"Life's such a damn scam…" Kim Shin muttered, trudging down the cracked sidewalk, shoulders sagging under the weight of another wasted day. His shirt was still tucked in, his tie half-loosened, and his shoes looked like they'd walked straight out of a war zone.
"I study my ass off for twenty years, graduate from top schools, get a half-decent job in Seoul, and what do I get in return? A jealous, pumpkin-faced team leader breathing down my neck because I'm too handsome?"
He sighed deeply. "It's not my fault this face was carved by the gods."
A car horn blared in the distance.
It was already night. The office lights had gone dark hours ago, but as usual, Shin had been forced to do extra work. Tasks that weren't even in his job description. The real kicker? No overtime pay. Just good old-fashioned exploitation.
As he crossed the street, the pedestrian light flickered red. He was halfway across the zebra crossing when—
VRRRRROOOOM!
A truck came barreling toward him.
Shin's instincts kicked in. In one swift leap, he rolled off the crosswalk like a budget action hero.
"HOLY—!" he gasped, landing on his side. "That damn truck almost made me the next isekai protagonist!"
He stood up, brushing dirt off his pants.
"Not today, Truck-kun. I'm not dying until the universe gives me a girlfriend!"
With his pride semi-intact, he staggered toward the convenience store, still muttering under his breath.
Inside, the fluorescent lights hummed softly as he browsed the aisles.
"Beer… instant noodles… chips. The holy trinity of the broke man's diet."
At the counter, the bored cashier scanned his items.
"That'll be 5,000 won. With the discount… 4,500."
"Card," Shin said, tapping it on the reader with the confidence of someone who just checked his balance that morning and barely survived.
Beep.
Transaction approved. The cashier handed him the receipt with a dead-eyed stare.
"Even groceries are trying to rob me now," Shin grumbled. "At this rate, I'll be eating ramen out of my own tears next week."
He trudged back to his apartment—a matchbox-sized rental buried in an old Seoul backstreet. It wasn't much, but it was home. Clean, simple, and most importantly, quiet.
He dropped the groceries on the table, took a quick shower, and flopped down in front of his PC setup like a man returning to the only thing that made life worth living.
"Alright… now for the good part."
The screen lit up.
[World of Lost Cultivators] — his one true love, his escape, his digital dojo.
A cultivation-themed MMORPG that had devoured five years of his life. This was his 30th playthrough. Thirty characters. Thirty endings. Countless rage-quits and revivals.
But tonight… it was different.
"Yes… yes… YEEEESSSSSS!!" Shin screamed, fist-pumping the air like a madman. "I did it! I beat the Demon Sovereign solo! I—Kim Shin, broke bastard of Seoul—am the first player to 100% clear this damn game!"
His screen shimmered.
A soft ding echoed in his headphones.
A pop-up window appeared.
Congratulations, Player: Kim Shin.
You have achieved the TRUE ENDING of World of Lost Cultivators.
No one else has done so in the 5-year history of this game.
You have earned the right to claim the hidden reward.
Would you like to receive it?
[YES] [NO]
Kim Shin blinked.
"...Huh? Hidden reward?"
He clicked [YES] without hesitation.
And the world—literally—changed.
The screen went white. His room vanished. The beer can in his hand dropped in slow motion. And then...
WHOOSH.
Gone.
End of Chapter 1