The sky was sealed in iron-gray clouds—thick, low, unmoving. No sun, no blue, only layers of shadow pressing down from above.
Below, the sea rolled in slow, uneven swells, not with rhythm but with weight. Deep gray water dragged itself forward, scattering foam the color of ash. The waves carried no scent of salt, only a dry, metallic tang that hung in the air.
The sand was wrong too—not golden, not warm, just an endless stretch of dust-colored grit, untouched by footprints and lightless beneath the sky.
Gray palms lined the edge of the shore, their trunks leaning at odd angles. The leaves drooped like strips of old cloth, limp and drained of color. No birds. No crabs. No sound but the sea.
And yet—a small fire was burning near the center of the beach. It had been lit for some time, and its glow flickered across the faces of two boys nearby.
One sat cross-legged in the sand, his blond hair tousled by the wind. Chin resting in his palm, his gaze was unfocused—not on the fire, not on anything around it. His thoughts had drifted far from the beach, immersed in another world entirely.
The other lay flat on his back across from him, arms loose at his sides, brown hair ruffled by the same wind. He was still asleep—breathing slow, untouched by the cold, the silence, or the sea.
Then, slowly, the blond boy blinked, his eyes sharpening—as if returning from somewhere far beyond the beach. His gaze drifted across the fire and settled on the boy lying opposite him.
And then, within his sight alone, something began to rise.
From the center of the brown-haired boy's chest, a translucent head slowly emerged—a girl's, delicate and ghostly pale, with long black hair trailing behind her in thin, weightless strands.
Her features were finely carved, unnaturally sharp in the firelight: an elegant jawline, smooth and flawless skin. A stillness hung about her, like glass suspended in water.
Only her head was visible—everything else remained hidden within the brown-haired boy's body. And the ghostly girl could be seen by no one but the blond boy.
The blond boy gave a crooked grin, his voice light with mischief.
"Well, well, look who showed up. Let me guess—you two had a fight."
The ghostly girl immediately frowned. "We didn't fight!" she snapped, clearly annoyed. "We were having a great time!"
To anyone else, it might have looked like a small burst of anger—but in the blond boy's eyes, her expression instantly morphed into a tiny cartoon scowl:
<(｀^´)>
Adorable.
Still, she would never show that side to anyone but the brown-haired boy—not even to the blond one watching her now. So you'd need a bit of imagination to catch how adorable she really was.
He leaned in slightly, grinning wider. "Oh? What were you playing that was so fun? Come on, tell me~"
Of course, the blond boy already had a good idea of what those two were doing in the dream. A boy and a girl, alone in their own world? Please.
Their bodies might be sixteen, but their souls? They were anything but sixteen—and never had been.
Sure, he knew what they were up to. But that didn't mean he'd just let it go. A little mischief here and there kept things from getting too dull.
She rolled her eyes. "Not joking with you. He's about to wake up. You'd better fake sleep now."
He shrugged and said, "I know my brother's tastes better than anyone. Let me be your advisor."
She looked mildly annoyed and said, "I don't need your advice. Go find someone else to pester."
The blond boy gave a helpless shrug. "Alright then. What a shame."
She reminded him again, "You'd better start pretending to sleep. He's really about to wake up."
He didn't seem the least bit concerned—instead, he chuckled. "Let him wake. Even if he knows, he'll just act like he doesn't. My brother's not a kid."
"You're no fun at all," she said, her voice full of impatience. "If you're going to play, then at least take it seriously and have some sense of immersion!"
He sighed, then gave in. "Fine, fine. I'll fake it. Right now."
Without another word, the blond boy lay back onto the gray sand. In less than a second, he was truly asleep—body and mind fully surrendering to rest.
Not long after, Elo's awareness surfaced slowly, like rising through cold, murky water.
At first, there was no sight or sound—only a vague sense of being. A breeze touched his skin. Cold. Damp. Heavy. It pressed in like wet cloth.
Then, a hint of warmth. Flickering and faint, scattered like dying embers—close, but not touching. Something was near.
A scent followed. Not blood, not rot, not the aftermath of battle. It was worse for being unfamiliar: thick, still, and lifeless. Like the breath of something long dead. It clung to him, sank into his lungs, as if the world itself had stopped breathing.
Finally, a System window burst open in his mind—too bright to ignore:
[Heart of the Strong Lv1 — Activated!]
And just like that, full consciousness slammed in.
That damn skill made it impossible to stay half-asleep—once it activated, it forcefully snapped his mind to full awareness, cutting off any chance of lingering in that hazy in-between state.
Before he could even open his eyes, a system window snapped into place:
[Alert: Unknown individuals detected nearby. Before regaining full vision, please review the following information.]
[1. Your current identity is: Fisherman. The original owner of this body died at sea during a typhoon.]
[2. For a detailed profile, see: System: Grand Archive > Elo's Data > Game Character > Slot 2 Fisherman.]
[3. You have permission to rename this character. Once confirmed, the entire system will adjust accordingly—official IDs, government records, public databases, and even the memories of people who know you will all reflect the new identity.]
[4. Your sister, Vian, is currently nearby. Status: Pretending to be unconscious. In reality: Actively engaged in gameplay.]
