The forest parted ahead. Seo Mira burst through the treeline, boots stumbling over soft grass and stone. Her vision blurred—light, structure, motion.
And then.
She collapsed.
Her body hit the ground with a thud, sword falling from her grasp. The last thing she saw before blacking out was the glint of glass… a door?
...
Cool air brushed against her skin.
Mira stirred, eyes fluttering open. She blinked slowly, uncertain if she was alive or hallucinating.
The ceiling above her was white, smooth, unnaturally clean. There was a soft hum in the air, like a machine working in the distance. The temperature was perfect. Not too hot. Not too cold.
She sat up with effort, back protesting, and looked around.
She was inside a room—but not like any she'd seen in decades. The walls were spotless. Modern. Posters of digital landscapes and vivid game titles decorated the space. Along one side were ten sleek chairs, each equipped with glossy VR helmets.
'What… is this?' she thought, stunned. 'Am I… dead? Is this heaven?'
Then a voice startled her.
"Welcome, customer. Are you alright?"
She turned toward the sound.
A young man stood behind a curved counter, eyebrows raised in concern. His hair was slightly messy, his clothes casual, but his eyes were sharp, but not unkind.
"This…" she whispered, voice hoarse.
"Where… am I?"
He smiled a little, rubbing the back of his head. "Uh, it's hard to explain. But you're safe. This is… well, an internet cafe... I guess?
"Cafe…?" She stared, uncomprehending. Her soldier's instincts screamed caution, but her exhaustion was louder.
"Don't worry," Jinmu said gently, offering her a bottle of water. "You're safe here."
She took the water without thinking.
And for the first time in what felt like years, Seo Mira exhaled.
"I found you just outside the perimeter," Jinmu said, settling on the seat across from her.
"You passed out near the entrance. Looked like you hadn't eaten in days."
Seo Mira bowed her head and cupped her hands politely, a traditional soldier's gesture of gratitude.
"Thank you… for saving me."
"No need," he replied. "Anyone would've done the same."
But she wasn't so sure. In this world, kindness was rare. Rarer still from strangers.
Her stomach grumbled softly.
Jinmu stood up and returned a moment later with a steaming bowl of rice, seasoned vegetables, and a fried egg, real food, the kind she hadn't tasted since her squad's rations ran out two weeks ago.
She froze. "This is…"
"A meal," he said with a grin. "Don't think too hard. Just eat."
Seo Mira lowered her eyes and began to eat slowly, as if she were afraid it might vanish if she moved too quickly.
He watched her in silence for a moment, then leaned back, exhaling.
"So. This place… it's not just a shelter," he began. "It's a shop. Sort of."
She looked up, chewing quietly.
"I run computer games here," he gestured toward the sleek chairs and helmets.
She narrowed her eyes. "Games?"
"Yeah. Sounds ridiculous, I know," he paused, leaning forward slightly.
Mira was quiet for a while. Her gaze drifted to the machines. Then back to him.
"And people… pay to use them?"
"If they have Crystals," he replied.
She frowned. "But Crystals are rare. Only nobles or cultivators carry them."
"Exactly. That's the problem." Jinmu's voice dipped with frustration.
She stared at the food. At the clean floor.
"…Then I owe you more than my life," she said softly.
Jinmu blinked.
"…That's a bit dramatic."
But in her eyes, he saw no joke, only the weight of a woman who had lost everything and stepped unknowingly into the last light left in her world.
Seo Mira placed the last grain of rice into her mouth and set the bowl down with care. She looked up at Jinmu, who stood silently by the counter, arms crossed.
"I've… saved up over a hundred Crystals," she said, voice quiet. "Twelve years of killing. I was saving it for when I retired."
He said nothing, his expression unreadable.
"But… in this world now?" She shook her head. "Money means nothing if you're dead."
Still, he didn't speak.
She studied him. "So… how do I use the game?"
Jinmu turned slightly and motioned toward one of the VR chairs.
"Sit," he said. "Put on the helmet. It'll sync to your nerves. Movement will be natural. If you die in the game, you'll be ejected. You won't die in reality."
"No pain?"
"You'll feel it," he said. "It doesn't block psychological damage. But you'll live."
Seo Mira nodded. "Understood."
She walked over and sat down. The leather was smooth—absurdly clean. She slid on the helmet and leaned back. The chair adjusted itself, humming softly.
[Crystal detected. Starting The Forest – Tier 1 Simulation.]
Only Jinmu saw it.
[New User Detected. Scanning talent…]
[Talent: A+]
[Overall Strength: C Rank]
[Recommended access: Tier 1 mentality.]
[Note: User shows high psychological resilience.]
'A+ talent,' Jinmu thought. 'She's above average.'
Still, his expression didn't change.
She wasn't the first person to pass by his base. Over the past week, travelers, scavengers, and low-level mercenaries had come and gone. Most took one look at the prices—1 Crystal per hour—and scoffed.
"Who the hell would waste a Crystal to play a game?"
"Is this guy a joke?"
Some spat on the glass. Others just cursed under their breath and left.
But Jinmu didn't argue. He didn't lower his prices. He didn't explain.
He just sat behind the counter, eyes half-lidded, waiting. And now… finally, someone had stepped in.
He watched as Mira's body relaxed in the chair, breath slowing.
[Simulation link established.]
'Let's see what you can do,' Jinmu thought coldly, eyes on the screen only he could see.
The VR helmet clicked softly into place over Seo Mira's head. The chair reclined. The moment her consciousness sank into the simulation, the monitor above the terminal blinked to life—projecting her perspective.
Jinmu's cold eyes didn't leave the screen.
On it: a cramped airplane cabin.
Seo Mira blinked rapidly, disoriented. Her hands, small, soft, civilian hands, gripped the seat handles beside her. A boy sat next to her, maybe six or seven, munching on a snack.
Her eyes widened.
'What… is this? A flying… cart?'
Then—
Turbulence.
Screams.
"Waahhh!!"
The cabin shook violently, and in an instant, the world turned upside down. A blinding crash. Screeching metal. Blackout.
When vision returned, she was on the forest floor.
Flames. Wreckage. Smoke. The boy beside her disappeared.
A figure covered in red paint crouched over him, then turned and walked away, disappearing into the shadows with the child in his arms.
Her pulse pounded in her ears.
And then—
A rush of foreign knowledge flooded her brain.
'Plane. Passenger. Son. Timmy. Emergency axe. Survival.'
Information she had never encountered began rewriting her instinct. Her memories twisted to accommodate this strange technology—campfires, medicine, hunger meters. It should've been overwhelming.
But Seo Mira didn't panic.
She breathed in. Out.
Her mind, honed by twelve years on the battlefield didn't shatter.
'So… this is a game?' she thought, taking cautious steps among the wreckage.
Then she felt it, rising from the earth, flowing subtly through her virtual body.
Qi.
But not just any Qi.
It was clean. Pure. Smooth like silk and sharp like wind. It surged through her dantian, and her eyes shot wide open in shock.
'This... this Qi! it's not tainted by blood or corruption. It's like... drawing breath for the first time!'
She could feel her meridians open wider, more receptive.
She gripped the rusty axe near a corpse and turned toward the forest.
...
Outside, Jinmu remained seated behind the counter. His arms were still crossed. The flickering screen bathed his face in pale blue light.
"She's absorbing it," he murmured under his breath, just once.
[A+ Talent – High Mental Absorption Trait Confirmed.]
'If she keeps playing,' he thought coldly, 'this place might finally draw attention.'
But he didn't smile. He didn't celebrate.
He just waited, watching the screen as Mira stepped into The Forest, ready to survive.