Foxgames: “The wait is over. We’re finally open!”

    The long-awaited online game Monster Park by Foxgames was finally launching.

    Though they called it a game, it was more like a text-based simulation, and I didn’t expect something so rudimentary to thrive.

    Frankly, I thought it’d be more worthwhile to read a book or learn new farming techniques or construction methods on AntWiki.

    A phrase from a pre-war psychiatrist came to mind:

    "Thinking that the world dislikes something just because you do is a common delusion among people who feel out of sync with society."

    [Queue: 53,231 players]

    "..."

    That’s the message that greeted me when I leisurely logged in after finishing my daily chores.

    Over 50,000 people were waiting, endlessly refreshing their screens in an act of sheer patience, desperate to access a chunk of text.

    Foxgames: “So sorry! We honestly didn’t expect this many players. Luckily, a board user who wants to remain anonymous offered to help with the servers. Just give us one day, and we’ll open the gates wide!”

    The obsession with the lost joy of online gaming was intense.

    It seemed people longed for any game, any medium that allowed them to "hunt together," level up, and experience camaraderie again.

    "Just a form of escapism," I muttered.

    I was chatting with Da-jeong over the comms.

    "No matter how bleak reality is, seeing yourself level up and grow stronger in an online game makes you feel good, doesn’t it? And if that strength in the game can translate to real-world benefits, even better."

    "Hm..."

    "Skelton, I’m guessing you’ve never played online games before, right?"

    "Correct."

    "Kinda figured. What did you do for fun before the war?"

    "Not sure."

    Looking back, the concept of "fun" barely existed for me.

    I understood the need for rest, but it was always framed as preparation for the next battle. Pure recreation, as others might define it, was almost nonexistent in my life.

    "Beatboxing?"

    "There it is again, the beatboxing."

    Despite being friends, Da-jeong and I didn’t talk much.

    Our conversations were rare, brief, and often focused on one topic before ending quickly.

    Usually, this would’ve been the point where the conversation stopped.

    But today, Da-jeong seemed to want to talk more.

    "Hah..."

    Her sigh came through the speaker, soft but heavy.

    It seemed like she wanted me to ask something. Still, according to our unspoken rules, I stayed silent.

    "Skelton."

    "Yeah?"

    "You don’t have a girlfriend, do you?"

    "Should I?"

    "No, let me rephrase that. You’ve never had a girlfriend, right?"

    "Correct."

    "Never felt anything for me?"

    "What answer are you looking for?"

    "Sometimes, I think..."

    Her voice wavered, as if she were unnerved.@@@@

    "Skelton, you’re kind of... different from normal people."

    "I don’t think you’re in a position to say that."

    "Fair point. But don’t you ever want to meet someone and live happily ever after?"

    "I guess everyone has that desire deep down."

    "Then why don’t you have anyone you like?"

    Someone I like.

    For a fleeting moment, Na Hye-in’s face crossed my mind.

    "No one."

    "What about me?"

    "Is something going on over there?"

    When someone starts acting out of character, it’s usually a sign of unfavorable changes in their environment.

    "Sigh. You really are sharp, aren’t you?"

    Da-jeong sighed again.

    "My brother brought in Heo Jong-chul—that perverted freak."

    "Heo Jong-chul? That walking nuke?"

    "Even though I told him I hated the guy, he insisted. Now he’s here, babbling nonsense like, ‘Universal education ruined this country. The world’s broken because everyone gets educated!’ He’s unbearable."

    "Sounds rough."

    "Skelton, forget what I said earlier. Want to play a game together later?"

    "A game?"

    "The one by Foxgames."

    "I’ll think about it."

    As it happens, I’d been gifted a special account by Foxgames.

    Although I hadn’t logged in yet due to server issues, the account was supposedly "unique," offering special perks unavailable to others.

    A pearl necklace on a pig, perhaps.

    The irony of someone like me, who didn’t even like games, receiving such an account wasn’t lost on me.

    Meanwhile, the person who arranged for this account was wreaking havoc on the boards.

    Anonymous1523: “Hey, you filthy beggars. In Jeju, we’re living like it’s pre-war. Servers run smoothly, there’s fewer people, and everyone’s civilized. It’s great. But you mainland scum? Flocking to some text-based excuse for a game, 50,000 of you? Pathetic. Makes me sick.”

    Main Building – Western Wing

    Overgrown vines covered the iron mesh surrounding crumbling ruins.

