The experience of mobile gamers may vary, but there’s a common response to a particular question.
Q: Is this game a masterpiece?
A: No, it’s trash. Don’t bother playing it, lol.
If this type of answer pops up, it often means the game, despite polarizing opinions, is making a reasonable profit.
To someone, it’s a “masterpiece.”
However, if a game is genuinely bad, has too few players, or is approaching server shutdown, a different phrase often circulates:
– Don’t quit~, or the game will die without you!
This indicates every player is precious.
The concurrent player count is so low that keeping the server running is a financial loss.
Even if individual players spend as much as they can, game companies need substantial funds to operate.
Thus, gamers often hope their game becomes a hit.
Even if newcomers cause trouble or arguments, they’d prefer that over the same 50 usernames greeting each other with “Oh, you’re here again today… hehe.”
This led to an online tale.
– That person is a goddess who descended from the heavens to save our game.
Regarding Maid cosplayer, gamers began to sing her praises one by one.
Not only the game developers but also the players dreamed of S-rank Hunters cosplaying characters from their games.
Why?
Sometimes, just 30 new players joining is a blessing for a game.
Especially for games that were once popular.
But that hope was dashed.
– The goddess belongs to Npia, lol.
– Elaine is a dedicated cosplayer, so don’t even try.
– If it’s an Npia game, I guess we’ll have to play it…
When Elaine was revealed to portray “Secretary Elaine” during S-rank Tower raids, the hopes of gamers elsewhere began to fade.
Ah, so the Perfect Maid cosplayer enjoys character cosplay, but only for games like [Granade Impact: Redive].
Even if she cosplays another game, it’s likely one of Npia’s titles, such as [Fermata 8X].
Faced with this realization, gamers slowly gave up hope.
There are two S-rank Towers in Korea.
One in Dokdo and one in Jeju Island.
Unless someone swims across the sea, sneaks past in the shadows, or takes a stealthy boat, their identity is bound to be revealed. Dokdo is a remote island, heavily monitored by warships guarding the S-rank Tower.
If someone swims toward it, the navy would notice first.
What about Jeju Island?
Whether by plane, boat, or swimming, it feels more accessible.
The question arises: would Elaine debut a new cosplay there? Perhaps in a swimsuit-themed version of her character? If she did, game companies—or even the government—might approach her, and her true identity could be exposed.
In the meantime…
Busan, BEXCO.
A venue once bustling with cosplay events and gaming expos, now silent.
Standing tall toward the sky was the A-rank Tower.
At the tower’s entrance stood a woman.
She wore a black windbreaker-like jacket and held a gun in her hand.
If not for the orange-tipped barrel, it might have been mistaken for a real firearm.
She seemed to be waiting for something. Soon, another group approached her.
“Hello!”
With lively smiles, the women—each carrying their own firearms—approached the woman with the gun.
“Excuse me, are you cosplaying as ‘Agent 4577’?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Oh my, your voice is amazing…! I thought you were ‘Mama’ instead of Agent 4577!”
“……..”
“Ah, sorry about that. Shall we take a picture together?”
The woman cosplaying Agent 4577 gave a wry smile at being called “Mama,” but soon joined the others, flashing a “V” sign and smiling toward the camera.
Click.
“I’m sorry for bringing this up so suddenly. It’s just… with the rumors of our game shutting down…”
“I know. That’s actually why I came here in cosplay.”
“Really? Me too! Luckily, the costume I made three years ago didn’t deteriorate in storage. I almost missed the chance to commemorate the game’s final days.”
The woman holding a rifle adjusted her slightly revealing outfit, shivering.
“It was such a masterpiece of a game. But when they started making a sequel, everything fell apart because of the Towers…”
“…….”
“Even though it was already a budget-friendly game that didn’t make a ton of money, it was beloved. The company wasn’t raking in huge profits, but all we could do to help was buy gacha tickets or packages.”
“I see.”
“Where will our game go now? It’s such a shame to lose all these characters.”
“May I ask you something?”
Agent 4577’s golden eyes gleamed as she spoke.
“Huh?”
“If a Hunter were to cosplay and raid the Tower, would it help the game company?”
“That would depend… on who the Hunter is.”
“What about an S-rank Hunter?”
“…W-well.”
The cosplayers who had just taken a picture with Agent 4577 shook their heads slightly.
“Elaine cosplaying as 4577 here… wait, huh?”
Some of the cosplayers suddenly noticed.
“Why does the chest armor look…?”
When cosplaying certain characters, some cosplayers can’t match specific physical traits, leading them to abandon the idea or adapt the cosplay.
With Agent 4577, many cosplayers struggled with the chest armor, often feeling frustrated or opting for alternative interpretations.
The electronic warfare module of Agent 4577, known for its exaggerated and distorted proportions, seemed to manipulate visual data—creating an illusion of size so massive it felt unreal.
Was this an optical trick caused by the electronic warfare?
No.
Cosplayers, familiar with props and costumes, could easily distinguish between artificial enhancements like padding, silicone, or natural features.
The chest armor of Agent 4577’s electronic warfare module was unmistakably “real”.
It matched the flawless detail of Elaine’s Maid cosplay.
“Um, excuse me…!”
“Yes?”
“Why are you here at the A-rank Tower and not the S-rank Tower…?”
In response to the cosplayer’s question, the woman shrugged and removed the orange safety tip from her gun, placing it in her pocket.
“Because there’s a Tower here.”
