I’m Not an NPC (1)
A bone-chilling cold pressed down heavily.
Through the window of the car stopped at a traffic light, leaves swayed precariously, as if they might fall at any moment.
‘Just like me…….’
Since the accident that day, my body, fully paralyzed, refused to move no matter how hard I tried.
‘Do I have to keep living like this? What meaning is there in living this way?’
My emaciated, withered limbs hung limply, twisted and useless.
‘Why do I have to live like this?’
Involuntarily, I recalled two years ago—a regret now utterly useless.
‘I definitely hit the brakes.’
It was late at night, so I hadn’t been going very fast, and since it was downhill, I’d been even more careful. As I entered the curve, I pressed the brakes to slow down, but the car’s speed didn’t decrease at all.
Panicking and not knowing what to do, the car flipped with a tremendous impact, and I lost consciousness amidst dizzying pain.
When I opened my eyes again, nineteen months had passed.
‘Did I really step on the accelerator?’
The first words I heard upon waking from my long sleep were that it had been an accident caused by driving inexperience and operational error. They said I’d mistaken the accelerator for the brake and pressed it, causing the car to speed up instead.
‘I definitely pressed the brakes, though…….’
Are they saying I’d made a mistake I’d never made in my life, at that very moment? I didn’t think so, but the car had already been scrapped, so there was no way to check.
‘Are we almost there?’
The light changed and the car moved again; soon, a familiar building came into view. It was the Yoon Family Korean Medicine Clinic, passed down from great-great-grandfather through great-grandfather for generations.
‘The clinic should be fine, right?’
The clinic, which had closed after the accident, had recently reopened by hiring a pay doctor.
The twelve-story building that housed the clinic was my property, so even if I closed the clinic, it wouldn’t affect my livelihood in the slightest. But I couldn’t just shut down a family business that had lasted for generations.
It may sound boastful, but as the traditional Korean medicine doctor Yoon Jaehyeon, I had made quite a name for myself as a skilled physician and had even appeared on television from time to time.
Screech!
Passing the clinic, the car drove a bit further and entered the apartment building’s underground parking lot. I had bought it as a newlywed home, but including the rehabilitation period, it was my first return in a full two years.
* * *
A day had passed.
When I opened my eyes, the space that greeted me was unfamiliar.
For the past several months, whenever I opened my eyes, I’d had to stare at a grayish-white, gloomy ceiling, and once my mind cleared, I’d had to watch the wall cluttered with all sorts of medical devices connected to my broken body.
Today, however, my vision was filled with a streamlined ceiling of deep chestnut brown that looked soft and leathery.
‘That’s right. I was discharged yesterday and came home.’
Realizing that the space I had woken up in was inside a multi-purpose capsule, I immediately searched for the control panel.
Perhaps it had recognized my voice, because a 3D monitor descended from above my head with the whirring of a motor.
‘So they replaced it with a new one.’
I manipulated the monitor by voice and, just as in the hospital, checked the status of my urine and stool packs. This was a desperate struggle to maintain my last shred of self-esteem.
No matter how much of a quadriplegic I was, I didn’t want anyone to see those foul, filthy things overflowing.
“Disable sleep mode.”
After checking the connection of the tubes containing meal-replacement nutrients and various medications I had to take, I adjusted the brightness of the capsule lid.
The capsule lid, which had turned black when entering sleep mode, became transparent, and the outside came into view.
“Open the blinds.”
The room where the capsule sat was a study with one entire wall made of glass. The reason I had chosen the 68th floor was because I loved the scenery visible from such heights.
‘Even like this, I still love it here.’
As the blinds tilted open, the outside world was revealed through the fully exposed window.
‘People are still busy too…….’
As I gazed at the outside world, the reality that I couldn’t move a muscle below my neck suddenly hit me, and irritation surged up.
Five months had already passed since I’d woken from my coma, yet even now, it was difficult to accept the reality that my entire body was paralyzed.
In moments like these, suppressing my anger was important.
If I poured out resentment and anger with no clear target, it would eventually lead to self-loathing.
‘Shall I watch TV?’
Self-loathing led to a loss of motivation for life, and together with severe depression, it kept bringing up ominous thoughts like suicide.
I knew all too well how unbearable that impulse was, so I hurriedly turned on the TV.
Fortunately, the TV made me forget my worries, if only for a moment.
Knock knock—!
While watching a drama, I heard a knock. I turned my head and saw an unfamiliar middle-aged woman standing before the capsule.
“Who are you?”
“Hello. My apologies for the late greeting. I’m Choi Misun, and I’ll be working in this house starting today.”
“Ah~! Yes.”
“It’s time to get off work, so may I leave? I’ve done the cleaning and dishes, and I’ve dried the laundry and put everything away in the closet.”
