Chapter 1

"Don't get the wrong idea, Mikhail. I didn't help you for your sake."

In a back alley where even sunlight couldn't reach, Hansol looked up at the person shooting him a cold stare.

A boy with gray eyes and bandaged fists.

The moment Hansol felt a sense of déjà vu, the boy turned his head sharply and walked out of the alley.

Fading footsteps.

Silence settled over the alley.

"..."

Hansol finally gathered his scattered thoughts.

His last memory had started with a flash before his eyes.

[Whack—!]

His cheek burned hot in the confusion. He collapsed helplessly and rolled on the ground as kicks flew his way...

That's when it happened.

A boy with a familiar face stepped in front of him.

'So why exactly.'

...No, pointless questions could wait.

Hansol let out a breath and staggered to his feet. Dragging his feet forward, he stood blankly in front of a dusty window and stared at his reflection.

"Mikhail?"

The name that suddenly came to mind slipped from his lips.

A heavy shock struck his mind. A hollow laugh escaped him. The reality he'd grasped was absolutely insane. Because...

'Why do I have a game character's face?'

That's why.

"..."

In the silence filled with confusion, the sequence of events flooded his mind.

---

"—Yeah, since you quit anyway, take care of yourself. Personally, I thought taking a long sick leave would've been better..."

Seoul, South Korea. The sidewalk as the sun set.

Hansol smiled faintly as he listened to the voice through his phone.

"Sorry, Team Leader. If I took sick leave, I'd probably be too restless to rest properly... I should've managed my health better beforehand, but I guess lazy people like me never learn."

"Dude, this isn't the time for jokes. I've never heard of someone in their twenties collapsing every few days. Something's..."

The team leader's tone grew heavy. Hansol cut in with a deliberately cheerful voice.

"Exactly. I'm really lucky, right?"

"...Huh?"

"Like you said, I'm still in my twenties. Young enough to chew rocks. So what could be that serious? I'll get better soon."

As Hansol casually joked around, a soft laugh came through the phone.

"You're impossible. Anyway, take responsibility for your words and get better fast. I'll keep your position open somehow."

"Yeah, I should. I'll contact you again soon."

The call didn't last long.

Hansol slipped his phone into his pocket and quickened his pace. The wind brushing his cheek felt particularly cold.

'...Let's go home.'

After transferring buses twice and walking up a side street, Hansol stepped into his tiny studio apartment.

Click.

The fluorescent light flickered on, illuminating the room. Moving forward, Hansol held his expired employee ID and stared blankly at his desk.

It was filled with encouraging messages from players and awards received from the game's scenario division.

Hansol's gaze soon dropped.

'So it's really... over.'

The open-world RPG, Tales Chronicle.

Nearly five years working on that game's scenario team.

Thanks to the project's success, they had a decent team now, but when he first joined, conditions were pretty rough.

One person had to do the work of two or three.

He'd worked on everything himself—setting the direction, detailed worldbuilding, character establishment, even environmental concepts.

'I got it all done. It was really hard though.'

Hansol turned his head toward the wall. The tall bookshelf was packed with miscellaneous books and notebooks.

History and environment, society and religion, magic and technology, symbolism.

Information that formed the foundation and principles of the world he'd created.

'And.'

Hansol reached for a notebook tucked in one corner. It contained game walkthroughs and play tips.

As he organized the content bit by bit, the amount grew until it proudly occupied a corner of the bookshelf.

What started as part of his job eventually became proof of practical know-how that rivaled veteran players.

There was a reason for that. His skills as a player were lacking, after all. He'd worked pretty hard to bridge that gap...

Thud.

That's when it happened. A character sheet caught on his moving fingertip and fell.

It was from his most recent work, covered with hastily scribbled notes.

"This is..."

Hansol picked up the sheet and stared quietly at the portrait drawn on the front.

Eighteen years old. A boy with deep blue eyes stared forward expressionlessly.

"..."

Hansol smiled bitterly and set the sheet down.

The boy on the sheet was his first character concept and a bit of a sore spot.

'I wanted to feature him at least once more.'

Mikhail Senit.

A young master from a great mage family who briefly appeared early in the game before disappearing.

He ran wild both inside and outside the academy, stirring up the protagonist Ethan's trauma and blocking his path—a troublemaker.

Every supporting and main character thoroughly disliked him.

'But even that was only briefly handled through someone's recollection or dialogue. ...This feels unnecessarily regretful too.'

There was a reason.

When the main storyline began, Mikhail received a magic incompetence verdict and was expelled.

Soon after, his existence was erased with a mention that he went missing after a monster attack on his way back north.

'The character data kept conflicting with the program, so we hastily adjusted the setting...'

During the hectic development period, they couldn't waste precious time trying to feature one supporting character.

In the end, removing the problematic character solved the issue.

As a developer, he'd accepted it, but as the creator, it was a bitter conclusion.

Ding.

That's when it happened. At the sudden notification sound, Hansol pulled out his phone. A text message had arrived.

[Team Leader: Everyone put gifts in your bag, so check them. I'll contact you when a position opens up.]

'Gifts?'

Hansol set down his phone and looked through his bag. Now that he thought about it, they had loaded him up with stuff...

Rustle.

Hansol soon pulled out a shopping bag. Various items were inside.

