#1.
"Manager Lee, you've worked hard. I really didn't want to let you go like this, you know."
Assistant Manager Lee Ji-han had no idea what kind of expression he was supposed to make in response to his department head's awkward smile.
Why it had to be him who got cut from the company, not the incompetent section chief—he couldn't understand any of it.
"I know you stayed up night after night to meet deadlines. And I made sure to negotiate your severance pay so you'll get a good sum."
He had lived diligently.
Not once in his life had he ever lived lazily.
Not when he was on the national gymnastics reserve team, not even when he learned that he had concentration overload syndrome.
Even when he was forced to give up gymnastics, the career he'd devoted his life to, due to an overwork injury. Even on the day he joined a small, ordinary company for the sake of his family.
Even in this very moment.
"…Again, again you're not listening. Sigh."
"Sorry?"
"See? Communication is the most important thing. Communication. Work, social life—it's all communication. What's the point of working hard if you're just lost in your own little world like this?"
To that, Lee Ji-han couldn't give any reply. Not only was it not worth responding to, but also—what could he possibly say?
"…I'm sorry."
A high school graduate, with nothing he could really say he was skilled at.
Maybe gymnastics, but his body was now too broken from permanent injuries to even exercise.
In the short time he worked as a sales rep at this small firm, his self-esteem had been torn to shreds.
"Eh, forget it. Why am I even saying all this? Still, thank you for everything until now, Manager Lee. I hope things work out wherever you go. Don't take this too hard, alright?"
With lips tightly shut, Lee Ji-han left the tiny company he'd belonged to.
"…You're saying that like it's something to brag about?"
"It's not bragging."
"You couldn't even say anything back. God, it's suffocating!"
His friend, the only friend he had—Kim Soo-ho, who had been a thorn in his side since childhood—slapped his own chest in frustration and downed his beer.
"…Other employees said similar things. Seniors, juniors too."
A bitter smile crept onto Lee Ji-han's lips.
Seeing that, Soo-ho, fired up with anger, slammed his fist into Ji-han's shoulder hard enough to make a loud smack.
"Ah! Ow! That really hurts!"
"I don't get why you live like such a pushover. It's so frustrating, seriously."
"…I was grateful, you know. That was the only company willing to take me, with this wrecked body."
Concentration overload syndrome.
Once Ji-han focused on something, he couldn't pull himself away.
He wouldn't even notice his body breaking down, or hear people calling him from around him.
He belonged to the kind who could only finish what they were doing once their compulsion was satisfied.
"Everyone said I was burdensome. That I scared them. …My mentors, even my juniors. They'd go pale."
It wasn't normal ADHD. It was closer to an obsessive disorder, but no matter how many hospitals he went to, no real diagnosis came out of it.
"Hey, that damn company didn't take you in out of kindness. They needed someone cheap who'd work all night by himself. Weren't they insanely busy?"
"Maybe so."
"Even a bum like me, who quit jobs to do streaming, can see you're a pushover. Geez."
A bum.
Lee Ji-han envied Soo-ho.
The type who had to do whatever he wanted to feel satisfied. The type who could chase his dream without stopping.
"…Still, I envy you."
"You envy me? A bum?"
Whenever he looked at Soo-ho, it felt like his own clock had stopped at a certain point.
His arms, shoulders, legs, back.
Injuries so severe there wasn't a single part of him unscathed, forcing him to quit gymnastics.
Ji-han's time had stopped there.
"Yeah, I envy you."
"If you're jealous, then slack off too. Oh right, you got fired, huh? Then take this chance to relax for once."
"…I need to find another job. My parents worked so hard for me."
From fourth grade until adulthood—twelve years—Ji-han had lived as a gymnast.
Yes, the school board, his school, and the association had supported him somewhat, but raising a single athlete cost a fortune.
So his parents had to back him no matter what. His one precious little sister had to give up so much.
That's why—for the family who sacrificed everything for him—he pushed his body to its limits.
Breaking unofficial records again and again, he seemed poised to make the national reserve team. But then, the inexplicable "concentration overload syndrome" shackled him.
