The official launch day had finally arrived for Last Shadow, the new AI content by Kinder Games—the studio behind the global sensation Nexus Requiem. Even though it was 8 a.m. on a weekday in Korean time, there were so many people logging in that even the facial recognition loading screen lagged slightly.
[Registered player detected. Would you like to log in with this information?
Yes / No]
In short, it was asking if I wanted to enjoy the benefits of having participated in the beta server. I shook my head and declined, opting to create a new alt account instead.
If someone ended up looking into me and found out I was one of those benefit-grabbing beta testers, I’d probably get pointless pushback right from the start.
Race Selection: Human, Fox, Lizard.
‘Huh?’
Race selection for a character…? The options were oddly specific. Was “Fox” available because I was a fox? Then what was “Lizard” about? Maybe it was a newly added race for the official launch?
Human.
Name: Yeo Woo-rim.
Race: Human.
Outfit: Default Adventurer Garb…
After completing the character creation a short while later, I entered the server and boarded a train that hadn’t departed yet.
– Clack clack. Welcome aboard!
It was nice seeing the TicketGol again after such a long time, but he didn’t recognize me. Even though I had the same face, it must not have registered me as the same person because I was using an alt.
Everyone seemed to have taken character customization pretty seriously. After getting motion sickness meds from the TicketGol and sitting down, the rest of the players started pouring in.
– Nyang nyang!
– Nya nya nyang!!
Little Baby Foxes bounced in energetically and got locked inside specially-prepared cage seats.
‘Wait, what? I’m not the only one who can choose Fox? It’s actually a basic race now?’
Looking at the train car filled half with humans and half with foxes, that definitely seemed to be the case. Since I hadn’t seen a single lizard yet, maybe that race was something only I had access to. I didn’t choose it on purpose because it didn’t appeal to me visually, but maybe it was a quest reward tied to the legacy of Snake Rim.
Just then, a fox walked in with an air of absolute authority. It flicked its tail dismissively at the friendly skeletal hand trying to safely place it into a cage and claimed the seat next to me like it owned the place.
– Nyang.
With its nose held high, fur more neatly groomed than the other scruffy foxes, a slender build, and a proud, fierce gaze—there was no mistaking its identity.
“You’ve gotta be kidding… Kessler?”
The Baby Fox licked the back of my hand. Looking closely, there was a blue HP gauge floating above its head. That was something only visible to party members. I’d already been invited to Squad Mode by Bori Noona before entering the waiting room.
Soon after, another fox approached with an HP gauge above its head.
“…Don’t tell me, Bori Noona?”
– Nyang.
Then came Jung Da-hoon’s fox, showing off a heart shape with its puffy tail alongside Bori Noona. Trailing awkwardly behind them was a scraggly, foul-smelling, dirty-looking fox.
“You’ve gotta be—Kebab?”
As I called out each name, the foxes nodded vigorously. Kessler, the snobby fox who had already seated himself beside me and was casting a haughty gaze at the others, suddenly stood up. He pressed tightly against my thigh and began poking at my chest with his front paw like a doorbell.
“What the… Why are you all foxes?”
That’s when the TicketGol returned, clicking his teeth as he approached and gave me a polite nod.
– Are you the Foxes’ Guardian?
“Yes, that’s right.”
– Then please fasten their seatbelts. We appreciate your attention to their safety.
“Understood.”
I had no idea how I, once the original fox, had somehow ended up as a guardian now, but I began picking up each fox standing in the aisle one by one and buckling them into their seats.
– Nyang nyang!
– Nyang nyang nyang!
– Nyang?
– Nyang nyang…….
They kept barking back and forth at each other before turning their attention to me. Not that I could understand a word they were saying.
Ignoring their yipping, I opened up the menu to check for updates and noticed a skill called Fox Language. The moment I activated it, their chatter became intelligible.
“Kessler-nyang, you’re with Yeo Woo-rim-nim, right-nyang? He’s not even checking KakaoTalk-nyang… Please tell him to set his Fox Language already-nyang nyang.”
“I’m at work, can’t communicate right now-nyang.”
“Settings complete. I can understand you now.”
“Pro-nim-nyang!!”
“Woo-rim-ssi-nyang.”
“Woo-rim-nim nyang nyang!!”
“Baby fox nyang.”
“How did all four of you end up as foxes?”
“We lost the unspoken race-selection mind game-nyang,” replied Jung Da-hoon, his ears drooping as if genuinely distressed by the outcome.
It was true—we hadn’t made any agreements about what race each of us would play as. We had decided to respect each other’s choices. And because of that, I suddenly ended up as the foxes’ guardian.
“We look forward to your care-nyang.”
Kebab politely brought his front paws together and bowed his head. …First thing once we’re in the castle, that bastard’s getting a bath.
“I’m excited-nyang.”
“Right? Right?! Bori-nyang, tail kiss!!”
