30 Years Have Passed Since the Prologue

"Ah, it's an unfamiliar ceiling…."

Kim Sunwoo remarked, attempting to sound all chill about it.

Well, okay, "chill" might be a stretch. His hands were kinda shaking, like he just downed five cups of coffee on an empty stomach.

He'd been waiting for this moment forever. A foreign ceiling, a whole different world—bring it on! Reincarnation, transmigration, rebirth—whatever you call it, he was ready!

Seriously, he'd prepped for this moment more than a kid preparing for their first day of school. You know the drill if you're from South Korea: to reincarnate in another world, you gotta submit a 5,700-character critique of the book and, of course, read it to completion.

But Kim Sunwoo? He took it up a notch. You'd think he was studying for a PhD in "How to Jump into Fictional Worlds." He wrote a 5,700-character critique for every story he wanted to dive into.

Every day, with mad gratitude (and probably a little insanity), he churned out those critiques, all meticulously detailed. You'd think he was auditioning for the role of "Most Dedicated Fanboy Ever."

"Just gotta crank out those 5,700 characters, and then I'll hear, 'Then try it yourself, dumbass!'"

Most of the time, it ended with furious authors or online trolls trying to shut him down, but he always emerged victorious—like some sort of literary superhero.

And now, he'd finally made it to another world! All that was left was to figure out what kind of story he'd landed in. Simple, right?

"Status window!" he declared, expecting some flashy, high-tech blue screen.

Nothing. Just crickets. But he was cool with it. His list of works without a status window was practically a bestseller of negative reviews. He was basically a pro at this.

Now, he found himself in the body of an eight-year-old kid. Sure, it felt weird, but hey, time and superpowers were on his side!

Raggedy clothes and a beat-up ceiling? No problem!

– Starting from a place like this?!

– Seriously, a total prodigy!

– I'm gonna score riches and status, just wait!

You know what they say: success is sweeter when you come up from a rough childhood.

Kim Sunwoo chuckled and got up, a bounce in his step.

First things first: let's start with something simple, like 'making soap.'

At four years old, during his first week of transmigration, Kim Sunwoo learned that his new identity was "Ivan Petrovich."

His parents? Simple farmers who were more lost than a cat in a dog show. They didn't even know the name of their country or how to read!

After a hilariously disastrous attempt at making soap (and a stern lecture for messing with lye), he discovered—surprise!—soap already existed in this world.

What a plot twist!

Four years old. Week six of transmigration.

Finally, Kim Sunwoo got to explore the village while delivering eggs. When he spotted a newspaper lying on the ground, he felt a strange tickle of curiosity.

"If a society can print newspapers and distribute them to a rural area like this, it's probably not the medieval era, right?"

That day, most of his 'transmigration work list' got wiped out faster than a bad first date.

Four years old. Week fifteen of transmigration.

At last, Kim Sunwoo heard the name of his country. After learning the king's name (simply 'His Majesty'—very mysterious, right?), he rushed home and tossed his cherished 'transmigration work list' into the fireplace.

Everything was new—new country, new ruler, and neighboring kingdoms that sounded like they came straight out of a fantasy RPG.

Now, what mattered wasn't what kind of work he transmigrated into but what genre this world was.

He hoped it wasn't dark fantasy because, let's be real, small-scale farmers without status windows or special transmigration bonuses had a survival rate of less than 5%.

Eight years old. Winter of the fourth year of transmigration.

Out of the blue, a demon king popped up. Just your average Tuesday, right?

The war was still distant, but ominous news filled the air like bad weather.

Eight years old, in winter.

Ivan's father was conscripted and left. Ivan's mother took in foster children to make ends meet, which made for a chaotic household.

This is when Kim Sunwoo's sense of self began to shift.

Ten years old. Sixth year of transmigration.

Kim Sunwoo became skilled enough to help his mother with the foster children. Talk about character development!

Twelve years old. Eighth year of transmigration.

