Chapter 1 – The Fake Mage (１)

“That’s how it is. You don’t need to come in starting tomorrow, Mr. Gijun.”

“Is there no way? I’ll try harder.”

“…Hoo…”

The Guild Master let out a short sigh.

Then he set his face and spoke.

“Mr. Gijun. Do you think this is something that can be fixed by trying harder?”

“…”

At the Guild Master’s words, Gijun shut his mouth.

“I took you on because you could handle two attributes… but your magic isn’t strong, and your Mana isn’t abundant.”

It was true.

Gijun was a mage who wielded two attributes.

A genius among geniuses, with talent in the top 0.1%.

But that was it.

No matter how many attributes he commanded, Gijun had a fatal flaw.

[Mana Circle Formation Disorder]

That was the name of his condition.

He could form a single ring, but was unable to weave more than one.

A phenomenon found in only a handful of mages worldwide.

Fewer than ten cases had ever been reported across the entire globe.

In Korea, Gijun was the only one.

Naturally, there was no cure.

Weaving any more Mana Circles would risk his heart bursting.

For a mage, it was practically a death sentence.

A mage was undeniably a rare asset.

Magic’s firepower was so formidable that even guns couldn’t match it, and it was common knowledge that hunting a powerful Boss Monster was impossible without a mage.

But not a 1st-Circle mage.

1st-Circle magic was the most basic of basics—nothing that other job classes couldn’t cover.

People even said it was better cost-performance to take a few M16s into a Dungeon than to bring along a 1st-Circle mage.

“I know you handle magic well, Mr. Gijun.”

The Guild Master said.

He couldn’t deny that fact either.

Gijun’s control over magic was undoubtedly top-tier.

But what was the use?

The power of the magic itself was just too low.

In reality, wasn’t an average 3rd-Circle mage far more useful than the best 1st-Circle one?

“You should stop being greedy and find another path, Mr. Gijun. You know nothing will change by forcing this.”

“…Yes.”

Gijun answered weakly.

In the end, he’d been cut from his last guild too.

Right after just a single Raid.

There’s really no place for me in this field.

Even in a tiny guild with fewer than ten members, there was no room for Gijun.

“There’s plenty you can do in the world without being a Superhuman, right?”

Gijun bowed to the Guild Master and stepped out of the guild building.

He looked up at the sign hanging in front of it: [Cheongsan].

Haah… Yeah, I should’ve given up on this a long time ago.

He’d still been working as a Superhuman because he couldn’t let go of his attachment to being a mage.

But Gijun had known for a long time.

A mage who couldn’t form Circles had no value.

That he should have quit ages ago.

“‘…What a waste.'”

Gijun felt the bitter weight of that waste pressing down on him.

Back at the Academy, he’d never gone a day without someone calling him a prodigy.

His mana-handling skill alone was among the best in the Academy’s history.

If it weren’t for the Mana Circle Formation Disorder…

He’d be thriving in a top guild by now, a promising talent climbing the ranks.

With a dual-element affinity like his, the possibilities would’ve been endless.

He looked up at the sky.

Why did it have to be so painfully clear today?

The world’s brightness mocked his own darkness, and the complaint spilled out unbidden.

“‘Is there really no way?'”

The stubborn dream of being a mage still clung to him.

Letting go of that last thread would bring peace—but he couldn’t bring himself to drop it.

Then his phone rang.

[Kim Jiyun]

“‘Jiyun?'”

A junior from the Academy.

The only connection from those days he still kept in touch with.

“Yeah.”

[Where are you, Oppa¹?]

“…Over by the guild entrance.”

[Going on a Raid?]

“…No. Just grabbing a bite.”

At his words, Jiyun paused for a moment.

Then—

[Come to Sadang. I’ll treat you. Hurry up—I’m nearby anyway.]

Before Gijun could even answer, she’d already rattled it all off.

“…”

Gijun scratched his head roughly and headed for Sadang.

His wallet wasn’t fat enough to turn down a free meal.

*

“Why so slumped? Did you commit a crime?”

“Turns out quitting what you’ve done your whole life isn’t easy.”

“No kidding. But come on, you’re only twenty-seven. Plenty of chances left. Don’t let it get you down.”

“Anyone listening would think you’re my noona².”

“Hey, when you make good money, you earn the title.”

“…Can’t argue with that. Haha…”

“Puhahaha!”

Jiyun burst out laughing, bright and free.

Gijun, who’d been moping, couldn’t help a silly grin spreading across his face at her laugh.

This was exactly why she was the only one from the Academy he still kept in touch with.

Being around her just made you feel better for no reason.

Just then, their food arrived.

“I told you, you could’ve ordered something expensive.”

“No thanks, I’ve got some shame left.”

“But seriously… What’s our Gijun Oppa gonna do? You’re supposed to get married someday, and here you are unemployed…”

“You get married first. What am I gonna do with marriage?”

“Oh, I could get married whenever I wanted.”

“…Yeah, right.”

At that, Gijun’s mouth snapped shut again.

As annoying as it was, he couldn’t deny it.

Jiyun was currently active in Korea’s second-largest guild.

And with her looks, it wasn’t an exaggeration to say guys lined up for her.

Gijun laughed out loud.

Jiyun chuckled too and asked.

