Chapter 21 ….
Shield Best, real name Choi Jung-hoo.
Age 23.
Freshly returned from military service and back in college, he was often treated like a fossil—but he didn’t care.
Because he had his childhood friends, Miganddakdae and Yubinkkyung… no—Kim Woo-jin and Yubin.
From childhood through middle and high school, they had always been together. Even though they split up in college, their friendship never changed.
They kept in steady contact and naturally met up to hang out.
It helped that their hobbies were similar, and although they were always busy roasting each other, they had never had any serious fights.
One of those shared hobbies was gaming.
Even though VR games were trending, their quality still wasn’t great, so PC games remained in high demand. Gamers had largely split into the VR camp and the PC camp.
And proving their 12-year friendship wasn’t for nothing, Choi Jung-hoo and Kim Woo-jin were firmly PC gamers.
Yubin didn’t really like games, so when they met in person they did other things—but when each was at home, Jung-hoo and Woo-jin always played PC games together.
“GodOS is hot these days. Wanna try it?”
“Nope. Games are best when they’re classics. Besides, isn’t that game total RNG trash? Sounds stressful.”
“You’ve got money though.”
“GodOS is on a different scale. And you’re gonna ditch the guild? Hurry up and log in—we’ve got raids to run.”
They had been curious about GodOS because of the hype, but they were too used to PC games and had too much built up to abandon.
“Honestly, if we start GodOS, Yubin’s gonna get super salty.”
“Ah, fair.”
Even now Yubin got jealous when they hung out without her. If they started GodOS—which apparently had 5-hour default sessions—and became hard to reach, she would definitely feel left out.
Of course, if Yubin just played games, everything would be solved…
…but after getting mentally shattered by toxic trash talk in League of Legends, she had developed a full-on aversion to gaming.
“Hey, do you guys know GodOS?”
“GodOS? Yeah.”
“Who doesn’t know it these days? If you don’t, you’re basically a spy.”
But then, unexpectedly, Yubin brought up games first.
Maybe she’d recently gotten interested in GodOS? On a whim, Jung-hoo asked:
“Why? You gonna try it too?”
“Huh? Her? She hates games. She’s just asking. And even if she tries, she’ll quit in like two hours. Her mechanics are trash.”
“……”
“And haven’t we asked her before? She always says we exclude her, but when we invite her she never plays.”
As Kim Woo-jin snorted and mercilessly roasted her, Jung-hoo quietly stepped back.
He’d seen this scene many times. Any second now, fists or kicks would start flying.
But strangely—
“….”
Yubin didn’t react.
Woo-jin, who had been bracing himself, froze.
Then he stared at her suspiciously. Flustered, Yubin hurriedly rambled:
“I-I mean… I heard GodOS isn’t just a game—it’s like another culture? Lots to do, lots to see… And I saw some guild videos—they looked like movies…”
“Whoa?”
“Ugh, whatever! Just let me try it with you guys!”
That was how the three of them started GodOS.
And the moment they finished the tutorial—
“Wow! Wow! Wow…!”
“Holy—this is insane!”
Yubin and Woo-jin completely lost it.
Yubin’s eyes sparkled as she kept shouting in amazement, asking if this was really a game. Woo-jin lamented wasting his life on trash games until now.
And Jung-hoo?
“…How much do I have in my bank account again?”
He opened his wallet immediately.
After spending 14 million won and pulling a Hero God, he was brimming with confidence.
His friends had also pulled decent gods and usable traits—wasn’t their party basically unmatched at this stage?
He even started thinking that.
“Everyone read the guidebook carefully. Multiple times—it’s important. Especially you, Yubin. If anything’s confusing, ask right away.”
“Okay.”
“There he goes again. I hate theory nerds… but this time I’ll allow it.”
They had even studied the guide thoroughly.
For newbies, they had started with near-optimal preparation.
“Wait a second. Why are we all ranged?”
“? When have you ever seen me play melee?”
