Story 3 — Missing Child

Yoo Joonghyuk's day started like this.

After making strong coffee and cutting a few slices of rye bread he bought yesterday, he grilled a piece of chicken breast that had been marinated to soften it. Eggs were being fried in a small pan. It was important that the yolk remained intact and that the fried egg retained its original shape.

Yoo Joonghyuk fried the egg whites for a moment, then gently lifted the pan to place the eggs and cooked chicken breast on a plate. He added red amaranth and washed lettuce, and finally poured the tomato juice that Yoo Mia would drink into a cup.

"Yes!"

When he picked up the plate and looked back, he saw Yoo Mia climbing onto the chair next to the dining table with sparkling eyes.

Yoo Joonghyuk placed two plates and two cups in their usual positions.

Looking back and forth at the food on the plate, Yoo Mia pouted.

“Veggie.”

“Yes, it's vegetables.”

“Veggie doesn't taste good.”

“This vegetable is delicious.”

“But hum, I want some sausage.”

“There are eggs.”

“Yes.”

“Chicken breast, too.”

"Boring."

"Eat it."

Yoo Joonghyuk furrowed his dark eyebrows and said to Yoo Mia,

“What you eat represents who you are.”

Yoo Mia glared at her tiny fist and then at the egg on the plate. The girl seemed to be muttering something like 'I don't want to eat.' Yoo Joonghyuk looked at Yoo Mia for a moment. He chewed and swallowed a piece of egg and opened his phone.

— Sliding downhill without braking. Does Team Ash's reputation end here?

— 'The fall of the Ash Dynasty is approaching.'

— Ash faces the risk of losing his ticket to the play-off round after consecutive defeats.

— Losing 2–3 to Viking, Ash's failure to qualify for the play-offs is right in front of him.

— Rumors of discord within Ash's team…

Looking at the articles that appeared like mushrooms after rain on the portal homepage, darkness briefly clouded Yoo Joonghyuk's eyes.

Team Ash.

That was the team he won the championship with for the first time, and it was currently one of the top esports teams in Korea.

But recently, his team had been in decline.

Yoo Joonghyuk read the comments under the article.

— Ash lost again?

— Turn off the stream.

— My blood is boiling :)))) Honestly, it wasn't Yoo Joonghyuk's fault that we lost this match?

— (Comment has been hidden due to report)

Yoo Joonghyuk looked at the last comment for a long time. Although he couldn't see the content, he could guess a part of it through the replies below.

— But Yoo Joonghyuk is truly an orphan, so it probably won't hurt him at all, right?

Orphan.

Yoo Joonghyuk glanced at the word with expressionless eyes. Such words could not affect him. On the contrary, it was the words that didn't appear that bothered him.

— (Comment has been hidden due to report)

How long had he been staring at the screen? The screen timed out and turned black, reflecting his face.

Suddenly, the muscles in his right arm contracted. Lately, this had been happening often. Even when he was eating, typing, or controlling the mouse. Perhaps it was due to a lack of nutrients.

"Obaboni."

She couldn't pronounce 'oppa' or 'oraboni' correctly yet [1]. Thinking back, Yoo Joonghyuk had never taught her the word 'oraboni,' so he was suddenly curious to know where she had learned it.

Yoo Mia just pointed her fork at the plate in front of Yoo Joonghyuk.

“Please.”

“……?”

“Please rest.”

Yoo Joonghyuk sat deciphering the meaning of that sentence for a while, then he skewered the egg Yoo Mia had saved and ate it right in front of her.

“Ugh! Mia's snack!”

Yoo Mia puffed her cheeks.

Looking at the girl's identical dark eyes, Yoo Joonghyuk realized that a new day had begun.

“Joonghyuk, are you still eating well?”

They were driving to the team's practice room.

Manager Kang Woohyun looked worriedly through the rearview mirror at Yoo Joonghyuk.

"Your face looks so thin. You have to eat well to play well."

“I eat well.”

“Just lettuce and chicken breast, right? What kind of diet is that? Let's eat some rice. Beef, too.”

Yoo Joonghyuk did not respond. But he felt a bit strange. Why did people keep asking him what he ate?

“If you eat and drink enough, you're lucky.”

Yoo Joonghyuk didn't know if Kang Woohyun really felt lucky or if he was just making small talk. He didn't know since when, but he always found it difficult to understand people's inner feelings.

— Player Yoo Joonghyuk, how do you feel today?

The reporters at the venue always asked him the same questions.

How do you feel today, how do you evaluate your opponent, do you have a strategy, what score do you think you will win by, and what are your thoughts on the recent controversies?

Sometimes Yoo Joonghyuk would answer frankly, sometimes he wouldn't say a word. But no matter what he said, the articles always had headlines that had nothing to do with his actual opinions.

If so, why did they ask? Yoo Joonghyuk couldn't find the answer, but at least he understood one thing.

That was their job.

“Have you been reading the comments lately?”

As soon as he raised his head, he caught Kang Woohyun's worried eyes in the mirror.

“I told you not to read them. They're just jealous of you. That's why they write things like that. There's no need to read those words and get upset."

Maybe because he saw him staring at the phone, he thought it was like that. Actually, that wasn't a misunderstanding. In fact, there was a comment showing on his phone screen.

— I heard that Yoo Joonghyuk has a very rude personality in real life.

Yoo Joonghyuk stared at the comment. Contrary to Kang Woohyun's words, Yoo Joonghyuk did not feel particularly upset.

— Wasn't it Yoo Joonghyuk who made the atmosphere in the team so toxic? Everyone knows it.

If someone held a grudge against him, he just needed to be prepared to face that hatred. Then, everything would remain under his control.

— What do you guys know?

But…

— What do you guys know to say that? How do you know that Uncle Yoo Joonghyuk is that kind of person?

Usually, only the same few accounts commented regularly. But this was the first time he saw this username.

[Demon King's Daughter (siny****)]

Yoo Joonghyuk looked at the short comment for a long moment, as if analyzing an opponent he had encountered for the first time.

