There’s no shortage of people who play games, but games are still undeniably considered a subculture in a country like South Korea.
Even the word subculture carries a bit of a derogatory tone.
Sub.
A culture that cannot become mainstream.
No matter how much people argue that games are comprehensive art, no matter how much revenue games generate compared to other creative industries, no matter how advanced society becomes, or even if Towers and Hunters start appearing in the world — one perception remains unchanged.
– Our kid doesn’t study and just plays games all night…
Games are seen as lowbrow.
Games are a social evil.
Games are a culture that adults should regulate and control, or even banish altogether.
No, they didn’t even like calling it a culture.
Especially after the Towers began appearing, as people stopped going outside and tried to solve everything from home, the regulation on games only intensified.
Not a single politician in this country raised their voice in support of the gaming industry.
Even when someone like me — a Master — first sent Elaine into the Tower, what kind of reactions did I get?
– A guy strong enough to easily clear an A-rank Tower is just cosplaying a game character? Sheesh, pathetic.
That kind of talk was common.
Of course, it’s hard to find traces of that now — things have changed so much. But for me, imagining a future where perceptions about gaming change is almost impossible.
Think about it.
Modern-day South Korea.
There are two types of Earth here.
One, where monsters appear and people Awaken with special powers to fight them.
South Korea would forcibly conscript Awakened individuals in the name of national defense. Some Hunters would probably flee to other countries in exile.
But what if there were no Towers — just people Awakening purely with powers?
South Korea would call the birth of an Awakened person an act of patriotism, and society would consider producing patriots a virtue.
Seriously, how could such a version of South Korea even exist?
I’ve seen these varied versions of Korea not just in games, but occasionally in other media too.
Like in webtoons, for instance.
‘It was mostly modern fantasy stuff.’
I didn’t have time to read novels because of gaming, but I’ve definitely seen those stories — running auto-combat on my PC while reading webtoons on my phone.
Usually, they were webtoons adapted from web novels, and in them, people in high places showed all kinds of disgraceful behavior.
– Just assume this is some other country, LOL
Most of the comments said things along those lines.
Since creative works often reflect reality to some extent, those stories were interpreted by some as the author’s scathing social critique.
Games were no different.
Take [Fermata 8X], a game adapted from the NPia IP.
Set in the modern world, it was about punishing evildoers and building a brighter society.
It used game mechanics to explore stories you might expect in real life, and some who got overly immersed — in a kind of WWE way — even tried to draw real-world parallels with the villains who made the goddess in the game grow disillusioned with humanity.
– Isn’t this new Fermata user in the update basically a villain? Acts just like Ironblood, lol.
– Hey now, don’t say she’ll get hit by the protagonist’s awakening skill, lose her Fermata powers, become a regular person, and then vanish… That’s just mean.
Well, that’s probably just the devs updating the story to reflect our reality.
On one Earth, Imperial Japan devoured all of East Asia in the 21st century, so just like Earth is diverse, Korea too must be equally varied.
And yet.
Even knowing that Babel’s unique nature allows for many versions of Earth and Korea—
“Everyone! I, Kim Park-gyu, spent my high school years in PC cafés…!”
“Don’t be fooled, people of 2030! This man right here once took part in discussions proposing the Shutdown Law! He’s the very reason you all had to leave the PC café by 10 PM!”
I can confidently say this version of Korea — the one I live in now — wouldn’t exist on any other Earth.
“Candidate Choi, didn’t you frequently visit forums complaining that your child was addicted to games? Didn’t you say game addiction was a disease and that we needed more counseling centers?”
“Did I say that…? I’m sorry. Back then my son was a senior in high school, but he just wouldn’t study and kept playing games… sob…”
“Wait, you’re bringing up the college entrance exams now…?”
“But! I wasn’t a harsh mother! After he entered college, even though he stayed up gaming every night in his dorm and didn’t date anyone, I didn’t interfere! He’s an adult!”
“Don’t you think that oppressive childhood caused your son to fall into game addiction as an adult?”
“My son is now a gaming YouTuber making 10 million won a month and supporting me!”
Yeah.
At least this level of madness wouldn’t happen on any other Earth.
“The whole country is supporting games now…”
It’s election season.
Right now — on this Earth, in this version of South Korea—
“This is fantasy.”
Games are currently being touted by multiple candidates as a national industry on par with semiconductors.
