Twenty years old.
Ji-han quit the game that had consumed his entire teens, and to which he had planned to devote his twenties as well.
Was it because the game was a dying MMORPG, its PC room share declining day by day?
Because he was dumped by his first college girlfriend who told him, ‘It seems like you love games more than me.’?
Because the class he had been leveling for years had been nerfed seven consecutive times?
Because he spent an entire month’s tutoring salary on weapon enhancement, only to have the weapon break without a single success?
No.
None of the above.
The real reason Ji-han quit the game was…
“I liked Noona Starlight first!”
“Shut up! I was the one who texted her first on Kakao!”
“You bastards! She sent me a selfie before anyone else!”
His heart pounding, he had gone to his first guild meeting.
And there, a real-life brawl—a so-called hyeonpi—broke out.
Three men were grabbing each other by the collars, pulling hair, all because of one female guild member who had been stringing along all three in the game.
“Hey, why are they fighting?”
“I heard it’s some game guild meeting. Apparently a woman in that guild was dating three guys at once.”
“Web polygamy? Crazy…”
The gathering turned into a mess. Employees rushed over to separate the tangled three men.
But even when pried apart, they stuck back together like magnets, as if proving what mattered wasn’t the place or others’ gazes, but their unyielding hearts.
It was a Friday night, and the pub famous for its great atmosphere and delicious side dishes was packed.
Customers didn’t even touch the platters of appetizers; they just watched the fight. Some took out phones to snap photos and videos.
There were so many people live-streaming the situation through messengers that they couldn’t be counted. Someone in the corner shouted into their phone, ‘Yeah, that’s right. Saggeori Blossom. f*ck, hurry up and come!’
Finally, a police car arrived.
Ji-han quit the game that day, and not long after, impulsively enlisted in the military.
It was summer.
****
After returning from the military, the dead game he had quit was somehow back from the dead, shittily resurrected.
“What is this plot development?”
He was sitting in a gaming chair at a newly opened PC room in his neighborhood, which had lured customers with a radical promotion offering free ramen to first-time members. Ji-han’s legs were trembling.
For the record, as a local resident, Ji-han had just come to check out the new PC room because a new one had opened nearby. He can’t resist a new PC room. That’s all. He didn’t care about free ramen. Really.
Anyway, Ji-han leaned back in the expensive chair that seemed to incorporate ergonomic technology, wrapping around his body comfortably, and stared at the wide high-spec monitor.
XX PC Room Daily Rankings.
3rd place. Eleven Wizard. (14.9%)
“Fourteen point nine percent…”
Ji-han muttered what he saw out loud and let out a hollow laugh.
Really, even though he was seeing it clearly, he couldn’t believe it.
Could he be mistaken? Maybe it wasn’t Eleven Wizard but rather ‘Eleven Wizurd’? Or ‘Eleven Wizord’ or ‘Wijad’?
Or perhaps it was ‘Eleven Wizboard’ and the reporter accidentally omitted the last letter.
“Bullshit.”
Ji-han spat out the curse. It was a laugh at his own ridiculous thoughts.
No matter how many times he scrutinized it, the letters on the monitor were clearly ‘Eleven Wizard.’
Eleven Wizard.
Among players, it was commonly shortened to just ‘Eleven.’ For reference, no one called it ‘Ilwi.’ Why? Because it sounded lame.
Ji-han closed the internet article he had been reading and sighed. The sigh carried obvious anxiety. He shouldn’t be like this.
Suddenly, regret surged. He shouldn’t have searched. He shouldn’t have looked up PC room game rankings. It was because he hadn’t been to a PC room in so long. Because he was at a loss for what to play…
“But seriously, how did this happen?”
Ji-han bit his lip, unable to take his eyes off the computer monitor displaying only the desktop background.
The MMORPG he had poured his entire life into before throwing himself into the military, Eleven Wizard, had originally been a dead game.
Of course, it wasn’t dead from the start. If it had been, he wouldn’t have started playing. Ji-han had devoted his life to a popular game that everyone was playing, and by the time he had given it his all, the once-popular game had become a dying one.
