Money can't buy happiness.
That's a lie told by people who've never gone hungry—or watched the person they love most die right in front of them.
Money buys something far more precious: time.
And time is the only thing I want.
Cold sweat soaked my back before the sun had even fully risen. The air in Uncle's cramped warehouse was thick with the scent of dust and old rice. I hoisted another sack—my shoulders screaming, joints threatening to give out. Grains of rice danced in the faint morning light slipping through the cracks in the wooden walls.
"Hyun-ah, that's enough," Uncle's gravelly voice cut through the silence. His calloused hand patted my shoulder. "Go home. Rest."
I shook my head, wiping sweat from my brow with a sleeve already caked in dirt. "I'm fine, Uncle. I can handle it. A little more won't hurt."
The money I'd earn might only cover painkillers—but that was better than nothing.
Uncle sighed, his wise eyes studying me with a mix of pride and sorrow. I could read his thoughts: If only Jinwoo, my son, had half your grit…
I bowed goodbye and trudged down the quiet dirt path toward home. This village—fresh air, endless green fields—felt like a prison. Three years ago, life was different. We lived in a sleek city apartment, laughing without care. Dad, with his boundless passion, introduced me to his first VR capsule—a magical machine that opened doors to infinite worlds.
Then the phone rang.
"There's been an accident."
The world stopped spinning.
Dad was gone. And with him, every luxury, every certainty.
Mom, whose health had always been fragile, collapsed completely. Not just physically—but from a heartbreak too deep to heal. We were forced to leave the city, return to Mom's rural hometown, and start from zero. We sold everything we could—including Dad's dream: the VR capsule rental shop.
I pushed open the door to our modest wooden house, forcing a thin smile for Mom and my little sister.
"Mom, Sora, I'm ba—"
The words choked in my throat.
The warmth I expected wasn't there.
A bowl of warm soup lay shattered on the floor, its contents spilled like tears. In the middle of the mess, my ten-year-old sister Sora knelt, sobbing. Her tiny hands clutched Mom's limp arm—Mom lay unconscious on the cold floor, her face pale as wax.
"Oppa!" Sora screamed, her voice raw with panic. "Mom… Mom suddenly…!" She couldn't finish. Her small body shook with fear.
The world spun.
The money I'd clenched in my fist slipped, scattering across the floor like worthless scraps.
No. No. Not again. Please.
Instinct took over. I rushed forward, dropping to my knees beside Mom. My trembling fingers pressed against her neck—searching for a pulse. There. Weak. Irregular. Her breathing shallow. Without a second thought, I scooped her fragile body into my arms. She was so light. Too light.
"Call an ambulance! Now, Sora!" I shouted, voice cracking.
I carried Mom out of the house, running with everything I had toward the nearest clinic. Sora jogged behind me, her cries unbroken. Every step was torture. Dad's lifeless face in the morgue haunted me.
"Exhaustion and stress," the doctor said flatly in the sterile white room. Mom lay in a bed, an IV dripping into her vein. "Her condition is worsening. Complications—plus unbearable emotional strain. She needs the specialized treatment we discussed. And she needs it now."
I could only nod, my mouth dry. My fists clenched so tight my nails drew blood.
Stress.
Stress from poverty. Stress from losing her husband. Stress from raising two kids alone. Stress I couldn't stop.
Hours later, Uncle, Aunt, and Jinwoo arrived. The room grew heavy with worry and the scent of fear. Aunt immediately comforted Sora, who was still crying. Jinwoo—usually all smiles—now had a furrowed brow. He pulled me outside.
The cool night air hit us. I leaned against the clinic wall, head hanging low. Physical and mental exhaustion finally crashed down.
"She'll be okay, Hyun," Jinwoo tried. "The doctors here will—"
"How much longer, Jinwoo?" My voice was hoarse, cutting him off. It didn't even sound like mine. "How much longer will 'okay' last before it turns into 'too late'?"
I looked up. My eyes must've been bloodshot, wild. "I heard… a kidney sells for a lot. Or part of a liver. It's not that important, right?"
