Chapter 1 Departure

Chapter 1 Departure

When he lost consciousness within the Game and opened his eyes again, the World had become Reality.

“I’m quitting soon.”

Namgung-woo couldn’t immediately grasp the meaning of what he’d just heard.

Namgung-woo stared blankly for a moment, replaying the words in his mind. He then looked at the person before him, as if to confirm that they had truly uttered those words.

The other person, sensing the intent in Namgung-woo’s gaze, offered a bitter smile, admitting their own regret.

“I’m sorry.”

“Oh, no. It’s… it’s understandable.”

Though he said it was fine, anyone could see Namgung-woo’s disappointment.

“We’ve been at it for a long time, after all.”

Quitting.

In the Game, that word meant to stop playing.

Chullok Murim.

It was a Game with a considerable history, dating back to the very early days when Virtual Reality became widespread, and various concept Games rapidly appeared and disappeared.

As its name suggested, Chullok Murim, based on a Martial World setting, was highly acclaimed upon its launch for its sensational Open World and detailed Martial Arts implementation. However, five years later, it had long since devolved into an outdated Game.

So, quitting wasn’t particularly strange. Even if it wasn’t Chullok Murim, there were now many other Virtual Reality Games set in the Martial World.

Yet, the fact that she had remained until now suggested she wasn’t quitting for such a reason. If that were the case, she would have left long ago.

Namgung-woo asked, a hint of lingering hope in his voice.

“But Mae, why are you quitting?”

Namgung-woo posed the question with a faint glimmer of hope, thinking he might be able to hold onto her if there was any way he could help. But the reply shattered that expectation.

“I’m going to study abroad. In Australia.”

“Ah…”

“I could still log in there, but… I want to focus on my studies seriously.”

With that, he couldn’t bring himself to say anything more.

Namgung-woo felt a sigh welling up from his heavy heart.

Many acquaintances Namgung-woo had known had quit the Game and left over the years, but this time, it was particularly painful.

Every single acquaintance in the Game was a precious connection to Namgung-woo. Some might dismiss them as mere Game contacts whose real names and faces he didn’t even know. But Namgung-woo didn’t see them as any different from his friends in Reality.

And among them, Mae was even more special.

Namgung-woo was a latecomer.

He was a latecomer who started Chullok Murim about three years after the Game’s launch, when the Cultivation Realm had already opened up to Peak Transcendence.

Due to poor management, new players were dwindling, and even existing users were leaving one by one. As a new user, Namgung-woo found it difficult to adapt.

It was she who helped Namgung-woo then.

Approaching him because they shared the Namgung surname in their nicknames, she kindly taught him everything about Chullok Murim.

From where to hunt for faster growth, which events were efficient, which items were good, and what synergistic effects different Martial Arts offered—over ninety percent of Namgung-woo’s knowledge of Chullok Murim came from Namgung Mae.

Their relationship didn’t end with just a brief help in the early days.

Namgung-woo grew rapidly with her help, and since Namgung Mae preferred to enjoy the Game at a leisurely pace, their Cultivation Realms soon became similar.

After that, the two became inseparable. Even within the ‘Namgung Clan,’ a group formed by users with ‘Namgung’ in their nicknames, they were exceptionally close.

Every Dungeon time attack they attempted together, the dawns spent conversing while admiring beautiful scenery, the Sparring Matches where she mercilessly beat the inexperienced Namgung-woo to teach him how to fight… all remained cherished and nostalgic memories.

Namgung-woo’s rise to become one of Chullok Murim’s top-ranked players, despite being a latecomer, was entirely to repay Namgung Mae for her help. To him, Namgung Mae was the driving force and very reason for playing Chullok Murim.

Thinking of a Chullok Murim without Namgung Mae, a corner of Namgung-woo’s heart ached.

“I’ll be lonely.”

But he couldn’t hold her back.

It would be too selfish to keep Namgung Mae, who was striving for her dreams in Reality, just for his own enjoyment.

Perhaps Namgung-woo looked too pathetic.

Namgung Mae offered a bitter smile and spoke soothingly.

“Hmm… it might even be over in a year, at the earliest.”

“A year?”

Namgung-woo knew her age. If she was going to study abroad, it would likely be a master’s program. Could it really be done in a year?

“Overseas programs sometimes finish faster than in our country. It might take two years at the latest, but they say it’s usually done in about a year and a half.”

“Ah, I see.”

“By then, I’ll really be riding your ‘bus,’ Woo.”

“I’m already a ‘bus’ now, though.”

“Oh, come on. In a year, you’ll probably have reached the Profound Realm.”

“Whenever you come back, I’ll carry you. You will come back, right?”