Finally, he learned to read. His reward? Delivering eggs to the village head's house for six years. Worth it? Totally!

Fourteen years old. Tenth year of transmigration.

News of his father's death reached the village, but here's the kicker: it was a death notice issued two years earlier!

Taking a few coins in exchange for a life, he looked at his weeping mother and thought two things:

First, the genre of this world was probably some sort of strategy simulation. It was way too intricate for an RPG. In most cases, they wouldn't have so many different nations if players couldn't interact with them. Writing a novel or webtoon in this world would lead to comments like, "What's this nonsense, just another self-indulgent story!"

Second, he thought, "Don't worry, Mother."

He wiped away her tears and submitted his enlistment application to the recruiting officer. His salary was 15 ducats from the eastern part, and he had a contract to send it all to his mother.

'Ivan Petrovich' hoped that this woman's hands would no longer tremble.

It wasn't a sudden sense of duty, but rather a deep respect for the incredible woman sacrificing everything for him, a total stranger. He also felt a wave of guilt for inhabiting the body of a young boy named 'Ivan' and being the reason for the loss of her only bloodline.

Eighteen years old. Fourteenth year of transmigration. Four years of military service.

Due to a small military contribution and a stroke of luck, Ivan's status went from 'conscript' to 'regular army.'

He realized that Ivan's body had more combat talent than he initially thought.

Twenty-two years old. Eighteenth year of transmigration. Eight years of military service.

As the front lines were pushed to the brink and half of the allied nations were in chaos, a hero emerged.

At this point, Ivan finally understood the genre of this world.

It was a hero story, a real RPG.

But the hero was just a tale from a distant land, and Ivan's front line was still being pushed back relentlessly.

Twenty-eight years old. Twenty-fourth year of transmigration. Fourteen years of military service.

The hero's party advanced, intercepting the commanders of the demon army, and the situation took a turn.

Ivan now served in the "Restoration Zone Control and Enemy Faction Identification Unit."

In simpler terms:

– Cleanup Unit.

This specialized unit was deployed when the hero's party killed enemy leaders and the enemy forces were thrown into disarray.

For about a year from this point, Ivan traveled using the same military camp as the hero's party.

Thirty years old. Twenty-sixth year of transmigration. Sixteen years of military service.

The hero party managed to defeat the Demon King.

Ivan decided it was time to wait for the ending.

All he wanted now was an escape from this never-ending world.

Thirty-two years old. Twenty-eight years of transmigration.

Two years had passed since the Demon King's demise, but the ending was still nowhere in sight.

During this time, the Cleanup Unit's numbers had dwindled to a fifth of what they once were.

With no new recruits coming in, Ivan realized the higher-ups planned to disband them.

After what felt like their final mission, Ivan viewed this as an extended epilogue and applied for discharge.

His mother from his hometown had passed away a decade ago, so he was entirely alone.

Near the capital, he established an orphanage and welcomed war orphans.

It was a small act of kindness considering his circumstances.

Thirty-four years old. Thirtieth year of transmigration.

Yet, even now.

The ending credits were nowhere to be found.

The idea that this might not be an RPG shifted from just a thought to a certainty, all thanks to a surprise visitor at the orphanage.

"Damn it."

"Yes?"

"Damn it. Was this an academy setting?"

"Senior…?"

To the unexpectedly sworn, the guest glanced awkwardly at the orphanage director (a war hero with 18 years of military service, a veteran of the Cleanup Unit, and an acquaintance of the hero party).

The guest, dispatched from the palace, recalled the various nicknames of the orphanage director and broke into a cold sweat.

The King's son-in-law, lumberjack, the guy who slew the Seven Dragons, the immortal, the reserve soldier—seriously, this guy was a living legend among conscripts!

Seeing this intimidating figure, who looked like he might wield an axe at anyone who spoke out of line, the guest forced a nervous smile and held his breath until the orphanage director's irritation subsided.