Chapter 1
Clang...! Clang...! Clang...!
Every time the hammer came down, red sparks flew.
The scorching heat pouring out from the furnace washed over me.
By now, my whole body had long since been soaked in sweat.
My arms were starting to tremble and my throat was dry, but I couldn't stop.
What I was hammering now was the spine bone of an ancient dragon.
A legendary-grade material.
Hammering also had its own fixed speed and rhythm.
You judged the material's condition by its color and heat, then struck it with the proper rhythm.
That was the most basic principle of blacksmithing.
If you slipped even a little, you could ruin the material.
And there was one more reason I couldn't stop.
That was...
Fwoosh-!
Crackle.
Damn. It's already started.
I could already hear the sound of fireworks outside.
Right, the reason I couldn't stop was exactly this.
This thing I was doing right now.
Because this was the last day of service for the game [Kingdom of Fire].
The reality check was starting to hit me.
On the very last day, was it really right for me to be stuck here doing this?
Shouldn't I be out there too, savoring the lingering afterglow as I watched a game that had defined an era for so long come to an end like everyone else?
"Shit. Why the hell did I choose blacksmithing."
This was a VR game.
The first VR device to recreate 95% of real-world sensation.
And this game was the top hit that helped drive that device's explosive popularity.
Well, now it's been pushed aside by other games.
But back in the early days, it got so popular the servers kept crashing.
It was a worldwide hit.
Adrenaline-pumping, realistic combat.
Vast seas and grasslands. Deserts. Jungles.
And more than two hundred different jobs, no less.
People jumped into the game in search of the adventures they'd dreamed of as children.
I was one of them.
It was a whole new world.
The foods I tasted here for the first time, the new sights.
All of it made my heart race.
I was 18 then.
There wasn't any special reason I chose blacksmithing.
Haven't you ever had that feeling?
The feeling that you want to try something different from everyone else.
For me, that was blacksmithing.
When I first followed an NPC into the smithy,
something just clicked.
I took the hot iron out of the furnace with tongs.
Put it on the anvil.
And hammered it with a hammer.
The feeling then, the sensation in my hand, and the metal gradually taking shape one piece at a time.
For some reason, those flying sparks sent a rush of dopamine through me.
One by one, the things I finished somehow gave me that same satisfying feeling.
That was when it started.
I made up my mind.
Ah. This was the path I had to take.
When the game first launched, the developers and operators often went live on stream.
Each time, they revealed newly released jobs and areas.
As I ate and watched the stream, hoping to learn something new.
[For the first person to hit max level, there will be a very special perk. Please look forward to it.]
A perk?
The spoon in my hand froze for a moment.
[And the next news we'll be sharing is-]
Without any further explanation, the operators moved straight on to the next announcement.
Something special for the world's number one.
What on earth could it be?
A special perk.
Would they give out some one-of-a-kind in-game item?
No. There was no way they'd just give out a mere item.
No matter how you looked at it, this was a game played by millions across the world.
There was no way they'd end it with something that trivial.
Maybe they'd give away company stock?
My thoughts kept spiraling.
Back then, I was hooked on the word perk.
Men are wired to be drawn to things like that.
It's not like One Piece became a massive hit for no reason.
But the fact that they were giving out a perk was only mentioned briefly among countless other announcements.
No matter how much I searched, I couldn't find any news about it.
Then a sudden thought struck me.
Could it be that hardly anyone even knows about this?
The announcement broadcast was live, but most people checked the patch notes instead.
The patch notes made no mention of the perk.
So that meant only the people who heard it during the livestream knew about it.
Of course, I hadn't been seriously aiming for it from the start.
But as the game's systems leveled up, it became exponentially harder to gain experience.
By the time the game's popularity had faded and started to die down, people above level 60 could be counted on one hand.
Gulp.
Back then, I remembered.
[For the first person to hit max level, there will be a very special perk. Please look forward to it-]
The excitement I felt then.
No way.
Could it actually be possible?
I opened the stats page.
There, I set the job filter to all.
Then I selected the world-
Click.
[7th. Lee Dohyun.]
2nd in South Korea.
7th in the world.
I had vaguely known it already.
I spent all day in the smithy.
And only went out sometimes to gather materials.
Before I knew it, there were hardly any players higher level than me left.
I just thought crafting classes were easier to level.
But that wasn't it.
Swish. Swish-
No matter how far I scrolled through the stats.
I couldn't find a single non-combat class, let alone a blacksmith.
Come to think of it.
Wasn't that obvious?
In truth, a hyper-realistic game wasn't necessarily kind to crafting classes.
Sitting in a blacksmith's shop in front of a blazing furnace.
Spending all day hammering away.
It wasn't a job just anyone could do unless they were suited for it.
One by one, people got bored and drifted away.
By the end, blacksmith players were practically impossible to find.
'If I do this well, maybe I can make it.'
That's how it began.
I got even more hooked on the game in pursuit of that perk.
As a result.
[LV.99]
I lifted my head for a moment and glanced up at the experience bar.