Jinwoo's eyes widened. He grabbed my shoulders and shook me hard. "Are you insane?! Listen to yourself! Your mom needs you here—alive and whole—not as a corpse in some back-alley clinic! Never think like that!"
I shoved him away, rage and despair boiling over. "THEN WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO?! JUST WATCH HER DIE?!"
Jinwoo took a deep breath, forcing calm. "There's another way. A safer one." He stepped closer, voice low. "Lucidia World. Weekly arena tournament. Prize: 10 million won. Cash."
A game? I stared at him in disbelief. "A game? Jinwoo—I don't even have a Genesis Card ID! I can't afford to play!"
"Your dad…" Jinwoo continued, eyes gleaming. "He had that old VR capsule shop, right? He was a beta tester for Lucidia. What if… what if his old account still works?"
A tiny spark—fragile, flickering—ignited in the darkness.
Dad's account?
The warehouse behind Uncle's shop was a tomb of dust and memories. I pulled back a thick tarp—and there it stood. Dad's old VR capsule. Once a gateway to adventure, now just a monument to a lost past. With trembling hands, I wiped the dust from the logo.
This was his dream. His passion.
Now, it was my last hope.
After rummaging, I found it.
A simple metal card tucked into the console. No name. No fancy design. Just a serial number etched in cold steel: #000003.
I held it like a holy relic.
That night, after making sure Sora was asleep at a neighbor's, I climbed into the capsule. The door hissed shut, sealing the real world outside. Only the hum of the machine and my racing heartbeat remained.
"Please," I whispered, voice raw. "Let this work."
I inserted the card.
A green light blinked.
BEEP.
The real world faded. Blinding light enveloped me. A breathtaking digital landscape formed around me.
WELCOME TO LUCIDIA WORLD.
A smooth, androgynous system voice echoed in my mind.
"Scanning User Profile… Recognized. Beta Tester Account #000003. Welcome back, User Lee."
Relief nearly brought tears. It worked.
Now—class selection. Warrior, maybe. Strong and direct. Or Mage, for devastating power from afar. Whatever it took, I'd master it.
"Account Upgrade Complete. Please select your Class."
My smile vanished.
The screen that should've shown [Warrior], [Mage], [Archer]… was empty. Blank. My heart pounded. What? Where are the classes?
Then, in the void, a single line of text glowed—ancient, unnatural light.
[Class: ——— (Beta Privilege: UNBOUND)]
[UNBOUND: Access to all skill trees. However, all skills must be executed manually.]
"Unbound?" I muttered, dread creeping in. "Classless?"
No time to protest. The world shifted again. I was thrown into the Tutorial Zone—a peaceful green meadow, blocked by a snarling Ogre (Lv. 1) in the distance. Other players began materializing around me, faces full of awe and excitement.
Then—magic happened to them.
A young man raised his hand. White light enveloped him. A sturdy steel sword appeared in his grip. "[Warrior] Selected! Skill Acquired: [Power Slash]!"
A woman nearby conjured a small fireball, grinning. "[Mage] Selected! Skill Acquired: [Ember]!"
I stared at my empty hands.
A weak hiss—and a [Training Wooden Sword], old and splintered, appeared.
No light. No skill. Nothing.
"You have no Class. You have no Skills. Good luck."
"No…" I whispered, voice thick with fury and despair. "This can't be happening."
Then the system quest appeared for everyone:
[Tutorial Quest: Defeat the Training Ogre!]
[Reward: Novice Sword, 100 Gold]
The other players—armed with new skills—swarmed the Ogre in coordinated chaos. Arrows flew. Fireballs exploded. Swords flashed. The Ogre's health bar dwindled under their assault. In minutes, it roared and vanished, leaving rewards snatched up by the victors.
I could only watch from the sidelines, clutching my pathetic wooden sword. Jealousy and suffocation gripped me.
Look at them. They have a path. A system. I have… nothing.
A new Ogre respawned, roaring defiantly. The others had moved on. Only I remained—with the monster—in a meadow that suddenly felt vast and silent.
