Chapter 1: Prologue

Kim Kangchul, the PR department head for the Korean Players Association, let out a sigh.

'Looks like you were very unlucky this time, Mr. Kim Hyukjin.'

There was no other way to put it. Looking at the free government-sponsored 'Player aptitude test results', he let out a sigh.

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Name: Kim Hyukjin

Talent Plates: □■■■■ …… ■■■■■

Talent Type: Cannot be determined

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Here, the '□' indicated active talent plates. '■' were inactive plates. Talent plates were pretty similar to growth plates for bones. Much like how growth plates determined how tall someone would become, talent plates determined one's aptitude. The more talent plates a Player had, the higher their chances were of having their talent bloom.

'So this was the test result five years ago.'

He got into his car, having decided on personally delivering the result to the involved party. This was the last gesture of goodwill he could perform.

As a matter of fact, if this testee had been born in a different era, he would have definitely succeeded at becoming an amazing Player. He had an internationally unprecedented 67 talent plates, after all.

'If you take into account the fact that Korea's talent test can only measure up to 67 plates…'

It was possible he had far more plates than that. To put it in words, this man was a natural genius.

It was to the point that the chairman of the Players Association, Shin Hyungseok, looked at the results and groaned. “Ah… How did we only just find this person?”

It was more of an enraged exclamation than a groan. Why did they only just now discover such a person? In all actuality, he wasn't actually discovered just now. This man with an unbelievable number of talent plates was found five years ago.

'He was a genius, a total genius… There's no point in talking about it now, though.'

Through some awful luck, this man took the test at the same time as the youngest grandson of Sungshin, Korea's greatest chaebol family. That was five years ago. The test results weren't seen by Kim Hyukjin, the test taker himself, but by the youngest member of Sungshin, Song Jinchul. Sungshin checked all test results before any agency could. It was illogical, but that was the custom.

TN: A chaebol is a large industrial conglomerate in South Korea controlled by one person or one family, through family members controlling companies and subsidiaries under them. Think old money. Sungshin is a parody of the chaebol company Samsung.

Back then, Song Jinchul said this:

— 67 talent plates? Talk about bullshit.

Song Jinchul had 44 talent plates. It was quite an outstanding amount of talent, but the chaebol's youngest still felt bad.

— Don't let this piece of trash do anything.

At that time, Kim Kangchul inwardly lamented, 'This moron will once again…'

A person with incredible aptitude that could be Korea's, no, the world's greatest Player would be left to rot. For a brief moment, he thought it was unfair. It was unfair, but nothing could be done about it.

'Is this supposed to make sense?'

He shook his head. It didn't make sense. But it did. This was Korea—no, in other words, this was the Republic of Sungshin. It was a place where this kind of nonsensical thing happened every once in a while, so he decided to just accept it.

'You were unlucky, Mr. Kim Hyukjin. Your opponent is Song Jinchul.'

Song Jinchul was the youngest grandson of the Sungshin family. Kim Hyukjin was an ordinary, perhaps slightly underprivileged, citizen with nothing. From the start, their circumstances of birth were different. Because they were born in different circumstances, there was no other way to put it than 'you were unlucky'.

The results had already been determined five years ago. But recently, he was re-examined under the pretext of a reinspection. Done for free, like an act of benevolence. It definitely wasn't benevolence, but to check his talent plates.

'Only one talent plate is still active.'

Kim Hyukjin was thirty years old. In the latter half of your twenties, your talent plates rapidly close off. It was confirmed that all of his talent plates were closed off. It wouldn't be a lie to say that he was talentless.

As the last act of his conscience, Kim Kangchul went to Kim Hyukjin's semi-basement room and personally handed him his results.

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“I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news. We performed your re-examination, but it was determined that you had no talent.”

Inwardly he thought, 'I'm sorry.'

This 'dead genius' happened to anger Song Jinchul. Kim Kangchul gave him a box of luxury drinks as a measure of consolation and apology. Call him a hypocrite, but this was the best he could do.

“I heard you were studying to take the civil servant exam. Stay strong.”

“Thank you.”

Again, he thought to himself, “You won't… ever pass the exam.”

Because he angered Song Jinchul, of all people. There was no grandiose reason why he never passed the exam despite getting high marks for three years. It could all be boiled down to one phrase.

“You. Were. Unlucky. Mr. Kim Hyukjin.”

In many ways, including being born in Korea.

A semi-basement room. In the past, it was a place where my family welcomed me home, but now, no one was left. It was dark. It attracted humidity. I had become used to this.

The test result I received from Kim Kangchul was short and simple.

[No Talent.]

I didn't really expect anything else. In the first place, I only went to get re-tested because they told me they would do it for free. I looked at the paper again.

[No Talent.]

I simply chuckled. If I had any talent, I would've already awakened as a Player, gotten chosen by a 'Guardian', and be living an extravagant lifestyle.

'Let's focus on studying instead.'

I entertained my vain hope for only a brief moment, only a few seconds. In any case, as a 30-year-old, I was too old to start Playing. At the latest, it was the norm to start Playing in your early 20s.

'Yep, I have to work hard.'

I couldn't think of anything else I could do other than work hard. I had no talent, no connections, and no money. I had already failed the civil servant exam three times. Five years ago, my mother passed away from illness. My older sister said she would take care of me, went to work at a semiconductor factory, and developed leukemia.

'Work hard…'

Somehow, the words 'no talent' stung a little more today than usual. Was I lacking in effort, or talent? Or maybe I was lacking in both? Was it my fault that I was living like this, or society's fault?

I laid down on the bed.

“The world sure is a bitch.”

Everything felt like my fault. Because I wasn't good at studying. Because I couldn't earn a lot of money. Because I didn't have rich parents. Because I didn't put in the effort. Because I didn't overcome the competition. Because I didn't have any talent as a Player.

I looked at the one photo I had left of my mother on my desk. On her final night, she said to me:

“I'm sorry I wanted to be your mother.”

The mother in the photo was smiling, like she was telling me, the only person left in the family, that everything would be fine.

'Don't worry, mom. I'll live well. I'm still doing alright.'

It was the night of April 26, 2028. The day drew to a close with an especially humid evening, without knowing that tomorrow, a completely different day would begin.

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