Chapter 1
Chapter 1: You Can't Just Leave (1)
"Enemies are advancing!"
"The watchtower's signal fire has gone out!"
"Barbarians are invading!"
Barbarians, my ass. Aren't those just troops from another country?
Opportunistic hyenas rushing in for scraps, thinking this is their big chance.
Of course, they weren’t the only problem.
"Sir, Praise Makes Whales Breakdance, please evacuate quickly."
'God, why did I pick that damn username?'
At the very last moment, that was my biggest regret. That cursed username!
Standing atop the high stone wall, I looked off into the distance.
Behind those bastards dressed up as barbarians, a larger force was gathering.
They were charging forward, cloaked in white. Those were the real threat. The true reason my land was about to fall.
The land I had built from scratch—starting with a small farm and a handful of worthless serfs—was collapsing.
"You must escape quickly."
At least this one turned out well.
Marcus Pael, my advisor.
"You should be the one to run."
Would running even change anything?
If this stronghold fell, everything would fall.
Naturally, Marcus Pael, tied to this stronghold, would die too.
I knew it from invading and conquering other nations myself—when a country fell, its key figures vanished.
This was inside a game.
More precisely, inside [God Hand], a massive joint project developed by Finland, Korea, Spain, and the United States.
The game’s premise was simple.
You were to become the hand of God and build a nation.
'But getting stuck inside the game? That’s a whole different story.'
And this wasn’t just any game.
This world was another reality altogether.
The characters I once thought of as mere NPCs could breathe, think, and act on their own.
I had cried and laughed alongside them through their deaths.
'FisherKing, EmptyDragon, KimBait... Damn, you bastards.'
The players and characters I had met in the game—each one seemed to greet me in turn as they died.
It wasn’t just one or two faces. They kept flooding back to me.
'I'm sorry... all of you.'
I had promised to carry on their dreams. But I guess this is where it ends.
Beyond those familiar faces, I could already see everything falling apart and crumbling into dust.
'Ah... Just a little more, and I could’ve made it.'
If only that damn ally hadn't stabbed me in the back.
If only I hadn’t let that bandit slip away.
At every critical decision, maybe I had unknowingly chosen the path to ruin.
With those regrets weighing on me, I finally spoke.
"Do you think I did something wrong?"
Marcus Pael.
Chancellor of this nation, second-in-command.
In [God Hand], he was designed to act on the player’s commands, serving as an advisor.
He opened his mouth to speak.
"If you had strengthened the military..."
"If you had expanded the farmland and improved relations with neighboring countries..."
"If you hadn’t trusted the alliance so much..."
Even now, this bastard was sticking to the textbook advice.
Well, that’s why I appointed him Chancellor. Still, couldn’t he offer some comfort, even with everything falling apart?
"Goddamn it."
I gazed wistfully into the distance.
And then I made my decision.
If they caught me, it wouldn’t end well.
In that case, I'd rather take this fortress down with me. No way I’d let those bastards benefit from my downfall.
"Marcus Pael, your master commands you."
"Yes, Sir Praise Makes Whales Breakdance."
'If I ever get another chance, I swear I’ll never choose a stupid name like that again. Damn it.'
I only picked that ridiculous name to make people chuckle.
But it was so long that, in urgent situations, calling myself caused delays and even accidents.
These guys, though—they never once got my name wrong, even at the very end.
"Sir Praise Makes Whales Breakdance! Please, save yourself!"
Just say, "Save me, my lord!"
"Sir Praise Makes Whales Breakdance! I beg you!"
Forget the name—just say "please"! Just say anything else!
So damn irritating.
"Ah, I think I might cry."
I meant it. It was a thought that hit me as everything was ending.
Real tears threatened to fall.
After all the effort I put into building this land...
"Sir Praise Makes Whales Breakdance, do you give up?"
Pael asked.
It was a question I’d heard countless times. A translucent window popped up in front of me, forcing me to choose between "Yes" and "No."
If I pressed it, could I go back?
I had desperately wished to return to the real world. Not one of spirits, magic, and swordplay—but a world with bidets, subways, and asphalt roads.
But I just couldn’t bring myself to press it.
What if hitting it just meant dying for real? Whose fault would that be?
More than anything, I had figured out the real purpose of this game. I couldn’t be sure, but I suspected there was a way back.
I didn’t know how I got stuck here, but I believed that if I reached the ultimate goal, I could leave.
Far across the vast plains, I could see a portal opening. A circular gate, standing upright on a piece of land shaped like a lake.
"If I had won..."
I muttered to myself. If I had managed to build and expand the kingdom, defeating those enemies, I would’ve gained ownership of that gate.
What would have happened then?
It was regretful. I should’ve grown the kingdom.
I had to grow it—big enough that no one would dare to challenge me.