“Joonghyuk, we're here.”

From a distance, he could see the flashy exterior of the building where the team's practice facility was located.

Yoo Joonghyuk turned his eyes back to his phone. He tried to find the comment he had just read, but it was gone.

Had it been deleted? Or had he misread it?

“According to the schedule, you'll be busy until late tonight. Let me take care of Mia, okay?”

“Thanks anyway.”

“Is Mia still slurring her words? Do I need to take her to a doctor? My parents...”

Kang Woohyun, who had been chattering, seemed to suddenly realize he had crossed a line. He awkwardly closed his mouth and laughed.

"Let's go. Don't worry about Mia.”

“Thank you.”

“Ah, recently a few new managers arrived. If you meet them, say hello. One of them seems to be a big fan of yours."

Yoo Joonghyuk nodded slightly and looked at Kang Woohyun for a moment before getting out of the car.

"What's up? Do you need something?”

Yoo Joonghyuk thought for a moment whether to ask Kang Woohyun if he had eaten breakfast, but then he shook his head and headed to the practice room as usual.

[‘■■■’ has changed her username to ‘Daughter of the Demon King’.]

[‘The Demon King's daughter’ says there's a new feature here.]

[‘■■■’ has changed its username to ‘Flying Golden Poison’.]

[‘The Demon King's daughter’ says that it's a bit creepy.]

Yoo Joonghyuk went upstairs, crossed the hallway, and went straight to his personal practice room.

This room was designed specifically for Yoo Joonghyuk. It was about 16 to 20 square meters wide, equipped with a modern computer system and specialized gaming furniture. Various sports drinks and nutritional supplements were arranged neatly. At first glance, it looked like an ordinary gaming room.

Except that all four walls of this room were made of glass.

— Please be mindful of others.

This room was a kind of disciplinary measure from the supervisor, who rarely listened to Yoo Joonghyuk's input.

Anyone passing by could freely observe him in the practice room like a monkey in a zoo. And Yoo Joonghyuk could see them, too.

— Player Yoo Joonghyuk has excellent mechanics but lacks team coordination. He needs to be trained to accept the gaze of others.

— From the moment they go on air, professional gamers must receive the media's judgment. The room will help him get used to the pressure that awaits him every second.

That sounded like nonsense, but the sponsors accepted the supervisor's proposal. They even came to the facility to watch Yoo Joonghyuk practice alone from the other side of the glass.

But Yoo Joonghyuk didn't care. He was used to being the center of attention. Besides, he preferred not having to engage in unnecessary arguments with team members. Except for the supervisor and manager Kang Woohyun, the only person who talked to Yoo Joonghyuk in the gym was coach Park Jinsang.

“Joonghyuk, let's start.”

Park Jinsang tapped his glasses to signal, and Yoo Joonghyuk nodded. He relaxed his arms and shoulders with some simple stretches, took a deep breath, and put on his headphones. Game audio filled his ears, and the game logo appeared on the screen.

Yoo Joonghyuk's main genre was RTS (Real-Time Strategy).

A game where players control structures, predict enemy strategies in real time, gather resources, and build units to wage war. Its appeal lay in combining appropriate units to attack, or organizing surprise raids on the enemy's weak points at the perfect moment.

*Bang! Bang!*

Gunfire echoed in his ears. The screen shifted rapidly.

Yoo Joonghyuk was the commander on the battlefield. Every unit was under his control. In his mind, he calculated the cost of this battle, the next battle, and the one after.

Whatever needed to be sacrificed was sacrificed. He obtained the points necessary to win.

The units he created fell, crying out in pain. The monsters on the opposing side roared. The sound of the ground collapsing, structures exploding, and objects breaking to pieces filled the game.

Finally, when the smoke cleared, Yoo Joonghyuk looked up at the sky from among the ruins of the battlefield.

[VICTORY.]

Looking at the victory symbol, he felt no emotion. To him, the battlefield was just a routine that repeated every day. Not sad, not happy, not angry. There was only killing, death, destruction, and loss.

And victory.

Right after, his practice opponent changed. His condition was good. His arms didn't cramp. Seeing the opponent's strategy, Yoo Joonghyuk immediately took the initiative. He exploited every opening, ending the match quickly.

[VICTORY.]

After each match, he took a short break of less than five minutes and went straight to the next. He analyzed his mistakes and worked to improve them.

And then he won again.

Yoo Joonghyuk continued to play methodically. At that moment, a voice he had never heard before reached his ears.

“…But how can you watch him? How is it possible… in a room like that…”

He looked around and saw the door to the room was slightly ajar. On the other side of the door, two people were talking. One was coach Park Jinsang.

And the other... who was it?

*Bang! Bang!*

Yoo Joonghyuk quickly focused back on the match.

That was a mistake. The special forces unit fighting on the front lines was destroyed in a moment of inattention, and the battle situation immediately favored the enemy.

[?? =)))]

His opponent teased in the chat box.

The coach sounded a warning.

Yoo Joonghyuk tried to salvage the match, but the loss was too great. Even operating at maximum capacity, he was overloaded. Yoo Joonghyuk simulated the remaining local battles in his head, concluded there was no chance of winning, and surrendered.

[SURRENDER.]

Looking at the defeat screen, Yoo Joonghyuk sighed softly. When he took off his headphones, the noise from outside became louder.

“As a supervisor, can't I do as I please? Anyway, we can't leave people here like that.”

When he left his seat and went out, he saw Park Jinsang talking to a short-haired girl who was arguing with him.

“Ah, hello!”

When the girl turned her head, her brown hair swayed. He had never seen her before. Yoo Joonghyuk nodded slightly and looked at her name tag.

[New Manager: Y.S.]

It seemed she was the new employee Kang Woohyun had mentioned.

“Ah, yes… are you okay?”

Hearing her ask such a random question, Yoo Joonghyuk didn't know how to respond.

