The morning sun peeked through the thin curtains, casting golden streaks over Kang Eunseo's room. For once, sleep had come easily. He didn't toss or turn. No nightmares. No strange voices or flickering lights. He slept like a baby, snug under his sheets, the faint hum of the fan lulling him deeper into peaceful dreams.
When his alarm buzzed at 7:00 a.m., he opened his eyes immediately. No hesitation. No groggy blinks. Just a calm, clear mind and the familiar sight of his room: neatly arranged bookshelves, a sketchpad on the desk, and a sleepy poster of a mountain landscape that had been up since he was twelve.
"Back to normal," he mumbled, brushing a hand through his messy navy-blue hair. He blinked at the ceiling, half-expecting a digital countdown or glowing blue system panel.
Nothing.
Relieved, he smiled faintly and got up, stretching. The day had only begun, and already, it felt like last night was just a dream.
Eunseo slipped into his house slippers and padded quietly into the kitchen. It was a Saturday. That meant he had a little more time before school, which also meant he could make breakfast for his mom—Kang Yuna.
She was still asleep in her room. He glanced at the clock. 7:12 a.m.
Plenty of time.
He tied on an apron, took out the ingredients—eggs, rice, kimchi, sesame oil—and started cooking with practiced ease. He wasn't a master chef, but he'd done this many times before. The kitchen quickly filled with the warm, spicy aroma of fried rice. As he plated the food, he added a fried egg on top of each serving, just the way his mom liked it.
She shuffled into the kitchen a few minutes later, yawning and still in her robe.
"You're up early," she said with a smile.
"I wanted to cook today," he replied.
Yuna ruffled his hair as she sat down. "What did I do to deserve such a perfect son?"
He chuckled and sat across from her. "Don't get used to it."
They shared breakfast in comfortable silence, interrupted only by soft chewing and the occasional clink of chopsticks.
Afterward, Eunseo cleaned the dishes while humming to himself, then got ready for school. His uniform felt a little tighter around the shoulders, probably from stress. Or maybe he was just imagining things after what happened the night before.
He slipped his phone into his bag and headed out.
---
His school wasn't too far, and he liked walking. The breeze helped him think, and today, his mind was busy. Not with math problems or chemistry formulas—but with glowing systems, countdowns, and that surreal world of mana and metal.
Was it real?
"Yo! Eunseo!"
He looked up to see his friend running toward him—Jin Minjae.
Minjae was the opposite of Eunseo in every way. Shorter, louder, wild black curls that looked like he electrocuted himself every morning. A huge gamer. Always ranting about lore, glitches, game mechanics. A perfect person to ask about last night.
"Minjae," Eunseo called.
They bumped fists and walked into the school courtyard together.
"Dude, I had the weirdest dream last night," Eunseo said casually.
"Oh?" Minjae's eyes lit up. "Aliens? Time travel? Zombie girlfriend?"
Eunseo laughed. "Something like... a game. Imagine this: you get transported into a fantasy world every time you sleep. You get missions. You even get powers. But if you fail, you get punished. Like, real punishments."
Minjae's jaw dropped. "That's literally the plot of half my library. But wait—what kind of punishment?"
"Physical. Like, running laps. Fighting monsters. That kind of stuff."
Minjae narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Are you writing a novel? Or... are you living one?"
Eunseo smiled faintly but didn't answer.
"Well," Minjae continued, "if it's a game-world system thing, then you gotta treat it like a game. First step? Train your stats. Endurance, strength, stamina. All of it. And don't trust NPCs too easily. Sometimes they betray you. Classic twist."
"I'll keep that in mind."
Classes passed like a blur. Eunseo barely registered the whiteboard, the teacher's voice, or even his own notes. His brain was too busy replaying Minjae's advice.
When the final bell rang, another friend caught up with him—Park Jinho.
Jinho was the gym rat of their friend group. Built like a tank, always in sleeveless shirts, drinking protein shakes like water.
"Yo," Jinho grinned. "You're free today?"
"Yeah."
"Come to the gym with me. I'll show you the ropes. You need some muscle, bro."
"Sure."
They headed to a nearby gym. Eunseo had never been. It smelled like sweat and determination. He followed Jinho through warm-ups, cardio, weight training—nothing too crazy, but enough to feel the burn.
As they exited, Eunseo wiped sweat from his brow and noticed a girl passing by.
She looked... intense. White hoodie, black leggings, long dark hair in a braid. Her gaze locked with his for a brief second.
And something in him jolted.
He didn't know her. But something felt familiar. Or maybe dangerous.
What he didn't know: she was the top-ranked player. And she saw something in his aura that made her slow down.
But neither of them spoke. Just a moment. Then it passed.
---
At home, Eunseo reviewed the physical training list from the system.
"10 push-ups, 15 squats, 20 jumping jacks, 5-minute sprint."
He repeated the circuit twice in his room. It was rough. His legs burned, his arms ached, but he pushed through.
Dinner was kimchi stew. Yuna cooked this time. He helped clean up, humming a bit as he washed dishes.
Afterward, he went to his room, pulled out his homework, and tried to focus. He got through half his math assignment before his eyes kept darting to the digital clock on his desk.
9:35 PM.
He packed a small bag: athletic wear, gloves, a bottle of water, a protein bar. He wore sweatproof clothes, joggers, and a black hoodie.
He was ready.
9:59 PM.
The countdown appeared.
00:00:59
He stood in the center of his room, breathing deeply.
00:00:15
"Here we go again," he whispered.
00:00:00
The world flickered.
And he was gone.