Today began no differently than usual.
I woke up before sunrise, got ready for work, chased away the remaining drowsiness with the cold morning air, and boarded the hellish subway.
The same faces every day.
The familiar tasks that repeated every time.
After dealing with them, I would have a late lunch.
Even then, when the work wasn't finished, I barely managed to complete the remaining tasks by taking bites of a sandwich I bought from a convenience store.
Just then, my smartphone vibrated once.
I instinctively checked my smartphone, assuming it was just some useless advertisement, but I couldn't believe my eyes.
And I mentally applauded my wise choice for not ignoring this vibration and checking it.
"...My goodness. A D&K update? So they didn't abandon the game after all."
It was good news after a long time. D&K.
A game released about a year ago, it might be plummeting now with no bottom in sight, but at the time of its release, it enjoyed revolutionary popularity.
The reason for its popularity was its overwhelming level of artificial intelligence and the interactions based on it.
The responses, like dealing with real people rather than mechanical NPCs, garnered huge praise.
Not only the heroes I led, the squad members, and the main NPCs of the game's progression, but even passing pedestrian NPCs captivated countless gamers with their lifelike appearance, as if they were real people who perceived and acted on their own, not just fragments of data.
However, if there are advantages, there are disadvantages.
Project D's difficulty was too high, way too high.
To put it bluntly and honestly, it was hellish.
And it was unreasonable.
Most games are designed so that if there's a chapter, you can somehow clear it.
If you fail, you can change your strategy and restart, and if that doesn't work, there's also the option to repeat previous chapters to strengthen your heroes.
There's also the last resort of spending real money.
But this damn D&K had none of that.
Under the pretext of depicting realistic warfare, squad members who died in combat were lost forever.
Even if you cherished a hero and wanted to get them back, death was irreversible, and the player would have an eternal farewell with that hero.
You could restart the chapter, but what good was that if the hero needed for clearance was dead?
That's not all.
Situations where a single squad of five had to engage a battalion, or even a division-level unit, frequently occurred.
Even more seriously, if all troops in the unit were wiped out or the player character died, it was game over.
If the player character died, it was game over at that moment; even if all squad members died, it was game over immediately.
No matter how much time and effort you poured in, that account would be suspended.
Real money?
These guys, I wondered if they even intended to make money with this game, as it was designed so that you couldn't spend money even if you wanted to, except for the initial purchase cost.
Due to the astonishingly malicious difficulty, countless users had their accounts suspended or gave up and left, and the influx of new users became non-existent.
Now, only a few true veterans who enjoyed such painful processes remained.
Once a game that shook the world, it was now a game with the worst ratings, known only to a few.
Moreover, it had not received a single update since its release, practically abandoned.
Naturally, I thought the game company had given up on it, but today, exactly one year later, news of an update suddenly arrived.
The community was heating up, thinking that new players would finally be joining.
"Should I take a look?"
I leisurely opened the announcement.
It had been a game I enjoyed so much that I was deeply engrossed in it, and now, after a whole year, an update was finally here, bringing back fresh memories.
The moment I touched the link with an excited heart, I felt the faint smile on my lips quickly disappear.
"Are they crazy?"
A loud voice involuntarily escaped my lips.
I felt the gaze of several employees who were resting in the same space turn toward me.
The announcement contained a phrase that made me doubt my eyes.
This was one of two things... no, both.
The developers must be utterly insane, with a screw loose, desperate to hasten the demise of the game's remaining lifespan.
D&K was a game where extreme difficulty was considered the biggest problem.
At a time when they should be actively overhauling the system to reduce difficulty and attract new users, they were actually increasing it.
This was an act that would drive away even the few remaining veterans.
Both the ones who made such a thing and the ones who played it must be completely insane.
"...Still, it'll be fun."
And I, too, was definitely insane.
For about three months, I hadn't logged into D&K.
The reason was simply that the game had become boring, and the reason it had become boring was that my unit had grown too strong.
[Odin]
A gigantic airship.
In other words, an account that possessed a flying ship, commanded a battalion-level force of infantry, and was ranked second.
That was the account I was currently using.
In fact, for some reason, the rating score had hit rock bottom, but purely in terms of combat power, everyone ranked Odin as number one.
Even among enemies, it was called the "Demon's Unit," and whenever Odin's airship deployed, they would raise white flags and flee, let alone engage in proper combat.