“Hey, I'm sorry, Joonghyuk. She just arrived, so she's still learning the ropes—.”

Park Jinsang quickly interjected.

Yoo Joonghyuk looked at the new girl's face. She looked like a teenager. Her eyes were clear and her skin pale.

Usually, when people met Yoo Joonghyuk's gaze, their reactions were the same—either staring in surprise or quickly looking away.

But this new employee did not turn away or waver. Instead, her face was calm, as if his presence was entirely normal.

“Oh, right. Are you hungry?"

The new employee handed Yoo Joonghyuk a small paper bag. Yoo Joonghyuk silently looked at it. She ignored his cold attitude and continued,

“It's dumplings. You like this, right?”

Dumplings?

Yoo Joonghyuk raised his eyebrows.

"I don't."

“What's the matter…”

The new employee pouted and offered again,

“Well, you should try it, it's delicious—”

“Hey, Joonghyuk eats almost nothing but lettuce and chicken breast. He only eats what he cooks himself. Joonghyuk, finish up and go eat. As for the new girl, stop talking nonsense, go over there and help the others!”

Park Jinsang nudged Yoo Joonghyuk. Yoo Joonghyuk glanced at the new employee's disappointed face and walked to the cafeteria.

Lunchtime was fifty minutes—far too short to absorb the calories needed for his body and brain to recover, and fit in some stretches.

When he got to the cafeteria, instead of lining up, he sat down with the lunch box he had packed in the morning.

Park Jinsang smiled, looked at Yoo Joonghyuk, and said,

“I'll go get some food first.”

While Park Jinsang went to line up, a few other players passed by Yoo Joonghyuk's table. They were the players who had just practiced with him. Some of them glared at him and whispered. It was a common occurrence, so Yoo Joonghyuk ignored them and continued eating.

There was a reason Yoo Joonghyuk insisted on bringing his own lunch.

In the final match of last season, Yoo Joonghyuk had suffered food poisoning after eating food prepared by the management team. The management claimed only Yoo Joonghyuk was poisoned and denied responsibility, but no matter how hard he thought, Yoo Joonghyuk couldn't recall eating anything else that day.

Since then, he always brought his own food.

“Enjoy your lunch.”

He raised his head and saw the new employee sitting across from him.

She was eating the dumpling she had offered him earlier. Yoo Joonghyuk replied gruffly,

“Eat to live, not live to enjoy food.”

“But if you eat delicious food, life is much better.”

The new employee took a large bite of the dumpling. Looking closely, the wrapper had a perfect elasticity and the filling was incredibly plump. To package dumplings like that, her skills were not ordinary.

“Did you make it yourself?”

“As expected... Want to split one?”

"No, I don't like them."

“Try a bite, maybe you'll like it.”

“You don't need to try to know.”

“But Uncle…”

Yoo Joonghyuk was silent for a moment before answering,

“Don't call me Uncle.”

“What do you want to be called?”

Yoo Joonghyuk had never been asked such a question. Anyone who wanted to address him had to think carefully about how to do so. The way they addressed him usually determined his attitude toward them. However, this new employee was letting him decide.

“Call me player Yoo Joonghyuk.”

“Player Yoo Joonghyuk……”

The new employee muttered, then suddenly pulled out a notebook and began jotting something down.

"What is it?"

“It's nothing.”

“What did you write?”

“It's just... I think a lot of people will want to hear this story. But if I forget it, I can't tell it again.”

The new employee scribbled in her notebook, her pen scratching rapidly. Looking at the barely-readable words filling the white page, Yoo Joonghyuk suddenly wondered about ways to remember the past.

If he kept a diary, would he remember his history?

Suddenly, his biceps cramped, and a buzzing sound filled his ears. He felt choked, as if water were pouring into his head.

Immediately after, he saw white walls surrounding him. High, solid walls he couldn't break or scale. The sound of writing echoed from the other side.

*Scratch. Scratch.*

Someone was writing on the wall. But he couldn't read a single word. They were like hidden comments—existing, yet forever unreadable to him.

“Player Yoo Joonghyuk?”

When he regained consciousness, the new employee was looking at him with concern.

“Are you okay?”

"I'm fine."

“Are you sure you're feeling alright?”

Yoo Joonghyuk glanced at her notebook, then at her worried face. To Yoo Joonghyuk, people's thoughts were as difficult to read as the words on the other side of that wall. But her expression was one he could understand.

She was worried about him.

Yoo Joonghyuk answered firmly,

“Don't worry about it.”

After speaking, Yoo Joonghyuk felt a twinge of regret. Her question had come from a good place. He shouldn't have answered so coldly.

But her face remained calm. It was as if she expected him to answer that way, or was simply used to it.

Someone patted Yoo Joonghyuk on the shoulder and sat down.

“Oh, are you talking to the new manager?”

It was Park Jinsang. His tray was half-empty; he had probably been talking to other players before moving here.

Park Jinsang looked at the new manager as if she were an oddity and joked,

“Being scolded by Joonghyuk on your first day? Should I fire him?”

The new manager ignored him, taking another bite of her dumpling. Seeing her attitude, Park Jinsang clicked his tongue.

“Kids these days are so bold. Hey Joonghyuk, the supervisor watched your morning practice and left some feedback."

Yoo Joonghyuk nodded, and Park Jinsang continued,

“He didn't have time to watch the whole thing, but his response is the same as usual. Perfect control. The build orders and compositions are textbook, absorbing past feedback well. But—”

Except for his cold personality, the supervisor had accurate eyes. Yoo Joonghyuk had to admit that. Seollal community stars trained by him always sent gifts.

“He says your gameplay is too predictable. Everything is strictly by the book, lacking variation. And above all...”

He had heard this criticism forever. Fast mechanics, precise counters, but sticking rigidly to the plan.

The conclusion was always the same.

“There's no soul in your play.”

No soul. Every time he heard that, Yoo Joonghyuk wondered how that could even be fixed.

