“I think true gamers are quite rare in this day and age.”

“…What in the world are you talking about?”

“Hmm, just keep your mouth shut and listen to me first. Every time I see these kids flaunting their so-called ‘games,’ it makes my stomach turn.”

With that, Seol Hajin gulped down the soju in front of him.

“In my view, games are one of the art forms. They can touch people deeply with elements like story, gameplay mechanics, level design, convenience, and the lingering emotions after the ending. When you look at them this way, there isn’t much difference between movies and games.”

“So, what’s the point?”

“What I mean is that, from a true ‘gamer’s’ perspective, those five people huddled together in a PC room, screaming about how you shot them in CS, or those who toss hundreds of thousands into a mobile game just to get a sliver of data, don’t qualify to call themselves gamers. Regardless of everything else, those kinds of games lack any lingering impact, emotions, and ultimately, happiness.”

“Wow, quite philosophical of you. So, what kind of amazing game do you play that allows you to criticize the general public like this?”

“I don’t handle low-quality games, at least.”

Seol Hajin began to shake his soju glass back and forth, adopting an air of superiority.

“Hyunseong, what is a game? If we strip away all the flowery language and look at its essence, isn’t it supposed to provide a sense of stability away from the chaotic daily life, even if just for a moment? But nowadays, there’s no morality in games. They might be fun for a fleeting moment, but in the end, they leave you with nothing.”

“Jin-ah, I may not know much, but I do know one thing.”

“What is it?”

“It’s that no one wants to come near us because you’re talking nonsense.”

As he said this, Lee Hyunseong lifted his chin and glanced around the room.

The interior of the pub was quite spacious and lavish, buzzing with the lively chatter of patrons. Even at the adjacent table, four to five men and women were happily chatting away. Sadly, there was only one table occupied by Seol Hajin and Lee Hyunseong, where two dull men sat nursing their drinks.

“After being discharged, I thought I’d enjoy the orientation meeting, but here I am, stuck with this idiot, listening to useless drivel while clinking glasses.”

“That’s what I should be saying, you fool.”

As the two exchanged warm banter, they suddenly made eye contact with a woman from the opposite table, who had been toasting with her friends.

The unfortunate woman, who accidentally locked eyes with them, smiled brightly and approached their table, holding a glass in one hand.

“Hello, seniors. Are you enjoying the orientation meeting?”

Despite the presence of a woman at their previously dismal table, neither of their expressions changed. They knew very well why she had chosen to join the table occupied by the two awkward men, who were shunned by everyone else.

“You really don’t have to bother with us. We know you’re busy representing your class, Ji-eun.”

Indeed, the only reason she had come over to this table, which everyone else avoided, was purely because she was responsible for leading the sophomore class this semester.

For reference, it was also she who had invited the two socially awkward individuals to this orientation meeting. Had she not reached out to them through her contact list, they wouldn’t even have known that this drinking session was taking place today.

‘Maybe by now, she’s regretting inviting us.’

Perhaps she had simply called on them out of pity or merely out of courtesy, and now she might be feeling awkward for having invited them since they inadvertently agreed to join.

Ugh… why did they even ask us to come to the orientation? It’s ruining the mood for drinking. I feel like there’s a strange smell coming from them. Is that smell going to stick to us?
“I didn’t know they’d actually come just because I casually suggested it while feeling a bit sorry for them sitting there like losers. I thought they’d just decline if they had any sense. I never imagined they could be this shameless.”

“So annoying. Hey, why don’t we ask if they can go home early and we’ll cover their taxi fare? They’re not even talking to us, so it wouldn’t matter if they leave a little early.”

“Should we? Honestly, it’s a bit bothersome for us to be sitting here as a pair, too.”

“You’re the class representative, so you should say something. I really don’t want to talk to those people.”

“Yeah, but you’re the one who’s close with your boyfriend, so you should do it.”

“No, he’s your boyfriend.”

“Then let’s settle this fairly with rock-paper-scissors. Loser has to talk to those people!”

…Of course, they might have been having this kind of conversation while trying to remain unnoticed. Well, it’s 99% certain they were; after all, his instincts, honed over twelve years through elementary, middle, and high school, were ringing alarm bells.

Just like a gazelle surviving in the savannah, which reacts sensitively to every type of predator it encounters, every fiber of instinct told him that the woman before him was a deep-rooted insider, different from him in more ways than one.

“By the way, what were you all talking about that seemed so interesting? I overheard something about games over there.”

Seeing Lee Ji-eun, who asked this question with a dimpled smile, Seol Hajin and Lee Hyunseong exchanged glances for a moment.

If they had been completely oblivious, they might have been impressed that a woman with such a pleasant face was bringing up ‘games’ as a topic to engage with them.

Huh? There’s quite a distance between this table and the other one; were they really eavesdropping on our conversation about games? But didn’t insiders generally have little interest in games?

Could it be that she, despite being an insider, secretly had a hobby related to gaming? And did she come over just to talk about games?