“You know what?”

“What.”

“Yeah. You being all down doesn’t suit you. You look best when you’re being stubborn as a mule.”

“‘Stubborn as a mule’? Where’d you get that?”

“Just saying, hehe…”

With that, Jiyun broke into a quiet laugh again, as if amused by something only she could see.

“And another thing.”

“…?” Gijun’s brow lifted.

“Me getting here, it’s really thanks to you, isn’t it? I learned so much from you back at the Academy…”

“Learned? You did it yourself.”

Feeling awkward, Gijun scooped up a mouthful of pork stir-fry and shoved it in.

“Anyway! If the road ahead feels hopeless, just call me. I’ll support you for life. Trust me. I’m saying this because I’m your Oppa in spirit—remember what I said back then? No matter what happens, I’ll look out for you. I’m a girl who never forgets a favor!”

At those words, Gijun let out a small, involuntary laugh.

Even if it was just talk, it meant something.

Truly.

“Oh, and speaking of that, Oppa.”

“Hm?” he answered, still chewing.

“Try it out. Real Spirit.”

“…That’s a game, isn’t it?” he scoffed, incredulous.

The mention of Real Spirit drew a dry laugh from Gijun.

“A game, in this situation? Are you trying to starve me to death?”

Startled by his response, Jiyun shot back, flustered.

“Did this guy just crawl out of a cryo-pod? Real Spirit isn’t just a game anymore, you know.”

With that, she pulled up a video for him to see.

As Gijun watched, his eyes widened a fraction.

“What the… this is really a game?” he breathed, stunned.

“See? This man knows nothing—absolutely nothing!!”

“Whoa…” He stared, transfixed.

“I really wish you’d play this, Oppa.”

Then Jiyun’s face turned dead serious.

“Your talent… it’s too precious to waste. I’ve seen countless mages, but you were the best. And at least in Real Spirit, there’s no disease trying to torment you.”

“……” Gijun fell silent.

*

‘Real Spirit…’

Real Spirit was far more incredible than he’d imagined.

Its Player count was estimated at a staggering one billion.

Plenty of people raked in thousands, even tens of thousands a month just from playing.

But more than that, one of Real Spirit’s biggest draws was that it faithfully translated the abilities of real-life Superhumans into the game.

‘They actually hire real Superhumans to model their powers… so even ordinary people who never Awakened can freely wield those abilities in-game…’

It wasn’t the money that hooked Gijun—it was that one line.

‘Jiyun was right.’

It was impossible in real life,

but if he could live out a mage’s dream inside a game…

‘Then… there’s no reason not to.’

Gijun’s talent—

that gift, buried by illness, now had a world where it could finally bloom.

Without a second thought, Gijun ordered a Real Spirit console.

The machine cost a whopping thirty million won, but he didn’t even hesitate.

‘Please.’

He prayed with all his heart.

‘Let me do this right. Please…’

A week passed, and the console arrived.

In that week, he’d already studied everything he could about the game.

He’d spent the week studying what classes existed and what this game was all about.

With the installation complete, Gijun lay down in the cradle.

A voice brushed against his ears a moment later.

[Connecting to Real Spirit.]

His vision flashed out.

In an instant, his sight flickered and went dark.

[You may now select your Class.]

The message appeared the moment he logged in.

As the text implied, the first order of business was choosing a Class.

Mage.

No need to deliberate.

Gijun selected the Mage Class.

Now for the next step…

It was time to draw his Sub-class.

The Sub-class draw was random.

Even within a single Class, the variety of Sub-classes was staggering.

Once chosen, a Sub-class couldn’t be changed.

To reroll, you had to buy a new Class Draw Card.

I’m not rerolling.

Some people poured tens of millions—even hundreds of millions—into rerolling, but…

Gijun’s wallet wasn’t that fat.

A single reroll cost at least 100,000 won.

That was just the starting price—the next attempt doubled.

100,000 won, 200,000 won, 400,000 won…

Once you start rerolling, you can’t stop reaching for more…

With no steady income, he couldn’t afford to burn money carelessly.

Right now, every breath cost him, with no revenue coming in.

And the purchase of the cradle had already blown a massive hole in his savings.

No guarantee I’d even get something good anyway.

If greed made him drain his account in one reckless moment, that would be the real nightmare.

I’ll just leave it to fate.

As those thoughts crossed his mind, a new message appeared.

[Starting Sub-class draw.]

A single large card materialized before his eyes.

Then it began spinning rapidly.

After about five seconds of whirling, it slowed and finally stopped.

At that moment—

[Real Spirit’s System has answered your earnest wish.]

[The System grants you the Sub-class best suited to you.]

What?

Gijun let out a hollow laugh at the sudden message.

It answered my earnest wish?

That’s one hell of a lip service.

Still, the words made him feel oddly good.

Alright. Let’s see just how good it really is.

[Mage Class – Flame Seeker]

The Sub-class granted to Gijun was the Flame Seeker.

Flame?

A welcome word. A faint smile touched his lips.

For Gijun, flame magic was the most familiar—and the most welcome—word in the world.

1. Oppa — an affectionate term a younger woman uses for an older man she is close to; literally “older brother.”

2. Noona — a term a younger man uses for an older woman he is close to; literally “older sister.”