“…I just don’t like hitting things up close. And I want to try magic.”
“…Sigh. Hold on, I’ll find someone.”
That was the reason.
Why they hadn’t spent much time recruiting a melee dealer.
There was no death penalty anyway, and they wanted to start hunting quickly, so they figured they’d just grab anyone.
But the one person they found was… a bit unusual.
—Kaiser LV1
Huh? Kaiser? Sounds familiar…
Oh right. That Demrock rank #1. Must be a fan.
At first, Jung-hoo just found it interesting.
There were still people who liked that long-forgotten figure.
Not that Jung-hoo knew much about Kaiser.
In fact, he simply didn’t care.
Why would he pay attention to someone successful in a dead game like Demrock? VR games themselves had never appealed to him.
If GodOS hadn’t caused such a stir, he might never have learned the name Kaiser at all.
Is he really that amazing?
He always wondered that when hearing people talk about Kaiser.
Rank #1? Above Melsal?
Sure—but wasn’t that all ancient history?
VR and full virtual reality were completely different. And Melsal now wasn’t the Melsal of back then.
That’s why Kaiser hadn’t even started.
In fact, hadn’t the name Kaiser quickly faded?
But to meet one of his fans…
Meeting someone like that on his very first day playing GodOS was definitely interesting.
But that was all.
He wasn’t particularly invested.
They just needed a melee dealer until they graduated the beginner city.
Since they themselves were beginners, they weren’t expecting much skill anyway.
That was how things usually went in Arde.
…Why is he so good at fighting?
But that man completely shattered their expectations.
No—he exceeded them to the point it didn’t even feel like the same game.
Watching him effortlessly slaughter goblins with unbelievable combat skill, Jung-hoo wondered if this guy had really just started.
Even though Jung-hoo had never played VR, he’d always been praised as a tank in PC games—but his overflowing confidence was thoroughly crushed.
Still, at that point, he could accept it.
The world really is big, he thought.
But…
Isn’t this too much? No matter how big the world is…
…Who interrupts a boss pattern with basic attacks?
No—who even thinks to try something like that?
In that moment, Jung-hoo instinctively realized:
Kaiser was real!
The man he thought was just a nostalgic fan of the old throne… was actually the throne’s owner.
It was absurd and thrilling—but also fascinating.
How can the timing be like this?
The long-silent Kaiser started GodOS on the exact same day Jung-hoo first began.
And by sheer coincidence, the person he randomly talked to… was Kaiser.
It felt like randomly staying at a guesthouse and ending up eating with a retired celebrity.
And most ordinary people would react the same way.
…A-autograph! I need an autograph first!
Whether you’re a fan or not, how many chances like this happen in a lifetime?
Especially after personally witnessing Dohyun’s combat and feeling chills down his spine.
That was more than enough time to create a new fan.
Just as Jung-hoo was about to carefully speak—
[You have reclaimed Rank #1 in Time Limit.]
[Your party name is registered at Rank #1.]
[Shield Best’s party has been registered.]
—Rank 1: Shield Best’s Party
“…Huh?”
The sudden rank takeover completely destroyed the timing.
Jung-hoo was no stranger to PC games.
He knew exactly what this meant.
Exactly what mistake he’d just made.
I’m screwed.
That was the only thought in his head.
He had only wanted an autograph—what kind of disaster was this?!
They had only lightly started the game out of curiosity. Sure, they’d gotten serious after the tutorial, but he had never intended to steal someone’s spotlight.
Especially not from Kaiser.
What if he was aiming for Rank 1 again…!
Rankers formed the best parties and only attempted runs in peak condition.
Come to think of it, hadn’t that man always chosen the fastest routes?
During the goblin hunt.
During the mixer.
During Phase 2.
[Kaiser’s return!]
[Kaiser reclaims #1 immediately after starting GodOS?]
[Who is Kaiser!]
He had just ruined the perfect opening to shake the world again—the first step of Kaiser’s glorious return.
