Chapter 4: The Tutorial is Too Easy (2)

Lee Kyungbok, who had been standing still, turned at the beeping sound. Five seconds had already elapsed on the timer.

Let’s give it a try.

He wanted to test these unfamiliar senses he’d never experienced before to see if they were real. Lee Kyungbok immediately pushed off from the ground and started running.

He focused his attention in the direction of perceived obstacles. The first one was a pillar protruding from the wall.

“Wow.”

It was spot-on. In the darkness, there stood the pillar exactly as he sensed it. Since he knew its location beforehand, he didn’t have to worry about colliding with it.

And this too?

Next came a section of floor that would crumble after about one second. Lee Kyungbok deliberately stepped onto the felt area and quickly looked back. As expected, the ground split apart with a loud crack.

So then…

A faint smile crept across Lee Kyungbok’s face, his initial skepticism now replaced by certainty.

The system message demanded ‘caution’, but Lee Kyungbok instead increased his speed and strength further.

‘If I go this way…!’

He sensed the exact locations of all hidden obstacles. Naturally, it was easy to draw the optimal path avoiding them. Lee Kyungbok didn’t stop for even a moment as he traversed the course.

“Whew.”

In reality, he would’ve collapsed due to exhaustion. However, things were different here. Lee Kyungbok exhaled happily with a smile.

[You have successfully passed!]

[00:53:21]

Soon, the test results window appeared before him. As expected for a tutorial test, the course wasn’t particularly long.

‘There’s a ranking too?’

At the bottom of the result screen, he noticed a trophy icon. Curiously, Lee Kyungbok opened the rankings.

[Your physical ability test result places you currently at ‘3rd position’.]

[Amazing!]

[Are you perhaps a national representative athlete in real life? Your abilities are truly remarkable!]

’…I’m ranked third?’

Lee Kyungbok blinked and checked the overall rankings.

[1st place: Kim ** (00:52:12)]

[2nd place: Jung ** (00:52:37)]

[3rd place: Lee Kyungbok (00:53:21)]

Due to privacy concerns, only the surnames of other participants were revealed. However, this didn’t bother Lee Kyungbok.

‘Wait, I’m not actually in third place, am I?’

He hadn’t immediately sprinted when the test began. It took him approximately five seconds due to unfamiliarity with his senses. But what if he had started right away?

‘I would have been first, wouldn’t I?’

Being among the top five in South Korea itself would be astonishing, but reaching the very pinnacle was unexpected. Yet, there was another reason for Lee Kyungbok’s bewilderment:

‘It wasn’t even that challenging.’

His high ranking wasn’t achieved through strenuous effort or aiming specifically for it.

Meanwhile, Choi Byunghoon was astonished for another reason.

“…Unbelievable.”

He had been monitoring Lee Kyungbok from outside using his smartlink device to ensure nothing went wrong. Thankfully, Kyungbok seemed fine and showed great interest in this virtual reality experience. At this rate, he would likely welcome any broadcasting opportunities they offered him.

However, something strange happened during the obstacle course run. Initially, Byunghoon thought Kyungbok’s old symptoms were returning when he stood frozen at the starting line, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. Worried that his illness might have resurfaced, Byunghoon anxiously watched as soon as Kyungbok finally started running—and everything changed dramatically.

“He crushed it.”

It had been less than a minute, but that was more than enough time for him to be stunned.

How is he avoiding all these obstacles without getting hit even once?

Lee Kyungbok moved like a runaway train. The faster his speed increased, the quicker and denser the obstacles became. Yet, Kyungbok navigated them effortlessly as if water flowing through cracks..

He didn’t awkwardly dodge either. His confident expression and fluid movements made it clear to anyone watching that this wasn’t his first virtual reality experience.

As someone well-versed in the industry, Choi Byunghoon fully understood how remarkable Lee Kyungbok’s performance was. Had any other professional witnessed this, their eyes would have popped out of their sockets—just like Byunghoon’s did now.

“Damn! I should’ve recorded this…” He rubbed his forehead in frustration.

From an editor’s perspective, there wasn’t a single moment to discard. The problem was that he had been too stunned to even think of recording it. Choi Byunghoon smacked his forehead at his foolish decision.

Meanwhile, Lee Kyungbok emerged from the capsule as it opened.