Yoo Joonghyuk didn't believe in souls. He felt silly talking about things he couldn't see. To him, humans were simple: they ate when hungry, and slept when tired. Food created energy to move, think, and survive. That was all.

To him, the supervisor's comment was like an incomprehensible poem rather than advice.

“Playing without a soul? What does that mean?”

The new manager asked. Park Jinsang answered,

“It's just a figure of speech. It means we don't feel any passion or determination. If this guy doesn't see an immediate path to victory, he surrenders.”

Supervisors weren't the only ones who said that. Yoo Joonghyuk calculated wins and losses so quickly that fans called him an 'AI.'

But the new manager's expression was strange. Park Jinsang asked,

“Why are you smiling? Is something funny?”

"A little."

"What?"

“No, it's nothing.”

Park Jinsang glared at her for a moment before turning back to Yoo Joonghyuk.

“Anyway, don't take it to heart. What does he know about you? He just wants to break you, Joonghyuk. He's the one who put you in that glass room."

Coach Park Jinsang began cursing the supervisor. Why did they hire foreign supervisors in Korea anyway?

The backbiting continued until the food was gone. The new manager stood up and shook her head in frustration. When the other players left, the coach lowered his voice.

“Kids these days don't know what real fear is.”

Park Jinsang stared in the direction of the new manager, his eyes turning cold.

“If she knew what you and I went through, she'd probably faint.”

Looking at Park Jinsang's dark eyes, Yoo Joonghyuk realized they were getting to the point.

“Meet me in the monitoring room.”

[1] Oppa/oraboni: Honorific terms used by females to address older males. 'Oraboni' is a archaic, formal version of 'oppa,' rarely used in modern speech.

After the afternoon schedule ended, Yoo Joonghyuk went to the monitoring room. Park Jinsang leaned back in the supervisor's chair, putting his feet on the desk.

“You know what? This is my seat.”

But a sponsor had installed the foreign supervisor instead. It was frustrating for Park Jinsang, who had built the team from scratch.

“Can you believe what we've achieved in the last three years?”

Park Jinsang gestured to the trophies in the display cabinet. Looking at them, Yoo Joonghyuk recalled the past. It was the history of Team Ash.

At the end of that history was Yoo Joonghyuk's own name.

[Total Record: 64 Wins, 5 Losses, 1 Draw]

[MVP: OVERLORD Yoo Joonghyuk]

Two years ago, along with the championship, he had received that plaque.

That year, Yoo Joonghyuk had become a star in the esports world.

“Joonghyuk, don't talk about this out there. The kids might get sensitive.”

Park Jinsang sighed, lighting a cigarette. Acrid smoke filled the room, the ventilation fan on the ceiling whirring loudly.

“Do well.”

Park Jinsang exhaled, looking completely different from his lunchtime persona. The easy smile was gone, replaced by a cold, hardened face.

“Do you know how much we've struggled lately? Have you forgotten how far we've come?”

He grabbed Yoo Joonghyuk's shoulder. This was the true face of the man Yoo Joonghyuk remembered.

Coach Park Jinsang.

He hadn't started in esports. He was a 'broker'—someone who ran illegal gold-farming operations and private betting sites using cheap labor. In the underworld of dark gaming [1], everyone knew Park Jinsang.

“Do you want to go back to that? Back to eating instant noodles and playing for pennies in that damp semi-basement?”

As he thought of Park Jinsang's past, memories of his teenage years surfaced. Yoo Joonghyuk's life had been bound to this man since then.

“Who discovered you? It was me. I brought you here. If you keep playing like this, what happens to me?”

Park Jinsang was a bad man. But he was also the one who recognized Yoo Joonghyuk's talent and pulled him out of that drafty basement.

"I will try."

“Try? I know you work hard, Joonghyuk. But let's try in other ways, too. A friendlier face, a softer tone... is that so hard? Otherwise, we can't even sign sponsors.”

Park Jinsang stubbed out his cigarette.

“Anyway, that's that. I called you today for another reason. Tomorrow is the final match before the playoffs, right?”

Park Jinsang tapped his fingers on the table. Yoo Joonghyuk remembered that habit. The first day he met him at Director Kim's camp, Park Jinsang had tapped his fingers just like that before taking him away the next day.

And on his first day here, Park Jinsang had said:

— From now on, you must never lose a match.

But now, with the same expression, Park Jinsang said,

“Just lose one match.”

Lose.

“I'm not telling you to throw it obviously. Just... make it look like you tried your best, but fell short. Understand?”

Yoo Joonghyuk responded instinctively,

“I told you I won't do that.”

“And that's why I'm in trouble. Just one match, nothing more. Have you seen the lineup for tomorrow? I've already coordinated with the others.”

“I don't sign contracts to lose.”

“A contract? I'm asking you a favor...”

Yoo Joonghyuk glanced at the office door, studying Park Jinsang's face. The atmosphere was growing tense. Yoo Joonghyuk knew exactly why Team Ash's performance had tanked recently.

It wasn't just his form or the supervisor's tactics.

It was because of the man sitting in front of him.

Park Jinsang lit another cigarette, this one smelling different.

“Don't be foolish, Joonghyuk.”

Park Jinsang.

Coach of Team Ash.

A broker who manipulated match results behind the scenes.

He hadn't brought Yoo Joonghyuk here to win.

“Your share alone is 700 million won. Do you know how much money that is?”

He did. 700 million won was more than his salary for two years—and more than Park Jinsang had pocketed from him.

“Think about it. The RTS market is dying. Everyone is playing AOS games now. The leagues are closing down. We can't end up with nothing. You have to take care of Mia, don't you?”

If his share was 700 million, the total pool must be massive.

Perhaps Park Jinsang stood to make billions.

Yoo Joonghyuk stared at him, calculating.

What could 700 million won buy?

He could move out of the team house and rent a proper place in Seoul. He could send his sister to a better daycare, buy her clothes, and take her to the hospital.

And maybe... he could pay a detective agency to find their parents.

But still.

“I got food poisoning before the finals last season.”