“You can tell my wife such things.”
“Madam went out around mid-morning and hasn’t returned yet.”
“Is that so? Where did she go?”
“She said she was going to the clinic and looking around here and there. I’ll change your urine pack before I go.”
“Did you change it this morning as well, ma’am?”
“Yes, I did. Why? Did I do something wrong?”
“No, you didn’t.”
“I was worried I’d done something wrong, so I’m relieved to hear that. I’ll change these now.”
Choi Misun, who quickly changed my urine and stool packs, bowed again and left. Contrary to her plump, slow-looking impression, she was nimble and her fingers were deft.
The clock showed 6:57 PM.
‘She still hasn’t come back…… Is something wrong?’
I hadn’t heard anything beforehand, so my wife’s sudden outing nagged at me slightly, but thinking she would return soon, I turned my head back to the monitor.
An advertisement for a virtual reality game was playing on the monitor after the drama ended.
“Is Chaos World really that fun?”
Even before the accident, Chaos World had constantly been a hot topic, drawing countless people in.
Just three months after service began, it had swept all the game charts, and by around the six-month mark, it had already enjoyed such popularity that no other game could compete. It seemed that was still the case.
‘Would I be able to walk in a virtual reality game too?’
Virtual reality games operate using brainwaves.
As for me now, I had lost my motor functions because some nerve in my brain was damaged, but my cognitive ability remained intact, didn’t it? Then I thought I would be able to move sufficiently in the game.
After all, my capsule wasn’t a medical-exclusive model but a multi-purpose one. It even had a built-in headband for virtual games.
‘If it doesn’t work, it can’t be helped, but if it does…….’
It was a game, but I could walk again.
I accessed the homepage, looked through various pieces of information, and downloaded the program.
‘Will it work?’
For a moment, my vision turned black as if I were drifting to sleep, then gradually brightened.
‘It really works!’
Though I still couldn’t feel my body……,
monitors like control towers and mechanical systems filled my vision, and as the front amplifier image created wave patterns, the operator’s voice was heard.
I followed the procedures according to the operator’s voice.
—Will you name your character Valkan?
“Yes.”
—You must select a faction. Which faction will you choose between Jupiter and Zeus?
“Jupiter.”
—Next is the synchro rate setting.
Lasers poured down as if scanning. Since I was already connected, it should have been a mere formality, but surprisingly, it was taking a long time.
—Synchro rate cannot be set. Scanning once more.
Lasers poured down again.
But again, there was no response for quite a while.
—Synchro rate error. Please contact the headquarters.
An error? Feeling bewildered, I disconnected.
“Can’t I even log into the game?”
My brainwaves were normal, but it seemed the damaged brain nerves were causing problems in some way. To organize my thoughts, I lay down for a moment before accessing the game company’s homepage.
“So the synchro rate…….”
After a brief search, a flood of Q&As related to the synchro rate began pouring out.
Normally, players could set their synchro rate freely, and it seemed most players set it around 50%.
“Up to 50%, pain is replaced by vibrations, and beyond that, you actually feel pain?”
Looking into it, at around 80%, if the character received a shock severe enough to cause death, the player would receive an impact equivalent to a light punch.
I continued searching.
[Title: Former Pro Gamer Here. Synchro Rate 100%]
Don’t do it if you can help it. If you get hit, you’ll be too out of it to even attack.
[Title: Is the 150% synchro rate in the post below for real?]
Are they crazy? At 120%, isn’t damage transfer around 15%? Then how much is it at 150%? So if you get hit by a boss, isn’t it worse than getting punched by Tyson? Insane.
—Isn’t he doing MMA?
└ So what, does MMA mean getting hit doesn’t hurt?
└ Enduring it is different.
└ If he plays a pro wrestling game, his character’s physical stats would be flying. LOL
[Title: Just came back from a headquarters meeting. Challenging 200% synchro rate]
Bros, you know who I am, right?
I tried to raise my synchro rate a bit, but to go above 150%, I had to do something with hospital records, so I just went to headquarters with my manager and lawyer.
Long story short, achieved 200%.
I had to fill out some paperwork, but I’ll only tell you the important stuff.
1. When the body synchro rate is 100%, damage transfer is exactly 10%, and after that, it increases by 0.3% per 1% of synchro rate. So at 200%, damage transfer is 40%. There’s some correction factor, but anyway, it hurts like hell.
So I went outside and got hit by an orc, and damn, it hurt so much I wanted to curse. I kind of regret it, but it’s fine because of reason number two.
2. The sensitivity rate between the game and brainwaves increases. At 100%, they say the sensory transmission rate is 30%. So a person at 100% can feel about 20% more realism than someone at 50%. Meaning, you can control your body better. I’m at 200%, so it’s roughly 60%, and because of that, it’s unrealistically realistic compared to any game I’ve played so far.