His favorite snacks and a new e-reader tablet. And...

Flutter.

There was a coupon for Tales Chronicle.

One marked with issue number 0.

'Is this a gift too?'

Hansol stared at the coupon and turned on his computer.

Issue number 0. He was curious about what it contained.

Click. Click.

Hansol moved the mouse busily.

After clicking the icon to launch the game and entering the serial number on the coupon registration page, a popup appeared.

[Authentication successful. Check your mailbox for your gift.]

Click.

He opened the mailbox.

Then—

Flash!

Character Trait Activation

: Hidden grade [■■ ■■■ ■■] function activated.

Hansol, who'd flinched at the sudden flash of light, blinked with a bewildered expression.

'What, what? Hidden grade?'

The highest grade designation in the game.

Had they ever given something like this as a resignation gift...

—No, but more than that.

'This looks like an error?'

The text was garbled and displaying incorrectly. A phenomenon that typically occurred with data mismatches. Had some test data gotten mixed into the last patch...

Ding!

But the strange occurrences didn't stop at one.

: Trait fully unlocked successfully.

: Character synchronization complete. System functions activated.

: Main storyline progress reset.

"What is this?"

Incomprehensible messages appeared one after another and filled the screen.

The situation made no sense. Staring blankly at the monitor, Hansol picked up his phone.

Whatever was happening, since this was an error occurring on the main server, he should report it.

Ring ring—

After two rings, the call connected. Hansol spoke to the person on the other end.

"Team Leader, it's Hansol. There's something I think you should check."

No response came from the other end.

Only an unsettling silence continued.

"..."

What's this? Was he in an elevator or something?

Hansol tilted his head and was about to speak again when—

His tongue stuck like it had been coated with wax, and severe dizziness set in.

"Guh, ah..."

His vision spun and his cheek hit the floor. His arms and legs went limp. Even breathing was difficult, as if his lungs had hardened.

Roll...

Beep— Beeeep—

All he could hear was the dial tone.

Hansol struggled to lift his heavy eyelids and reached for the phone that had fallen on the floor.

Or at least, he thought he reached.

"..."

His vision suddenly went dark. His consciousness faded to black.

---

'And then I opened my eyes here.'

Hansol... no, Mikhail withdrew his gaze from the window and dropped his head. His mind was in chaos.

Don't get the wrong idea. The face of the boy who'd spoken in that cold tone and the name Mikhail he'd been called.

Along with those, previous memories began clicking into place.

"Haha... Ha."

Along with a hollow laugh that escaped involuntarily, a strong conviction struck his mind.

The boy who'd just disappeared before his eyes.

He was the protagonist of Tales Chronicle, the game he'd created.

Ethan Welton.

"..."

Mikhail raised his hand and covered his face. His head throbbed. There was only one plausible hypothesis to explain the situation before him.

'Did I... enter the game?'

After breathing in and out several times, Mikhail raised his head and stared blankly at his reflection in the window.

'What a predicament.'

Like a dog at a funeral. That expression fit perfectly.

His uniform robe and the pendant engraved with his family crest were covered in dirt and looked shabby.

His dark blue hair was disheveled, and tattered bandages wrapped around his left hand, which was oozing blood.

"Ha..."

The moment Mikhail let out a hollow laugh, his solar plexus throbbed intensely and the previous scene became clear.

The face of the boy who'd thrown punches at the center of the group. And the sneering of the thugs who'd followed up with kicks.

[Magic incompetence? This worthless bastard fooled us all this time! You knew and just acted oblivious, didn't you?]

[Of course! He tricked us good! What's the point of being the northern legitimate son? He can't even inherit the title—just a hollow shell! When I think about how we groveled all this time... Ptui! Let's go, young master.]

Judging from what was said, this seemed to be right when he'd been labeled incompetent and was facing imminent expulsion.

'Of all times, I dropped in when things are at their worst.'

The situation was completely unwelcome.

As Mikhail furrowed his brow and was about to sigh, cold wind touched his nose.

"...?"

Mikhail shifted his gaze to the distant sky. Pale violet wave clouds were slowly approaching.

"That's..."

Mikhail furrowed his brow and clicked his tongue.

The violet wave clouds moving leisurely across the sky.

They were the harbinger of a downpour, meaning at this rate he'd end up looking like a drowned rat on top of everything else.

"..."

Mikhail lowered his eyes and rummaged through his inner pocket.

'The student handbook should have dorm information. I'll go there. I can quietly sort out my thoughts...'

The cover of the student handbook in his hand flipped open.

Flutter.

【Personal Information】

Name: Mikhail Senit

Qualification: Magic Department Year 2 (On Hold)

Dormitory: Building 108, Room 307

※ Academic records and detailed abilities on the next page.

'A magic incompetent, and student status on hold.'

Mikhail bit his lip with an unpleasant expression.

He'd seen this game setting countless times, but now that it was his reality, it twisted his gut.

'I can't just die helplessly like this.'

Rustle.

Mikhail tucked the student handbook back inside his clothes and turned his head toward the alley's exit.

Buildings arranged in familiar layouts and structures.

So returning to the dorm shouldn't be difficult.

After all, he knew the setting of Tales Chronicle inside and out.

"..."

He swallowed a groan. Mikhail steadied his swaying body and walked toward the alley's exit.