“Whew…” His face still showed signs of lingering awe. After experiencing such comfort and ease within virtual reality, adjusting back to his physical body felt jarring.

It’s gone now, just as I expected.

Lee Kyungbok felt this acutely. He could no longer perceive the extraordinary sensations that seemed to transcend his five senses, which were present only in the virtual world. Having experienced them once made their absence somewhat frustrating.

Is this due to divine power again? Maybe there were no backlash because it was a virtual experience?

One explanation immediately came to mind regarding these heightened senses, but there was no time for deep contemplation.

“Hey, what’s up with you?”

“Huh?” Choi Byunghoon interrogated Lee Kyungbok.

“No seriously, is this your first time using a capsule?”

“What do you mean? I saw you creating your account right next to me.”

“But how… Oh man, that’s insane.” Choi Byunghoon laughed awkwardly, seemingly at a loss for words.

He had expected Kyungbok to be good at video games but not this physically adept. It was surprising yet incredibly satisfying news.

“Hey.” Choi Byunghoon gently grabbed Lee Kyungbok’s shoulder. “I guess you’re some kind of prodigy after all.”

”…What?”

Prodigy — a talent bestowed by heaven itself. Choi Byunghoon said it half-jokingly and half-seriously.

If he plays his cards right, we could hit the jackpot.

This assessment came from his experience as an editor.

“Hey! Hey! Seriously, think it over! You’ll be successful, I tell you! It’s criminal to waste such talent!”

“A-all right already. I’ll get back to you.”

Lee Kyungbok continued on his way after bidding farewell to Choi Byunghoon, who was still fussing at him.

He thinks I’m a genius?

Objectively speaking, Choi Byunghoon was an excellent editor, not just because he was Lee Kyungbok’s friend. Even someone like Lee Kyungbok, who knew little about virtual reality, found himself captivated by the videos Byunghoon created.

Given their relationship and Byunghoon’s expertise, there had to be some truth behind his insistence that Kyungbok would succeed. They weren’t known for sugarcoating things with each other.

Anyway, he’s always been impulsive.

One could interpret it as having great initiative, but right now, it felt more like impatience bordering on recklessness.

Lee Kyungbok suddenly stopped walking and took stock of his surroundings. It was lunchtime during a weekday, so many people were out for their lunch.

These people probably use capsules as well.

It was rare to find someone like Lee Kyungbok without one. Nowadays, having at least one capsule per household had become as common as owning a computer.

Korea’s number one…

He mulled over his test results once more.

Of course, some might have skipped the test due to annoyance, but even considering that possibility, being ranked first held significant weight. No wonder Choi Byunghoon reacted so strongly.

Lee Kyungbok changed direction.

One more time…

His destination this time was a capsule room.

I need to give it another try.

This time, he planned to go all out. If he succeeded, it would confirm whether he truly possessed the genius-level skills his friend claimed.

As soon as Choi Byunghoon arrived home, he turned on his computer right away.

It was definitely fifty-three point twenty-one seconds.

His friend’s record was firmly etched in his mind. Considering the wasted time before starting, it had taken him approximately forty-eight seconds to complete the test.

I’m sure there’s a website that collects test results.

The test conducted during the first tutorial inside the capsule wasn’t meant for competition. The results weren’t considered significant either. It simply aimed to assess users’ physical abilities, albeit not through any rigorous or professional means.

Nobody likes receiving poor evaluations, and it would be foolish to create a negative initial virtual reality experience for users.

Let me see… The average score seems to be around one minute and twenty seconds.

Therefore, the test’s difficulty level was set to be quite moderate. Most adults should clear it within one minute and thirty seconds at the very least, while any time over two minutes would indicate unsuitable data for collection.

“The world record…is here.” Choi Byunghoon eagerly opened the page, and his jaw dropped as he checked the global rankings.

[World Record]

[1st. Rob – ‘00:47:53’]*

[2nd. Ota – ‘00:48:22’]*

[3rd. Jac – ‘00:50:45’]*

Lee Kyungbok’s record stood at approximately forty-eight seconds.

He’s ranked third in the world!

Although they couldn’t precisely measure the delay, this result indicated that Kyungbok could potentially aim for second or even first place globally.

To think his friend was one of the top three players in the world!

“Tsk, tsk… To think he’s been working as a salesman instead of using this ability…!”