* * *
[Late Night. Near Jeju Island. Battleship Illinois – Captain’s Room]
“This is comedy gold. People who’ve probably never even touched a game in their life are spewing nonsense just to get elected.”
As she flipped through the candidate debates on TV and various YouTube channels using her tablet, Kiharu sneered at the speeches.
“How many of them actually mean what they say? As the one who helped create this game board, what do you think, partner?”
“I suddenly feel like I’ve become a ‘martyr for mobile gacha games,’ and I’m honestly kind of flustered.”
“Well, it’s not too far off. You’re the one who brought subculture-related content into the mainstream news. Citizens are calling you ‘Martyr-nim.’”
“Calling me a martyr is a bit much.”
It’s not like I contributed anything significant to the development or improved image of the subculture gaming industry.
At best…
“They’re calling me that in the chats of streamers and YouTubers who dumped all their money into gaming stocks, right?”
“Oh dear. Caught me.”
It’s probably the investors — the ones who own shares in NPia, which skyrocketed thanks to me — or other companies categorized under the newly minted “Mobile Game” sector that’s been hitting the upper trading limit every single day.
Most people hold stock in publicly recognized companies.
Those who are serious about investing would be interested in more than just the domestic market — they’d look into U.S. stocks, gold, funds, bonds, and so on.
But those who care about the gaming industry? They might try the game themselves and then invest in the company behind it.
Like how there’s that story of a survival shooter game that sold swimsuits for sturdy-thighed anime-style girl characters and pulled in over 100 billion won in annual revenue.
Or that notorious R-rated mobile bishoujo gacha game — infamous for its aggressive monetization — whose CEO managed to take the company public and joined the trillion-won asset club.
And now here, thanks to my summon Elaine, shares of NPia Corp. have been hitting daily limits and are now trading for over 2.5 million won per share.
People are sensitive to money.
Just like how the elderly downloaded crypto exchange apps and learned how to use them after hearing “coins are money now,” people naturally flock to wherever the money is.
And now, in this country, that attention has extended all the way to games.
“Partner, come to think of it — do you hold any NPia shares?”
“I used to.”
“Used to? So you’ve recovered your losses now?”
“Nah. Bought at the top, sold at the bottom.”
“…Yeah, you really shouldn’t do stocks. And politics is even harder than stocks, you know.”
“Politics, huh…”
Looking at the screen Kiharu was watching, I could only let out a hollow laugh.
“Even if I ran as an independent in some random district, people would probably vote for me.”
“…Getting elected and being good at politics are two different things.”
“Right. Very different. Even if the United Hunters Party puts forth an S-rank Hunter as party leader and declares a political campaign, I doubt that would align with what the public actually wants from politics.”
“You’re talking about Blue Lightning’s party, right? That’s not even their official name.”
“Yeah, but you can’t exactly say it outright either.”
No matter how much this country runs on political gossip, I still want to keep my distance from politics and just focus on what I need to do.
“Still… martyr, huh. I honestly thought people would be more hyped about the Awakening Serum I’ve been distributing.”
“That’s probably because no one’s sure it really works. But voting? If you win, it’s instant. It’s a sure thing. High risk, high reward.”
“Hmm…”
“…You’re thinking about something again, aren’t you?”
“Nah, just an idea.”
High risk, high reward, huh…
“Kiharu. Wanna take a quick trip to NPia with me?”
“Huh? Why? You planning to complain about how they’re launching my humanoid form or something?”
“No. I just want to propose a small event.”
I pulled out ten vials of the Awakening Serum.
“99% chance of getting 10 pulls.
0.99% chance of 1,000 pulls.
And a 0.01% chance of… no, let’s just say — one Hunter per day across the entire server.”
“…You’re making a Hunter Awakening gacha?”
“Yep.”
Ping.
“Thanks to mobile gamers, NPia kept their servers running and kept producing you guys before I even Awakened. I figure this is just good manners.”
“…Is that really your only reason?”
“Well, it’s not just that — though I wouldn’t call it prejudice.”
If people found out there was a way to get Awakening Serums outside of voting, their interest in the game would definitely spike.
“Kiharu, your humanoid form is launching soon. You have to hit #1 on global markets, bare minimum.”
A 0.01% chance to become a Hunter?
Still better odds than trying to buy a house.
“Now this is a game.”
