Click, click.
“Yes, perfect posture.”
Click. Click.
“Absolutely stunning.”
Click.
“This time, let’s try a coy look. A sassy little fox. Look over here, yes, just like that. Coy and cute.”
Click click.
“Now let’s try you with a lion’s mane. Just pretend you’re a proud lion. Yes, step up on the rock, stand tall, and roar. That’s it, perfect, superstar.”
Meow meow!
I let out a bark to cheer him on. Jung Da-hoon had basically become a professional photographer.
After wrapping up the sponsored shoot in the fox-exclusive pool—with a neck float on, doing doggy paddle—the photo session was complete.
Considering the baby fox’s fatigue levels, the shoot time had been drastically reduced. What used to take from noon to night was now done in just a few hours with multiple concepts completed.
“Da-hoon, you could seriously open your own studio.”
“It’s all thanks to my amazing model.”
With that back-and-forth, we got started on the next task.
The next job.
In the busiest square, we set up a large event table and hired five defense type NPCs to sit behind it.
Flap flap.
When the massive rolled-up banner was unfurled, players who’d been gleefully running around with clubs playing ‘Yeo Woo-rim tag’ began to take notice.
‘A simple contract gets you a baby fox Polaroid! First come, first served!’
“Peeking around?”
“Hello? What’s this contract about?”
“If you sign a pledge saying you’ll immediately self-destruct if you vote for either Yeo Woo-rim or Jung Da-hoon in the final round, you’ll receive one. You can pick your favorite Polaroid on a first-come, first-served basis.”
The division of labor was smooth.
Players would register with Jung Da-hoon, sign the contract with one of the five defense NPCs, and only then were they allowed to choose a photo from the spread of Polaroids that had been laid out by me.
“Pick one, pick one.”
“Can’t I choose two?”
“Sorry, but no…”
“I’ll go with this one!”
Surprisingly, the B-cuts were far more popular than the A-cuts. All 335 photos were gone within five hours.
Under the table, Jung Da-hoon and he exchanged a subtle high-five.
“Great work, superstar. Go ahead and rest now.”
“Yeah, you too, Jung Da-hoon.”
Once the work wrapped up, exhaustion hit like a wave.
“Why am I so sleepy…”
Like a bird returning to its nest, I headed up to Kessler’s room and, at some point, passed out completely.
***
Returning late from the Desert Summit, Kessler paused mid-motion while removing his cloak. He had spotted Yeo Woo-rim, asleep in front of the baby fox’s bed.
He must’ve thought he was still in baby fox form and tried to crawl into the fox den—only to fail because his body was too big.
“Hey, baby fox.”
Moonlight shimmered gently over his curled-up body.
“Little baby fox.”
He was so deeply asleep there was no response.
Worried he might step on one of Yeo Woo-rim’s nine tails, Kessler carefully crouched down, watching his step. Then, he began to quietly observe the sleeping face before him.
The moonlight shone down through the window, making Yeo Woo-rim appear pale.
“…….”
He couldn’t even hear him breathing. Alarmed, Kessler brought his ear close to Woo-rim’s face—and finally heard the faint sound of breath.
Relief washed over him like he’d finally returned home.
Kessler laid down on the floor beside him. Using his tail as a pillow, he stared at the back of Woo-rim’s head for a long while before closing his eyes.
It felt like he would sleep well tonight.
***
Sniff sniff.
I woke up to a pleasant smell. As I rubbed my eyes and sat up, what greeted me was the culinary hotspot of the neighborhood—Yorigol.
-Tap tap! Morning good!
“Good morning…”
The smell turned out to be bone broth soup simmering away. Famous for his divine cooking skills, Yorigol was casually stirring the boiling pot—with his fingers.
“Cooking on the spot, huh?”
He nodded.
The milky-white bone broth was finished. This Yorigol was known to grind up only the finest cow bones and slip them onto his fingers every time the bones disintegrated.
“Thanks for the meal.”
Green onions finely chopped into the broth, rolled omelette, savory soy-glazed beans, kimchi, and steaming white rice made for a mouthwatering, picture-perfect home-style meal.
“Where’s the Lord?”
–Kessler must attend court.
“Why?”
–Big trouble, interference, trouble trouble—
He was probably referring to the incident at the chapel. Since Kessler had barged into a user-led quest, caused a ruckus, and made threats, it was only natural he’d face consequences.
“Well, since it all blew up after the voting results, the punishment probably won’t be too harsh.”
–Clack clack.
“Thank you for the food.”
I opened the Relationship Panel and used it to track Kessler’s location.
“Huh?”
