation.
His grandfather was a war veteran, so he attended the event every year.
"So that's why you're so keen on the military."
"I've never met him, though."
"But there's something called natural disposition, you know."
"Well, he wasn't even drafted; he volunteered."
Jack's face filled with pride.
A smug grin.
Here's another surprising bit.
"Even though I missed it, the principal assigned me to the advanced class."
The principal's discretion, huh?
If it was Professor Middleton, that's not surprising.
"So, I objected. 'Why are you banishing me to the top class without permission?'"
Pfft.
"Then suddenly, your face popped into my head. When I heard we'd be in the same class, I just bowed and thanked him."
That's so typical of Jack.
"Being in the same class means we could end up as roommates, right?"
"Really?"
"Two per room, right? We might share the same room."
But unfortunately, Jack's wish didn't come true.
My room was 3020, at the very end of the third floor.
The door was slightly ajar.
Knock, knock.
When I knocked, a guy who was already there turned to look at the entrance.
Oh?
'Uh, I… I'm developing a very violent, intense game.'
It was the white boy who'd sat next to me during the debate!
I'd been wanting to talk to him at some point.
'Perfect.'
I smiled as I stepped into the room.
"You're Peter, right?"
"How do you know my name…?"
"We were in the same group. Don't you remember?"
"Oh… yeah."
"I'm Park Ji-hoon."
"I know. You're… famous."
He scratched his head awkwardly before asking, "Which bed do you want? You pick, and I'll just take the other…."
"They're exactly the same, so it doesn't matter."
"But don't you have a preference? Like the side closer to the window…?"
"No, I don't mind."
I sat across from Peter and remarked, "You sure have a lot of stuff."
"Oh, I brought my computer."
"A computer?"
"Yeah, I want to be a game developer."
He grinned.
"I was curious, actually."
"About what?"
"The game you mentioned during the debate. You said it was pretty violent…."
At that, Peter shrank back a bit, like a turtle.
"T-That was just an idea, it has nothing to do with my personal beliefs. Really."
"I know."
"You… know?"
"Of course."
"You really… believe me?"
I nodded.
He seemed uncertain, as if he couldn't quite trust me yet. Or rather, he hadn't fully let his guard down.
"Why?"
"I heard whispers after the debate."
"From who?"
"Just… some classmates."
"…."
"Of course, they'd think I'm crazy for wanting to make such a violent game."
Despite his words, Peter's face showed a hint of bitterness. His expression was so somber that I couldn't help but respond.
"I actually think the opposite."
"Huh?"
"I even mentioned it during the debate. An artist and their work are separate. Planning a violent game doesn't make you a bad person."
"I appreciate that, but…"
He looked like he had more to say, so I waited calmly for him to continue.
"It's not just the violence."
"What else?"
"You can steal at will, and if you feel like it, even rob people…."
"It's a game."
Gulp.
He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing.
"As long as it's for adults, what's the issue?"
"You really think so?"
"Of course. If grown-ups want to play an adult game, what's the problem?"
At that, any lingering doubt or hesitation in Peter's eyes completely vanished.
As if he'd been waiting for this, he launched into an enthusiastic explanation about his game. Occasionally, he even shared bits of his personal story.
"Our family was originally nobility, you know. But we completely lost everything. My grandfather even sold the estate, so by my time, there's no trace of nobility left."
Peter spoke with a detached tone.
"But, you know, there are so many pointless rules. They say nobility is nobility even if it's fallen, so we have to follow all these protocols—whether it's for a single meal… or even just wearing clothes… blah, blah…."
He sighed deeply.
"Not that I'd complain if they at least provided money. But I have nothing to inherit, yet endless obligations. Even with school, I wanted to go to a regular one, but they insisted on sending me here, where tuition costs a fortune… Don't get me started."
I watched Peter quietly.
"Sorry, I rambled on with a boring story, didn't I?"
"No, feel free to tell me more."
"I don't have anything more to say. It's all pretty depressing, really."
"…."
"Anyway, every time I felt frustrated, I imagined this game. In the game, I could destroy all those rules and duties."
"Just hearing about it sounds thrilling."
Grinning, Peter let out a sheepish laugh, as if he'd never gotten a reaction like that before.
"Not that I'll ever complete it."
"Why not?"
"It's hard enough to make alone, and even if I did finish it, the world wouldn't accept it."
My friend, don't give up too soon.
If you're thinking of the game I have in mind… you might be creating a franchise that will go down in history.
'Should I confirm it?'
Keeping my expression neutral, I asked, "Have you chosen a name for the game?"
Again, he withdrew, like a turtle.
It seemed he had an idea but felt shy about saying it.
"Well, no, not really."
Peter averted his eyes, trying to brush off the question.
"I mean, it's still a long way from being done, so it'd be strange to have a title already."
"Right…."
"But you must have a working title."
"Huh?"
"Like how babies have a nickname before they're born. Games have project names, don't they?"
"It's not like it's anything special…."
"So, there is something?"
"…."
"What? What's the name?"
"It's… kind of a ridiculous name…."
"…?"
"Only as a temporary idea…"
After a long pause, Peter closed his eyes and blurted it out, almost like he'd given up.
"Great Car Thief…."
(TL/n - Grand Theft Auto GTA)
A big grin spread across my face.
"I'm not really planning to use that title…."
"It's amazing."
"What?"
"I mean, it's fantastic."
Maybe he took it as reassurance.
Peter gave me a shy but grateful smile.