The level of artificial intelligence was so outstanding that if they judged the win rate to be low, they would immediately retreat without even fighting.
For that reason, it had recently become less fun.
But if the enemies became stronger, engagements would occur more frequently than now, making the game more interesting.
I checked the time.
12:45 PM.
There were still about 15 minutes left of lunchtime.
I hadn't finished eating, but I was more eager to see how D&K had changed.
I logged into the game with the same excitement I felt when I first joined D&K.
As the smartphone screen brightened, a welcome voice flowed through my earphones.
Odin's airship, which I had spent considerable effort and cost to create, was docked in a quiet coastal area at the stern.
On the deck, the soldiers I had meticulously raised greeted my return enthusiastically after three months.
[Commander! You've finally returned! We believed you would come back someday!]
[Don't lie. Commander! This one was crying every day saying the commander abandoned us!]
[It has been three months since your return. Would you like to be briefed on how the front-line situation has changed during that time?]
Speech bubbles of the chattering soldiers covered the screen, almost preventing the game from progressing properly.
Although it sometimes interfered with gameplay, the unparalleled level of artificial intelligence was D&K's greatest charm.
"I'm short on time, so I'll postpone training until after work. I'll just do a light reconnaissance of the front lines as rehabilitation and..."
[Master.]
Unlike the other speech bubbles, one colored in red filled the screen.
Only one person called me Master, not Commander.
My sole, unique Master-level hero.
The red-eyed witch, Leysia, who was both my top combat force and served as my secretary.
I focused on her.
"...?"
Was it my imagination?
I felt as if she was looking not into my character's eyes, but into my eyes beyond the screen.
She slowly opened her mouth, and a new speech bubble appeared.
[Over the past three months, I have keenly felt it. Indeed, we need our Master. It would be wonderful if Master could come here.]
I thought it was just a meaningless comment, a joyous remark at my return after three months.
But—
"...Huh?"
As the speech bubble disappeared, I suddenly felt dizzy.
Just as I raised my hand to my head, thinking it might be anemia, my vision rapidly darkened.
I was suddenly scared, wondering if something serious had happened to my body.
My consciousness gradually faded.
Beyond my receding consciousness, I felt as if I saw grotesque and ferocious red eyes.
"...Attention! ...No!"
I heard a sound.
It was the voice of a middle-aged man, full of urgency and earnestness.
Since my consciousness was hazy, I couldn't understand what he was saying at all.
In my dim consciousness, a blue light flickered several times.
"If you don't want to die in a place like this, pull yourself together, Ryan!"
The voice was louder and clearer than before.
My body was slowly regaining sensation.
Someone was holding me and shaking me roughly back and forth.
It seemed that one of my colleagues had seen me collapse and called an ambulance.
Perhaps these hands belonged to a paramedic or a doctor.
I was truly grateful, but there were some unsatisfactory aspects.
First, for some unknown reason, I was a patient who had lost consciousness and collapsed.
Even if it wasn't a delicate touch like handling glass artwork, I wondered if they weren't handling a patient too roughly.
And second, why did they keep calling me Ryan?
"Ryan!"
SMACK!
...What was that?
Could it be that they slapped me?
Although it was light, I felt pain in my cheek.
For a moment, I was overcome with emotion, but thinking calmly, it was highly likely a measure to wake me up from unconsciousness.
Although I still couldn't put strength into my body, I felt that if I kept my eyes closed, I would probably get hit again, so I struggled to open my eyes.
"Ryan! You're awake! My goodness, thank God. Thank you very much."
"..."
...Crazy.
What is this really?
The world that met my eyes when I opened them was completely different from what I had expected.
I had imagined a cramped space with medical tools crammed in, paramedics, or the ceiling of a hospital room reeking of medicine.
Instead, what I saw was black smoke partially obscuring the blue sky, and vegetation losing its natural color to crimson flames.
Why?
I was in the middle of a burning forest.
My head ached.
When I brought my hand to the painful spot, I felt the sensation of something hot flowing.
It was blood.
"How's your body? Can you get up? Your head, is your head okay?"
And the person touching my body was not a paramedic or a doctor.
It was a middle-aged man with a bushy beard, dressed in attire that would only appear in a medieval-themed movie.
Beyond his ill-fitting beard, his face was full of small scars here and there, suggesting a rough life.
This scene was hard to believe as reality.
