Director: Goyo, there’s a coaching position open. Come whenever you want.

SGY: Player-nim, this is Day News Sagongyeon. Would it be possible to schedule an interview...

I turned on my phone to check the time and saw unread message notifications staring back at me.

It’s been ages since I retired as a pro gamer, and they’re still calling me "Player-nim."

The director should’ve given up by now, but the messages kept coming, persistent as ever.

I looked down at my hand for a moment.

Four years after the accident, it looked perfectly fine on the outside — no issues with daily life either.

It just couldn’t do pro gaming anymore.

With practiced ease, I flicked past the notifications and left only the live stream push alerts.

It was almost time for my favorite M-Tuber’s broadcast. I didn’t have time to waste on message notifications I wasn’t going to read anyway.

I booted up my computer, connected to the livestream, and dropped a donation right away.

My nickname and donation message appeared in large letters across the chat window.

The M-Tuber beamed and called out to me.

"Roasted Chestnut-nim! Welcome!"

[Roasted Chestnut: Hello]

My greeting was immediately buried under a flood of chat from the fervent viewers.

[PLEASESAVEMEPLEASEGETMEOUTICANTBEATTHIS]

[I CANT DO THIS ANYMORE HEHEHEHHEHEHEHEHEHE]

[IMSORRYIMSORRYIMSORRYIMSORRY]

[IMDYINGITSHURTSHURTSHURTS]

[THEENDINGHOWTHEENDINGPLEASETHEENDING]

The M-Tuber I loved didn’t have many viewers.

Barely a few dozen people, but they were all loyal regulars — the chat was way more active than other streams of this size.

Another strange thing: in most small streams, viewers tended to socialize with each other, but here, nobody cared about anyone else.

They were all too busy demanding what they wanted from the M-Tuber.

Which I actually liked. No unwanted attention meant I could relax.

"I was just waiting for you, Roasted Chestnut-nim."

[Roasted Chestnut: I was waiting for the stream too.]

And more than anything, I genuinely liked this M-Tuber.

I smiled, a little embarrassed, and sent the message.

I’d debuted as a pro gamer at nineteen, built a decent career, and retired.

It was a forced retirement because of the accident, and becoming unemployed overnight was incredibly boring.

So I looked for something to kill the boredom and ended up gaming.

I dove into all kinds of online games, then moved on to packaged games — AAA titles, indie games, I devoured everything without discrimination.

That’s how I discovered an indie game that fit my tastes perfectly.

I stayed up two nights straight to see every ending, and naturally searched for the creator’s other games.

Which led me to stumble onto the creator’s livestream.

That was two years ago.

Becoming a regular viewer of the creator, I got to enjoy a huge privilege: testing games in development.

Since they were a solo developer, everything was pixel-art indie games.

But the creative settings and stories made them more immersive than any other game I’d played.

The genres were diverse — never any overlap — and all the games were even connected within a single, massive world.

The so-called Archive world.

For two years, I’d test-play the games the creator handed me and spent a wonderful time inside their world.

I typed into the chat, wondering what kind of game they’d made this time.

[Roasted Chestnut: The last game you gave me was really fun.]

"I knew you’d get the true ending, Roasted Chestnut-nim."

How did they know I’d cleared the true ending?

I blinked for a moment.

But they knew I’d stayed up all night to see every ending for every game they’d given me, so it wasn’t that strange.

I shook off the confusion and asked.

[Roasted Chestnut: What kind of game is it today?]

The M-Tuber plucked my message out of the frantic flood of viewer chat and grinned.

"Hmm, no game today."

Then they suddenly leaned their face close to the camera.

Their face filled the screen, and I instinctively leaned back.

The M-Tuber’s eyes glistened under the lighting as they whispered.

"And there won’t be any from nooow on."

My heart plummeted.

"No game?"

For someone like me, who’d enjoyed all kinds of games thanks to this M-Tuber, it was like a bolt from the blue.

Unlike me, frozen in shock, the M-Tuber seemed strangely excited today.

Like they’d just won the lottery or something.

[NOGAME? NOGAME? ICANLEAVE? LETMEOUT?]

[IWANTTOGOOUTIMSORRYPLEASESAVEME]

[Already over? Boring.]

[FINALLYFINALLYDIEDIEDIEDIE]

The viewers’ chat went into overdrive at the M-Tuber’s bombshell.

I barely managed to move my fingers through the torrent of messages.

[Roasted Chestnut: That’s a shame... Can I ask why?]

"Because it’s over now."

The M-Tuber’s voice sounded completely carefree.

"Thanks for everything. It’s all thanks to you, Roasted Chestnut-nim."

Were they saying they were quitting streaming entirely?

Would they keep making games? Or stop that too...?

It was common for solo developers to quit for various reasons.

But it was such a waste. They were a creator with genius talent.

Just look at how much the viewers of this stream loved their games.

Can’t they just release a few as early access or something?

Knowing they already had several highly polished games, I bit my lip.

I started typing a message to ask for details, then stopped.

It couldn’t be, but I felt like the M-Tuber on the other side of the screen was looking right at me.

