Chapter: 1
Chapter Title: Became the Daytime Loser and Nighttime Beast in the Game
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*Crash!*
The plate that hit my head shattered into pieces on the floor.
Shards of the broken plate scattered the dim indoor lighting.
"Boss, get out here!"
He'd just thrown a plate of fish cake soup at me, but he couldn't care less.
At least the soup had cooled off. No burns, thank goodness.
"Haa..."
My clothes were soaked with the soup broth.
I'd tried to hold it in, but looking at the damp fabric, a small sigh escaped me.
"Hey! Do you know who I am? Sighing like that after I graced you!?"
The drunk was yelling his head off, veins bulging.
The finger he jabbed at me was trembling with rage. It looked like he might poke right through me.
"Oh dear, sir. This kid doesn't know any better. Please don't get so upset..."
The boss rushed out from the back of the shop at the commotion.
He tried to soothe the customer with a forced smile, but the drunk's eyes had been unfocused for a while now.
"Don't you have parents? No proper upbringing? That's why trash like you ends up working in a dump like this, got it?"
I gritted my teeth.
Dragging my parents into it crossed the line ages ago.
I'd clenched my fist so hard my nails dug into my skin before I knew it.
...Endure it.
Student loans weighed heavy on my shoulders, and job prospects were bleak.
Even if a customer splashed me with fish cake soup and hurled insults, I had to take it.
The boss eventually managed to shoo the drunk away.
As I quietly fetched cleaning supplies to sweep up the broken plate, he patted my shoulder lightly.
"Go get some air."
I didn't refuse.
Stepping out front, the air felt pretty chilly.
My cheek stung when I touched it—blood on my fingertips.
Must've torn when the plate hit.
"Haa..."
I leaned against the utility pole by the shop.
The wet hem of my clothes grew even colder in the night air.
"Life's such a bitch..."
***
"Uh... sorry, but today's your last day..."
As I finished closing up, the boss held out a paper bag with an unmistakably apologetic look.
Sudden firing felt like something out of a drama, but reality's always more dramatic than that.
"..."
I just stared at the bag he offered.
The shop was empty now that we'd closed—no signs of life.
Just me and the boss in this not-so-big bar.
No other staff in this modest little place, which was deader than a doornail these days.
"Got it, boss."
It hit like a bolt from the blue... but deep down, I'd seen it coming.
This bar used to be packed from sundown till you couldn't find a seat.
But the last few weeks? Even Fridays and peak weekends combined didn't match a busy day's crowd.
I'd watched the boss's face grow cloudier, his sighs more frequent with each passing day.
Maybe because it was inevitable, I took it surprisingly calmly.
"Sorry. You've worked so hard all this time."
"No worries. Things are what they are."
It wouldn't just be me losing this gig.
The boss's expression was a mix of guilt and gloom.
Probably some new shop taking over soon.
I swallowed the bitterness and forced a smile.
Complaining now wouldn't change a thing.
A wry smile had become my default ages ago.
He pressed the paper bag into my hands.
"Put a little extra in there."
"...Thank you."
No sense refusing.
Plenty of places just text you and cut you loose, but he told me face-to-face and even hooked me up at the end. Felt his kindness.
"Thanks for everything, boss."
I bowed my head and stepped out.
The night sky was pitch black, no twilight glow seeping between buildings.
At this hour, when the bar closed its late-night shift, even the city felt devoid of light.
Just streetlamps, vending machines, and the odd claw machine glowing in weird spots.
"Tomorrow at dawn, gotta hunt for another part-time gig..."
Not sure I'd find one with conditions as good as this bar.
I swallowed a sigh and headed back to my place.
The 6-pyeong studio was fairly tidy.
Furniture? Desk, cheap bed, portable wardrobe—that was it.
I'd maximized the space, but it was a remodel of an old building, so limits were clear.
"Juggling two part-times is rough..."
One down today, though.
I set the convenience store bag on the desk.
Showered, changed—body slumped into the chair on autopilot.
*Pop!*
Cracking open the can brought a satisfying hiss.
Gotta find a new gig tomorrow, no matter how tired...
But that was daylight business.
For now, sip beer and boot up the computer naturally.
The old monitor flickered to life.
Like my empty studio, the desktop was barren.
This PC's only jobs were homework and games—nothing else.
And just one game installed.
'Broken World'
An RPG released seven years ago.
When the trailer dropped, everyone was talking about it.
And yeah, even now, that trailer was insane.
No set walkthroughs—player creativity unlocked all sorts of strategies.
Vast open world, explore anywhere without loads.