“Pfft, what if you quit before I do, Woo?”

“Who knows? Unless the service ends?”

“Ah… I really think the service might end.”

Namgung Mae spoke with genuine anxiety.

Even now, with concurrent player numbers plummeting, large-scale Raids had become an impossible dream.

In Namgung-woo’s time, it wasn’t uncommon for beginners to grow with the help of Masters, as many veteran players were leveling up alternate characters. But now, even those veterans were leaving, and beginners were quitting the Game before they could even properly start, a harsh Reality.

“Still, it should last another year, somehow. There’s still a lot of unreleased content.”

“Right?”

“Don’t worry about me. I’m the Clan Head, after all, and I’ll wait here until the service ends.”

He meant it.

If he hadn’t met Namgung Mae, Namgung-woo wouldn’t have played Chullok Murim so diligently all this time.

Feeling a bit embarrassed by his own words, Namgung-woo quickly changed the subject.

“By the way, have you talked to Pung yet?”

While Namgung-woo and Namgung Mae were closest, the three of them—including Namgung Pung—had spent far more time together. They were quite famous as the ‘Namgung Sam-myeong,’ but that was now a story of the past.

“Hmm… I’m planning to say my final goodbyes when they said they’d be on next week. It might be a bit sudden, but that’s Pung’s fault for not logging in often.”

Namgung Mae tried to lighten the solemn mood with a joke, the kind only close friends could share.

Seeing Namgung Mae, Namgung-woo couldn’t remain dejected any longer.

“Then, since this is our last time, how about we go on a tour?”

“Oh! I’d love that!”

After Namgung Mae left, saying she had things to do for her study abroad preparations.

Left alone, Namgung-woo silently pondered, with the empty Namgung Clan management window displayed before him.

【Namgung Clan】

─Online

○Namgung-woo [Clan Head]

─Offline

●Namgung Mae [Elder]

●Namgung Pung [Elder]

●Namgung, How Did You Do That? [Grand Elder]

●Why No Bow for Namgung? [Direct Descendant]

●Namgung Cheol [Elder]

●Namgung, My Gay Bro [Direct Descendant]

“The Game’s really dead, isn’t it?”

Namgung-woo muttered in exasperation at the Reality that he was the only online member in a Sect that could hold 50 people.

It was clear at a glance why Namgung-woo had taken on the role of Sect Leader of the Namgung Clan, a position known as Clan Head within the Namgung Clan.

“Should I run the Primordial Tower?”

The Primordial Tower.

It was a common end-game content for achievement hunting.

The Primordial Tower, armed with ridiculously powerful monsters and designed to challenge players to see how many floors they could clear, was so difficult that no one had yet breached the tenth floor.

Namgung-woo himself had only reached the ninth floor.

But now, he somehow felt as if he could clear the ninth floor and step onto the tenth.

If he reached the tenth floor, a place no one had ever touched, Namgung Mae would surely be amazed. He decided to give her the gift of an unknown realm in Chullok Murim, a secret no one else knew.

As he thought this, his gloomy mood seemed to regain a bit of vigor.

It was said that if one thought of something, one should act. Namgung-woo, embodying the spirit of Unity of Knowledge and Action, immediately put his thoughts into practice.

‘Anyway, buffs and elixirs don’t work in the Primordial Tower, so I’ll just go straight in.’

The Primordial Tower was a special map accessible from any village, provided one had an entry ticket. Namgung-woo immediately used his ticket and began his ascent.

As he cleared each floor of the Primordial Tower, filled with various enemies like Demon/spirits, Demonic Beasts, and former Masters, the vague sensation Namgung-woo felt gradually transformed into certainty.

Today was different. Perhaps it was because his sense of purpose was stronger than ever. He truly felt he could conquer the ninth floor of the Primordial Tower, a feat no one in Chullok Murim had ever accomplished.

The moment he defeated Blood Sovereign, the ruler of the ninth floor, Namgung-woo, filled with unparalleled elation, immediately rushed up to the tenth floor.

And the instant Namgung-woo’s feet finally touched the untrodden tenth floor.

A voice, resonating not in his ears but in his very Soul, shook Namgung-woo’s consciousness.

[Finally.]

Strange.

Even in Chullok Murim, mysterious methods of voice transmission existed, such as Sound Transmission into Secrecy and Wisdom Light Heart Language. Yet, ultimately, they could not transcend the limits of hearing.

But the voice Namgung-woo was hearing now truly transcended that.

[The Inheritor has arrived.]

Immediately after sensing the anomaly, Namgung-woo’s consciousness was dyed black.

Within his blurring, sinking consciousness.

The last thought Namgung-woo had was truly consistent.

I have to go see her off…