His voice was ice-cold. Park Jinsang knew what that tone meant, nodding slightly.

“Was that your doing as well?”

The day before the finals, Park Jinsang had asked him to throw. Yoo Joonghyuk had refused, and the next day he had suffered severe abdominal pain. They lost the finals, and the team fell apart.

Park Jinsang took a slow drag of his cigarette.

“You should have just agreed.”

He sighed.

“Why can't you be practical? It was a hard match anyway. You always know when to give up.”

“I have never given up. I always do my best.”

Park Jinsang glared at Yoo Joonghyuk's worn jacket and the lunch box in his hand. He flicked his cigarette butt away and spat,

“Joonghyuk, if a dog eats human food, does it become human?”

Yoo Joonghyuk remembered the dark semi-basement camp.

He had boosted accounts for others to survive. Park Jinsang took the profits, and Yoo Joonghyuk took the scraps.

But he couldn't live like that anymore. He had Mia now. He wanted to earn a living cleanly, no matter how small.

But Park Jinsang didn't care.

“I'm telling you this for your own good. Why are you so stubborn? Do you look down on me?”

Park Jinsang stood up, his eyes wild. Yoo Joonghyuk stared back, cold and unwavering.

Like two beasts refusing to yield an inch of territory, they locked eyes. The silence stretched until Park Jinsang finally broke the tension with a forced laugh.

“Fine, fine.”

His expression smoothed back into 'Coach Park Jinsang.' Waving a hand, he said,

“Get out.”

Yoo Joonghyuk turned and left.

Behind him, Park Jinsang lit another cigarette, waiting a moment before pulling out his phone to make a call.

“Hey, you look really handsome.”

The taxi driver kept talking all the way home. It happened every time he rode in a cab.

“I used to also—”

Yoo Joonghyuk ignored the chatter, letting the driver ramble.

“You must get tired of people staring.”

Yoo Joonghyuk looked at his reflection in the window.

Perhaps his face was the only legacy his parents had left him. It had helped him survive.

He didn't understand how people could judge someone purely by their face, but he knew he should show polite gratitude when complimented.

"Thank you."

He paid the fare and got out. A light rain was falling from the gray sky.

He entered the passcode and stepped inside. The lights were off. Yoo Joonghyuk paused.

“Yoo Mia?”

There was no response. Beneath the dim hallway light, Yoo Joonghyuk gripped his umbrella like a weapon.

"Woohyun?"

Still silence. No one was home. Had this ever happened before? Instinctively, his mind raced with worst-case scenarios.

He stepped quietly into the dark living room. The only sound was the low hum of the refrigerator. No sign of life.

He flipped on the lights to dispel the darkness, scanning the small apartment.

“Answer me if you're there! Yoo Mia!”

Outside, the night streets were quiet. A few students were smoking in an alley, avoiding his gaze. A group of men sat drinking at a street stall. Anxious, Yoo Joonghyuk grabbed a drunk man and asked,

“Did... did you see...”

He wasn't used to speaking to strangers. He took a breath and described her:

“A small girl. About a hundred centimeters tall. Hair tied in pigtails, wearing blue. She looks like me.”

The drunk man mumbled and passed out on the table. Yoo Joonghyuk let go of him and asked the others nearby.

“A little girl? No, didn't see anyone.”

No one had seen her. Yoo Joonghyuk looked toward the overgrown park near the edge of the road. If she had gone that way, someone must have spotted her. Beyond the park lay a large, dark supermarket. Had she walked that far?

Could she even walk that far?

Yoo Joonghyuk started to run.

“Yoo Mia! Yoo Mia!”

How long had he been running? He stood before the closed gates of the supermarket. He had searched every convenience store, playground, and alley along the way. His mind felt fogged.

He had no experience with this.

He had read books, searched online, and bought everything necessary to raise his sister alone. He studied how to discipline and educate her.

Some books were useless, others offered advice he couldn't apply. Some talked about things he had never received from his own parents.

But none of them explained what to do when she went missing.

*Treat it like a game.*

Yoo Joonghyuk told himself.

*It's just a game. The objective is to find Yoo Mia. Think logically.*

But the more he tried to reason, the more his thoughts tangled.

In a game, if a match was lost, he could surrender. There was always another game.

But if he lost this...

His heart hammered against his ribs. He sprinted through the streets, shouting her name.

A cold numbness spread through his arms. His estimation of a successful outcome plummeted. It felt like playing a losing match against an invisible opponent.

A game he couldn't forfeit.

He realized he couldn't do this alone. He needed to call for help. He blamed himself for not calling the police immediately. But as he unlocked his phone, he remembered Kang Woohyun's warning:

— It's best if outsiders don't know.

— Why?

— If people find out you're raising her alone, it'll complicate things. You found her with just a note. If they demand a DNA test...

— She looks exactly like me. She's my sister.

— Even so, if she isn't, or if the legalities are messy... she could end up in an orphanage. I'll help you, so keep it quiet.

Yoo Joonghyuk called the police anyway. The line was busy. He tried again. On the third attempt, someone picked up.

He reported his sister missing, giving their names and ages.

— What are the parents' names? And the child's date of birth?

“Her date of birth is...”

He couldn't remember. He didn't know her actual birthday.

— What is your address?

“The address...”

His mind felt blank, as if his memories were being erased.

Yoo Joonghyuk looked back at the dark street. He walked this path with her every day to buy groceries. But now, it looked entirely foreign.

The police officer asked if they should dispatch a car, requesting more details about her disappearance.

But Yoo Joonghyuk felt a sudden wave of hopelessness.

She was gone.

A child who looked just like him, whose name, age, and origins were a mystery, left on his doorstep.

"I'll call back."

Yoo Joonghyuk hung up and turned back.

Maybe she was hiding in an alley he had missed. Maybe she had wandered back home.

“Yoo Mia!”

He didn't need the police. He needed people who knew him.

People who would help him search without demanding explanations.

