Chapter 1: The pretty girl whose life was ruined(1)
I’ve seen that kind of meme before.
My life is truly screwed. To be specific, it got screwed at 9 a.m. today. The reason? Arksha Online’s massive new update.
“Guys, this ain’t it. This really ain’t it. I’m a huge fan, you know that, but this time it feels like my head’s about to explode.”
The streamer’s voice, blasting through my speakers to gauge the update’s reception, is pretty heated. This is one of the top corporate streamers in the Arksha Online scene, and even they’re saying it straight up.
The community’s reaction isn’t much different.
‘Annual revenue 7 trillion game update class.jpg’
‘If you think Jiyoung’s head exploded like Yumi’s, smash that like button lololol’
‘(Long post) 7-year veteran explaining why this patch is legit fcked’
‘I’m done, peace out’
‘Rescue ship’s here lololol’
Among them, I spot a post from a big-name user who’s usually just cozying up with their clique. I click on that one first.
Title: If you think Jiyoung’s head exploded like Yumi’s, smash that like button lololol
Content: Starting with me lol
The meme is from last year’s live show, Jiyoung making some grand announcement. A director, supposedly, dressed in luxury brands.
Below, there’s a subtitle with Jiyoung’s “actual quote (lol)”:
“I’ll create an RPG where you can feel the joy of growth.”
I think back to today’s update. Jiyoung’s head must’ve really exploded, just like Yumi’s. No, seriously.
What the fck, Wild Forge’s Coram? Your company’s revenue is what’s feeling the joy of growth, huh? After months of no updates, you said you’d patch in the first half of this year, and now it’s May, and this is what you churn out? Balance is shot to hell, bugs unfixed for a year, and this is really all you’ve got?
You said too much homework feels overwhelming, so you’d make it feel less like a chore, but what we got is a daily quest that’s practically a knife to the throat. The new world is just a patchwork of old ones. The new dungeon’s engravings? If you don’t pour in cash, you’re not even beating the trash mobs, let alone the boss. Your head’s getting crushed. And the design? The lore? Instead of feeling epic, it flips the entire world’s established rules, makes some ultimate powerhouse, and it looks like a damn troll with three heads slapped on.
My trembling, rage-filled fingers struggle to type a comment.
Like… this…
Games can flop, sure. It’s not like this one’s completely dead. One bad patch doesn’t tank a thriving game overnight.
But even if the game’s fine, my life feels genuinely screwed.
‘(Urgent)(Trusted) Pure farmed silver 1:7000, up to 80 billion available / 5 billion minimum, split OK’
Checking the cash trading site, the market’s crashed. That 1:7000 rate is from a trusted pro trader; the average is probably around 6500.
Three hours after the patch, and it’s already this bad. By tonight, it’ll probably drop more. This isn’t a panic sell; it’s an earnings shock. A rebound might come, but… it won’t even hit the current rate, will it?
Rage bubbles up again. If this keeps up, I won’t make next month’s credit card payment. Honestly, I’ve got more right to be pissed than anyone.
Streamers? They’ll pull four-digit viewers no matter what game they play.
Big-name users? That jerk’s a trust-fund kid. Posting bait memes isn’t their day job.
Pro traders? Don’t even get me started. They hop between RPGs, profiting off market gaps. This loss is nothing compared to what they’ve already made.
Me, though? I’m truly screwed.
My monthly income is about a million won. Sounds decent for gaming money, but as my only income source, it’s not much.
With the market crashing like this, I’m in real trouble.
Especially since I’ve got a ton of expenses coming up.
Ding-dong.
The doorbell rings. It’s the delivery I ordered earlier.
Ding-dong.
I checked the “leave at door” option, didn’t I?
Ding-dong, ding-dong.
“Leave it at the door, please!”
I raise my voice, and the ringing finally stops. On the grainy intercom screen, I catch the delivery guy’s back as he leaves.