    Below, a mutated cat, Street Angel, glared at me.

    From here, I could move:

    (East) (West) (South) (North)

    Tatatatak.

    Attack the mutated cat.

    You attacked Street Angel!

    You inflicted 10 damage with your military rifle!Ammo -3! (27 remaining)Street Angel retaliated with sharp claws, dealing 4 damage!Additional 1 damage from Super Toxoplasma infection!

    Tatatatak.

    Check status.

    Status: Jonnae-non''s Apprentice (30cm)

    Level: 8

    Class: Rookie Hunter

    Strength: 5

    Agility: 8

    Intelligence: 1

    Charisma: 30

    "..."

    I wasn’t enjoying it.

    To be fair, I had never played or enjoyed online games before.

    And I’m not the type to jump on the bandwagon just because others are doing something.

    As I stared blankly at the game screen, Da-jeong contacted me.

    "Skelton, are you playing Monster Park? Send me your account name so I can friend you."

    "I tried it for a bit, but it doesn’t seem fun."

    "Really?"

    "Yeah. I don’t think I’ll keep playing."

    "Then can I borrow your account? I’ll use it as a storage character."

    "..."

    "Skelton? Why aren’t you saying anything?"

    "Uh, I don’t think so."

    "Skelton..."

    Da-jeong seemed upset, but my late parents always told me never to lend out accounts or financial details—not even to family.

    And so, that marked the end of my brief adventure in Monster Park.

    Despite receiving an overpowered account, I quit the game in less than a day.

    That decision was entirely mine, and it was a predictable outcome.

    What I hadn’t foreseen, however, was the problem that followed.

    By not playing the hottest game of the moment, I naturally became alienated from the board’s main conversations.

    I was no different from Anonymous1532.

    It was inevitable.

    An unstoppable current had formed.

    Everyone was playing the game. Everyone was talking about the game.

    Gone were the personal stories, serialized posts, and unique content that had provided comfort and joy on the board for three years.

    Perhaps the board would return to its former state once the game’s popularity waned.

    But judging by its current momentum, it was impossible to predict when that might happen.

    "..."

    Call it a sense of detachment or loneliness—I wasn’t sure what I was feeling as I reached out to Rebecca.

    "Hey, Rebecca. Are you coming or not? Winter’s almost here."

    The reply came not from Rebecca, but from Sue.

    "Skelton, Mom’s gaming."

    "What? What game?"

    Feeling a bad premonition, I asked.

    Sue sighed deeply, then replied bitterly.

    "Monster Park."

    "..."

    "It’ll take a while. She’s really into it."

    "Got it. Sue, let me know if anything comes up."

    "Okay, Skelton. Next time, something juicy."

    "Sure thing."

    After ending the call with Sue, I returned my gaze to the board.

    ?? : "Lol, got a rare item!"

    Anonymous423: "Looking for party members—anyone but thieves!"

    Defender: "Who stole my last hit? I’m coming for you!"

    ?? : "How do you beat the mid-boss on the 3rd floor of the Crystal Tomb?"

    Berkut_Break: "This game’s like a MUD with a polished surface. Could pass for AAA quality."

    ?? : "Raid boss on the 4th floor depths! Let’s go!"

    The endless flood of posts, none of which interested me, continued.

    Whirr—

    Scrolling through the screen, I searched for something worth reading, but found nothing.

    "..."

    For the first time, I felt truly alienated on this board.

    Fate, however, has a strange sense of humor.

    Just as I was about to stop scrolling, I stumbled upon a kindred spirit—a user whose situation mirrored mine.

    Anonymous1532: "Tonight’s dinner (feat. duck barbecue)."

    Without thinking, I bookmarked Anonymous1532 as a favorite user.

    Why?

    Maybe because he was the only one not talking about the game.

    I set it so I’d receive an alert whenever he posted.

    Soon enough, the alerts came—not just one, but several.

    Anonymous1532: "This is so boring... Is your life really that fun?"

    Anonymous1532: "What’s so great about this? What’s so fun about it?"

    Anonymous1532: "Damn it... I want to go back to Jeju... ??"

    As I read those posts, I pictured the man behind the monitor.

    His face was probably pale, his health good, his skin unwrinkled.

    His expression would be smug or arrogant.

    But perhaps, like me, he stared at the board with soulless eyes, scrolling aimlessly, craving attention to fill the void.