As the two twirled together, sparkly heart effects burst around them in a dazzling display. Apparently envious, our Kessler fox, who had been quietly watching, reached his front paw toward me.
Reflexively, I grasped the plump little paw extended toward me, but Kessler shook his head and articulated clearly what he wanted.
“Let’s make a heart too, like those fox punks-nyang.”
So I placed my fingers to match his paw and made a hand-heart. He smiled with his eyes in satisfaction.
“Hehe-nyang.”
The train finally departed with all the players on board. After a brief ride, we arrived at the Shadow Castle.
Welcome, baby foxes and players.
Skeletons with flowers tucked behind their ears stepped out onto the platform to greet us. In response, hundreds of foxes began dancing in synchronized, chaotic unison, barking in a wild chorus.
“Pro-nim-nyang! So this dancing is automatic-nyang!”
“Told you so.”
“Amazing-nyang. I always thought Woo-rim-nim was just super cutesy by nature-nyang.”
Yeah… I hadn’t danced on purpose. The system had forcefully triggered it based on fox behavior. It took a whole year, but I was finally vindicated. All those times people thought I was being lovey-dovey? Now the truth was finally out.
Even Kessler, though unwilling, was forced to wiggle his tail to the beat, but his bashful gaze remained locked on me—a shy little fox sneaking glances my way.
“Come here, Nyang-nyang.”
When the dance ended, I scooped up Kessler and cradled him in my arms like royalty. I kissed him on the snout. When he licked my lips in return, I retaliated by fully engulfing his muzzle with my mouth—a taste of his own medicine for the thing he did to me every day.
Apparently pleased, he began wagging his tail like crazy.
“So cute.”
– This way please. Guidance provided by GuideGol.
As we followed the skeleton’s lead, I glanced back to see a small group of players still hanging back, stubbornly refusing to budge.
“You go first.”
“No, you go first. Please.”
“Why aren’t any of you moving? You crazy bastards—since when were you all so considerate?”
“At this rate, we’ll all starve to death standing here… Should we just… play rock-paper-scissors?”
“I’m just gonna go. I don’t care enough to fight over a job that bad.”
About fifteen players were desperately trying to be the last one to enter.
Cradled in my arms, Kessler scoffed quietly as he watched them.
“Total waste of effort-nyang.”
“Isn’t ‘the last to arrive in the hall’ immediately chosen as the icon of selflessness and compassion and granted the priest class?”
“There are many methods-nyang. It changes every time. It’s never the same-nyang.”
“Really? Well, the system’s definitely smart.”
I recalled the system that was said to be equipped with advanced AI. It had even tried to strike a deal with me to take away troublemaker Kessler, who was known for causing incidents.
We entered the great hall. It was packed with users all trying to earn a special class by performing a “first action” that would catch the system’s attention.
Someone was attempting the “first theft.” Another was already on a table, dancing their heart out.
Everyone was desperate to land a class early with some bold or unique move—strategies that had quietly circulated among alpha and beta testers as hidden tips.
“Huh? Wait, I came in last. Why didn’t I become a priest?”
“It doesn’t happen instantly. Check your inventory. There’s usually a class-specific item or something—maybe a special potion. Take a look.”
The guy, who had come in last by winning rock-paper-scissors and expected to be made a priest, rummaged through his bag—only to find nothing.
“What the hell? That bastard Ttubi lied about the whole thing… Even had screenshots as proof. I totally bought it.”
“What? I have it, though.”
This time, the priest class was awarded to a completely unexpected player. Among the fifteen who had been fighting to come in last, there was one woman who quietly walked into the hall first, saying she didn’t want to debase herself with such a desperate scramble.
She was the one chosen as the priest.
Still in my arms, Kessler whispered calmly.
“It’s not about a ‘specific action’—it’s about fulfilling a specific keyword-nyang. That girl left because she ‘sacrificed’ herself for others. That’s why she was chosen as the priest-nyang.”
“That makes sense-nyang!!”
The rest of the party nodded, amazed at the insight.
“Oh! Fox folks!! There’s a pie over here that lets you switch races to human. Looks like you just eat it.”
At someone’s shout, a horde of foxes swarmed the direction of the pie.
No doubt, many players had initially thought that being a fox meant cuteness, bonding with skeletons, and enjoying a happy-go-lucky fox life.
But the truth was, being a fox meant automatically triggered dance sequences, a severely restricted field of vision, the very real risk of getting trampled to death by other players, excessive sleeping needs, and most importantly, a limited set of available classes. After experiencing all that, players who had become foxes likely reconsidered and decided they needed to be human to properly play the game.
“Fox playtime is over-nyang.”
Kessler, licking a spoonful of pudding, began wriggling as if asking to be set down. Once out of my arms, he strutted regally into the crowd of foxes eating pie and began daintily nibbling on a baby pumpkin pie.
A short while later, Kessler had become human.