It wasn’t just about chasing success for Choi Byunghoon; it genuinely pained him to see his friend’s talent go unrecognized. He couldn’t help but feel responsible, wondering what might have happened if he had encouraged Kyungbok earlier, even though they worked in the same industry.

How can I persuade him…?

He understood why Lee Kyungbok hesitated. The streaming industry was similar to show business, with streamers relying on public attention and affection for their livelihoods. However, compared to traditional celebrities, streamers enjoyed more freedom, less restriction, and better communication with their audience.

Being constantly exposed to the public could be quite stressful for streamers.

But the rewards are equally huge.

As previously mentioned, streamers operated on similar principles as celebrities, and their net worth had no ceiling. With enough recognition, they could live more comfortably than most entertainers. Between revenue from livestreams and sponsorships alone, not to mention income from endorsements (known within the industry as “homework”), and profits from YouTube videos, it was possible to aim for earnings in the hundreds of millions of won per year.

However, there are certainly risks involved.

Of course, this field wasn’t all sunshine and roses. The downside was just as extreme. Choi Byunghoon had witnessed numerous streamers plummeting due to one mistake or another, some experiencing a free fall in popularity.

However, Choi Byunghoon was confident he could handle those risks.

As long as this kid is okay with it…

He scratched his head vigorously and took a deep breath to steady himself.

That’s right; he hasn’t rejected the offer yet. He just needs time to process everything. This is his first experience with virtual reality.

With that thought, Choi Byunghoon let out another sigh. Anyone hearing about someone becoming the world’s third-best player on their first try would think it absurd.

I should start drafting a simple strategy…

Just as he began contemplating how to approach Lee Kyungbok (recruit him?), the smartlink bracelet on his wrist gently vibrated. It was a notification from the person he wanted to recruit.

“Hey! What’s up?”

[Please open the door.]

“The door?”

[I’m outside your apartment.]

Choi Byunghoon sprang to his feet. Absorbed in his thoughts, he hadn’t noticed Lee Kyungbok’s face on the intercom screen. He rushed over and opened the door for him.

“Oh, come in, come in.”

“Did I interrupt something?” Seeing Choi Byunghoon’s flustered expression, Lee Kyungbok knowingly asked.

“Interrupt?”

“You shouldn’t be doing that kind of thing during daylight hours.”

“What nonsense is this?!”

“Or maybe not.” Chuckling, Lee Kyungbok plopped down casually on the sofa as if it were his own living room.

Choi Byunghoon frowned but realized what caught Lee Kyungbok’s attention when he saw him glance at the computer monitor.

“World record? What’s this about?”

“Huh? Oh, just checking out your world record from today.”

There was no need to hide it; it wasn’t anything embarrassing. Choi Byunghoon decided to confidently address the matter.

“This is…a world record?” Lee Kyungbok’s forehead creased with confusion.

Noticing this, Choi Byunghoon quickly approached him. “Yes, it’s true! Hey, hey—this couldn’t have come at a better time. Take a look. You’re number one in Korea and third in the world—no wait, second now! Number two, you’re number two!”

Choi Byunghoon fervently hoped that Lee Kyungbok would recognize his own potential. He pleaded, “Seriously, just trust me for half a year—no, even three months is fine. Is that too long? Okay! Let’s try broadcasting for just one month, no more than that! What do you say? I truly believe you’ll succeed!”

“Hey.” With just one word, Lee Kyungbok cut off Choi Byunghoon’s plea. As Choi Byunghoon stepped back, slightly crestfallen, Lee Kyungbok manipulated his smart ring.

A notification beeped as an image arrived.

”…What’s this?”

“Take a look.”

Choi Byunghoon curiously observed Lee Kyungbok’s expression. Strangely, he didn’t seem upset. What kind of photo could it be?

When Choi Byunghoon saw the image, he froze instantly.

“S-S-S-Sa…”

“I had some trouble figuring out how to capture this screenshot.”

It was a record:

[Congratulations on passing safely!]

[00:42:18]

[Lee Kyungbok’s result for the Physical Ability Test is currently ‘Rank 1’.]

This represented Lee Kyungbok’s all-out effort and his true achievement. With a relaxed smile, he refreshed the page.

[World Record.]

[1st. Lee*** - ‘00:42:18’]

The updated record appeared.

“As you said, I guess I’m truly a genius.” Lee Kyungbok felt more confident than ever.