The M-Tuber stared straight into the camera and stretched their lips into a wide, sideways smile.

At that moment, a hot sensation burst from my nose — a nosebleed.

"Ghk..."

My eyeballs burned and a throbbing headache split my skull.

Was it from staying up all night and then watching the stream right after?

I got up to find a tissue, and a voice came through.

"Roasted Chestnut-nim is the best viewer I’ve ever met. If it’s you, you can do it. Because I found you, and I confirmed it."

I finally found a tissue, plugged my nose, and looked back at the screen.

The M-Tuber was still staring straight into the camera.

"From now on, I’ll be your viewer, Roasted Chestnut-nim."

Nothing they’d said since earlier made any sense. I pressed my nose and typed with one hand.

[Roasted Chestnut: I don’t understand what you mean.]

"I can’t wait. I’ve been waiting for so long. So, so, so, so long."

By this point, I couldn’t ignore that something was seriously wrong with the M-Tuber.

They didn’t seem drunk. Please don’t tell me it was drugs...?

As a long-time viewer, I was about to type that they should end the stream when —

"Well then, shall we begin?"

He said my name.

"Han Goyo."

A name I’d never once told him.

I opened my mouth to say "huh," and the entire world twisted.

The perfectly normal studio apartment that had been there just a moment ago warped, melting and crumpling as it stained into splotchy fluorescent colors.

A cheerful chime rang out, and a system window appeared before my eyes.

Player ’Han Goyo’ announces their name to Akasha!

Current recognition: 0.01%

System windows with incomprehensible content surged up, blocking my view.

I read the very last system window and lost consciousness.

You are the System of planet ’Earth’.

A string sound echoed through an old speaker.

I frowned at the grating noise that kept mixing in between the long, drawn-out notes.

Groaning, I opened my eyes.

The sight before me was unlike anything I’d ever seen.

A kaleidoscope of colorful interior design. A wall mural with a huge, cute character. Toy package boxes stacked as high as a Christmas tree.

No matter how I looked at it, this place was a world away from my studio apartment.

It looked like some kind of toy factory.

I pressed my temples — the headache was still faintly there — and scanned my surroundings again.

A signboard with round, friendly typography hung overhead.

The letters were very familiar. I couldn’t believe my eyes, so I read them out loud.

"<Happy Smile Factory>...?"

I quickly looked back at the character wall mural I’d glimpsed earlier.

Welcome to the Happy Smile Factory!

We are your toy friends who will make you happy!

Shout it together! Happy Smile!

Children’s toys with cute slogans beamed with happy smiles.

Cold sweat soaked the back of my neck.

Because <Happy Smile Factory> was...

...a game made by my favorite creator.

Had the creator kidnapped me and locked me in a place that looked like their game?

It was the most plausible theory I could come up with, but it made no sense.

Who would kidnap a retired pro gamer — an unemployed nobody? The most pointless crime in the world.

I stood frozen in the surreal situation, then slowly got up from the floor.

"...Wow."

I stopped mid-motion and let out a hollow laugh at what I was wearing.

I was in a <Happy Smile Factory> uniform.

The bright green work clothes had a name tag with the Happy Smile logo on the chest.

Employee: Roasted Chestnut

I scraped at the embroidered name tag with my finger, but it was sewn on tight — wouldn’t come off.

I checked my pockets for anything useful, but they were empty except for dust.

There was a flashlight pouch hanging from my belt, though.

Exactly the same start as the game’s intro.

"This is insane."

The curse slipped out on its own. I dragged my hand down my face.

<Happy Smile Factory> was the first game of the creator’s that I’d ever played.

The player wakes up in a toy factory, searches for lost memories and the factory’s hidden secrets, and escapes.

The problem was the toys.

The toys here hate adults. They try to eliminate any adult who trespasses into the factory — i.e., the player.

So if this situation plays out like <Happy Smile Factory>...

I had to avoid murderous toys and escape the factory.

If there was a lunatic crazy enough to set up a factory this size, they’d probably also prepared murderers wearing toy masks.

What should I do?

I tried to abandon common sense and think like a lunatic.

First, I figured I might as well treat it like playing the game.

Since according to the game, the goal was to escape the factory.

I moved cautiously, crossing the lobby. Just as I was about to enter the interior —

CRASH!

A massive explosion erupted from deep inside the factory.

Are the toys already moving?

If so, staying out here wasn’t going to help.

I vaulted over the turnstile gate and ran inside.

Dust billowed up, obscuring my vision. I was covering my nose with my sleeve, looking for somewhere to hide, when —

Suddenly, my throat was squeezed tight and my body lifted off the ground.

"Gack!"

The hard plastic against my windpipe choked me — I struggled for a moment, then they dropped me to the floor.

A flustered voice spoke.

"What the — a civilian?"

The dust cleared, and I could see who’d been choking me.

A short-haired woman with a small build and sharp features. She was beautiful.

Beside her stood a man in the same work uniform.

Our eyes met, and a rectangular system window appeared.

You have discovered ’Mo Haein’!

’Mo Haein’ is a registrable character. Would you like to register?