Chapter 1
In a dark room on the tenth floor of a building, frantic keyboard sounds echoed. They were so fast, it almost seemed like the person behind them was mashing keys at random. Cans and snack wrappers were scattered all over the floor. The only sources of light were the monitor and the keyboard. The mouse darted back and forth in quick, fluid, machine-like motions.
The player was dominating—completely obliterating the competition—yet his face showed no sign of satisfaction. Instead, frustration twisted his expression.
"This one's too easy too..." His voice was sluggish and tired, yet simmering with rage.
The voice belonged to a 26-year-old man named Karyun. His appearance was pitiful: deep, dark eye bags that looked like makeup, dull blue eyes struggling to stay open, and unkempt, greasy hair as black as a raven's feathers. Stray strands drooped over what might have been a beard.
Anyone could tell Karyun didn't care about his looks—he was completely disheveled.
He'd been playing the same game for 28 straight hours. His goal was simple: beat it as fast as possible. That was his thrill. But it wasn't just any game—it was an "Inferno" tier game. "Inferno" games were known for their insane difficulty—so brutal that most players couldn't even finish them. That's exactly what Karyun craved: impossibly hard games.
"Haah!" After a long while, he finally let go of the keyboard and mouse and stretched, almost melting into his chair. "28 hours, 13 minutes, and 21 seconds... Hmm... thought it'd take longer. What was the current world record again?"
He minimized the game and opened the website where gaming records were logged. It was a popular platform called Supreme Achievement, known for tracking all kinds of gaming records—speedruns included.
The game was *The Twenty Dimensions*, a moderately popular title. In it, a hero had to forge an artifact to save his broken world. The artifact was shattered into 20 pieces, each hidden in a completely different dimension. The hero had to retrieve them all, battling numerous enemies and bosses along the way.
Though the premise was good, the story was garbage, and the gameplay was only average. What made the game stand out was its brutally unfair difficulty.
Karyun navigated to the relevant category and went straight to the top 10 leaderboard.
102 hours, 7 minutes, and 58 seconds. The gap was insane. There was no comparing the times. Karyun smirked as he clicked the comments under the record.
"Whoa, is this even possible?! That's nuts! No one compares to Lord Psychotic!"
"Don't be dumb. He totally cheated. Probably edited something."
"You're just a salty loser."
"No, that guy's right! He beat the second place by 8 hours! Lord Psychotic's a fraud!!!"
"Ha! Kiss my ass, scrubs."
Karyun found it hilarious. What would they say if they saw his time? He bet not one person would believe it was legit. He'd posted some of his records before, and just as he expected, nobody believed them—even with full video proof. The times were so absurdly fast, often four to five times quicker than previous records, that everyone cried foul.
Those who had actually played the game were even more skeptical, having suffered firsthand through its difficulty. The comments were full of accusations—claims that he edited the footage or used a bot. The uproar grew so large the site had to remove his records from the leaderboard. Eventually, Karyun gave up on submitting his times.
He reached toward the edge of his desk, searching for his energy drink. When he picked it up, he noticed it was empty. He hadn't even realized he'd finished it. He got up and left the room.
He walked to the fridge, hoping to find one last can. No luck. He'd have to buy more. Problem was, he was broke—he'd spent his last bit of cash on the game.
He grabbed his phone and quickly dialed a number. The person on the other end picked up immediately.
"Hello?"
"Hey, it's me."
"Ooh, Karyun! Thought you'd still be grinding that game I sold you." The other voice was upbeat, sounding like a salesman spotting a juicy lead. His name was Giam.
"I already finished it."
"What?! No way... It's barely been two days! Hahaha! You're scary, man. So, what'd you think?"
"Easy."
"Huh?"
Giam was speechless. He knew pro-level gamers who'd said *The Twenty Dimensions* was the hardest game they'd ever played.
"Man... finding a challenge for you is gonna be a nightmare."
Giam ran a game shop and constantly hunted down "Inferno" tier games for Karyun. He'd realized early on that his client wasn't just any gamer—he was a freakishly talented maniac.
"So... want a new game?" Giam was clearly hopeful. Karyun was his best customer when it came to hardcore games.
"Nope. No money left. Has that guy paid for the Elite Mage account boost yet?"
Karyun didn't have a formal job. His only income came from leveling up accounts for other players. It wasn't limited to one game—most requests were for much easier titles than Inferno games, so it was a joke for him. His alias, God Ryun, was famous on a site called *Pay to Go Up*, and he got daily requests. Too lazy to manage it himself, he let Giam handle the account and only took on the good-paying ones.
"Not yet, but I can transfer you some and deduct it once it comes in."
Despite being a mercenary, Giam wasn't stingy. He helped Karyun however he could. Honestly, he was probably the closest thing Karyun had to a friend.
"No interest, right?" Karyun asked automatically.
