Inside a cramped office, two people sat across from each other, separated by a large wooden desk.
One was an older man in a long white coat — a doctor, his expression grim.
The other was a young man with pale blonde hair and tense, watchful eyes fixed on the doctor, heavy with anticipation.
"Your mother's condition is worsening by the day," the doctor said, his voice low. He paused, as if weighing his next words. "There is a treatment, but… it's a little pricey." He slid a piece of paper across the desk.
Moon took the paper with both hands, eyes scanning it quickly.
His hands began to tremble.
"Eight hundred thousand…" he whispered, fingers tightening around the page until it crumpled in his grasp.
"It's an experimental treatment," the doctor explained. "Your mother's condition is deteriorating rapidly. If we don't act soon, then—"
"I understand." Moon's voice was sharp, cutting him off. He didn't want to hear the rest. He already knew what the doctor was about to say — he just couldn't bear to hear it aloud.
"The payment can be made in four installments," the doctor continued, choosing his words carefully. "But we can't delay the start any longer."
Moon looked up. "How long?"
The doctor hesitated. "Two months. At most."
A heavy silence filled the room.
Moon gave a small nod. A shadow settled over his features, his jaw clenched in grim resolve. There was no way he could make that kind of money in two months. He was already working two jobs, taking every overtime shift he could to support his sick mother and younger sister.
But this?
This was simply impossible.
After the conversation with the doctor ended, Moon wandered aimlessly through the hospital corridors. His mind churned, searching desperately for a solution — but there was none. No miracle. No hope. Just the cold, unrelenting weight of reality.
Eventually, his steps brought him to the hospital ward where his mother was staying. He stopped in front of the door, staring through the small window at the top.
She was lying in bed, frail and motionless.
Glioblastoma.
The word itself felt like a curse. The treatments hadn't worked. Nothing had. Her body had begun to waste away — she looked like a shadow of the woman he once knew. Skin clung to her bones like fragile paper, and even breathing seemed like a struggle.
Moon's fists clenched at his sides, teeth grinding in helpless frustration. He wanted to walk in, hold her hand, and tell her everything would be okay. But he couldn't. He couldn't face her—not like this. Not when he had nothing to offer but empty words.
His eyes dropped to the floor, shame rising in his chest like bile. He hated how powerless he felt.
Then, slowly, he exhaled. Long and deep. And as he breathed out, he forced the emotions down and steadied himself.
"I'll do whatever it takes, Mom," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.
With one last look through the window at his bedridden mother, he turned and walked away from the hospital — carrying a promise he had no idea how to keep.
A few hours later…
"I'm sorry, man. I just bought an apartment," said a young man with red hair and sharp, dark eyes. He wore designer clothes and leaned back in his chair with an apologetic look. "Hell, even if I sold everything I owned, I still couldn't come up with that kind of money."
Moon let out a long sigh. He had figured as much.
"But listen—" Lucas said, pouring another shot of alcohol and sliding it over. "That game I've been telling you about—"
"I don't want to hear about some video game," Moon cut in, shaking his head.
"I made ten grand last month just for being in a guild," Lucas replied casually, as if dropping a bomb was no big deal.
Moon paused, his glass halfway to his lips. Slowly, he set it back down with a soft clunk.
"Ten thousand?" he asked, eyebrows shooting up.
"Yeah. I've been trying to tell you. The in-game currency is tied directly to real-world money. Whatever you earn in-game? You can withdraw straight to your bank account. If you land a good class—like healer or tank—you'll get loaded."
"Good class?" Moon repeated. "Don't you just pick one?"
Lucas sighed dramatically, as if Moon had asked the dumbest question on Earth. "No. It's randomised. Whatever class you get, you're stuck with it for life. The game links your character to your government ID, so you can't create multiple accounts even if you wanted to."
Moon raised an eyebrow. "Sounds... intense."
Lucas scoffed. "Have you been living under a rock? Top rankers are celebrities now. There's even a guy who got a movie deal. You seriously need to go outside more."
Today was one of Moon's rare days off—or half a day off, at least. He had taken time for his mother's appointment, the only reason he wasn't knee-deep in one of his two jobs.
Moon shook his head. "Even if I wanted to try it, I can't afford a gaming PC. I don't even have the money for—"
"You don't need a PC," Lucas interrupted. "Just a VR headset. And I've got a spare one you can borrow."
Moon hesitated, weighing the absurdity of the situation. Then finally, he mumbled, "I'll think about it."
Lucas grinned, victorious. He picked up a piece of grilled meat from the barbecue and dropped it onto Moon's plate.
The two spent the next hour eating, drinking, and catching up. It had been too long since Moon had a moment like this—away from bills, hospitals, and the suffocating grind of survival. Lucas had practically dragged him out after hearing Moon had a sliver of free time.
But all good things have to end eventually.
As the sky darkened, they packed up and began the quiet walk home. For a while, neither of them spoke. The night air was crisp and calm, a rare moment of peace.
Then Lucas broke the silence.
"…So?"
Moon glanced over. "So what?"
Lucas grinned. "Do you want the headset?"
Moon sighed, then cracked a faint smile. "Fine. I'll take it."
Lucas laughed and slung an arm around Moon's shoulders. "Knew you'd see the light."
Before long, they arrived at Lucas' apartment building.
"You wanna come in?" Lucas offered.
"I'll wait out here."
"Suit yourself," he said, jogging inside.
A few minutes later, he returned with a large box tucked under one arm.
"Here," he said, handing it over with a satisfied smirk.
"Thanks," Moon said, tightly gripping the box.
Lucas turned to head back but paused at the door.
"Oh—and don't overdo it on your first day," he teased with a wink before disappearing inside.
Moon stood there for a moment, staring down at the box in his hands.
A chance. Maybe not much of one… but a chance all the same.
With a deep breath, he turned and started walking home—the promise he'd made to his mother still burning in his chest.