"...Is this a dream?"
Yes.
It had to be a dream.
How could this be real?
I just needed to close my eyes and wait a little, then I would wake up from the dream and this time, I would truly open my eyes in a hospital room...
"Ryan! If you close your eyes now, you'll really die!"
SMACK!
"Aagh!"
I was forced to open my eyes.
I felt that if that huge, pot-lid-sized hand came for my cheek again, I might never open my eyes again, regardless of my will.
Having regained a little more strength than before, I barely managed to sit up on my own.
And then I realized.
Is this really a dream?
For a dream, the sensations were too vivid, and my mind was too clear.
The faint smell of earth, the intense scent of something burning that seemed to cover it, and the hot, dry air I inhaled from the burning vegetation, the heat radiating to my skin.
Above all, the lingering pain in my cheek.
The pain from the wound on my head and the dizziness it caused.
None of these were things I could experience in a dream.
"Where is this, and who are you?"
"Ryan. What on earth are you saying? Have you forgotten me already? Or perhaps the shock earlier... No, that's not important now. Run!"
The middle-aged man pushed my back hard.
His urgent voice prompted me to run, and I did so, taken by surprise.
Flames surrounded me and were spreading rapidly.
The heat of the flames, which I had casually observed thinking it was a dream, now reached my skin, and fear slowly crept in.
My running speed increased without me realizing it.
The man's ragged breathing was irregularly heard from behind me.
Whoosh!
Something made a sound far away.
A white ball flew through the sky, drawing a large arc.
The ball, which soared high, reached its apex and then fell back toward the ground.
Ironically, the impact point was not far from where I was running.
"Ryan!"
With an urgent cry, the man's hand pushed my back.
I lost my balance and fell, and the man covered me with his body.
BOOM!
The earth shook with an ear-splitting roar.
A blinding white light, intense heat, and tremendous wind pressure swept over us.
The man, unable to withstand it, was thrown first, and I too was flung into the air.
Screams escaped my lips without cease.
My body, which had flown through the air for a moment, was then thrown to the ground by gravity.
"Cough! H-huh!"
It felt as if my entire body was breaking.
Nothing seemed broken, but I clearly had bruises all over.
Soon, tears welled up due to the overwhelming pain.
But the instinct for survival made my body get up.
"..."
I swallowed my breath in silence.
The middle-aged man who had slapped my cheek and pushed my back.
He was crushed under a large fallen tree, spitting blood, and dying.
Although we were complete strangers, I instinctively tried to move the tree pressing down on him.
However, the tree was too large and heavy for one person to move.
"...Go."
The man said.
"What do you mean..."
"Go, Ryan! Run!"
A shout filled with strength, unbelievable for a dying person, made me turn around.
Again, sounds were heard, and several white spheres appeared in the sky.
Perhaps the slowly encroaching fear also played a significant role in my decision.
I pushed off the ground and ran blindly.
Roars and explosions echoed behind me, and the overwhelming aftershock made me lose my balance, stumble, fall, and get up again countless times.
How long did I run like that?
CRASH!
Just as I heard another loud bang, I briefly lost consciousness.
The moment I regained my senses, tears welled up against my will.
"Aaaargh!"
An unbearable pain originating from my left arm spread through my nervous system to my entire body.
I had been caught in an explosion that occurred right next to me.
In my 25 years of life, I could definitively say this was the first time I had experienced such a level of pain.
The intense pain completely sapped away the tiny bit of stamina I had left.
My vision, my consciousness, gradually blurred.
I had an ominous certainty that if I closed my eyes this time, I would never open them again.
All I could do was grit my teeth and resist the pain.
"Survivor! There's a survivor!"
Human voices were heard.
Knights in metallic armor, accompanied by clinking sounds, rushed over.
One knight knelt before me and shouted something.
I couldn't understand what they were saying at all, as if my hearing had also been damaged by the explosion.
Soon, a female knight rushed over, reached out her hand to me, and a faint green light shimmered at her fingertips.
In my fading consciousness, I unintentionally noticed the emblem carved on their armor.
"That's..."
It was definitely an emblem in my memory.
No.
It was an emblem I couldn't help but remember, even if I hated to.
Because it was the emblem I had seen countless times over the past year, beyond my smartphone or monitor screen.
I barely uttered one word before letting go of the thread of consciousness.
"D&K..."