I start to open the door but freeze. The motion-sensor light by the shoe rack lights up, reflecting my face in the mirror.
A wave of awkwardness hits me.
Yeah, a woman’s body.
It’s been almost a week since I turned into this, and I’m still not used to it. My pursed lips betray my thoughts.
The annoyingly perfect features make even my angry expression look cute. Like a character drawn in a comic. My face alone screams “not normal.”
I’m not tall, but my face is tiny. A quick glance in the mirror suggests I’m about an eight-head proportion.
My body’s delicate, fragile. The arms peeking out from my loose T-shirt are like chopsticks. My legs aren’t much different. The only saving grace is my decent skin, so I don’t look too shabby.
And yet, my chest is pretty big. After struggling to measure it using some method I found on a wiki, it’s a 60E. But online shops don’t carry that size, so after ten minutes of web surfing, I figured a 65D would probably fit.
Sure, there are people with similar body types out there, but the real issue is something else.
I stare at the darkened mirror. The room’s fluorescent light is dim, not pitch-black. My strikingly vivid eyes glare back, green as emeralds.
Even more striking is my hair. Silver. It flows past my shoulders, shimmering faintly. Not like bleached silver—this is a radiant, almost translucent silver that scatters light in every direction.
There’s no way I can meet anyone looking like this.
I stand there, dazed, in front of the mirror for a while. I remember raising my voice earlier.
The delivery guy might’ve taken it as me snapping at him. My rundown apartment is on the fourth floor of a building with no elevator, just steep, endless stairs.
Did I hear footsteps going down? Hard to say. I heard something, but it might not be footsteps.
What if the delivery guy didn’t leave? What if he’s just waiting for me to open the door? My irritated “leave it” could’ve pissed him off. Maybe not, but maybe.
My body trembles.
I know this could be paranoia. Changing bodies didn’t make me dumb.
Rationally, the odds of the delivery guy retaliating are slim. I didn’t curse him out; I just said to leave it. A totally normal request. Something anyone would say without a second thought.
No, if anyone’s got a right to be mad, it’s me. I definitely checked the “leave at door” box. So why’d he keep ringing the bell?
Is there another reason? Maybe he’s just pissed. So pissed he’s looking for someone to beat up or stab.
Or maybe he’s a robber? That makes sense.
Delivery’s often seen as a dead-end job, far from a cushy office gig. If I opened the door, he could’ve cleaned me out.
Or, god forbid, a rapist? The thought I tried to avoid surges up, and my blood freezes. Maybe he rang the bell to hear my voice, to confirm.
Maybe not, but maybe.
I spend a good ten minutes like this.
Hunger finally wins, and I cautiously open the door. I don’t even poke my head out, just listen. Dead silence.
I muster the courage to look outside. Nothing but stillness.
I grab the tteokbokki, shut the door, and collapse into my chair in front of the computer. With what little strength I have, I tear open the packaging.
“Hello, this is ArkBox. We’ve analyzed the massive Arksha Online update faster than anyone.”
The YouTube video I play while eating dives right into trashing the update. I nod along, shoving tteokbokki in my mouth. It’s delicious.
“Not to mention, they didn’t even keep their promises with the PVP content. Director Jiyoung Lee, earlier this year, via the official website…”
My stomach’s getting full, but the video’s still got a ways to go. With the game in shambles, maybe they’re hoping to milk one last big hit with this video.
I don’t even clean up my food and focus on the video. I’ve read the patch notes, but YouTube and community analyses always make things clearer.
“And finally, the most divisive change of all: the combat power patch.”
Huh?
“There’s now a ‘combat power restriction’ that blocks players below a certain combat power from entering dungeons.”
What?
“The stated goal is to ‘help players choose dungeons suited to their growth level,’ but it’s really just a way to stop so-called ‘carry’ or ‘bus’ runs.”
I thought my life was screwed.
Turns out, it’s not just screwed—it’s utterly, completely fcked.