He was in the plaza. Right in the exact spot where I’d been yesterday collecting contracts. Was he tracing what I did yesterday?
Rubbing my full belly, I crossed the street—and saw a long line.
Even more surprising, the broke player who was a total ragpicker just yesterday was now skating around the plaza on some ultra-stylish rollerblades, and the beggar player who used to crawl around picking up coins while doing three steps one bow was now dressed in a dream-come-true Taekwondo uniform.
“Oh? Yeo Woo-rim~!”
“Thank you, Yeo Woo-rim~!”
I stopped one of the cheerful fake Yeo Woo-rims and asked,
“What’s all this chaos?”
“Oh, the Lord’s been buying up the fox photo cards you sold yesterday—for a hundred thousand won each.”
“……”
As I walked closer, I saw Kessler sitting alone at the head of the table, examining each photo with a serious expression. Right below him sat the same five skeletons I had hired yesterday, scribbling away at something.
“…What are those contracts?”
“Oh, they’re petitions. You know how Kessler made a total mess at the chapel? Looks like he’s trying to gather user petitions to help reduce his sentence.”
So basically, he was simultaneously creating justification for leniency while buying up the fox photos I sold off yesterday—running a perfect double-duty business.
Kessler, hunched over the table looking at photos, suddenly raised his head.
Our eyes met. He looked pleased. That big, pale guy was grinning at me like a dopey kid.
***
Jung Da-hoon was browsing the forums. Things had been chaotic since yesterday.
– – –
Title: Situation Summary So Far (64)
- Mass discovery of buried corpses—assassin’s doing
1-2. Find the assassin - No idea who the assassin is, so let’s go with collective intelligence vote
2-1. Pick like three people instead of one and kill them all—one’s gotta be it
2-2. Chosen: the dirtiest guy, the richest rumored guy, and some guy named Jung just because
2-3. They all posted mad clarifications
2-4. ???: “Is it my turn to get flamed? As long as it’s not me, LOL” - The three are going insane from injustice
- Turns out Jung Da-hoon is the owner of the RealFox account
4-1. Settled it with a fox photo card deal - Suddenly the Lord starts mass purchasing
What even is this?
ㄴOkay but why is it 1 then 1-2, not 1-1
ㄴWait Jung Da-hoon lied about his job?? Said he was a potter but he’s actually a photographer?
ㄴNo, he aspired to be a potter, it’s technically accurate
– – –
Title: Wait, is the MAG Yeo Woo-rim really that pro gamer Yeo Woo-rim? (47)
TL;DR
ㄴNope
ㄴJust a fan—Jung Da-hoon even has a Yeo Woo-rim badge
ㄴOnce news got out that Yeo Woo-rim was part of the alpha test, a lot of fans joined
– – –
Title: Why the Yeo Woo-rim fashion trend is actually great (59)
The fake fashionistas who used to hang around the plaza acting like gangsters are gone
Now everyone just wears a t-shirt and swings a club—super chill
ㄴYeo Woo-rim’s look is so annoying
ㄴStill, I wanna beat the crap outta that half-fox half-human mess
ㄴDidn’t know much about the pro gamer Yeo Woo-rim, but after seeing his outfits all the time, kinda started liking him LOL
– – –
Title: Don’t get plastic surgery at the mall (43)
(Photo)
This is what happens
ㄴLOLOLOLOL
ㄴLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOL
ㄴUgh same, I’ve had three revisions and I’m dying
ㄴㄴOP: Surgeon was such a quack, was super hyped about being booked solid then straight-up dozed off mid-op, LOL
ㄴKinda charming though
ㄴㄴOP: Pissed off
ㄴYou’re my type. Date me please
ㄴㄴOP: Nope LOL
– – –
Jung Da-hoon found it strange and amusing—yet also a little sad—that he was now a hot topic in the community alongside Yeo Woo-rim.
“The superstar probably can’t see any of this, huh?”
How could he free him? How frustrating must it be? That question always weighed on Jung Da-hoon’s heart.
After a moment of thought, he cautiously posted a new thread.
– – –
Title: Any alpha test players… know someone who’s gone missing? DM me please.. (0)
Title: What would you do with 1 million won? (12)
Title: The fact they’re asking for petitions is still hilarious the more I think about it (21)
Title: The Lord is stupid hot, I wanna date him so bad wahhh (9)
– – –
Because of the buzz over Kessler’s fox photo card buying spree, Jung Da-hoon’s question post seemed doomed to sink into oblivion.
And then—
New comment posted.
He immediately clicked the notification.
– – –
Title: Any alpha test players… know someone who’s gone missing? DM me please.. (1)
.
ㄴMy friend is trapped inside the game.
– – –
