“Assistant Manager Lee, aren’t you heading home?”

Someone tapped my shoulder, jolting me awake. I’d been curled up asleep at my desk, and now I cracked my eyes open just a sliver.

“…Team Leader Seo? What brings you here at this hour…?”

The voice belonged to Team Leader Seo. She stuck out her tongue halfway and winked cutely.

“I left my wallet in the office. So I swung by real quick. But there you were, shivering in the dark, so I figured I’d say something. Sorry if I woke you. Wasn’t planning to.”

She was my direct superior—a prodigy who’d snagged the Team Leader spot at just twenty-nine.

But Team Leader Seo drew more office gossip for her looks than for her ability.

People said she should’ve been an idol or something. Not that I cared one bit.

We worked together. Whether her face was pretty or not didn’t make a difference to me.

“It’s great that you’re working hard, but do you have to make it so obvious? Makes me look like the bad guy when my subordinate’s pulling all-nighters like this.”

She smiled with her eyes.

I blinked, then slowly took in the surroundings. The office had been dark for hours. The only light came from my monitor.

God, that’s embarrassing.

I smoothed down the bird’s nest that was my hair.

“Rak’s beta server opens in just seven days. Gotta squash those bugs whenever I can.”

Raken’s. Rak, as we shortened it among ourselves. The masterpiece we’d poured years into.

Development took a solid six years, no joke.

The whole company had bet everything on this game. If it flopped, we’d go down with it.

Not exaggerating—the company’s fate really hung on Rak.

Time flew by, huh. Back when we started on Raken’s, I was still a rookie, fumbling tasks and catching flak left and right.

Now here I was, promoted to Assistant Manager after putting in some time. Pay was about the same, though.

“True, the community buzz is picking up fast these days. Word spreads like wildfire. Release something half-baked, get bad press, and you’re done for. Gamers have high standards now, don’t they?”

“They shell out nearly a hundred thousand won for an unfinished product, and it feels like a scam. We want leniency since we’re the ones releasing it, but they’re paying customers, fair and square.”

I shrugged as I replied.

“That’s what I like about you, Assistant Manager Lee. You always speak from the gamer’s perspective. Super self-aware, I guess? Sometimes it borders on going rogue, which gives me headaches. Heh.”

“Sorry for stirring up trouble…”

“It’s a compliment, a compliment. I love games too, that’s why I do this job, but I can’t match your passion.”

I scratched my cheek at her flattery. Most game studios were sweatshops.

Still, the reason I’d thrown myself into this industry was simple: I loved games.

Loved them like crazy.

I was a certified gaming nut.

If I had to pick one, RPGs were my obsession.

That thrill when your character levels up or you snag a hidden piece—it’s always fresh, always intense.

But I couldn’t settle for just playing anymore. Somehow, I’d ended up making them.

And my debut glory? A near-future dystopia, my favorite genre. Hits different.

It’s niche, sure. Doesn’t sell like mainstream fantasy or FPS. I get it.

But that’s what makes it meaningful.

There’s a certain satisfaction in firing the opening shot. The superman on the white horse always appears out on the barren plain, doesn’t he?

I’m the game industry’s superman on a white horse.

Of course, I’d be lying if I said I never regretted diving in.

Didn’t expect the industry to be this brutal.

Fixed-term contracts, overtime as regular as mealtimes, and pay that was peanuts for the workload. Fucking hell.

I could rant about the hardships all night and day.

But.

Games were that good. Good enough to wipe away every gripe.

I wanted to ship something perfect. That obsession kept me glued to the office this late.

Clench.

Team Leader Seo watched me ball my fist, looking impressed.

No wonder. Who wouldn’t love a subordinate voluntarily sacrificing work-life balance for overtime? I’d smile too if I were her.

“Here, take this.”

Suddenly, she pulled a card from her pocket. Her employee ID.

I stared blankly, and she flashed a pretty smile.

“My ID’s on the back. Yours only gets limited access, right?”

True enough.

Access levels vary by rank. For security and leak prevention.

“Log in with mine, Assistant Manager Lee. It’ll make bug-hunting easier. I’d love to help, but I’ve got plans.”

“Doesn’t this break company policy?”