Names flashed through his mind—Kang Woohyun, Park Jinsang, the players, even the new manager he had met that morning.

His breathing grew ragged.

He stumbled through the dark.

Was she here... or there?

The darkness began to blur his surroundings.

He felt himself slipping back into that damp basement camp. Hundreds of identical chairs. Director Kim telling him to sit 'anywhere.'

'Anywhere' was his seat.

“Yoo Mia!”

The smell of damp earth and alleyways.

He leaned against a brick wall, panting. It wasn't just physical exhaustion. His vision swam, and his limbs felt heavy, like he was a child again.

Was it stress? Lack of sleep? Or had Park Jinsang drugged his food?

No, he hadn't eaten anything from the coach. But then... the smoke.

The smoke in the monitoring room.

*Coughing.*

In a flash, he was back in that room. The smell of sweat and instant noodles. The rapid click of mice.

The basement camp.

He realized he had never left. He was still trapped in that room, playing for scraps.

Mia was gone.

He would never see her again.

Yoo Joonghyuk sank onto a chair, defeated. Suddenly, the chair beside him spun around, and a hand gripped his shoulder.

"Uncle."

He looked up to see a teenager with a tattoo on his arm. It was one of the kids who had been smoking in the alley.

“Hey, Uncle. We're talking to you. Are you deaf?”

“Uncle? He's actually pretty handsome.”

“I've seen him somewhere. Are you a celebrity?”

“Idiot, it's just the lighting.”

They surrounded him. The leader stepped forward, holding out a pack of cigarettes and a ten-thousand-won bill.

“Hey, Uncle. Run to the convenience store and buy us these. You can keep the change.”

Yoo Joonghyuk stared at the bill. When he didn't take it, the boy shoved his shoulder.

“Hey. Are you deaf?”

Yoo Joonghyuk let out a hollow laugh.

“You laughing?”

The boy raised a fist. But no sound came out.

[(Comment has been hidden due to report)]

The boy muttered something, but it was silent.

[(Comment has been hidden due to report)]

Yoo Joonghyuk didn't care anymore.

He closed his eyes. Nothing in this world could surprise him now. Even if the world ended tomorrow, it wouldn't matter.

At that moment, a soft *swoosh* cut through the air. A silver needle flashed, embedding itself in the boy's neck.

The boy gasped, collapsing to the ground.

Yoo Joonghyuk blinked.

[(Comment has been hidden due to report)]

The other teenagers screamed, backing away.

Another *swoosh*, and more needles found their targets.

[(Comment has been hidden due to report!)]

[(Comment has been hidden due to report!)]

The teenagers collapsed one by one. The smoke cleared.

The scenery shifted. When Yoo Joonghyuk opened his eyes, he was standing at the mouth of the alley. He coughed, looking up at two figures standing under the street light.

“It's done.”

“Oh my god, they're just unconscious. Do you know what unconscious means?”

A familiar voice.

Under the bright light stood two figures, one tall and one short.

The smaller one spoke,

“The light is red. Running is dangerous.”

“It's fine. Pedestrians have the right of way. Just hold my hand.”

The woman's voice was gentle, like falling snow.

Under the light, her hair shone pure white.

The woman, holding the child's hand, walked toward Yoo Joonghyuk. The child looked up, pointing at him.

"Obaboni."

Yoo Joonghyuk closed his eyes.

【Is it okay to interfere this much? If Uncle ■■ or Sister ■■ finds out...】

[1] Dark Gamer: A term referring to players who make a living by selling in-game currency and items for real cash.

Yoo Joonghyuk didn't believe in miracles. Everything was the result of effort and consequence.

But there was no other word for what happened that day.

Yoo Joonghyuk sat up, gasping for air. Beside him, Yoo Mia was sleeping soundly.

It was just a dream.

But the smell of smoke and the memory of the white-haired woman remained vivid.

He unlocked his phone.

[54 missed calls]

“Obaboni. What's wrong?"

The rustling woke Yoo Mia.

Yoo Joonghyuk looked around the messy apartment. The memories of yesterday returned.

He asked Yoo Mia what had happened.

Her explanation was simple:

“I woke up on a bench in a park, and a white-haired lady was taking care of me.”

"And?"

"Bi-sa."

“Visa?”

“We ate bi-sa! I was hungry!”

She meant pizza.

“I see.”

Yoo Joonghyuk recalled the woman who had used the silver needles.

Why had she helped them?

One thing was certain: she had brought Yoo Mia home safely and left.

She hadn't harmed his sister.

Yoo Joonghyuk sighed.

“Not everyone who buys you pizza is a good person. From now on, you must never—”

“She was nice. She looked like you.”

“Why did you go to the park?”

“I was just there when I woke up.”

“What is the last thing you remember before that?”

“The argument.”

Before waking up in the park, she remembered eating dinner prepared by Kang Woohyun and falling asleep on the sofa.

Yoo Joonghyuk checked his messages. Amid the angry texts from management, he saw a message from Kang Woohyun:

— Joonghyuk, I'm sorry.

He called back immediately, but there was no answer.

Was he apologizing for losing Mia?

Or for disappearing?

How had that woman found her?

Park Jinsang's words echoed in his head:

— Just lose one match.

Yoo Joonghyuk prepped a simple salad, his thoughts aligning.

Last night, Kang Woohyun took Yoo Mia.

Today was the final match before the playoffs.

Park Jinsang wanted him to throw.

“Yoo Mia. You're coming with me today.”

“Yay! I get to go with you!”

“Just for today.”

Usually, family wasn't allowed at the venue, but he would find a way. He recalled the face of the new manager from yesterday.

“My arm hurts.”

While Yoo Mia ate her breakfast, Yoo Joonghyuk checked the time. They were going to be late.

His phone rang.

— Where the hell are you?

It was another coach from the team. Yoo Joonghyuk didn't recall his name.

“At home.”

The coach yelled,

— Are you crazy? Why aren't you answering? Are you protesting your manager's resignation? Hurry up!