[5. To prevent exposure of your real identity, the system will automatically activate: Heart of the Strong Lv1, Transcendent Acting Lv1.]
A flood of information surged into Elo's soul—not his mind. Without needing to think, he understood everything instantly.
A moment later, a question surfaced in his mind: Why was Vian here?
He opened the system chat and fired off a message: [What the hell's going on? Why are you here?]
Vian replied instantly: [Whoa—you're awake!?]
Elo didn't waste time on pleasantries: [Get to the point. What's the situation?]
Vian answered with a sighing emoji—the kind you send when your older brother is being a pain:
ε=(´ο＿´*)))
[You've been missing for days. Mom got worried, so she sent me.]
Before he could reply, another message appeared: [The system says this is your second game character. What happened to your first one? What exactly went wrong?]
Elo stared at the screen for a moment, then sent back the flattest emoji he could find:
(ㅍ_ㅍ)
Elo had no doubt—Vian and their mother had known what was going on from the very beginning. So this act she was putting on in chat? She was just playing dumb.
He typed back: [I'm not trying to dig into it. But don't take me for a fool.]
Vian responded with an apologetic emoticon:
(✿◡‿◡)
Then, Elo received another message: [We all felt like… things weren't looking so great if they kept going this way.]
Elo blinked, confused. [What do you mean?]
Vian replied without hesitation: [Your first character was a slave, meant to start at the bottom and live through as many experiences as possible.But because of all those cheats you kept using, the whole story fell apart. You skipped the middle and jumped straight to being the "Enemy of the Gods."]
[It's not about the broken storyline. It's about why you wanted to start this journey at all. Bro, seriously—that kind of playstyle? Zero immersion.]
Faced with that, Elo didn't even know what to say. He sent back an emoji:
(⊙x⊙;)
Vian followed up immediately:
[What we mean is—it's time to set some rules. No cheating unless it's absolutely necessary. And when is it necessary? Let the system decide. Sound fair?]
Elo stared at that last part. Let the system decide? Yeah, right. He didn't believe that for a second. It was never the system making those calls—it was Vian, Mom, and most of all, [Her].
[What if someone bullies us? I say we should cheat. But the system says no. Then what are we supposed to do?]
Vian replied instantly: [Cheat. Beat the hell out of them.]
For just an instant, Elo felt something warm rise quietly in his chest.
Then the next message came:
[We're not here to suffer, okay? If the NPCs break the rules first, then yeah—we'll treat them with an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.]
[We just… just want you to experience more. Not just the wins. But everything in between.]
[The strangers you meet. The warmth that fades too fast. The laughter, the tension, the confusion. The trust—and the betrayal. The ones who stay, and the ones who don't. All of it. That's life. That's what we came here for.]
[We're not hoping you'll suffer. What we want... is for you to truly live it. Even the regrets—even the imperfect moments—can become part of something precious. We just don't want you to skip it all, right from the start.]
[One day, you'll look back. And we want you to remember more than just the outcome. That's why we said—don't cheat without reason. Don't let this journey pass you by.]
Elo's soul gave a quiet sigh, then replied:
[You can say that now, but if a good friend dies—won't you feel sad? Are we really just going to watch them die? We have the power to help, but we don't reach out—won't you feel guilty?]
Vian replied without a second thought:
[So what if the body dies? The soul stays. And even if the soul's gone, so what? The System can bring them back. Death's not an end for us—it's just an intermission.]
[We'll have the system send them to Ark Little World. They won't appear in your storyline for now. But if you want to see them, you can always go home and visit. No one will stop you from doing that.]
Elo stared at the screen, thinking. He still had many concerns, but they didn't really matter.
Because these rules—They weren't made by the system. They were made by his family. And if something went wrong, they could just change the rules.
No one ever said the rules couldn't be changed. Especially not when it's family. The rules didn't matter. The people did.
Elo paused, then finally replied:
[Fine. We'll go with your plan—for now. If anything doesn't make sense, we'll change it.]
Vian's reply popped up instantly:
٩(๑>◡<๑)۶
With a soft chime, a new notification appeared on the screen:
[New App Detected: Game-Life Simulator]
[Would you like to enable the Game-Life Simulator?]
[YES?]
[NO?]
Below that, a short description auto-loaded:
[Game-Life Simulator]
A module that adjusts your character's power based on your actions—not by stats, but by whether things appear logically realistic.
When do you get stronger?
1: Ate a rare elixir? → Reasonable. Boost granted.
2: Survived a life-or-death event? → Mental strength improved.
3: Spent time learning a skill? Even if you didn't truly master it, as long as it looks like you tried → the system unlocks the skill over time.
4: Killed monsters? → You get EXP, but repeat grinding gives less and less.
5: Loot drop? → Nope. You only get what a monster would realistically have.
When do you get weaker?
1: Suffered serious injury? → Movement restricted. Stats drop.
2: Mentally unstable or emotionally collapsed? → Power declines until you recover.
💡 For more details, please refer to the [Game-Life Simulator User Manual.]
⚠️ Reminder:
This isn't real life—it's a Game Life.
The system doesn't demand actual realism—just that it looks believable.
When it came to the question of yes or no—Elo let out a quiet sigh in his soul, and chose: YES.