Maybe then I could’ve returned to my original world.
"Ah."
A sigh of regret escaped me like a groan. After that single exhale, I gathered myself and looked at Pael.
What’s done is done.
"I can’t just give up like this."
Did I still have some explosives left?
I must’ve had some left from a lucky find.
They were high-capacity bombs, a fusion of magic and gunpowder. With those, I could take down this entire fortress.
"Fire."
"Yes, Sir Praise Makes Whales Breakdance."
Pael also had magical talent.
He extended his fingers and conjured flames.
"Bigger."
I strode forward with determined steps. Time to go out with a bang.
If I was going to die anyway, I might as well go out in style.
* * *
Boom! Boom! Brrrraaa-boom!
Explosions echoed through the air, shattering the fortress, sending stones flying.
Dark clouds gathered overhead as if the sky itself raged, and beneath them, the castle was crumbling into pieces.
"This crazy bastard."
One of the men charging in, dressed in barbarian gear, muttered as he pushed back his stinking hood.
"Did he just blow up the fortress? And he never even showed that kind of weapon before?"
They were once allies. But alliances never lasted forever.
"This insane fucker."
Even if you die, shouldn’t you at least leave behind something meaningful?
Blowing it all up like that?
"...Yeah, just like a damn whale bastard. Not leaving a single cornerstone behind, huh?"
A woman beside him spoke. Her violet lips were visible beneath her hood.
She, the man, and Praise Makes Whales Breakdance—they were all heroes who had made their mark in this game.
They could just as well be called the Five Fingers of God, the top five rankers.
"A madman is just a madman."
The third figure appeared, with eyes so pale they were entirely white beneath the barbarian disguise.
Those eyes, devoid of any pupils, sent chills down one's spine just by looking.
"He stayed behind alone when everyone else left."
"He should’ve just turned back earlier. What a lunatic."
Lunatic Whale—a shortened nickname they used for Hu.
The three heroes clicked their tongues.
If that bastard hadn't destroyed everything, their own territories could have grown fat with wealth.
The woman with violet lips clicked her tongue in frustration.
It was a shame. He had been the wealthiest among them.
If not for the alliance forces behind them, even three against one wouldn’t have been enough to take him down easily.
The woman with violet lips thought of that Whale bastard.
‘He was relentless.’
And that made him all the more captivating.
What if Whale had turned to their side?
Then, she wouldn’t have hesitated to become his lover. She was sure of it.
* * *
"Those bastards, may you all be cursed. Especially you, Joo Hee-yeon!"
It was the name of the woman who had betrayed him most brutally.
Lunatic Whale, Lim Hu, was cursing in the collapsing underground of his fortress.
"Sir Praise Makes Whales Breakdance, are you giving up?"
Marcus Pael asked, ever dutiful even with blood pouring from his cracked skull.
Hatred burned in Hu’s eyes.
Frustration surged.
"Why should I?"
It wasn’t about some noble cause like fighting for humanity until the end.
It was just that he had no trust left.
How could he turn back and believe in those bastards?
If something went wrong, he'd be the one paying the price. And if he gave up now, he’d never return to a world with bidets, subways, and asphalt!
[God Hand] was a game of twists.
If they had just enjoyed the game without getting trapped inside it, the moment strategy guides surfaced, everyone would’ve called it a garbage game for that twist.
But for Hu and the other players trapped inside, they had no way of knowing.
Why the hell did this twist even exist? Crazy developers.
In hindsight, Hu wondered if a game company had even made this.
"You have been given the opportunity to save humanity. Defeat the otherworldly monsters from another dimension."
Bullshit. Utter nonsense.
At first, it seemed like a simple farming simulator.
Then it turned into a kingdom-building game. “Wow, this is pretty cool,” he had thought.
“If I grow this kingdom and see the ending, maybe I’ll be able to return.”
That hope had lingered.
The memories flashed before his eyes like a dying light.
No. That wasn’t the real goal of this game. It wasn’t just about building a prosperous kingdom.
"Fucking lunatics."
"Sir Praise Makes Whales Breakdance."
God, stop calling me that.
Give up? No way.
He had made promises to those who believed in him.
He hadn’t fulfilled those promises yet, so he didn’t even deserve to give up.
"I won’t."
"Please confirm that again."
"I said I’m not giving up!"
His voice was filled with fury. The veins on his neck bulged, and just then, a chunk of stone fell and smacked him square on the head.
"Agh!"
With a scream, excruciating pain shot from his head down to his toes—worse than when he got stabbed in the stomach years ago.
"Sir Praise Makes Whales Breakdance, you’re still not giving up?"
"No."
Even in death, Hu couldn’t bring himself to utter the words give up. Instead, he chose self-destruction.
