Meanwhile—
Far away from the Beginner's Forest,in reality ,not in game, inside the head office of Eternal Arcana of Magic, a silent room suddenly became very loud without anyone saying a word.
The Achievement Management Team— a small but powerful unit consisting of one chief and two subordinates— was staring at the main control screen.
A notification had just appeared.
〈Blood Rose Garden in Beginner's Forest has been destroyed〉
〈Responsible Player: NoName〉
"…."
No one spoke.
No one could speak.
Killing even a single Blood Rose was already considered an absurd achievement. The Blood Rose Garden was infamous—
its curse distorted nearby nature, attracted dangerous entities, and made even veteran players hesitate.
And now—
Someone had wiped out the entire garden.
Not over time.
Not strategically.
But completely.
And the player responsible was—
'NoName'.
The one and only 'NoName'.
Cheating was not even a question.
It could not be cheating.
NoName already possessed a history filled with ridiculous, rule-defying feats across multiple games— often achieved with less-than-average playtime.
Silence stretched.
Finally, one of the subordinates swallowed and spoke, his voice hollow.
"…Chief. Should we release this achievement publicly?"
The chief leaned back slowly, fingers interlocked, eyes never leaving the screen.
"No," he said after a pause. "Not yet."
Both subordinates turned toward him.
"This is the biggest achievement in the Beginner's Forest so far," the chief continued calmly. "But we'll wait until NoName leaves the Beginner's Forest."
He tapped the desk once.
"And notify the Development Team, Promotional Team, and Marketing Team."
"Tell them," he added, "to keep a close eye on NoName's gameplay."
"Yes, sir," the subordinate replied immediately.
He turned and left the room at a brisk pace.
A few minutes later, he reached the resting area, where members of the development, promotional, and marketing teams were scattered around— some sitting, some standing, all visibly exhausted.
Ever since NoName logged in, the entire building had been in chaos.
Overtime had started barely half an hour ago, yet patience was already running thin. Any new detail about NoName's actions could send the game's popularity soaring to unprecedented heights.
One of the promotional team members noticed the subordinate approaching.
Seeing his pale face and defeated expression, he laughed lightly.
"Don't tell me NoName died right after leaving the Beginner's Forest," he joked.
"You know how brutal that place is— even for gaming monsters like him."
The subordinate stopped in front of them.
Took a deep breath.
And said quietly—
"NoName has destroyed the Blood Rose Garden."
He paused.
"…And he hasn't even left the Beginner's Forest yet."
"…."
The resting area went dead silent.
Mouths opened.
Then closed.
No words came out.
Meanwhile—
Back in the Beginner's Forest, completely unaware that multiple teams were questioning reality itself—
Ekant had been wandering for about ten minutes.
He frowned slightly.
"…Why can't I find any monsters?"
Then his nose twitched.
A faint, familiar scent drifted through the air.
Salty.
Fresh.
"…Ocean?" he muttered.
Curious, he followed the scent.
After walking for about three minutes, the forest opened up.
Sand stretched ahead.
And beyond it—about a hundred meters away—the ocean shimmered under the sky.
Ekant approached casually.
A system notification appeared.
〈You have entered a Safe Zone〉
〈Safe Zone Width: 20 meters〉
〈Safe Zone Length: !?!?… meters〉
The length was not specified.
No one was foolish enough to try measuring it.
"Oh," Ekant said. "I am in a safe zone again."
Then—
Reality hit him like a truck.
"Oh shit."
His eyes widened.
"I forgot to eat dinner."
"And my medicines."
Panic replaced curiosity instantly.
"Log me out," he said without hesitation.
The world faded.
And just like that—
The player who had shaken an entire corporation logged out because he forgot his meds.
---
Ekant opened his eyes.
The soft ceiling light greeted him first.
The bed pod had already disengaged and slid back automatically. As per its design, it had sent a silent signal through a small monitoring device— alerting family members if the player logged out while not being nearby.
But in Ekant's case, that feature was unnecessary.
Because everyone was already there.
His mother stood near the doorway.
His father was sitting on the chair beside the bed.
And Tiyan—
Tiyan was at Ekant's study table, books open, pretending to study while glancing over every few seconds.
Ekant realized something immediately.
'…I played longer than I thought.'
It had been about an hour.
As if on cue, his mother walked in carrying a tray.
"You woke up just in time," she said softly.
"It's time for dinner and your medicines."
The food was light.
Healthy.
Soft enough to melt in the mouth the moment it touched the tongue.
They didn't ask him about the game.
Not even once.
They knew better.
He wasn't supposed to talk much yet— only a few words at most.
So instead of questions, they moved straight to care.
Ekant lifted his thumb slightly.
A silent nod.
They noticed.
His father immediately stood up and carefully helped him sit up— not fully, just his upper body— supporting him with a pillow so there was no strain.
His mother pulled the small table closer.
Then she began feeding him.
Slowly.
Very slowly.
Ekant chewed at what felt like 0.10× speed, focusing with ridiculous seriousness on not moving his jaw too much.
For water, they used a straw.
Carefully.
Patiently.
After that came the medicine.
One by one.
Once everything was done, Ekant felt a gentle heaviness settle over him—not pain, just exhaustion.
Tiyan closed his book and stood up.
"Don't play anymore tonight," he said seriously.
"Sleep is important."
Ekant glanced at him.
Tiyan continued, lowering his voice.
"It's not recommended for patients to play too much. After logging out, your brain still thinks the world is real."
He paused.
"People forget."
It was true.
VR technology had evolved to the point where even someone without an arm or leg could fully experience movement inside the game.
That update—released twenty years ago—had been revolutionary.
But the brain didn't forget easily.
Many players, after logging out, instinctively tried to move as if they were still inside the game.
Sometimes—
They fell.
After hearing his brother's words, Ekant didn't argue.
He simply nodded again.
The lights were dimmed.
The room grew quiet.
Wrapped in warmth, care, and a world that loved him—
Ekant closed his eyes.
And went to sleep.
Unaware that while he rested—
An entire virtual world was already adjusting itself around his name.