Anyway, that’s how it was.
Right before Ji-han quit and enlisted, Eleven Wizard’s highest weekly PC room share was 2.9%.
Its lowest share was a mere 1.89%—irrefutably a dead game.
Players gossiped that even a drama gets canceled early with single-digit ratings. Some predicted Eleven Wizard’s service closure date. Polls frequently appeared: ‘Eleven will shut down this year’ vs ‘No it won’t.’
Ji-han always voted ‘No,’ hoping that whoever posted the poll would slip on a banana peel and break their nose like in a slapstick comedy. And he smiled faintly to keep the rising tears from spilling.
“What the hell did they do?”
So flustered, he kept muttering to himself, something he rarely did. Anyone seeing him would think he had lived as a hermit in a cave for thirty years. In fact, Ji-han had lived with his family his whole life except when he was in the military.
“Did they hold an event where if you play Eleven for 30 hours at a PC room, you get a PC room of your own through a lottery? Otherwise…”
If such an event existed, even Ji-han might have participated once. But no. It wasn’t that.
“Ah, shit.”
In the end, Ji-han got angry for no reason and abruptly stood up from the gaming chair.
What if Eleven had actually shut down? Maybe that would have been better.
Right now, he felt that would have been preferable. The dead game he quit had become a thriving hit? That was truly absurd…
Ji-han left the computer on and walked away from the seat. Since it was prepaid, it would turn off on its own. He hadn’t signed up for membership. He really didn’t care about ramen.
As Ji-han opened the door to leave the PC room, two teenage-looking male students walked in, chattering loudly.
“You’re playing Eleven, right?”
“f*cking obviously.”
“What level are you?”
“Hit 149 yesterday.”
“Ugh, game addict.”
“Yeah, you’re worse~”
Ji-han stopped in his tracks.
No one noticed him, alone in his immense sorrow. Ji-han was being consumed by loneliness, pain, and darkness.
‘Please save the continent trapped in darkness.’
Suddenly, a famous NPC quote from Eleven Wizard came to mind. Ji-han had once chosen a class that walked the path of light, answering that NPC’s plea, and energetically saved the continent trapped in darkness and distress.
But now, it was Ji-han who was trapped in darkness.
‘Who would save me, trapped in darkness?’
Ji-han left the PC room, feeling forlorn.
****
“Kang Ji-han! Over here!”
“It’s been forever.”
“Did you have fun at the camp?”
The pub in the bustling area was noisy from early evening. Ji-han plopped down in his empty seat.
“Long time no see. The camp was awesome. You wanna go? I’ll write you a recommendation.”
“Recommendation, you crazy bastard.”
“You should have re-enlisted.”
“Since Ji-han’s here, let’s order another round of side dishes. Could we get the menu, please!”
Ji-han looked around at his noisy friends. He had seen them individually, but this was the first time all five had gathered together since his discharge.
“…Seeing you guys, I feel good.”
“…What’s wrong with him?”
“Did the camp fry his brain?”
“Ah, I think I know.”
A friend sitting to Ji-han’s right propped his chin on intertwined hands and spoke.
“A hundred percent, it’s because Kang Juyeon got a boyfriend.”
“Kang Juyeon has a boyfriend?”
“She’s had one for a while. You guys, check Instagram.”
“Why would I use Instagram? It’s a total waste of life.”
“Typical guy. Claims SNS is a waste of life.”
“Ah, shut up! Instagram addict, go away.”
Ji-han frowned slightly as he listened to his friends chatter. Kang Juyeon? That name sounded familiar. Who was she again?
“…Looks like Ji-han doesn’t remember Kang Juyeon?”
“He’s pretending. Of course it’s a memory he wants to erase. Admit it: he got dumped before even hitting 100 days of dating, then threw himself into the army.”
“Hey, Kang Ji-han. Since we’re on the subject, let me ask. Did you really enlist because Kang Juyeon dumped you?”
Ji-han snapped back to reality. Now he remembered who Kang Juyeon was. She was his first and ex-girlfriend, who had dated him for exactly 77 days before breaking up.