<<Moving to ‘Outskirts of Adventurer’s Village’.>>
The moment I logged in, the bright light made me squint. A sunlit plain stretched out before me, along with a small village road. A floating guide message told me to keep walking straight ahead, so I strolled forward leisurely, like I was wandering down a country path.
“You bastards!”
“…?”
Suddenly, a thunderous shout rang out from somewhere.
When I turned toward the scream, I saw several players decked out in flashy gear beating up one person. Fortunately, pain didn’t seem to transfer, because even as his limbs were being severed, the guy kept cursing with his mouth.
Holy….
I froze in shock, mouth hanging open at the sight.
W-what the hell? I thought it was an actual murder.
It was bizarre. Since it was a game, there were only small bursts of blood effects rather than grotesque depictions, which was at least a relief.
When the user died, the scattered limbs around him gradually disappeared. Once no trace remained, the atmosphere returned to normal as if nothing had happened. All that was left in the spot where he vanished was a shabby rag of clothing.
“He’s a newbie. Didn’t even drop anything worth selling.”
“It’s fun, so not guilty.”
The two Psychics who’d killed him crushed the dropped item under their boots, destroying it. Once it disappeared, they scanned their surroundings like predators searching for their next prey.
“Hey, there’s another one over there.”
“Welcome, rookie!”
What the hell are these lunatics?!
They spotted me and came charging like maniacs. Humans instinctively run when someone chases them. But with nothing but a stick-like starter staff and being freshly spawned, there was no way I could outrun high-level players that agile.
They closed in instantly, boxing me in from both sides and beating me just like the previous guy. Thankfully, I couldn’t feel pain, but fists flying toward my face made my vision jerk back and forth.
Finally, my screen dropped to the ground with a thud. They’d struck my neck.
<<‘GentleTouch’ has died. Some items have been lost. Items not lost will suffer durability reduction.>>
I wanted to look around the now black-and-white surroundings, but it felt like my head had been separated from my body—I couldn’t lift it. I reset and hit login again.
But this time, the moment the screen brightened, those same bastards started beating me again. They’d been waiting right in front of the spawn point, killing everyone who appeared. After dying twice, I even lost my beginner staff.
“Ah!! What the hell is wrong with these assholes?!”
I logged out and yanked off the helmet. It’d been a long time since a game made me this furious. How could they just stand at the spawn and slaughter every newbie that came in?
Fine. I’ll try one more time.
The moment the screen changed, I sprinted toward the village and shouted at the top of my lungs. In Blood Planet, if you were within a certain range, you could automatically hear nearby voices—unless you disabled it in the settings. I screamed desperately at the Psychics chasing right behind me.
“P-please! Don’t hit me! Please!!”
But once again, my head must’ve been chopped off because my screen slammed downward, and all I could see was a pebble on the ground. As everything faded into black and white, I frantically typed into the chat before being sent back to the waiting screen.
[GentleTouch: pls stp]
[ImSorry: bb]
[WhatAreYouSorryFor: bb2]
<<‘GentleTouch’ has died. Some items have been lost. Items not lost will suffer durability reduction.>>
<<No warp registered. Moving to waiting screen.>>
“Ah!! I’m done! I quit!”
I’d somehow ended up with a useless burden. Before lying down on my bed, I was so enraged that I sent a complaint email to customer service about this behavior.
***
The next day, I opened my real estate office and cleaned up. Feeling refreshed, I made myself a cup of coffee and settled down. Mornings were usually slow, so as soon as I turned on the PC, I logged into the official Blood Planet homepage to check for a response.
They claimed to run a 24-hour customer center, and sure enough, there was a reply. While I’d poured out an entire page of furious grievances, their response was nothing but a copy-paste macro message.
[Greetings, new traveler, and welcome to Blood Planet. Regarding your inquiry, please note that our in-game free PK system prevents us from providing assistance in this matter. We will continue striving to maintain a pleasant gaming environment. Thank you for your continued support.]
“Ah! I get slaughtered the moment I log in—what ‘continued support’ are you asking for?!”
Since I ran the office alone, I could shout like this freely. But because I’d left the door open while cleaning, the hardware store owner next door glanced in while sweeping the front path. Embarrassed, I stood and bowed slightly. He clicked his tongue and shook his head.
To run a real estate office, you had to leave a good impression on neighboring shop owners and landlords. It’d only been two months since I opened—I couldn’t afford to be labeled a lunatic. So I made a cup of coffee and brought it to him.
The hardware store owner was the only person I’d grown close to since starting here. The nearby real estate agents had made no effort to hide their discomfort at having another competitor around. Like an ugly duckling, I just tried to quietly hold my ground.
But….
My eyes landed on the car parked in front of my office again. Business was already dead enough as it was. It had been parking here consistently for the past two months.
“Why does he always park here?”
A black sports car gleamed ominously as it sat squarely in front of my office. I walked toward the windshield to look for a contact number, intending to call and ask them to move it, but the hardware store owner waved his hand, signaling me to leave it alone.
“That car belongs to the building owner across the street.”
“Then all the more reason to tell him to move it. Why park in front of someone else’s building instead of his own?”
“…Tsk tsk. First time opening a real estate office, huh?”
I understood what he meant. When I needed to make good impressions on landlords and potential clients, was I really going to risk getting on someone’s bad side over parking?
“Hmm… You’re right.”
I quietly put my phone away and took the broom from him, sweeping the front area. Even though we were behind the main street, there was decent foot traffic, so cigarette butts were scattered everywhere. As I swept, a still-burning cigarette butt dropped right near my feet.
