Money can't buy happiness. That's bullshit spouted by folks who've never stared down an empty fridge—or watched the one person who meant everything slip away right in front of them. Money buys time.
And time's the only thing I'm after.
Cold sweat had already glued my shirt to my back before the sun even thought about climbing. The air in Uncle's warehouse hung heavy, thick with dust and the sour stink of old rice. I heaved another sack up—shoulders burning like fire, joints grinding like they might snap. Grains scattered in the weak morning light sneaking through the warped wooden walls.
"Hyun-ah, that's enough," Uncle's gravel voice sliced the quiet. His rough hand clapped my shoulder. "Go home. Get some rest."
I shook my head, swiping sweat off my forehead with a filthy sleeve. "I'm good, Uncle. Just a bit more. Won't kill me." The cash it'd bring might only stretch to painkillers—but nothing beat zero.
Uncle let out a sigh, his sharp eyes flicking over me, mixing pride with that damn pity. I knew what he was thinking: If only Jinwoo had half your backbone...
I bowed quick and trudged off down the empty dirt path home. This village—fresh air, fields stretching forever—might as well be bars on a cage. Three years back, things were different. City apartment, sleek and buzzing, us laughing like we owned the world. Dad, eyes lit with that endless fire, showed me his first VR pod—a gateway to worlds without end.
Then the phone buzzed.
"Accident."
Everything froze.
Dad was gone. Took the flash, the security, all of it with him.
Mom, always fragile, shattered clean through. Not just her body—her heart too deep to patch. We bolted the city, crawled back to her old hometown, started from scratch. Sold whatever we could, even Dad's dream: that VR rental joint.
I shoved open our plain wooden door, forcing a weak smile for Mom and little Sora.
"Mom, Sora, I'm ba—"
Words jammed in my throat.
No warmth waiting.
A soup bowl lay smashed on the floor, broth spilled like spilled tears. Sora, just ten, knelt in the mess, sobbing her guts out. Her small hands clutched Mom's limp arm—Mom sprawled unconscious on the cold tiles, face white as death.
"Oppa!" Sora's scream ripped raw with terror. "Mom... she just...!" She couldn't get it out. Her tiny frame shook.
The room spun.
Cash I'd gripped tight tumbled loose, scattering like trash.
No. Not again. Please, no.
Instinct kicked in. I lunged forward, dropped beside her. Fingers shaking bad, pressed her neck—hunting pulse. There. Faint. Erratic. Breaths shallow as whispers. No time for doubt. Scooped her feather-light body up. Too light. Way too light.
"Call the ambulance! Now, Sora!" I barked, voice cracking.
I hauled her out, bolted for the nearest clinic, legs pumping fire. Sora stumbled after, cries echoing. Each step clawed at me. Dad's morgue-pale face flashed over and over.
"Exhaustion. Stress," the doc said flat in the stark white room. Mom on the bed, IV dripping slow. "She's declining. Complications, plus emotional load she can't carry. Needs that specialist care we talked about. Yesterday."
I nodded, mouth sand-dry. Fists balled till nails bit skin.
Stress.
Poverty stress. Widow stress. Single-mom-with-two-kids stress. The kind I couldn't punch away.
Hours on, Uncle, Aunt, Jinwoo showed. Room thickened with worry, fear's sharp tang. Aunt scooped up still-weeping Sora. Jinwoo—Mr. Smiles usually—frowned deep. Dragged me out.
Night air hit cool. I slumped against the clinic wall, head down. Body and mind crashed hard.
"She'll pull through, Hyun," Jinwoo tried. "Docs here'll—"
"How long, Jinwoo?" My voice scraped out, not even mine. Cut him dead. "'Pull through' till it's 'too late'?"
Looked up. Eyes bloodshot, feral probably. "Heard kidneys fetch big. Liver chunk too. Not like I need all of it, right?"
Jinwoo's stare bugged. Grabbed my shoulders, shook. "You nuts?! Hear yourself? Mom needs you breathing, whole—not chopped up in some back-alley hack shop! Cut that shit!"
Shoved him off, rage boiling over despair. "THEN WHAT? WATCH HER DIE?!"
Jinwoo sucked deep breath, forced steady. "Other play. Safer." Leaned in, voice drop. "Lucidia World. Weekly arena tourney. Prize: ten million credits. Cash, straight up."
A game? Stared like he'd grown horns. "Game? I got no Genesis ID card, Jinwoo! Can't even log in!"
"Your dad..." Jinwoo pressed, eyes sparking. "Ran that old VR shop, beta-tested Lucidia. What if his account's still live?"
A spark—thin, flickering—lit the black.
Dad's account?
Uncle's back warehouse was a dust-choked grave of old ghosts. Yanked the heavy tarp—and there: Dad's ancient VR pod. Once a launchpad to glory, now a relic. Hands unsteady, wiped logo clean.
His dream. His fire.
My Hail Mary.
Rifled through, found it.
Plain metal card jammed in the console. No frills, no name. Just etched steel: #000003.
Held it like it burned holy.