Gear and skills combined for your unique playstyle.
Graphics so good, folks joked it was alien tech.
Seemed like Game of the Year on launch!
...Yeah, no.
Total opposite.
"Player creativity for strategies?" You needed wild exploits just to progress.
"Explore the open world freely?" Sure, but nothing to do but wander.
Unique playstyle? Balance breaks and bugs everywhere.
New bugs daily, devs ignored them, players modded fixes—then everyone bailed.
"I wouldn't have touched it if my parents hadn't bought it."
Reason I started this flop? That was it.
Came home after their funeral to a note about my college entrance exams and a small gift.
So I dove into Broken World with real affection.
Didn't take long for it to turn bittersweet.
Still, it had its merits.
Over 3,000 hours played, full completionist achievements no one else had—plenty to love.
Graphics matched the trailer exactly.
Jokes about devs dumping all budget into polygons weren't far off—they were serious about visuals.
Said I'd quit a million times, but post-main story ending, I roamed the world endlessly.
Haven't traveled since Mom and Dad passed.
Too busy grinding day by day.
Instead, I wandered Broken World's unreal beauty alone.
Despite the "Broken World" name, landscapes here were breathtaking, impossible in reality.
Scaled mountains piercing the clouds, strolled endless coastlines at world's edge, explored ancient ruins beneath starlit lakes.
Even if everyone called it a flop.
To me, Broken World was like a hometown for the heart.
Ruins today?
Or catch a sunrise.
Sipped my beer again.
As buzz kicked in, a new window popped on the main screen.
[Broken World 7th Anniversary!]
[New DLC Released!]
"...What?"
DLC for this dead game where I'm the only one still playing?
"For real...?"
Devs who never fixed bugs suddenly drop DLC?
April Fools past due? But the store page was legit.
Broken World DLC, just 9,900 won.
Let's see... contents...
"New playable character: Magic Swordsman Theo Agrit, plus related quests and items..."
Magic swordsman, huh...
Swallowed hard without thinking.
Heartbeat thumped loud in my ears, crystal clear.
First new playable char in seven years, new items—maybe new areas or quests unlocking spots.
That was enough.
Fresh content.
No lie, it tempted me.
Got extra pay this month anyway—try it, refund if it sucks.
*Click, click.*
Payment done, download started in a flash.
Watched the hourglass on the main screen, drained my first beer.
Munched jerky—not long before it stopped.
Skipped the second beer, grabbed the mouse instead.
Check the new character first...
*Flick...*
Excitement aside, screen went black.
"What the...?"
Checked everything—monitor fine.
Game crash?
Another bug?
Clicked mouse—no change, still dark.
Can't force quit, can't alt-tab.
Buying DLC triggers a bug?
Give me back my hype and 9,900 won.
As loathing—not hate—for the devs built, text appeared on the black screen.
[Congratulations!]
[You've become the first buyer of Broken World DLC!]
[First buyer bonus granted!]
"Bonus shmonus, just start the game..."
About to vent frustration—
Monitor blasted light like a flashbang.
My vision and mind went pure white.
1
...Poke, poke.
Something prodding my cheek brought me around.
What...? Fell asleep?
Mind foggy...
...Poke.
What's this wet thing on my cheek?
Not a roof leak again.
Old remodel studio acting up...
Poke...
No, not like a roof drip.
Whatever's touching my cheek is wet but kinda hard.
More like a puppy nose than water.
Sleep fully gone.
Head still fuzzy, body sensations off somehow.
Focused on heavy eyelids—soon senses and mind synced.
Slowly lifted them.
Unfocused eyes blurred on a cream-colored ceiling.
...Why a ceiling?
...I'd been sitting in the chair playing Broken World before nodding off.
Broken World.
Imported beer, jerky.
Should be facedown on the desk.
More importantly, what about my DLC?
Buggy PC?
It definitely mentioned first buyer bonus...
Poke poke!
Something prodded my cheek again.
Eyes focused.
Cream ceiling spotless—no dripping water.
Instead, a clump of dark brown fur on my stomach.
Long conical snout, tiny black nose, round doll-like black eyes.
Mostly white fur on the face, black patches around eyes like a panda.
Two round, fairly big ears poked up top.
That tiny nose keep poking me?
Shiny and moist-looking, yeah.
...But why's this furball on my stomach?
Absurd—speechless, but a famous internet meme jogged my memory. Barely got the name out.
"...Tanuki?"
The words barely left—
The tanuki... no, tanuki-man lookalike scrunched its face and extended a front paw tinier than a fern frond.
*Slap!*
Clean, crisp smack across my cheek.