“Huh?”
Judging by the angle, it seemed a tall man in a hood had flicked it. Our eyes met briefly.
“Hey! Don’t throw it here.”
He stared at me without much reaction, then opened the door of the black sports car parked in front of my office.
I’d been about to say more, but the moment I saw him get into that car, I shut my mouth. Black hoodie. Black car. He practically radiated bad vibes.
They said he was the building owner… but he’s young….
With a roaring engine, he kicked up dust and sped off. Probably too lazy to go down to the underground parking, so he just parked wherever. And with a car that expensive, at that. I crushed the cigarette butt under my shoe and muttered about how unfair the world was.
Still, the hardware store owner had been right. After that brief eye contact, he didn’t look like the type to politely move his car if asked.
You’re the one who littered—why are you glaring like that?
Grumbling, I swept a bit more before heading back inside to organize things and check my listings.
Quite a few had already been contracted out, which left me feeling drained. Cheap, good properties sold fast—but the real problem was getting customers to even walk through my door in the first place.
“At this rate, I’ll starve.”
Yeah. What game?
Sighing heavily, I finished checking listings. By mid-afternoon, I grabbed lunch, then sat outside a nearby convenience store eating ice cream while fiddling with my phone. Then I suddenly thought of venting to Han-woo about what happened yesterday and called him.
[Hey. Did you manage to play properly yesterday?]
“I kept dying. Don’t you read the boards?”
[Oh, those sorry bastards? They do that sometimes. They probably won’t be there today.]
“Stop joking and help me out. Just take me to the village. There’s no PK in the village, right? I dropped all my gear—I’m literally standing there in nothing but underwear.”
Loud laughter burst through the receiver. After laughing himself breathless, he told me to log in around 9 p.m.
Han-woo’s character name was [ToTheLord], an incredibly reassuring name. I just hoped my friend would kindly send those two jerks straight to the Lord.
“I’ll call you later. Thanks!”
Feeling a little better, I headed back to the office.
***
The reason I’d opened this real estate office was because the company I worked for collapsed right at the start of the year I turned twenty-eight.
There weren’t many job opportunities back in my hometown, so I came to Seoul with nothing but my real estate license and recklessly opened an office. I’d always dreamed of working in Seoul—but there was another reason too.
A stalker.
A male stalker.
After finishing my military service, I’d been living at home and working part-time. We had a small yard where we often hung laundry out to dry. Then one day, my underwear started disappearing.
“Mom! Where’s my underwear?”
“Where would it be? Hanging outside. Since you’re out there, bring in the blankets too.”
And with a lecture thrown at the back of my head about how I was old enough to wash and hang my own underwear, I went out to the yard.
I gathered the blankets and slung clothes over one arm, shuffling back and forth along the clothesline—but strangely, none of my underwear was there. When I told Mom, who was trimming bean sprouts in the living room, that I couldn’t find any of mine, she looked baffled.
“Why would I hide your underwear? Stop talking nonsense and fold what you brought in.”
She answered indifferently without even checking.
But… it was really strange.
I wondered if they were stuck somewhere inside the washing machine. After all, socks losing their partners was a common occurrence. I liked flashy patterns—cheetah prints, leopard prints—so I only wore colorful underwear. I even theorized that neighborhood cats or wild birds of prey might’ve carried them off.
As I continued part-time jobs and eventually found full-time employment, buying new underwear every payday became a monthly ritual.
“Maybe some girl who likes you is stealing them?”
What had sounded like complaining one day started to feel like bragging. Even a pair of sneakers I’d left out to dry disappeared—just one shoe.
“If you’re gonna take them, at least take both! What am I supposed to do with one?!”
I’d grumble loudly in the yard while glancing around, half hoping some secret admirer would hear me. “Ah, this damn popularity,” I’d joke to myself. The more my underwear vanished, the more I deliberately bought even sexier pairs.
On days when nothing went missing, I even felt faintly disappointed. And just like that, two years passed. Even at twenty-seven, my life was the same.
Then one day, a package arrived.
When I first opened it, there was only a single piece of underwear inside. I wondered if I’d ordered something online and forgotten. But when I unfolded it, something sticky smeared onto my hand.
I caught a familiar scent and cautiously sniffed it—then chills ran down my spine. It was that unmistakable smell every man knows. The box wasn’t a standard delivery either—just a plain package with my name sticker attached. Someone had deliberately left it at my door.
I tried to dismiss it as a sick prank. But then… once a week, sometimes twice, boxes kept arriving. I couldn’t say anything in case Mom saw and got shocked. And on those animal-print underwear I loved wearing, there was always semen smeared across them.
After three months of receiving them consistently, I realized just how many pairs I’d lost. But going to the police and saying I was being stalked by a man with these in hand felt too humiliating.
A few months later, when the company went bankrupt and I decided to move to Seoul to open a real estate office, Mom hid her disappointment behind, “Good. I was sick of doing your laundry anyway.”
In Seoul, I managed to secure a first-floor office with relatively low costs. Strangely enough, once I moved, the packages stopped completely. Maybe he’d finally given up on me. It was a relief.
If only I could settle down here smoothly, I’d have nothing to worry about—but after actually opening the office, life felt tight and suffocating. Pushing aside my self-pity about how gaming didn’t fit my situation, I changed my perspective to relieve some real-world stress.
“Let’s play a bit and boost my mood. Maybe snag some rare drops too.”
Tonight, no matter what, I’m making it to that village.
