Rain poured down, leaving the streets wet and slippery. When Sora Takahashi reached his apartment, he shook the water off his umbrella and placed it by the door. His work clothes were soaked and clung to his body. He took a quick shower, changed into clean clothes, and grabbed his suit to put it in the washing machine. That's when he noticed a tear in the fabric.
"…Seriously?"
He stared at it for a moment, then sighed. "I'll fix it later. For now, you're getting washed."
After starting the machine, Sora moved to the kitchen and made a simple dinner—chicken and rice. As he cooked, he hummed softly, his mood slowly improving. He ate quietly, then washed the dishes.
When he checked the time, it was already 8:30 p.m.
So he washed the dishes and ran to his room to see his new $5,000 gaming computer, still in the box. He hugged it. "I MISSED YOU SO MUCH, MY BABY." he shouted.
I saved every bit of money, worked at stores and building sites. I didn't buy new clothes. All to get this computer. Why? because a big update is coming for my favorite game, THE WAR OF THE GUILDS. The game I started when I was 8 years old; now I'm 25. That's 17 years for you.
The thought crossed Sora's mind as he held the box.
Sora stood up and began unpacking the box, carefully setting up the new-model computer. As he worked, his thoughts drifted to how it had all begun.
I can't believe I'm doing all this for a game, but for someone like me—who lost his parents and sister in an incident where a man broke into our house and killed them—I still remember everything vividly.
It was 9 p.m. on a Monday night, just like today.
I was playing hide-and-seek with my sister. I hid in my parents' room. They were smiling at me—I still remember that clearly. My sister was trying to find me, and I could see her frustration. It was cute and funny. I was hiding inside the closet, the door slightly open so I could watch what she was doing.
Then he broke in.
He smashed the front door, but there was no noise at all—so quiet that even the neighbors didn't hear it.
And then I saw everything right in front of my eyes.
He killed them one by one… and then ran away.
I was hiding in the closet, unable to move. My body wouldn't respond. I stayed there for eleven hours, frozen in shock, until a neighbor—who was heading to work—noticed that our door was open. He came inside and saw the three bodies. Since he knew our family, he immediately called the police and started shouting my name, searching for me.
That's when he found me in the closet, completely broken.
After that, I—who had lost everyone—only had my grandma left. She took me in and cared for me. My grandma was strong. She went to the police station every single day, demanding they capture the culprit.
It took the police two years to find that man, but eventually they did. He was arrested and brought to court. My grandma was happy—she believed justice would prevail.
But due to a lack of evidence, the judge had no choice but to release him.
At first, everyone thought he was innocent. Maybe the police had accused the wrong person. Even though I was just a kid, I believed that too.
But I can't forget that motherfucker's smile.
When he passed by me and my grandma, he leaned in and whispered, "It was me."
My grandma—who had already lost her son, her daughter-in-law, and her granddaughter—collapsed to the ground and started crying. I still remember her words:
"I couldn't give justice to my kids."
That day, even as a child, I understood one thing very clearly:
You can do anything in this world as long as you act innocent and don't leave any evidence behind.
After that, I—who was already depressed—fell even deeper. It became so bad that I couldn't even make friends. It wasn't that the other kids bullied me. Actually, it was the opposite—they were kind to me. All of them were.
But I couldn't trust anyone.
Because of that trauma, I always ran away from people.
My grandma, worried about my mental health, even took me to a psychologist, but there was no improvement.
Then one day, she saw a game on TV.
WELCOME TO WAR OF THE GUILDS.
Everyone was buying it—kids, adults, everyone. Seeing that, my grandma thought it might help distract me from those horrible memories.
On my eighth birthday, she gave me two gifts.
One was a computer.
The other was this game.
At first, I didn't want to play it.
But one day, my grandma—who had bought the game for me—started feeling ill. She was always worried about me, and that constant worry only made her condition worse.
I thought that if I played the game and showed her I was enjoying it, she might feel better.
For the first two days, I only played to make her happy. But then… I actually started enjoying it.
I also began reading comics—manhwa, manhua, manga. Little by little, I started to enjoy life again.
My grandma saw the change. She saw me smiling, living, enjoying myself. She finally felt relieved.
Maybe that relief was what helped her recover.
After that, we played the game together. We read together.
And now… here I am, still playing it.
You could say grandma was right.
She passed away two years ago, and this game still reminds me of her. You could say it's closer to me than anything else.
Like I said, the game was one of the biggest hits when it came out—and it still is, growing more popular every day. I think the reason is how much you can do in it.
You can build a guild, recruit NPCs—the stronger they are, the better and easier things become for you. There are countless NPCs with different powers: magic, strength, and more. There are infinite types of them and an endless number overall.
But there's a big catch.
Recruiting them isn't easy.
They ask for all sorts of things, just like real people. Some want money. Some want help. Some want revenge. Sometimes it's fun… and sometimes it's a complete pain in the ass.
Once you recruit four or five NPCs—the minimum required to start a guild, though skilled players can recruit millions—you begin taking control of zones. Just like other games, you build a base, farm resources, defend territory, and expand.
There are kingdoms, dungeons, forests, deserts, and more. So it's no surprise the game is popular.
But for me, the most important thing is the difficulty.
It's equal for everyone.
There's no easy, normal, or hard mode. Everyone plays under the same conditions. Everything depends on your skill—and sometimes, your luck.
The game keeps growing more popular every year.