“Kang Woohyun resigned?”

— Didn't he tell you? Just get here. I've sent a replacement manager to pick you up. Hurry!

The coach hung up.

The doorbell rang immediately. The camera showed a familiar face waving at the screen.

“Ah, are you still eating? Sorry.”

The new manager stepped inside, eyeing his salad.

“Do you only eat vegetables? You should give the kid a bit more variety.”

"Bi-sa."

“Pizza? You want pizza?”

She patted Yoo Mia's head.

Yoo Joonghyuk frowned.

“We have to go.”

“The car is outside. Let's move.”

She gestured toward the door. Yoo Joonghyuk buckled Yoo Mia into the back seat, and the new manager started the engine. Her movements were slightly clumsy.

“Here we go.”

Yoo Joonghyuk checked the match schedule. They were currently on the first match. His was fifth. If they delayed, they would forfeit.

But Park Jinsang would likely draw out the matches to a 2–2 tie, setting up the final ace match. He had probably bribed the opponents to stall.

Yoo Joonghyuk looked at the new manager.

“What is your name?”

“My name? Check my coat pocket.”

She pointed to the jacket on the passenger seat. The name tag read:

[Y.S. Manager]

“That's an abbreviation.”

“Guess my name before we arrive.”

Y.S... Y.S.

Yoo Joonghyuk thought for a moment.

“Yoosung.”

She paused.

“Close.”

Yoo Joonghyuk frowned.

“You won't tell me?”

“No, I'd rather not.”

The car merged onto the main road, but traffic was crawling near the bridge.

“What a traffic jam. Swimming across would be faster.”

“Why don't you then?”

“Well, why don't we? Or we could ride a giant fish across the river.”

Yoo Joonghyuk stared at her. Was she normal? Was she working for Park Jinsang?

The coach's texts kept flashing.

— Where are you?

Yoo Joonghyuk looked at Yoo Mia sleeping on his lap, calculating the remaining time. They would be late, but they could make it before his match.

Suddenly, *screech!*

Several black sedans cut them off from both sides.

The new manager grimaced.

“Ugh... what a pain.”

The sedans blocked the road, trapping them.

It wasn't a coincidence.

“Did you make enemies again?” she asked.

Yoo Joonghyuk didn't answer.

“Someone definitely has a grudge.”

Men in suits emerged from the sedans, surrounding their car. They gestured for them to get out.

This was Park Jinsang's doing. The stakes of the bet must be massive.

Yoo Joonghyuk's expression hardened.

“Hold on tight.”

The new manager slammed the gas. The car surged forward, weaving through the gaps. She turned sharply into a side street, losing the pursuit.

“Should we go to the police? We might miss the match.”

Yoo Joonghyuk stared at her.

“Or... should we just keep going?”

He couldn't read her expression in the mirror. He still doubted her, but her words offered a choice.

“Want to go to the Han River? Eating pizza by the river is nice.”

"Bi-sa..." Yoo Mia mumbled in her sleep.

If she were working for Park Jinsang, she would have let them capture him.

“Did you hear something?”

“I've heard and seen many things. We should run. Anywhere is better than here.”

Yoo Joonghyuk looked at his sister.

She was right. The logical choice was to run, seek protection, and hide.

If he didn't show up, Park Jinsang's plan would succeed, but Yoo Joonghyuk would be safe.

“Go to the venue.”

"Why?"

Yoo Joonghyuk knew his limits. He wasn't cut out to be an actor or an artist. He couldn't sing, act, or charm sponsors.

But there was one thing he could do.

“Obaboni plays games. He's a good gamer.”

Yoo Mia whispered, holding up a pinky finger.

The manager remained silent.

Yoo Joonghyuk had no memories of his family or childhood. He had grown up alone, surviving by his own means.

He patted Yoo Mia's head.

“I have to play. At least for now.”

If he fled, he would destroy his career. With his reputation already tarnished, running away would finish him.

If he couldn't play, he couldn't support Mia.

And Park Jinsang would only corner him again later. He couldn't run forever.

He decided to trust the manager.

“Go to the venue.”

She smiled.

“That's how you protect the world.”

Protect the world. It sounded like something out of a fantasy.

“But, Uncle.”

“……?”

“One day, you won't be able to play games anymore.”

She continued,

“What will you do then?”

“I've never thought about it.”

“You should. What will you do after you retire?”

“Retirement is a long way off.”

“But the world could end tomorrow.”

Yoo Joonghyuk couldn't keep up with her line of thought.

“Monsters could appear in Seoul.”

“There will still be games to play.”

She stared at him, amused.

“Maybe, but... wouldn't there be other things to do? Duties, perhaps.”

Yoo Joonghyuk envisioned a ruined Seoul, filled with monsters.

Surprisingly, the image didn't bother him.

It felt familiar, like the darkness of the basement camp where he had fought to survive.

“I will survive, no matter what.”

“And then?”

Yoo Joonghyuk looked at his phone.

“Maybe... I'll search for the one who created this world.”

He didn't know why he said that.

“I see.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Go ahead.”

“Since when did you like dumplings?”

“...What?”

The sedans appeared in the mirror again. The manager accelerated, weaving through traffic with ease.

“What did you do before this?”

“I worked at a company.”

“Which one?”

“Just... a company.”

“Why did you leave?”

“Because the president kept dying.”

Yoo Joonghyuk couldn't tell if she was joking.

“When did you get your license?”

“I don't have one.”

"What?"

“I never had time to get one... but I'm used to steering things. Probably because I used to ride a dragon.”

A dragon?

Suddenly, *crash!*

The world spun. Shattering glass rained down as the impact slammed into them.

Yoo Joonghyuk shielded Yoo Mia.

When the spinning stopped, he checked his sister. She was safe. His right arm was bruised and sore.

He looked for the manager. The front of the car was crushed.

The match didn't matter now.

He had to get her to a hospital.

But the driver's seat was empty.

*Knock, knock.*

He looked out the window. The manager was standing outside, tapping the glass. He carried Yoo Mia out of the wreckage.