That night, Sora crashed at neighbor's. Climbed in the pod. Door hissed shut, real world sealed out. Just machine hum and my hammering pulse.
"Please," I muttered, throat raw. "Work."
Slid the card.
Green blink.
BEEP.
Reality blurred. White-hot light swallowed me. Epic digital vista bloomed around.
WELCOME TO LUCIDIA WORLD.
System voice, smooth and blank, echoed in my skull.
"Scanning profile... Recognized. Beta #000003. Welcome back, User Lee."
Relief hit like a gut punch. Tears pricked. It worked.
Class pick now. Warrior? Tanky, straightforward. Mage? Nuke from range. Whatever—I'd grind it out.
"Account upgraded. Select class."
Smile died.
Screen for [Warrior], [Mage], [Archer]... blank. Empty void. Heart slammed. What the hell?
Then, dead center, one line ignited—old glow, eerie.
[Class: ——— (Beta Privilege: UNBOUND)]
[UNBOUND: Full skill tree access. All executed manual.]
"Unbound?" Muttered, chill crawling. "No class?"
No argue time. World lurched. Dumped in Tutorial Zone—serene green meadow, snarling Ogre (Lv. 1) blocking ahead. Newbies popped in around, faces lit awe and hype.
Then magic hit them.
Kid raised hand. White flash. Steel sword materialized. "[Warrior] locked! Skill: [Power Slash]!"
Girl nearby spawned fireball, grinning. "[Mage]! [Ember] acquired!"
My hands? Empty.
Weak hiss. [Training Wooden Sword]—beat-up, splintered—dropped in.
No flash. No skills. Nada.
"No class. No skills. Good luck."
"No..." Throat thick with fury, hopelessness. "This can't..."
System quest pinged all:
[Tutorial: Slay Training Ogre!]
[Reward: Novice Sword, 100 Gold]
They swarmed—new skills blazing. Arrows whistled. Fireballs boomed. Swords gleamed. Ogre's bar melted. Minutes later, roar—poof. Loot snatched, victors gone.
I watched sidelined, clutching that sad stick. Envy choked tight.
They had paths. System crutches. Me? Jack shit.
Fresh Ogre spawned, bellowing challenge. Rest cleared out. Just me and it—meadow gone vast, dead quiet.
Deep breath. Locked its red glare.
Mom's clinic-pale face seared my core.
"No choice," I growled, voice steady under shake.
Charged, yelling, flailing wood wild. Pure gut emotion. Ogre shrugged me like fly. Lazy swipe—its club-fist caved me.
Virtual pain stabbed real-sharp. Screen flickered.
[DEATH.]
Black.
Respawn. Start over. Ogre waited, smirking almost.
Grimaced, charged again. Same end. [DEATH.]
Again. Again.
Die. Spawn. Swing. Die. Spawn. Swing.
Hell-loop to crush souls. Frustration scorched. But quit? Mom's face, Sora's sobs, doc's "stress"—yanked me up every time.
Slow shift crept.
Rage honed sharp. Ogre stopped monster, became tells.
There—right shoulder twitch pre-overhead. Hard snort before rush. Post-sweep, left leg hung open half-beat...
Virtual muscles remembered hits. From one-shot fodder, I dragged two, three exchanges. Dodged, parried splinters, poked cheap shots.
Three hours ticked.
In-game sun dipped, sky bruising orange-purple.
Both wrecks. Ragged breaths, virtual bruises everywhere. My HP sliver-red. Its too.
Circled wary.
Endurance war—and I'd outlasted everyone, self included.
Ogre snapped desperate. Final bull-rush—bulk a freight train.
World shifted.
Slow-mo grip. Wind howl, roar—muffled. No beast terror. Just machine: predictable gears, levers. Pattern flaw: collarbone flicker—armor hairline crack unseen till now.
No yell. No fury. Ice calm.
"Over," I breathed.
Last gasp, vaulted into it—not away. Twisted millimeters past claws. Two-hand wood thrust arrow-true.
THUNK.
Dull crunch. Impossible—stick punched clean through.
Ogre locked, eyes popping shock. Glanced down at impale—up to sky—shattered light cascade.
DING!
[Tutorial Clear!]
Legs buckled. Knees, then face-planted grass. No whoop left. No grin. Just stared darkening sky, relief flooding deep—one tear tracked dirty cheek.
Did it.
Missed [Novice Sword] ping.
Three-hour grind drained me black. Peaceful void as sleep took in virtual grass.
DING! DING! DING!
Ghost screen erupted glows.
[Achievement: First Beta Login - 10 Years!]
[Achievement: World First - Classless Tutorial!]
[Hidden: Unbound Will Complete.]
[Reward: ??? - Pending...]
Real world—my shell rested easy in pod.
But distant, dark control room, holo-screens pulsing Lucidia's heartbeat—red alarm wailed.
[ALERT: BETA #000003 - USER HYUN LEE - REACTIVATED. CLASS: UNBOUND. TUTORIAL: DONE.]
Slim elegant hand extended, zoomed my sleeping mug.
"Well, well..." silky-danger voice shattered silence.
"Finally. Welcome, legend's son.
We've waited."