* * *
“…Is this good enough?”
Elaine was dispatched to Busan.
Through women’s clothing and disguise tools provided by Luigi’s aide, Patrick, Elaine boarded an express bus to Busan.
There, blending in naturally with the crowd, she cosplayed alongside our third summon, Hacker.
Currently, she was raiding the A-rank Tower.
I sat in my Seoul apartment, monitoring her progress on one screen while browsing community reactions on the other.
“Everyone’s going wild, as expected.”
“Exactly as planned, nyah.”
Kiharu said, perched near my mousepad.
She nudged the mouse to point at a specific live comment.
“Why cosplay a character from a Chinese game? They’re already starting to stir things up.”
The character Agent 4577 wasn’t from Npia’s games like Elaine; she was from [Girlsdroid Frontline], a game developed by the Chinese company ChaoChao Play.
– Got it. The Cosplay Maid is just another hardcore gamer.
Barely half a day after the server shutdown announcement, the live-stream comments from BEXCO near the Tower had begun dissecting the situation with sharp observations.
– They’re trying to save Girlsdroid Frontline. Cosplaying boosts interest, and people will spend money to stop the server from shutting down.
“That’s pretty sharp.”
“Sharp, sure, but aren’t you just fixating on one of 29 comments that just flew by?”
“Still, someone managed to nail it exactly.”
The internet is full of smart people. But even the sharpest comments quickly get buried under the deluge of live-stream banter, reduced to fleeting ideas in a sea of brainstorming.
“Should I consider this a good thing?”
“If it’s out in the open, wouldn’t that be fine, meow?”
Kiharu pointed at another comment.
“This feels like a signal they’re moving to China.”
“I anticipated that reaction. But no matter what choice I made, the internet would’ve found something to complain about.”
If I had chosen another of NPia’s games, they’d label me an NPia shill.
If I’d chosen a Japanese game, they’d call me a national sellout.
Choosing a character from a Chinese game makes me some kind of ‘zhajiang’ traitor, huh?
“These baseless accusations come from people who can’t just enjoy games for what they are. All I need to do is provide a clear explanation they can accept.”
I shared the reply I received on social media with Kiharu.
“Look at this. Even our friend Luigi understands.”
“Are you seriously telling me that as a Summoner, you have to worry about whether the U.S. president might face political backlash because you cosplayed a character from a Chinese game? What a tough job, nyah.”
“Of course. He’s our supporter, so we owe him that much.”
Although I was in a hurry and cosplayed Agent 4577 first, the plan was to cosplay a character from a U.S. game for the next A-rank Tower raid.
Naturally, this wasn’t related to summoning directly. Doing cosplay on a whim wouldn’t cause major issues, and if I summoned Agent 4577 and sought their cooperation, I could potentially expedite a trip to the U.S.
“As long as we control information about us to fit our intentions, going overseas is no big deal anymore.”
“What if China asks us to come over?”
“I’ve already discussed that with President Luigi.”
The cosplay of a Chinese game character was, in part, an unspoken apology.
“If someone wants to raid the S-rank Tower with a Perfect Maid cosplayer, they’ll need permission from the U.S. president.”
“…”
“That kind of request creates leverage. Even among friends, secrets must be kept.”
“Why bother focusing so much on games?”
“Exactly. It’s about saving the game companies.”
There was one option. I could have asked the U.S. president to buy the game company outright, preventing the server shutdown.
– I’ll grant your request, but why do you want this company bought out? Just a hobby?
You’ll be suspicious.
Doubt would arise. Even if they didn’t connect this to my Summoning ability, they might still find my excessive interest in the game suspicious.
– Oh, Mr. Summoner. If you’re not solely focused on America, I could destroy all the servers of the games you hold dear.
This was why preemptive measures were necessary.
While I trusted President Luigi, I couldn’t trust the entirety of the U.S. government.
With his term nearing its end, it was crucial to keep our moves to save the game companies under wraps.
Such a complicated mess.
Only she could solve this.
(TLN: Even though it’s an android, they still refer to it as ‘she’.)
“President Luigi may not speak directly, but if he helps coordinate the schedules behind the scenes… sigh. Do I really need to be worrying about the dignity of a president?”
“What about him?”
Kiharu pointed at a live news broadcast showing a press conference by the Korean president.
“And the Korean president?”
“…Well.”
I gestured to the screen where Elaine was climbing the BEXCO A-rank Tower. In her left hand was a pistol, unused, while her right held an ice sword, cutting down monsters in the Tower.
“Every time they try to piggyback off Elaine’s success, it completely kills my motivation to help.”
The subtitles on the live press conference flashed by.
President orders ‘Ironblood’ deployment.
“They’re planning to send not one, but two S-rank Hunters into the A-rank Tower?”
“It’s not deployment—it’s interference. In that case, while Elaine buys time…”
“I’ll summon.”
Currently, I was running two games simultaneously.
One was the app syncing Elaine and the summoned creatures with reality.
The other was preparing for our third ally: Hacker.
After grinding through several updates, I had finally finished their progression.
“Hey Alice, is summoning ready now that the prep is complete?”
[Ready.]
…?
[Proceeding.]
“Great. Then…”
Everything was in place.
“…For the savior of the summoned creatures who will steal all the game company’s data.”
Buy the company?
‘Why bother.’
Our third summon, the capable Hacker, could rip the server apart entirely.
“Let’s disassemble the client and make a copy. For our very own server.”