In the end, even on the last day, nobody had reached max level.
And right now, my experience was at 99 percent.
Surely, if I just finished this, I'd hit max level.
One legendary-grade item.
That was exactly how much remained.
"No, but shit. My arm hurts like hell."
It had already been three hours.
No, seriously. Was this really right?
No, seriously. I'm max level, aren't I?
I'd made legendary-grade items several times before, but this one was taking unusually long.
Bang-bang-bang.
Bang-bang-bang-bang.
The fireworks outside were getting faster and faster.
This... what if it doesn't work?
Clang...! Clang...!
Still, there was no other way.
All I could do was keep hammering.
I had already poured ten years into this.
If the service ended before I finished, I might regret it even as an old man someday.
"Grandpa. Is it that sound again? I think it's time for your medicine."
I'd probably just get scolded by my grandson.
Bang-bang-bang.
Bang-bang-bang-!
Just as the fireworks crescendoed and my anxiety grew.
Flash-
A blue light burst in front of my eyes.
Then a notification window popped up.
[The item has been completed.]
[Legendary. You have completed the Ancient Dragon Greatsword.]
[Level Up. You have reached LV.100.]
A flood of notification windows appeared one after another.
I flung the sword I'd barely finished aside and dismissed the notifications.
Where is it. Where.
[Congratulations.]
Then a translucent window flashed into view.
It wasn't flashy, but in large letters, each character was neatly written one by one.
[You have reached the highest level for the first time.]
"Shit! It's done!"
I shouted, clenching my fist tight.
I was alone in the smithy anyway.
Adrenaline flooded my mind.
Ten years. It had been ten years.
I had spent a full decade running toward this day.
[A perk will be granted to the first person to achieve it-]
The status window appeared, letter by letter.
It existed. It really existed.
There really was a perk.
All through the game, there had been a knot of anxiety in me.
In truth, it had only ever been mentioned once on the livestream, and nowhere else.
So maybe they had misspoken.
Or maybe it had been some ominous idea they planned to give out and then scrapped.
But that wasn't it.
It really was there. The perk!!
"Yeah, shit. They should give it. After all this, that's only fair."
A grin spread across my face.
My heart was pounding.
So what is it? What are they giving me?
I waited, staring intently as the status window changed.
But then.
Something felt off.
No matter how long I waited, the status window didn't change.
It only got as far as 'A perk will be gran-' before stopping.
What? Is it bugged?
So what are they giving me?
I got impatient.
I just kept staring helplessly at the status window.
The screen began to flicker erratically, turning semi-transparent as the colors shifted back and forth.
Through the semi-transparent screen, I could see my studio apartment.
The smithy and the dark room alternated in and out of view at the same time.
"Huh. Don't tell me."
No. Please.
Bzzt.
And then.
A translucent white window popped up.
[No Game.]
It was the VR device's standby screen.
What.
Wait a second.
Shit. What is this? Did the game shut off?
No. Don't mess with me.
I hurriedly groped around on the bed.
I barely managed to pull out the smartphone wedged between the bed and the wall.
No way. No way.
With trembling hands, I turned on the smartphone screen.
[12:00 AM]
Ah.
The date had changed.
Service ended. It was over.
Just in case, I turned the VR device off and on again.
All I got was the screen saying the game couldn't be found.
I went into the forums.
I clicked on any post.
A photo taken with the final fireworks.
Back.
I scrolled through the titles, skimming them.
It didn't seem like I was the only one who couldn't get in.
Everyone was saying goodbye.
The strength drained from my hand.
Thud.
The smartphone fell onto the bed.
"......."
Is this really the end? I've spent ten years on this?
Damn it. How many years did I spend just to get that fucking perk?
"Is this... right?"
Only the faint light from the screen lit the pitch-black room.
"......."
The room was empty.
Inside, only the standard refrigerator and desk stood there.
Mold-covered wallpaper.
Plastic bottles and takeout containers were strewn everywhere.
I stared blankly at the ceiling.
It didn't feel real.
I couldn't believe everything had ended like this.
Gulp. Gulp.
I took a swig from the water bottle.
Lukewarm water slid down my throat into my stomach.
"....."
Only then did I calm down a little.
Mm. It's over.
Just like that.
I felt oddly calm.
I wasn't as angry as I'd expected.
Surprisingly, I didn't feel anything at all.
I wiped the sweat from my forehead with my sleeve.
'Well. It's not like I didn't know.'
The notice about the upcoming service shutdown had already been up for months.
And half of me had thought it might end before I even reached max level.
And there was always the chance there wouldn't be any perk either.
I had told myself not to expect too much.
Afraid of being disappointed, I'd already imagined the worst possible outcome over and over.
Like packing a parachute in advance.
"Yeah."
Heh.
A laugh escaped me for no reason.
Yeah. I figured it'd be like this.
There had been a perk, sure, but with the game gone, there'd have been nowhere to use it.
It was just inertia.
I was just doing it because I thought I should at least see it through to the end.
"......."
Silence hung in the empty room.