A year ago, the developer—who has never shown their face or voice and whose identity and location remain completely unknown—announced that development would continue.
Honestly, it's strange. Creating the most popular game for seventeen years and choosing to stay hidden… but everyone has their own reasons.
All that matters to me is that the game will continue—and that I can keep playing.
"Finally, the setup is complete. It really took me ten minutes. Well, time to update the ga—WAIT, WHAT?! WHY IS THE FUCK NEW UPDATE IS FIVE TERABYTES?!" Sora shouted at the screen, slamming his fist onto the desk.
"Well, whatever. I've got the most upgraded rig money can buy. Even if it were ten terabytes, it wouldn't faze me. The real pain is the downloading speed… ahhh, screw it."
Even if the internet speed is top-notch, it's still gonna take time, Sora thought.
He glanced out the window, rain pounding against the glass like a relentless drumbeat. "It looks like it's gonna rain all night," he muttered.
"Not that it matters. It's not like I'm heading out or anything."
And just like that, 15 minutes passed.
Sora was pacing in his room, waiting for the update to complete. He then sat down on his chair and stared at the update bar, inching forward like a snail in molasses. Waiting... always waiting.
"COME ON ALREADY… HURRY UP WITH THE UPDATE! I KNOW IT'S ONLY BEEN FIFTEEN MINUTES AND THE UPDATE IS HUGE, BUT GODDAMN IT— I HAVE A SUPER COMPUTER AND THE FASTEST INTERNET, AND IT STILL FEELS LIKE ETERNITY!" he yelled, leaning in so close his nose almost touched the monitor.
Ding! The update-completion chime rang out, sweet as victory music.
"Finally! About goddamn time," he said with a smirk, cracking his knuckles.
"Huh? What's this?" A small pop-up appeared: Sora Takahashi, are you ready to explore the new world? With two options: Yes or No.
He burst out laughing, clutching his sides. "You know, I've read a ton of those reincarnation stories—getting sucked into manhwas, manhuas, mangas, light novels. This is giving me major vibes."
Then, with a grin, he leaned back. "Well, it's not like that's gonna happen here. But after grinding this game for 17 years... I really wouldn't mind."
"Well, here we go." After saying it, he clicked Yes.
"What the—?!" His vision started glitching, pixels warping around him like a bad lag spike. "OH COME ON, REALLY? NO WAY, AM I ACTUALLY GETTING SUCKED INTO THE GAME?!"
Most people would freak out, panic, scream for help. But Sora? He looked thrilled, eyes wide with excitement. As the glitch pulled him in completely, one last thought flashed through his mind:
So I'm going into War of the Guilds. The first thing I'm gonna do is not become like those crybaby protagonists—yeah, that's a must. After that, I'm gonna build a big guild; that's important. Oh yeah, the first thing will be seeing my status window, and then...
Before he could finish, he got sucked into the game. The time this happened was 9 p.m. on Monday.
And on the screen? It read:
WELCOME TO WAR OF THE GUILDS.
One Year Earlier — Before Sora Was Sucked into the Game
"Hello, control room. This is Police Inspector Mizuhara Kei, badge number A435. We've found a body inside an abandoned warehouse. It was discovered by a rat hunter hired by the locals due to the recent increase in the rat population."
There was something strange about the way the inspector spoke. His voice was calm, yet his expression was tense—worried, and most of all, fearful.
He explained that the rat hunter had been doing his job inside the warehouse when he suddenly stepped on something solid. The floor beneath him collapsed, and he lost consciousness. When he woke up, the first thing he saw was the body.
As the inspector spoke, his eyes repeatedly drifted back to the corpse, unable to hide his fear.
Following protocol, once the body was transferred to the forensic room, the inspector asked quietly,
"So… what do you think, Doctor?"
The doctor stared at the remains for a long moment before answering,
"Was this man hunted by an animal?"
The forensic report that followed was beyond horrifying.
The victim had been tortured for an entire year. His face had been destroyed with chemical substances, making identification impossible. Every nail—fingers and toes alike—had been pulled out. Burn marks covered his body, and patches of skin had been peeled away with a razor. Both Achilles tendons were severed so he couldn't even attempt to escape. His tongue had been cut off, likely to prevent suicide. His teeth were shattered from repeated blows.
A metal rod had been used on his anus. Chemicals were poured onto his testicles and later onto his penis, seemingly done in stages to prolong his suffering. Bruises and fractures were found all over his body—his hands, feet, and ribs bore the marks of continuous abuse.
In the end, he didn't die from the torture itself.
He died from dehydration. He hadn't been given food or water for at least four to five days.
When the details were released, the entire country was shaken. News channels ran the story nonstop. People demanded justice. The police launched a full investigation, but the crime scene was unnervingly clean—there were no fingerprints, no DNA, no clues of any kind.
The only thing they could confirm was the identity of the victim.
It was the same man who had ruined Sora Takahashi's life.
As the investigation continued, the police uncovered an even darker truth. The man had been involved in countless crimes—child rape, assault, and multiple murders. Yet every case ended the same way. A lack of evidence. No conviction. No punishment.
He was always set free.
Now, he was dead.
And for the people who had suffered because of him, there was no sorrow. No sympathy.
They called the one who killed him a hero.
After a full year of investigation and with no solid evidence, the police were forced to close the case. The culprit was never found.
The strange coincidence was that the case was officially closed at 9 p.m. on a Monday.