If he had to die, he’d take them all with him.
Of course, the sharp ones wouldn’t come in—they’d just watch his downfall from a distance, clicking their tongues.
Maybe they were even smirking with satisfaction.
Rumble! Boom!
Setting off explosives in the basement and quietly embracing death—it was a fitting end.
"Life is just…"
Hu shut his mouth before he could let out a final curse. No matter what he said, it wouldn’t make him feel better.
Instead, tears streamed down his face.
"Ah... I really miss my mom."
And Dad too.
Even his dog, Boksil.
And his sibling—more like a necessary nuisance than anything—he missed them too.
Damn. This really was the end.
He sobbed uncontrollably.
"Sir Praise Makes Whales Breakdance, are you crying?"
Marcus Pael, his left arm twisted at a grotesque angle, asked.
"It’s just dust in my eyes."
Hu closed his eyes. The world went dark.
"Sir Praise Makes Whales Breakdance. You did not give up."
Pael’s voice faded into the distance. Let me rest already.
And I swear, I’ll never pick such a stupid username again. So goddamn annoying.
"Praise Makes…"
Stop it already, man. You deserve to rest too.
Through blurry tears, Hu saw Pael.
But his expression wasn’t mechanical for once—his tightly closed lips trembled with resolve.
It was a face Hu had never seen before.
After living together for ten years, it was the first time he saw Pael like this—lips pressed tight as if making a firm decision.
Through the shimmer of his tears, Pael’s lips moved.
"You were a good ruler."
What nonsense.
[You have failed your challenge.]
The system’s voice echoed in his ears.
A notification probably popped up in front of him too, but with his eyes closed, he couldn’t see it.
[But you never gave up until the end.]
Yeah. That’s my pride.
Mom, are you doing well? Your son’s about to knock on Heaven’s door.
[Praise Makes Whales Breakdance…]
This goddamn username! I swear, never again!
Not that he’d get another chance. As the system read out his ridiculously long name, Hu lost consciousness.
A vast darkness. A splitting headache.
And then, sunlight.
Sunlight? Why sunlight?
Flash.
Hu opened his eyes.
The blazing sunlight made him instinctively frown.
"What the hell?"
He abruptly sat up.
His hands grasped blades of grass.
A breeze brushed against his cheek, and above him stretched a blue sky filled with fluffy clouds.
Hu was lying under a large tree. More precisely, beneath the shade of a towering tree on a small hill.
As time passed, the sun had shifted, casting its light into his eyes.
But that didn’t matter right now.
"I’m not dead?"
"Oh! Lord Landowner, you’re awake?"
Someone suddenly called out to him. It was a middle-aged man with an ill-fitting, scruffy beard.
"The weather’s quite nice today, isn’t it?"
The man spoke awkwardly, trying to gauge Hu’s reaction.
This felt familiar.
A deep sense of déjà vu.
Could it be… regression?
Was that it? Had he come back?
To when the game had just started?
"My name is Hu."
Before regrets could set in, Hu got down to business.
Never again would he use that stupid username.
"Eh?"
"You were about to ask my name, weren’t you?"
"Ah, y-yes, I apologize for my ignorance, Lord. My name is Marcus Rader, and I’ll be serving you from today."
"Huh? What did you say your name was?"
"Marcus Rader, my lord."
Did Pael have a brother? But this face—he was too ugly to be related… No, if this were regression, Marcus Pael should’ve been here.
"Wait a second. What year is it today?"
"Uh, it’s the 11th year of the Pandemonium Kingdom calendar, sir."
Pandemonium Kingdom? Why does that exist?
That’s Joo Hee-yeon’s nation!
The name of the country founded by the violet witch who had stabbed him in the back was Pandemonium.
Rader blinked as he looked at Hu.
Pael had been a handsome young man. But this guy?
Not at all. Hu’s mind raced.
If this isn’t regression…
He shot up and looked down from the hill.
The surroundings were familiar.
The déjà vu made sense now.
The starting land.
This was the beginning phase of [God Hand]—where you’re given a small patch of farmland and told to grow from there.
Not regression—just the starting point.
[‘God Hand’ Player Lim Hu, ID ‘Hu’, Round 2 initiated.]
Just then, the system voice echoed again. Round 2?
Right. His first round had ended.
Now, the second round had begun.
Same stage, similar environment.
"Ah, this is seriously messed up."
Hu laughed as he spoke. His smile came from two reasons.
First, relief that he wasn’t dead.
Second...
“You want me to start over from the beginning?”
Then that changed everything.
This time, he understood the game’s true objective. Even if this wasn’t regression, starting from the second round meant he could change things.
Sure, catching up to those already ahead would tear him apart.
Fine. I’ll do it. I’ll tear myself apart a hundred times if I have to.
—To be continued—