Still, I don’t recommend it because of reason number one.
Damn, getting bitten by a wolf hurts as much as getting slapped.
—Damn, bro, are you crazy? Even if you’re rank one in Dark Cross, this is too much.
└ That guy’s control is insane. He probably just dodges everything.
└ Yeah, exactly. I set mine to 130% and I’m sweeping guys I couldn’t beat before. This is better than I thought.
“Synchro rate 200%?”
Reading the posts, I felt like laughing.
What use was pain to me, a quadriplegic who couldn’t feel anything even if my legs were burned with fire? If I could really feel such pain, I was willing to pay my entire fortune—no, my entire fortune is a bit much—but even 10 billion won.
“If damage transfer is 40% at 200%, does it become 70% at 300%? And 100% at 400%?”
That was a bit absurd too.
So if I set my synchro rate to 400%, does that mean if my character dies, I die too? It didn’t make sense from the start.
I pondered for a moment, then made a call through the capsule. The recipient was my late father’s close friend, an executive and representative lawyer at a major law firm.
* * *
Two days later, accompanied by a lawyer from the firm, I visited Chaos World headquarters.
Thanks to having coordinated most of the details with the game company in advance, I was able to meet with the medical staff without major difficulties.
“To be honest, this is our first time encountering such a case, so we were quite bewildered.”
“I’m sorry. But as you can see, in my condition…… I really wanted to play the game.”
The medical team leader said with a pitying expression.
“Yes, we understand. That’s why we’ve had several all-night meetings internally.”
To summarize the team leader’s lengthy explanation:
There was no record of a fully paralyzed patient logging into the game. Related to this, people missing parts of their bodies sometimes played by raising their synchro rate, and in those cases, 150% was recommended. Even then, they said it didn’t hinder gameplay in the slightest.
“Of course, for customers missing parts of their bodies, there is the issue that at 150% synchro rate, they cannot fully express the movements of the missing limbs.”
The team leader added after a moment of hesitation.
“There are a few customers who exceptionally raised their synchro rate to 180%, and fortunately, they said they didn’t feel such discomfort. In other words, the synchro rate clearly affects some sensory functions of the body.”
After organizing my thoughts to understand the team leader’s words, I asked.
“That means it’s possible for me too.”
“Theoretically, yes. However……”
At the team leader’s signal, two employees in lab coats connected a capsule.
“We need to run tests. As you’ve experienced, it’s impossible to connect a customer to the game with a standard capsule. This is because of the maximum synchro rate—standard devices cannot be set above 150%.”
“Ah! It stopped at the scan at my house too.”
“Yes, it would. Global standards for VR capsule synchro rates have been established, and the limit is 150%. Of course, in special cases, it can be lifted at discretion.”
The team leader spoke as he opened a white capsule.
“This RX-101b version is designed to adjust the synchro rate up to 300%. It’s a research prototype. However, even with this device, the limit synchro rate achieved so far is 200%. So I must inform you that safety issues may arise.”
After exchanging several precautions before the test, the team leader handed over a document.
It was a waiver stating that I would not hold the game company liable for any safety accidents caused by the device’s synchro rate.
The lawyer checked the contents and signed as my representative.
The test was conducted in an empty beta mode used only by developers, for the sake of accurate data verification and safety.
“We’ll start at 200%.”
Along with the researcher’s words, I felt my head—precisely, my head in the game—squeezing, but I still couldn’t connect.
The test proceeded by raising it 5% at a time, and by 1% when finer adjustments were needed.
“We were informed that your nervous system was injured…… It’s more difficult than expected.”
As the synchro rate passed 270%, the team leader spoke with a worried expression.
“It’s fine, please continue.”
With my permission, the connection test now proceeded with meticulous adjustments of 0.5% at a time.
That was the maximum limit.
It was when it reached 300%.
Crack!
Something seemed to shatter and split inside my head, and suddenly my vision brightened.
Simultaneously, a sensation was felt.
Whereas before I’d only vaguely felt movement, now I could clearly feel the existence of my four limbs.
My body trembled from the sudden thrill.
“What on earth is this…….”
Just as I felt on the verge of tears, the team leader’s voice was heard.
“Your connection has been approved.”
Afterward, pain tests were conducted to adjust some transfer values, and I experienced movements and various potential issues one by one before all tests were concluded.
“This doesn’t mean everything is done. Since it’s such a delicate device, continuous monitoring will be necessary going forward. We need your consent for this as well.”
Once the lawyer signed, the prototype capsule became mine.
Of course, I had to pay a considerable sum.
The game company began utilizing today’s events for marketing, embellishing the story by claiming they were creating a rehabilitation program for quadriplegic patients and so on.