In reality, Dohyun had acted without much thought.
But ironically, those actions only reinforced Jung-hoo’s fears.
…I’m not going to have to quit the game, right?
They were all beginners—but if it was Kaiser, he would soon join a top-10 guild even if he didn’t regain his old fame.
With the name “Kaiser,” plenty of top guilds would be eyeing him.
With that symbolism, he might even become an executive.
And if this incident came up in an interview later?
…I’d be a fugitive instantly.
It might sound like overthinking.
But to Jung-hoo, it wasn’t excessive at all.
Would people really go that far over a game?
No—because it’s a game.
Unlike reality with laws, in games power is law. With enough power, moral standards are easily ignored.
—
It’s not like we’re really killing them anyway.
—
That was the mindset.
If someone annoyed you, you eliminated them.
And if it was GodOS? It would only be worse.
Kaiser’s fans are famously intense…
And if this involved Kaiser—who had a particularly obsessive fanbase with many hardcore followers?
Those fans who had been lying low would jump at the chance.
How dare you steal our Kaiser’s spot?!
They might not even let him step outside town.
No—forget the fans.
Toxic players riding the hype would definitely use him as a punching bag.
There was a similar case before…
It wasn’t Time Limit, but a user who stole a famous ranker’s hard-earned achievement in high-level content…
Every GodOS player knew what happened to him.
Even Jung-hoo, who had just started, had seen the posts.
He couldn’t endure the endless hunts and eventually quit.
It might seem excessive.
But that was the reality of GodOS.
Its moral lines were somewhat blurred like any game—but it also had too much real-world influence and profit to be dismissed as just a game.
“I’m sorry. I’ll compensate you somehow.”
Apologize.
First apologize, then compensate no matter what.
That was all Jung-hoo could think.
He had just started enjoying GodOS—quitting now would be too unfair.
And this wasn’t just his problem.
Rumors would spread fast, and Kim Woo-jin and Yubin would obviously get dragged into it too.
He couldn’t let Woo-jin suffer—or Yubin, who had finally started enjoying games, quit.
“I’m really sorry.”
His sense of responsibility made him bow so deeply his waist nearly folded.
Woo-jin and Yubin reached out at the same time.
They had grasped the situation.
There was no way they would let Jung-hoo shoulder everything alone.
Let’s apologize too.
If there was responsibility, they would share it.
Just as they were about to bow—
“It’s fine. You didn’t do it on purpose.”
“…Pardon?”
“It’s nothing. The reward is what matters.”
The man showed no bitterness.
No regret.
No resentment.
He didn’t even look upset.
“So it’s fine. Let’s head out now.”
Kaiser spoke casually.
As if it were no big deal at all.
Like telling a friend to move along after picking up 500 won off the street.
That alone was enough to leave Jung-hoo stunned.
Honor is not something you chase—it follows you.
For some reason, those words he once heard surfaced in his mind.
Perhaps because there was no one who fit that saying better than this man.
And how many people in the world could inspire that thought?
“…”
The frantic calculations in his head suddenly felt meaningless.
And that emptiness was quickly filled by something else.
Thrill.
Emotion.
Relief.
It was hard to define in a single word—but it only strengthened his conviction.
“…Ah.”
And it seemed Jung-hoo wasn’t the only one.
When his eyes met Woo-jin’s and Yubin’s, their stunned yet certain expressions showed they were thinking the same thing.
Woo-jin spoke first.
“I’ll be honest—I thought those Kaiser fan posts were exaggerated.”
His usually light voice was stiff, slightly trembling.
Normally they would have teased him.
But not now.
They felt the same.
“But now I get it.”
“…”
“This is Kaiser… He really does live in a different world from us.”
Jung-hoo silently shivered.
…So this is what it feels like to think someone’s back looks cool.
So this is what it means to want to follow someone’s back…
He had always been the tank—the one people followed.
Seeing someone else’s back like this felt strange.
But somehow…
…it didn’t feel bad at all.
