Into the Game

The hours between lunch and nightfall passed in a blur, but there was a noticeable shift within Joon-ho's group of friends after that meal. Something unspoken had been repaired, or at least patched up enough for the moment. The laughter they shared at the cafeteria, the gentle teasing—it was a reminder that, despite everything, they were still in this together. Maybe not everything was perfect, but they had each other's backs. That was enough for now.

As evening settled in, Joon-ho returned to his dorm, trying to keep his mind clear. But the moment of calm he found with his friends couldn't last forever. He sat on the edge of his bed, the hum of campus life outside the window fading as the night deepened. His thoughts drifted toward the confrontation waiting ahead—the ambush in NexaRealm, where he'd lead Hye-su and Hae-won straight to Jin-ho.

With his phone resting next to him, Joon-ho fought the urge to keep checking the time, knowing that soon, it would begin. He didn't want to do this. The idea of betraying Jin-ho gnawed at him, but he'd trapped himself in this situation. If he didn't follow through, Team 2 could be pulled from the championship for good. And yet, handing Jin-ho over to the two women felt like crossing a line he didn't want to step over.

The NCK app pinged, snapping Joon-ho from his thoughts. He picked up the phone, the screen glowing in the dim room. It was a private message.

Hae-won: Are you ready?

Before Joon-ho could type a response, another notification followed. This time, it was from Director Hye-su herself.

Hye-su: The plan begins now. Log in.

Joon-ho stared at the messages, his heart hammering against his ribs. There was no going back now. He took a deep breath, then typed out a quick response.

Joon-ho: Understood. Logging in.

He hesitated for a brief moment. Part of him still hoped that Jin-ho wouldn't log in tonight—that the man's unpredictability would derail the ambush entirely. If Jin-ho didn't show up, Joon-ho could walk away without betraying anyone. At least for one more day. But if Jin-ho did show up…

Another ping.

Hye-su: Don't be late, Joon-ho. We're counting on you.

Joon-ho clenched his jaw and stood up, pacing the room for a moment as he mentally prepared himself. He knew Director Hye-su and Hae-won were waiting for him to initiate the plan. In NexaRealm, they would have administrative privileges to bypass restrictions and monitor his every move through the live feed of his gameplay. When the moment came, they would spawn beside him to confront Jin-ho directly.

He swallowed hard, the weight of the situation pressing down on him. There was no way out—only forward.

Sitting back down at his desk, Joon-ho powered on his gaming rig. As the screen lit up and the familiar NexaRealm interface loaded, his phone buzzed again.

Hye-su: We're watching. Make your move.

Joon-ho slid on his Realm headset, opened the game client, and prepared to log in. His fingers hovered over the keyboard, a projection inside his mind, for just a second longer than usual. This wasn't just a game anymore. This was real, and the next few hours would change everything.

With a deep breath, he hit Enter and launched NexaRealm. The ambush was about to begin.

As Joon-ho's screen loaded into the familiar yet sprawling world of NexaRealm, the NCK app's text notifications seamlessly switched to voice comms. A sharp click echoed through his headset, followed by Hae-won's clear but measured voice.

"Joon-ho, we're live. Can you hear us?"

"Yeah," Joon-ho responded, trying to keep his voice steady. His nerves were already kicking in.

Director Hye-su's voice followed, smooth but commanding.

"Good. Now head to where you usually meet him. Stick to the plan."

"Got it," Joon-ho said reluctantly, adjusting his grip on the mouse. He wasn't sure if the tightness in his chest was guilt or anxiety—or both.

He took a deep breath and opened the world map. His cursor hovered over the nearest teleporter in the Citadel of Nexa, a gleaming metropolis in the game's centre. Clicking the teleport pad, a list of accessible destinations appeared. He scrolled until he reached the one he needed: The Ebonveil Highlands, the highest-level world in NexaRealm.

"Are you sure about this?" Hae-won's voice cut through the comms, laced with concern. "You know what the system warned, right? You're not high-level enough for Ebonveil Highlands. You could lose items—hell, you could lose your entire inventory."

"Yeah. I know," Joon-ho gritted his teeth. "And here is where Jin-ho resides."

A bold system prompt flashed across his screen:

[WARNING! The Ebonveil Highlands is restricted to advanced players. You are entering at your own risk. Loss of items, experience, and game progress is not protected. Proceed with caution.]

He went there a couple of times already. And there was no other choice.