As I sat there motionless.
Something slowly crept in.
The sensation of something quietly collapsing in a corner of my chest.
My body seemed to realize I'd lost something precious before my mind did.
My chest tightened.
A horrifying emptiness that the word 'empty' didn't even begin to cover.
“What… was the perk…”
A murmur that wasn't meant for anyone slipped out.
There was nothing to answer.
*
Days passed.
I don't know how many.
It had been so long since I'd opened the blackout curtains that day and night had long since blurred together.
I had nothing to do.
My routine over the past ten years had barely changed at all.
Wake up in the morning and log into VR.
Go into the smithy and hammer away. If I got hungry in the middle, I'd grab a quick meal and go back in.
I kept making things until I got sleepy, then shut off the game and went to sleep.
That was my everyday life.
I'd never even had a part-time job.
Selling items brought money in.
Lately, I'd focused on leveling up as fast as possible, so my bank balance had been scraping the bottom for a long time.
But all of that routine disappeared overnight.
I ended up spending longer and longer lying there, staring at the ceiling and doing nothing.
Every so often I'd fiddle with my phone, fall asleep, then wake up and repeat it all over again.
Once, I checked the game community.
The boards had already been shut down.
Even after seeing that, I didn't feel anything.
I just put the phone down.
One day, a package arrived.
Inside were apples.
At the very top was a note.
[Dohyun, are you eating well? Auntie sent some apples. Eat them while they're fresh. Mom.]
She must've been worried about her deadbeat son who couldn't even manage a proper phone call.
Mom would sometimes send side dishes or fruit like this.
I opened the box and took out an apple, but I didn't have a knife to cut it with.
I bought a fruit knife at the convenience store.
I returned to the studio room and tore open the plastic wrap.
The knife landed in my hand.
At that moment, my hand stopped.
From the handle to the tip of the blade.
I could feel where the weight was shifting.
The balance point was slightly tilted toward the blade.
Because the handle material was too light.
The blade angle was about 15 degrees.
Not bad for a fruit knife, but the grind in the middle was uneven, leaving a slight lump.
'This. If I redo the sharpening near the base of the blade and add a little counterweight to the handle-'
That was as far as I got.
'What am I doing right now?'
It was a fruit knife I'd bought at the convenience store for 3,000 won.
What was I even doing, talking about sharpening it and adding counterweights?
It was all pointless.
I set the knife down in the sink.
I turned off the lights and lay down in bed.
But my hands felt oddly restless.
That feeling of holding a knife.
The sensation of gauging its weight and assessing the quality of the material.
My hands itched.
Then, as if I'd just woken from a dream, I realized my fingers had been moving on their own.
The feeling of gripping a hammer. That weight.
The habit of bringing my palm close to molten metal to gauge its temperature.
The fingertips that moved as I engraved mana circuits into weapons.
The game was over, but
the things ingrained in my body over ten years didn't seem to have gone away.
The urge to make something rose in my throat.
But there was nothing to make, and nowhere to make it.
*
Those days kept going on and on.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
I heard someone knocking at the door outside.
What.
I hadn't ordered anything.
Much less anyone coming to visit.
Maybe Mom had sent side dishes again.
Still disheveled, I walked to the front door.
Then I opened it.
There was no one there.
The empty hallway.
Only the elevator indicator at the far end was faintly lit.
'Did I imagine it?'
Right, I guess I'd just been cooped up inside too long.
Just as I was about to close the door.
Flap-
Something that had been wedged between the floor and the door gap fluttered down and fell back to the floor.
'What is this?'
It was a small piece of paper, about business-card size.
But the material was unusual.
Neither paper nor plastic.
Rough, like hanji, yet oddly thick.
○○ City ○○ District ○○ Market ○○-gil ○○-beonji
Only an address was written on the front.
What is this.
I turned it over.
There, a small hammer emblem was engraved in relief.
I flipped it back and forth.
What is this?
I couldn't figure it out.
There wasn't nearly enough information for a business card.
A new kind of scam?
Or maybe someone from next door had just dropped it?
While I was thinking that.
My fingertips stopped.
A hammer?
Hammer.
Definitely. A hammer.
"……The smithy?"
No way.
A word flashed through my mind.
Perk.
…No way.
I let out a bitter chuckle.
It was nonsense.
The game was already over, and nothing had been sent separately.
I'd even called to ask just in case, and they said there had never been any perk to begin with.
So after denying it like that, were they now planning to compensate me?
Because they were worried something might come up later?
But they had to know there was no proof.
Realistically, at a company that large.
Was it even possible they'd just leave a business card behind without any separate contact?
'...Then what is it? Did they really just scatter these around to advertise a smithy?'
That didn't seem likely either.
A smithy, in this day and age?
Sure, they exist, but would they really advertise one like this?
And with no slogan at all, just a business card?
I rubbed the back of the card with my thumb.
In the hazy sunlight coming through the window-
something glimmered in the engraved hammer design.
From a corner of my chest that had been empty for days.
Something began to throb softly.