"I have to repay them."
"No, your mom and dad aren't in that bad of shape! Why do you feel like you owe them? Huh? Ah, but I guess it's weird hearing that from me."
"I owe my sister too."
"Repaying's important, but resting is too. You said your symptoms flare up when you're stressed, right? Forcing yourself to focus, staying up all night. Even your parents called me recently, saying you're destroying yourself at work. They told me to take you out, help you breathe a little."
It didn't sound like a lie.
In fact, Soo-ho was far more personable than him.
He treated Ji-han's parents like his own, even acting cute like he was their real son.
"…So how exactly am I supposed to breathe easier?"
"Knew you'd say that. I've found you a way."
With a sly grin, Soo-ho said—
"What about trying gaming?"
"That thing you do?"
"Exactly. I read about people with physical or mental problems using full-dive VR for rehab. It's apparently pretty effective."
"Huh?"
"Stuff like social anxiety or panic disorders—they treat it with this. So how about giving it a shot?"
Soo-ho grinned again.
Ji-han, for no reason, flicked a peanut at his face and let out a long sigh.
"I don't need rehab. Probably."
"I'm just saying play lightly. And nowadays there are plenty of quick, casual games. Plus, the capsule's got alarms built in—you can set it, and it'll force you to stop when it's time."
Though they were a bad match, at times like this Soo-ho always thought of Ji-han like it was his own problem.
Moved by his sincerity, Ji-han said—
"So how do I start, then?"
"Oh, you'll try it? Nice. Then first—drink. Let's drink. Drink, then think! C'mon, cheers!"
…Almost moved. Almost.
But no, this guy wasn't a friend.
"He's a thorn in my side."
Clearly, filling his liver with alcohol took priority over satisfying his curiosity.
"…Cheers."
So for the first time, Ji-han drank with Soo-ho until he was completely wasted.
His throat was dry.
Maybe because he'd drunk himself silly for the first time yesterday, his memory was patchy in places.
And when he opened his eyes to a strange ceiling, he realized this wasn't his home but Soo-ho's.
"…This is… a capsule?"
He wasn't the type to touch his friend's stuff without permission. But Soo-ho had said it multiple times last night.
—Hey hey, sleep over at my place and try it in the morning. Just one match and you'll get it. It's amazing. Fourth round at my place, yeah?
"…So I just get in. And then…"
Ji-han picked up the card left on the table and slid it into the capsule.
Click.
—That card's your body-scan card. It's like your capsule ID. Aside from physical theft or pickpocketing, it's super safe. So don't lose it, always keep it with you.
So even drunk, he'd gone through the body scan.
Remembering last night's events, Ji-han couldn't help but smile—it felt like a little rebellion.
Whirrr.
Lying inside the capsule, he retraced his fragmented memories and powered it on.
—The trending game? You know this hyung's a killer streamer, right? A real skill streamer. Zero Ground—that's the hot game right now. What kind? Well…
He'd said you'd know once you tried it.
Ji-han tapped the Zero Ground icon.
And entered the game.
Vrrrrmmm!
At first, his vision flickered.
Then his hangover-throbbing head shook violently, his stomach churning.
But wasn't this capsule supposed to be expensive? Ji-han clenched his teeth, forcing himself not to vomit.
"…Ah."
Suddenly, a metallic scent stabbed his nose.
He was standing in a hangar.
Behind him loomed a massive plane capable of carrying dozens of people.
—Let me explain simply. Solo, duo, trio, squad—forget all that, always go solo. And don't bother checking Silver, Gold, Platinum ranks, just stick to normal matches.
"Normal matches?"
But Ji-han didn't know.
That there were two kinds of normal matches.
One, casual normal games with no MMR, just for fun.
"This one, right?"
And the other—
The so-called "Unlimited Channel." A graveyard of streamers, a playground for pros and veterans to test new builds and techniques. Pure hell.
Ji-han had no idea which he chose. But one thing was certain.
—Prepare to drop!