“Are you okay?”

“I'm fine. The venue is just ahead. Run! You can still make it!”

It was a massive crash, yet she was standing without a scratch.

“Player Yoo Joonghyuk.”

The men in suits approached.

“I'll handle them. Go do what you have to do.”

It was absurd. She was just a young girl against several men.

“Just come with us quietly—”

The lead man suddenly collapsed. The others froze.

The manager stood over him, lowering her leg from a high kick.

Yoo Joonghyuk stared in disbelief. Was he still dreaming?

“Run, Uncle!”

The manager yelled.

“Don't worry. Sookyoung-ssi is probably done handling the situation by now. And after today... you won't have to worry about them anymore. At least until the world ends.”

Yoo Joonghyuk didn't understand, but he knew two things:

The manager was far stronger than these men.

And he had to run.

The manager smiled at him, a look of quiet confidence that felt strangely familiar.

She knocked back another man, waving him away.

“Don't give up! You're the best at that!”

Yoo Joonghyuk carried Yoo Mia and ran.

Yoo Joonghyuk made it to the venue. Despite the coach's lecturing and the supervisor's glares, he sat down for the final match.

The score was 2–2.

It was the deciding ace match. His opponent was his main rival.

Perhaps because of his bruised arm, his play was off from the start.

His arm throbbed, and his focus wavered.

He thought of Yoo Mia in the waiting room. Park Jinsang was nowhere to be seen.

— Player Yoo Joonghyuk is struggling. The match is heavily in his opponent's favor. A GG seems imminent.

— Yoo Joonghyuk is known to GG quickly when behind.

But Yoo Joonghyuk didn't surrender. He fought for every point, exploiting his opponent's mistakes to win local skirmishes.

— What a match.

— This isn't Yoo Joonghyuk's usual style.

His opponent grew tense.

Yoo Joonghyuk fought with everything he had, controlling every unit.

He thought of the manager who had stayed behind to fight, and the white-haired woman who had saved his sister.

And he thought of the parents who might be watching him from somewhere.

Though the units fell and the defeat was decided, he fought until his last structure crumbled.

— The match is decided!

He took off his headphones, looking at the ruins on the screen.

The game was over, but as he stepped out, the crowd was cheering.

In the crowd, he thought he saw the blonde manager and the white-haired woman.

But when he reached the lobby, they were gone.

After the match, Yoo Joonghyuk asked the staff about the new manager.

— What are you talking about? Didn't you arrive in a taxi?

No one knew her.

— I'm not sure. We only hired one new manager this year. Anyway, great effort today. Even though we lost, the fans loved it.

Yoo Joonghyuk was silent.

They had lost, failing to make the playoffs.

But the team atmosphere had shifted.

— The playoffs don't matter now. The Association is in chaos. They might cancel today's results.

— What?

— Haven't you seen the news?

Park Jinsang had turned himself in to the police before the match started, covered in blood. He confessed to match-fixing, providing a list of every player and sponsor involved.

— The team is done, but you're clear, Joonghyuk. You weren't on his list.

Walking home, Yoo Joonghyuk felt a strange lightness.

"Obaboni, did you win?"

“Looking at the overall results, I didn't lose.”

“So you won?”

“In the end, yes.”

"I see."

He checked the articles on his phone.

— A legendary match despite the loss. Yoo Joonghyuk's play had soul.

Below the articles, the comments read:

— Best match of the season. The Supreme King's play has evolved.

— He wasn't on the broker's list. He really plays clean.

The hidden comments were gone.

He read the headlines:

— Association cancels all today's match results.

— Match-fixing list revealed...

“Obaboni. Hand.”

Yoo Joonghyuk put down his phone and held Yoo Mia's hand.

Night fell over Seoul.

A couple was eating hot fish cakes across the street. Yoo Joonghyuk held Mia's hand and crossed the road.

He looked up at the stars shining in the dark sky.

“What are we eating tonight, Obaboni?”

The human body is formed from what it absorbs.

Yoo Joonghyuk still believed that. There was lettuce in the fridge that would go to waste. But strangely, the manager's words echoed in his mind:

— But the world could end tomorrow.

It felt distant, like a star from another universe. But today had already been full of absurdities.

Yoo Joonghyuk looked at the sky and said,

“Pizza.”

I knew it. I thought I would see it again in the end.

You said it on the Island of the Reincarnated. Because you knew it would be like this.

What? Did you read it from the beginning this time? It may be a lie, but if it's true, I'll be a little happy.

If you're reading this, it probably means a book has been published.

This manuscript was not actually meant to be uploaded. According to our plan, one serialized manuscript is enough.

I don't know if you'll remember, but some of the content in this manuscript is another version, or a missing version, of our time. Maybe it's because the contents of the story "Kim Dokja's Company" that everyone has is a little different, but sometimes there were conflicts of opinion while writing the manuscript.

Well... it should be natural. Because memory is always like that.

Someone's memory is right, wrong, this is missing... As we talked like that, we were persuaded, and we voted on the memories we had different opinions on. But just because you decided on one through voting, you can't throw away the other story, can you?

In this book, some of the stories that received fewer votes among the group are also included.

Which of the serialized version or the book version is the true story? I don't even know anymore. We talked so much. Come now, what does it matter? Just because some memories are true, must the other memories be false? Whether this story is true or not, it must be the story you and I and the others shared, the story we lived and talked about.

So I just want you to read this story kindly.

You are the best reader I know.

I feel strange after writing this. I'm leaving the manuscript just in case, but in fact, my message will never reach you. In other words, this is a letter that will never reach you.

I don't know if you can even read it [from a full ■ viewpoint].

Regardless, if this ■gi is delivered to you, it's probably ■■■ ■ ■■ Serious ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■. ■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■... ■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■... ■■■■■■■■■■■■■... ■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■ Kim ■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■... ■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■重■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■ ■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■...

Help ■

[Side Story 3 - End]