"Who do you think I am?!" Mercenary or not, he was still human. "Oh, right! Wasn't today your sister's birthday? Did you call her?"
"..."
"Texted her at least?"
"..."
Karyun didn't have a good relationship with his family—and it was his fault.
"I'll do it later."
"If you say so... I'll send the money. Later."
After confirming the transfer, Karyun took the elevator down and walked toward a convenience store.
On the way, he thought about his sister. It had been five years since he last had any contact with his family—not even a simple "good morning."
He'd locked himself in his room ever since finishing high school. Only left to buy snacks or drinks. Rarely talked to anyone, even those in the same house. When he did, he wouldn't look them in the eye. His family tried everything to pull him out of that rut. His sister was the last to give up—and because she tried the hardest, she was also the most hurt.
He ignored every word she said. Lost himself in games. Forgot family birthdays. Skipped every celebration. The final straw for her was when she begged him for a week to attend her university graduation—but he didn't go. She'd never been so heartbroken. He remembered the last time they "spoke":
"You can't stay like this forever, Karyun. One day, games won't be fun anymore. Then you'll regret it—but by then, it'll be too late. No one will be there for you."
That was the last time he heard her voice. After that, he used his account-leveling money to rent a small room. Living at home had become unbearable. He didn't think much about her words back then... but the part about games losing their fun? She nailed it.
He had loved games since he was a kid. But he didn't just play casually. For him, the fun came from mastering them. He couldn't stop until he was the best. He'd study strategies, movement, mechanics—turning games into research material.
And it never felt like a chore. It was thrilling. He'd smile ear to ear during sessions. Beating a hard game made him feel like he'd conquered the world.
When he discovered Inferno games, it was like stumbling onto a grand feast. That was when he shut himself away completely.
Karyun didn't exactly regret it. He was never that social anyway. Not that he disliked people—he just didn't care. But lately, his sister's words echoed more and more.
His big grin and constant excitement had turned into a tired, frustrated look. Part of it was how easy everything felt now. He hadn't faced a real challenge in years. Gaming had become hollow—a habit.
"Maybe there's no place left for me in this world."
That thought haunted him constantly.
"We've found another potential challenger."
A voice shattered the silence.
Startled, Karyun jumped and spun around. No one was there. It was ten at night. The street was empty, with only distant cars passing by.
He could've sworn the voice was right behind him—mere inches from his ear.
"What the hell?!"
Had he started hallucinating? Staying awake this long was clearly messing with him. He'd just grab the drinks, chill them, and crash.
"But... that voice felt too real."
At the store, he entered without a word—just nodded at the cashier. Went straight for the junk food aisle. He knew his diet was trash, but like any good addict, knowing something was bad never stopped him.
He filled his basket with chips, cookies, and snacks. Grabbed energy drinks from the freezer. Paid and left.
Walking back, he stared at his phone. The question was simple: Should he call his sister? It had been so long, he didn't even know what she was up to.
"Maybe she's an executive now? Climbed the corporate ladder? Met someone? Got married?"
He knew nothing. And to think, when they were kids, they shared everything. Now, thanks to his own choices, he was just a stranger.
"Come on. I've got nothing to lose. What's there to fear?"
He found her contact and called. The phone rang for a long time, but no answer. He left a voicemail.
"Hey... it's been a while, huh? Mary, it's me—Karyun. I don't even know if you're still mad at me... or if you've already forgotten I exist. Maybe thinking about me just hurts..."
He paused, struggling to find the right words.
"You were right... who'd have thought, huh? My life's a mess. Games stopped being fun ages ago. I've been thinking of getting a job, changing things... finding new challenges. I... wanted to say sorry. I know it's been years, but I never even apologized—and you deserved one. You always tried to help. You were the last to give up on me. And look at me... I didn't even show up for the most important moment in your life. I'm sorry, Mary."
A tear rolled down his cheek. He couldn't remember the last time he cried.
"Happy birthday, sis. I hope you're happy. Goodbye."
"I didn't even realize how much I missed her."
The dull routine had numbed his emotions. He finally understood—he couldn't hide forever. Truth is, he'd just been a coward all these years.
He felt it had taken him too long to realize that, but now—
Suddenly, his body began to glow. A bright, shimmering yellow light engulfed him, so intense he had to squint. His whole body shone—even his clothes. He felt weightless, like he might float.
"Hey, hey, hey! What's going on?!"
A buzzing filled his ears. Something was definitely wrong.
"Challenger accepted. Teleportation process initialized."
"What?!"
It was the same voice as before—louder now, like it was inside his head. The light grew brighter, and his body started losing its shape. "Challenger? It said that earlier... what does that mean?"
"Challenger registered. Teleportation process complete."
Karyun felt his body stretch like a long noodle. The glow peaked, blinding yellow swallowing everything. Right before he blacked out, he heard one last thing—but this time, it was a different voice:
"Welcome, Externals. I'm honored to receive you in the Tower of Supremes."