A chubby young man sat in his gaming chair, surrounded by empty soda cans and junk food.
The true quality of a champion. Well, at least in the virtual world.
His eyes were bloodshot from another all-night gaming session, fingers twitching over the keyboard as he conquered another city.
In the game, he was someone—a top-tier leader who had led his empire to become one of the most powerful in Asia.
But in real life, he was just Luck—the overweight, broke kid who hadn't left his apartment in days.
His only connection to the outside world was a delivery app—and the occasional angry knock.
Knock! Knock! Knock!
Oh great, there it was again.
"Luck, open up!" His landlord shouted, pounding on the door.
He didn't want to move. Maybe if he ignored it, the problem would just disappear like the enemies on his screen.
Another knock. Harder this time.
"I know you're in there. Get your fat ass out of here!"
'Fat? Judgmental old man, I'm just a bit on the heavy side,' he grumbled to himself, fingers still furiously clicking at the keyboard.
He wasn't about to let some rent-collecting tyrant ruin his victory.
So what if the landlord legally owned the building?
So what if he paid the taxes and busted his ass to build "generational wealth"?
Luck didn't give a damn.
"I know you're there! Open the door! You're three months behind on rent!"
'Tsk,'
His shoulders sagged, and he slouched back in his chair, staring at the screen as though it could somehow save him from the mess he was in.
The knock came again.
"Shit." He groaned, dragging himself up. His knees popped as he stood, and for a moment, the room spun because of his sudden movement.
"I'm coming, I'm coming," he muttered lazily.
His reflection in the mirror didn't help his mood—disheveled jet-black hair, dark circles under his pitch-black eyes, and a shirt that had once been white but was now brown.
Especially the collar region, which had turned dark, as if it had been burned in a fire.
How did this happen? Better not to ask.
He opened the door just enough to see Mr. Yamagi's furious face.
"Three months!. I've given you three months! You either pay up or you're out by the end of the week."
Luck scratched his neck, trying to look as casual as possible. "Yeah, I know...but like...I've been busy, you know, with very important stuff."
"Very important? You mean sitting around playing video games all day and ignoring reality?" The landlord snapped, his voice rising alongside his blood pressure.
"Chill, Mr. Yamagi. You might give yourself a heart attack,"
"Heart attack? Come on. Look at your fat ass—you're way more likely to have a stroke than me!"
Luck sighed. "Mr. Yamagi, you really shouldn't be throwing words like that around. The world's more progressive now, you know?"
Yamagi shot back, "Doesn't matter—we're in Asia."
"I…" He stumbled, lost for words. Yeah, that was about as solid an answer as he was going to get.
"You've got until Sunday to get your act together, or you'll find yourself sleeping on the street."
He forced a grin. "How about I give you some in-game currency? Worth a fortune in the right hands."
Mr. Yamagi stared at him.
"Don't push it." He turned and stomped away
As the door clicked shut, Luck returned to his chair, staring at his game.
He glanced over at the stack of bills piling up on his desk. There wasn't a single yen to his name.
'This suck.' He sighed, rubbing his temples.
'Bills, rent, and problems... they could at least take turns.'
His fingers twitched. Maybe he could sell some of his in-game items to make quick cash.
Some rare items in his inventory could fetch a decent price from desperate noobs eager to power up.
'Who am I kidding?'
The so-called "noobs" were probably adults with stable jobs, decent paychecks, and zero time to grind—so they just threw real money at the game to get ahead.
'Forget it,' he muttered, shaking off the thoughts and focusing back on his screen.
It transported players to a bizarre world where historical figures, legendary warriors, kings, and even mythical beings could be recruited as troops.
A crazy idea for a game, sure, but it was addicting. He would spent countless hours grinding his way through battles, upgrading his territory, and collecting legendary avatars.
Right now, he was one of the most formidable players in the country, known for his skill in economics, warfare, and diplomacy.
He carefully plotted ways to expand his territory, teaming up with others and managing resources wisely to keep his kingdom going strong.
Then he would rally his army and launch his conquests, gaining a reputation as the "Cunning King" because of his habit of betraying his allies whenever it suited him.
'Time to check my empire,' he chuckled inwardly, trying to ignore the fact that he was going to be evicted.
After all, what's a little eviction when you're the supreme overlord of a virtual kingdom?
The screen flickered, showing a huge map of his empire, all lit up with the flags of lands he conquered.
His heart beat a little faster as he looked over the results of the latest battle. Checking through the options, he tried to figure out his next move.
[Take City]
[Pillage City]
[Do Nothing]
'Yeah, pillaging's the best move,'
It would give him a quick resource boost, and he wouldn't have to worry about the logistics of running a city.
He leaned into his mic, slipping into character.
"Soldiers! Victory is at hand! The treasures of this city belong to us! Pillage, and take what's yours! Leave no mercy!"
He grinned, imagining their cheers. His heart raced with the excitement of leading his army to glory.
"Now go forth and claim our destiny!" he shouted, feeling every bit of the charismatic and intellectual commander.
Few minutes later...
[Pillaging Complete]
"That was sick!" He threw his hands in the air, and leaned back with a satisfied grin.
'Time for a well-deserved break.' Standing up, he headed to the fridge.
'I need to finish that pizza before it mutates,' he joked, pulling open the door.
Inside, the slice waited—sad and a little moldy.
"Eh, food's food." With a shrug, he tossed it into the microwave and hit start.
'Sixty degrees Celsius kills bacteria, right?' he told himself, choosing optimism over science.
Ding!
He pulled the door open and took a bite without even waiting for it too cool down.
The moldy taste was… interesting, like he was eating an old sock. He pushed through anyway, because he didn't have another choice.
'Not bad… not bad at all,' he lied to himself.
Then he slumped onto the dirty couch with a can of beer in his hand.
Click!
He flipped through channels, settling on a nature documentary. 'Let's watch something that makes me feel better about being lazy.'
The narrator's voice droned on about sloths, and his eyelids grew heavier.
'Just gonna close my eyes for a minute.'
But with the beer and the boring show, that minute turned into a full nap.