I took a deep breath, staring into its red eyes.
Mom's pale face in the clinic bed burned in my soul.
"I have no choice," I growled, voice shaking but resolute.
I charged, screaming, swinging my wooden sword wildly. My attacks were sloppy, fueled by raw emotion. The Ogre barely registered me as a threat. With a lazy swing, its massive hand smashed into me.
Sharp, virtual pain—yet achingly real—exploded through my body. The world flickered.
[YOU HAVE DIED.]
Darkness.
Then—respawn. Back at the zone's start. The Ogre waited, mocking.
I gritted my teeth and charged again. Same result. [YOU HAVE DIED.]
Again. And again. And again.
Die. Respawn. Attack. Die. Respawn. Attack.
It became a torturous ritual—designed to break the spirit. Frustration burned in my chest. But every time I wanted to give up—Mom, Sora's tears, the doctor's "stress"—forced me back to my feet.
Slowly, something strange began to happen.
My burning rage cooled into sharp focus. I stopped seeing the Ogre as a monster—and started seeing it as a pattern.
There. Its right shoulder twitches before an overhead smash. It snorts hard before charging. After a wide swing, its left leg is exposed for half a second…
My virtual body—having memorized every blow—began moving on instinct. Where I once died in one hit, now I lasted two, three strikes. I learned to shift, block with the splintering wooden sword, and slip in annoying little jabs.
Three hours passed.
The in-game sun dipped, painting the sky in orange and purple.
The Ogre and I were both wrecks. My breath ragged, body covered in virtual bruises. My HP bar glowed red—a sliver left. The Ogre's was the same.
We circled each other, wary.
This was a battle of endurance—and I'd lasted longer than anyone, including myself, ever expected.
The Ogre, growing desperate, launched a final, reckless charge—its massive body a living projectile.
But this time, the world looked different.
Everything slowed. The wind's howl, the Ogre's roar—all muted. I no longer saw a terrifying beast. I saw a machine—gears and levers moving in predictable patterns. And in that pattern, a gap. A tiny weak point flickering near its collarbone—a crack in its virtual armor I'd never noticed.
No scream. No rage. Just cold certainty.
"This ends it," I whispered.
With my last strength, I leaped into its charge—not away. My body twisted, dodging its claws by millimeters. My wooden sword—gripped in both hands—thrust forward like a final arrow.
THUNK.
A dull impact. The wooden sword—impossible—pierced clean through the weak point.
The Ogre froze, eyes wide in disbelief. It looked down at the stick in its chest—then up at the sky—before shattering into a cascade of beautiful light particles.
DING!
[Tutorial Complete!]
My strength vanished. I collapsed to my knees, then face-first into the grass. No energy to cheer. Not even to smile. I just stared at the darkening sky, a relief so deep it brought a single tear sliding down my grimy cheek.
I did it.
I didn't hear the system announce the [Novice Sword] reward.
Consciousness—drained after three hours of relentless combat—finally gave out. Peaceful darkness wrapped around me as I fell asleep in the middle of the virtual meadow.
DING! DING! DING!
The unseen screen exploded with glowing notifications.
[Achievement Unlocked: First Beta Login in 10 Years!]
[Achievement Unlocked: World First – Tutorial Clear Without Class!]
[Hidden Quest Complete: Will of the Unbound.]
[Reward: ??? – PENDING…]
Meanwhile, in the real world—my body rested peacefully in the capsule.
But far away, in a dark control room filled with holographic monitors tracking every pulse of Lucidia World—a red alarm blared.
[SYSTEM ALERT: BETA ACCOUNT #000003 – USER HYUN LEE – REACTIVATED. CLASS: UNBOUND. TUTORIAL STATUS: COMPLETE.]
A hand with long, elegant fingers reached out, zooming in on my sleeping face.
"Well, well…" a smooth, dangerous voice whispered, breaking the silence.
"Finally. Welcome, son of the legend.
We've been waiting."
End of Chapter 1