"Risky place to hang out," Hae-won muttered quietly, almost to herself.

"That's deliberate," Hye-su murmured in agreement. "Jin-ho knows exactly what he's doing. He stays in Ebonveil Highlands because hardly anyone dares to go there. Fewer players means fewer confrontations and fewer ways to track him."

Joon-ho remained silent, half-listening to their exchange while his screen transitioned into the icy, windswept peaks of the Ebonveil Highlands. White clouds swirled through the jagged mountaintops as an eerie silence blanketed the landscape. The environment here was stark, empty, and unforgiving—a fitting place for someone who wanted to disappear from the system's radar.

As the teleportation animation finished, Joon-ho's avatar emerged at the main teleportal here, a towering, ancient structure buried under layers of snow and frost. The wind howled as if warning him to turn back, but he pressed forward, albeit slowly. His boots crunched against the snow, each step dragging as if mirroring the heavy weight of his thoughts.

"You're walking awfully slow," Hye-su remarked with a hint of impatience over the comms.

"I know," Joon-ho muttered, his voice low.

He was stalling, and he knew it. A part of him hoped that Jin-ho wouldn't show up tonight—that he could avoid this whole mess and walk away unscathed. But another part of him knew better. Jin-ho wasn't the kind of person to miss a trick, especially not when it involved someone he trusted, even slightly, betraying him.

"Pick up the pace, Joon-ho," Hye-su ordered. "We don't have all night."

"Right," he replied, forcing his avatar to move faster across the frozen landscape.

The route to where he usually met Jin-ho was etched into his memory—past the Shattered Glacier, through the Wailing Ravine, and up the narrow Skyfall Path. Every step closer felt heavier, as if the digital world mirrored the weight pressing on his heart.

Hae-won's voice softened slightly over the comms.

"You okay, Joon-ho?"

He gave a noncommittal hum, trying to ignore the gnawing anxiety growing in his chest. The closer he got, the more real everything felt. This wasn't just a game session anymore—this was an ambush, and Joon-ho was leading it.

As he trudged up the icy ridge, a thought struck him like a blow to the gut: What would Jin-ho think when he saw him? Would he see it as a betrayal? Would this burn whatever fragile connection they had built?

He swallowed hard, trying to shake the thoughts away. He didn't have time to second-guess himself. The plan was in motion. All he could do now was play along—and hope that, somehow, things didn't go completely off the rails tonight.

Joon-ho continued his slow march through the frigid winds of Ebonveil Highlands, his avatar's cape fluttering behind him in the unforgiving cold. Each step he took toward the familiar meeting spot made his heart pound harder. He knew that at the end of this path, everything could change—for better or worse.

The Skyfall Path narrowed into a thin trail lined with jagged rocks and patches of frost. Below, the Wailing Ravine yawned like a beast waiting to swallow anyone careless enough to slip. The wind howled louder here, almost drowning out the sound of his breath and the subtle static from the voice comm.

"We're almost there, right?" Director Hye-su's voice cut through the storm.

"Yeah," Joon-ho muttered. "It's just past this ridge."

"Stay sharp," Hye-su warned. "The second we get visual confirmation on Jin-ho, we're moving in."

Joon-ho gritted his teeth, his hand tightening on the mouse. Visual confirmation. The words felt heavy—final. It wasn't just a phrase; it was a promise that things would never be the same again after tonight. If Jin-ho saw through what was happening, this could ruin everything.

"You've got this, Joon-ho," Hae-won's voice came in softer now, almost reassuring. But even her words couldn't shake the weight off his shoulders.

He climbed the final rise, and there it was—the small plateau at the edge of the map, half-buried in snow, where Jin-ho always waited. But tonight, the area was disturbingly empty. Just the wind and the snow swirling in silence. No sign of Jin-ho.

Joon-ho's breath hitched. Had he logged off for the night?

Or worse—had he figured it out?

"Do you see him?" Hye-su asked, her voice sharp.

"No," Joon-ho whispered. His palms were sweating despite the cold.

"Wait."

And then—just as Joon-ho was about to exhale in relief—a faint flicker appeared at the far edge of the plateau, materializing out of the storm like a ghost. A figure. Jin-ho.

Joon-ho's heart stopped.

"Target in sight," Director Hye-su whispered over the comms, her voice tense with anticipation. "We're moving in."

Joon-ho clenched his jaw, knowing there was no turning back now. This was it.