I've loved gaming since I was a kid. The reason was simple: spending all my days in the hospital, I had nothing to do but play games. Over time, gaming became a part of my life. But like anything, if you do it for long enough, you eventually get tired of it.

“Damn… did the AI really choose that? Why heal that bastard?”

At some point, no matter what game I played, it just wasn’t as fun as it used to be. It wasn’t the genre—whether it was AOS, RPG, FPS, or something else. The stories and worlds felt like copy-pastes, and the game systems lacked depth.

I wanted something more. Something special. That’s when I found Dungeon & Stone.

Click, click.

It’s a single-player RPG. An indie game from overseas.

(Indie games are created by individuals or small teams without the financial backing of big publishers.)

It didn’t support Korean and used 2D pixel art, which was pretty rare these days. To be honest, it wasn’t my usual type of game. But since it was free, I figured I’d give it a shot. It didn’t take long before I was hooked.

“Wow, we almost got wiped out because of that damn priest.”

The game was unique in so many ways. When a character died, you had to start training them from scratch. NPCs were crucial to your progress, and for a vertical-scrolling game, the freedom it offered was incredible. The skill system was engaging, the lore was rich—even in English. But what really drew me in was its strange, almost unexplainable charm.

Tap-tap. Ta-ta-ta-tap.

As a subway maintenance worker, I spent all my free time playing Dungeon & Stone. It wasn’t easy. The battles weren’t just about HP and MP. Even with maxed-out stats, one mistake could mean losing the character I’d spent three months carefully leveling up.

“Alright… let’s do this.”

After two years of playing, I still hadn’t made it halfway through the game. Swallowing my pride, I searched online for strategies. But I couldn’t find anything on Korean sites, so I had to translate tips from English forums. Even then, it didn’t help much. There weren’t many players abroad either, and the few articles I found were barely useful. Unlike those who gave up after a month or two and called the game a failure, I had spent two years studying it seriously. I understood it far better by then. So, I stopped looking for guides.

“Three steps up, four to the left, one down, two to the left, then six up, and four to the right. Finally, dodge the trap and… there we go.”

This game always came to mind when I was desperate for something new to play. No matter how long it took, I was determined to push through on my own. And…

Phew.

That’s how I got to where I am now.

[Abyss Gate]

My character was standing in front of the portal to the final boss’s room. But of course, I knew this wasn’t the end. I’d have to come back here a few more times before I’d even have a chance to win. This wasn’t the kind of game where you beat the boss on your first try. Still, my fingers were stiff with tension.

“The final boss…”

It might not mean much to someone else, but it took me nine years to get here. No exaggeration—this game had been with me throughout my twenties. From the day I lost my job in public service, to the years I went back to school, and even the day I got the job offer I’d been dreaming of after graduation—I was always playing Dungeon & Stone.

[Do you want to enter?]

As my character approached the portal, a message popped up, asking if I wanted to go in. Naturally, I clicked [YES]. But since this was the final boss’s room, a second, more ominous message appeared.

[You may never come back.]

[Do you still want to enter?]

From a player’s perspective, this was just unnecessary suspense.

Of course I’m going in.

[Yes/No]

As soon as I clicked [Yes], the screen shifted to a loading screen.

Staring at the darkened monitor, I focused all my attention on the game.

How many attack patterns would the boss have? What elements would it be weak to? It’s probably got some instant-kill moves. I needed to forget about trying to win on the first try and focus on gathering information. I might have to completely rethink my build or my approach.

My brain, fired up with excitement and anticipation, was entirely focused on the final boss. That’s why I noticed it a second too late.

[You have reached the abyss.]

[Training complete.]

Training complete? Wait… why is this in Korean? Isn’t Dungeon & Stone only in English?

[The transfer will begin now.]

At that moment, a blinding light flashed from the screen. It was so bright, I could barely believe it was coming from my monitor.

“Ah... damn it! My eyes!”

Suddenly, everything around me turned white. My ears rang, and a strange warmth spread over my skin. My mind quickly fogged, like I’d just been hit with an anesthetic. Normally, I’m pretty good at handling unexpected situations, but at that moment, I had no idea what was happening.

Flash!

The light grew stronger, and I passed out. When I opened my eyes again, I was a barbarian inside the game.