As matchmaking completed, his vision shifted.
A roaring wind battered his body.
The unbelievable level of immersion.
He'd never stood on a plane before, but if he ever had to prepare for a real drop, would it feel like this?
—Drop!
One by one, people jumped.
And instinctively, Ji-han threw himself into the blue sky after them.
Whhheeeeeee!
He didn't know the controls.
But when he willed his body to move, it moved. To run, he ran. To jump, he jumped.
A strange, wondrous sensation—and he found himself smiling.
Pop!
The parachute opened.
Ji-han landed slowly, safely, on the ground.
—Survive. Until the very end. (100/100)
A clear goal.
He instinctively entered an empty building.
[Ga-ha]
[What the? Did the host come back?]
[Didn't he say he was taking the day off to see a friend?]
[Knew it when he left without turning the stream off. You think you can escape our 20-man death squad?]
[Wait, not the host?]
[? Then who is it?]
A small window popped up in his lower-left vision, lines of text streaming rapidly.
But Ji-han didn't see any of it.
How could he, when his senses were so heightened by this near-reality immersion?
[He's not looking here?]
[Who is that?]
[The host's stream got hijacked? Who's this guy?]
His senses were sharp.
The air, the wind, the smell, his vision—everything brushed past his body.
Perhaps even these small details piled into stress, narrowing his vision until—
Only one thing remained: survive.
"…So… survive against what, exactly?"
He'd started the game, but was blank on how to achieve the goal.
[Is that a newbie?]
[No way, there are newbies in this game?]
[But where did he spawn?]
[Isn't that… Unlimited Channel?]
Rat-tat-tat-tat!
Suddenly, gunfire exploded.
"Wha!?"
Ji-han instinctively ducked.
The gunfire sounded utterly real.
As if he were in the middle of an actual battlefield.
"…I need to dodge bullets?"
And not just bullets.
BOOM!
A shell exploded in front of his building, flames roaring high.
Deafened by blasts, Ji-han's body moved on instinct, crawling along the floor to the back of the building.
[LOL he's crawling? Just hide behind cover, dude!]
[This raw, primal vibe—how long has it been since I've felt this?]
[He really is a newbie. Host! The hacker who hijacked your stream is a Zero Ground newbie!]
Taunts kept streaming on the bottom left.
But they didn't matter to Ji-han.
He only moved to survive.
[Look at that serious face, lol.]
[But isn't he kinda handsome? Annoying.]
[Host! The hacker hijacking your stream is a good-looking Zero Ground newbie! Get up already, come on!]
And then—
He stopped.
After crawling a long time, the gunfire and explosions ceased.
[? What's he gonna do?]
[He stood up?]
And then—
Rat-tat-tat!
[LOL he's fast as hell]
[What is he, a track star?]
[He just runs? Dude, pick up a gun, newbie!]
He sprinted. Simply ran.
[? Doesn't he see ahead?]
[There's a gun! Hey! Don't you see the muzzle sticking out behind that tree?]
[Oh man, he's just gonna run straight into death.]
Snap!
A hidden player leapt out, gun raised.
A finger tightened on the trigger—slowly.
Not that the player was actually pulling it in slow motion.
Click!
"Huh?"
BANG!
[Huh?]
[?]
[What was that?]
[??????]
It was just that Ji-han's time slowed down.
When he entered a concentration overload state, his senses sharpened and time felt stretched.
And that was happening now.
Fwoosh!
The time it took for the ambusher to fire.
The bullet flashing from the muzzle.
The instant Ji-han noticed it.
All of it happened in a fraction of a second.
Whirr!
Ji-han hurled his body skyward.
A leap, a midair spin.
The acrobatic movements he'd practiced all his life unfolded perfectly.
[Holy crap, what the hell was that?]
[That's actually possible?]
[What did I just see??]
To viewers, it was something they'd never witnessed before.
"…So I can dodge like this?"
Olympics, gymnastics, national teams—
All those things had faded from public memory.
But here, in the corner of a full-dive game—
"…Easy."
A new history was beginning.
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