Ah, I see. She actually belongs to the type of girl I can chat easily with. So, maybe it’s okay to expect a good atmosphere today? Could it be that this vibe carries on until tomorrow, ultimately leading us to build a good relationship?

Wait, what if this leads to us dating? Would that mean tomorrow would be our first day as a couple? Could we even end up getting married? If so, how many kids should we have? I’d like to have enough for a baseball team, but would she be cool with that?

As these pointless musings swirled in his head, he realized that if he carelessly expressed his feelings, she might respond with, “Ah… I’m sorry, but that’s not what I meant. Can we stay as good seniors and juniors like before? I don’t dislike you as a senior, but I’m just not looking to date anyone right now.”

“It’s nothing serious. Just two guys sitting together don’t have much to talk about, so we were having some trivial banter,” he said.

Having recognized that her feigned interest didn’t necessarily mean genuine curiosity, Seol Hajin tried his best to change the subject. Unfortunately, Lee Ji-eun wasn’t the type to easily let it slide.

“No, really. I’ve actually been playing some games recently, so I was just wondering if you were discussing something related to them.”

“What game?”

“Ragnarok. Do you guys know it?”

Of course, he knew about it. It would be more accurate to say there was no way he wouldn’t know about it.

Ragnarok—this year’s most talked-about mobile game with the highest recognition rates among titles released.

Originally released as a casual game aimed at mass appeal, it boasted a deep storyline, attractive characters, and a level of freedom that could compete with any AAA title, achieving the top global sales within just a day of launch.

Given its popularity, not only did it have ads on portal sites, but you could also frequently see advertisements related to Ragnarok on buses and subways, so any Korean with a decent eyesight couldn’t possibly be unaware of it.

‘Still, it’s a game I don’t play.’
However, at the same time, it was a game that Seol Hajin, far from expressing interest, wouldn’t even spare a glance at.

The reason was simple. No matter how good the gameplay was, how excellent it was, or how much praise it received from the public, it was merely a “mobile game.”

In Seol Hajin’s view, mobile games weren’t real games. By his standards, mobile games were nothing more than playgrounds disguised as games for small children.

Because they aimed at an unspecified mass audience, they couldn’t include stimulating or polarizing elements. They had to be playable on smartphones without issue, which meant compromising on graphics and resolution. Most of the time, gameplay was so simple that one could clear it with just finger taps.

A proper game, in his opinion, was one you had to die at least a hundred times until you became skilled at the controls, one that was complex enough not to master half of its commands before clearing it, and one you needed to play for a thousand hours to finally think, “Ah, I’ve truly shed my newb skin!”

Those who played “mobile games” in his eyes were nothing but ignorant and foolish primitives.

“If they were to realize what a true game is, they would never look at such a game again.”

Yet Seol Hajin also understood well how exhausting and tough it was to enlighten the dense and simple-minded masses about what constituted a “real game.”

Just opening a history book would reveal the suffering endured by the wise men who sought to impart truth to the people of the past and guide them onto the right path.

It was similar here. To play a true game, one needed the optimal setup, had to purchase the game, and had to manage time and space to connect to it—an inconvenience that mobile games simply did not possess.

With just a few taps of their fingers, players could access the game, and with a few more taps, it would even automatically hunt for them. For modern individuals who struggled to find time to play amidst their busy lives, mobile games might be the most suitable form of entertainment.

The overwhelming convenience and simplicity distracted people from truly enjoying the game, leading them to mistakenly think that merely tapping buttons constituted entertainment. This was undoubtedly a troubling darkness lurking in modern society.

“Hey Ji-eun, you played Ragnarok too?”

“Yeah, a friend recommended it, and surprisingly, it was really fun. I lost track of time while going through the story.”

Observing Lee Ji-eun, who smiled and spoke cheerfully, Seol Hajin couldn’t help but respond somewhat brusquely.

“Is it really that fun? Honestly, I can’t tell just by watching the advertisement.”

What Seol Hajin meant was implicit in his words: “There’s no way a mobile game, akin to online gambling, could be enjoyable.” Lee Ji-eun was blissfully unaware of the superior and elitist sentiment woven into his remarks.

“Yeah, I don’t usually play games, but I found this one really enjoyable. Do you not play Ragnarok, senior?”

“Uh? Well, I’m too busy playing other games.”

“Really? If that’s the case, how about trying it out this time? If you’re interested, just contact me, okay?”

“Contact you? Why?”

In that instant, Seol Hajin’s heart sank. Weren’t girls generally not fond of guys who played games? So why was Lee Ji-eun trying to bring him into it and asking him to contact her?

Could it be that she was actually interested in him? No, that’s nonsense. They had only exchanged greetings a few times; there was no way she could be interested in him.

Then, what was this? Weren’t girls supposed to not care at all about what uninterested guys did? If that were the case, didn’t her wanting to play games together signal something else? Was that it?

“Ah… I just wanted to ask if you’d write my ID in the referral list if you signed up as a new member. I’d get 500 diamonds for free that way.”

“…..”

It was a sufficiently reasonable request that he found himself nodding before he could even think.

Well, 500 diamonds were hard to pass up.