“One week to launch—are we really going to split hairs now? And if it does, I’ll take the heat for you. Don’t worry. My arm’s getting tired.”

She dangled the ID in front of my nose. I couldn’t refuse the kindness and took it awkwardly.

“I’ll make good use of it, Team Leader.”

“No problem.”

Finally, she slipped on her coat and turned. Before leaving, she warned me.

“Don’t glue your eyes to that monitor. What if you get sucked in?”

“Sounds like you’re tense too, cracking jokes like that. Stuff like that’s just webnovel nonsense. Never gonna happen.”

“There’s no ‘never’ in this world.”

I tried to laugh it off, but she looked dead serious. Then she caught herself and relaxed.

“I-I mean, just take it easy. Good luck, Assistant Manager Lee!”

She rushed out, fumbling her words. My gaze shifted from her spot back to the monitor.

My lips twitched.

I’d played it humble, but I was thrilled. If this weren’t the office, I’d have whooped out loud.

Me, a lowly Assistant Manager, accessing an admin-level operator account!

For a gaming addict, it was the kind of moment that swells your chest.

“Let’s do this.”

I hurried to enter the ID and password. The interface filled the screen.

Scroll.

Mid-scroll, I narrowed my eyes.

The interface looked different. New items at the bottom.

“Stats look the same, though.”

Life, Mental, Strength, Agility, Magic Power, Faith.

The core six stats were unchanged.

Quick aside: Why Magic Power and Faith in a near-future dystopia?

Blunt truth: Money.

We gotta eat. Can’t live on dirt. This game’s do-or-die for us. Anyway.

We loaded Raken’s with fantasy elements.

Play mages or holy knights, even if they clash with the setting.

All of it is built on a foundation of martial arts.

Hottest genre in Korea lately.

I didn’t know what you’d like, so I prepared everything.

God game for just 72,000 won…

“Talking to myself now.”

I shook my head and refocused.

“Hm.”

Clicking it told me nothing more.

“Gotta log in to learn more?”

Fine. I’d do as I was told.

Click, click.

I like setting my character name to my real one. It does wonders for immersion. My name is rare enough that nobody ever guesses it’s genuine.

“Appearance: black hair, black eyes. Good enough.”

I hit ‘Create’. Excitement building—

“Wh-what the hell?”

Sensing something off, I reached for the mouse—but the monitor flashed, blinding me.

Flash!

I squinted, then blacked out. Last memory on Earth.

A solemn air hung over the courtroom. The spectators murmured among themselves behind their hands.

“Today’s prisoner on death row, right?”

“Oh my, what treason did they commit?”

“Heard they messed with Siesta…”

The doors swung open. A robed middle-aged man entered. Whispers died instantly.

Step, step.

The hush that fell the instant he appeared was enough on its own to mark him as a man of rank.

He was a Lake City Government judge. He nodded at the guards.

“Bring him.”

“Yes, sir.”

A metallic sound came from behind the judge. It was the rough clatter of chains tangling against one another.

Two stone-faced guards dragged a man into court.

Every eye in the room turned to him.

He was a handsome man, pale all over. Hair like spilled ink, and skin so bloodless the veins showed blue right through it. The cuffs and shackles had scraped his wrists and ankles raw.

The guards forced him to kneel center court. The judge spoke.

“The defendant has threatened Lake City’s peace. This court sentences you on charges of national disruption. Penalty: death. Execution in ten days at 14:15:53. Three councilors will witness. Final statement?”

My vision blurred softly. Mind foggy like underwater. Fuck, a dream?

It was far too vivid for a dream. Which meant the name that man had just called was mine.

I scanned the crowd and let out a dry laugh. Absurdity hit hard.

Team Leader Seo’s warning was real.

I had no way of knowing why I’d been dumped into a world like this. All I knew was that I was a condemned man.

Ah, no.

Wait, no—one more thing.

I created this world.

“Death row inmate Lee Taebaek!”

This impudent world wants its creator dead. Rude bastards. Time to speak.

“…Fuckin’ yapping your asses off.”

If those impulse words sealed my fate.

If this body was doomed to die.

“Wh-what the—seize that bastard now—”

I’ll twist the world to survive.