Sunday,
He was still asleep when his phone alarm rang.
BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR
"Fucking retard!" he yelled, trying to locate his phone.
He looked to the right.
Nothing.
"Aghh!"
After finally locating the devil's device, he disabled the alarm.
He quickly opened his banking app.
[Shinhan Bank: Your Balance is 498,500 ₩]
[Credit Score: 521 / 1000]
[Evaluation: High-Risk (Grade 7)]
Yeah. I shouldn't have expected a higher score. This is probably going to bite me later in the butt.
Taking a loan with that score? Hell naw. Buying or renting something? Hell naw.
If this was Dark Souls, his difficulty would have been a Level 1 Wretch with a broken stick, facing Malenia right out of the gate.
But he had at least a bank account at Shinhan Bank, right?
"Quest!" he thought.
Silence.
After a moment that stretched just long enough to spark a flicker of doubt, the familiar blue hologram materialized.
[System initializing…]
[Primary Objective: Clear Credit Card Debt of 230,000 ₩]
[Reward: 250 EXP, ??? Skill]
Alright, let's do this! He quickly navigated to the 'Cards' tab in his banking app.
- Shinhan Basic Credit Card - Limit: 500,000 ₩ - Balance: 230,000 ₩
I only bought ramen and water with this thing. What a pathetic existence. But now, with this chance... He could earn real money. He would repay his uncle, no matter what.
He tapped Pay Full Balance, then immediately navigated to Cancel Card.
He didn't hesitate for a second. Just go away, you evil leech.
[Shinhan Bank: Your Balance is 268,500 ₩]
[+250 EXP]
…
[Quest Complete!]
[Reward: C++ Mastery (LVL 1)]
A wave of warmth, distinct from the JavaScript infusion but just as profound, flowed into his mind. Complex syntax, memory management, and the power to build everything.
C++... This was a different league altogether. While JavaScript was the language of the web, C++ was the language of engines—the foundation of everything from game engines to high-frequency trading systems.
Min-jun, a CS grad, would definitely know its reputation. With this, he wasn't just fixing websites; he could potentially build something from the ground up. The only problem? Finding freelance gigs for C++ was a different beast. Clients weren't looking for "apprentices" to tinker with their core systems; they wanted seasoned experts. He was stuck in the classic paradox: he needed experience to get experience.
A new line of text shimmered into view on the system interface, as if reading his frustration.
[Leveling via Practical Experience & Project Development is now active!]
Fine. If he couldn't get client work, he'd create his own. He opened his code editor and started designing a simple, maliciously fun website in JavaScript.
Jigsaw Buttons!
The concept was simple: six identical buttons, but only one was the correct one. He implemented the Fisher-Yates algorithm to randomize their order on every load, ensuring there was no pattern to cheat. To add insult to injury, if you pressed two wrong buttons, the jigsaw puzzle image in the background would scramble itself further. The final touch? A death sound from Dark Souls would play on every failure.
Neat. Let's try it, he thought, a smirk on his face.
He became the first victim of his own creation. Click. "AAAAAAHHH!" (The familiar sound of a Hollow dying). Click. "AAAAAAHHH!" The jigsaw scrambled. After eight humiliating failures, he'd had enough.
"Just fuck off!" he yelled at his own screen, slamming the mouse down.
[+25 EXP]
…
Alright, only 25 EXP left till JavaScript Mastery Level 2. The finish line was so close he could taste it, a faint electric static on the back of his tongue.
A simple, utilitarian idea crossed his mind. No more cursed buttons. Just a pure, efficient tool. A unit conversion calculator.
Kilometers to Miles. KM/H to MPH. Celsius to Fahrenheit.
He pulled up his code editor, the blank file a canvas for his final push. The logic was trivial now. He easily found the formulas and slotted them into a switch statement, the cases clicking into place like tumblers in a lock. He enclosed the whole thing in a while (true) loop, creating a relentless, obedient machine that would convert until the end of time. The only thing it needed was input.
He ran the script.
> Convert 100 km to miles.
<- 62.1371 miles.
> Convert 35 celsius to fahrenheit.
<- 95.0°F.
It worked flawlessly. No errors. No bugs. Just clean, instantaneous computation. It was beautiful in its absolute utility.
[+25 EXP]
[Level Up!]
[Reward: JavaScript Mastery (LVL 2)]
[RANK: Journeyman]
[CREDENTIAL UNLOCKED: SW Expert Accreditation (Web Developer - Advanced)]
[ISSUING BODY: Korea Software Industry Association (KOSSA)]
The warmth that flowed into his mind this time was different from the initial, overwhelming flood. It was a sharp, clarifying focus. Concepts that were once just knowledge now felt like instinct. He could see the paths to better, more efficient code.
…
He rested his head on the chair, arms stretched out towards the ceiling as if in supplication. A soft, exhausted moan escaped his lips.
The high of leveling up was fading, replaced by the dreary, daily ritual that governed his old life: 'Checking the Invoices.' It was a simple task, but ignoring it was a slow, financial suicide. A missed bill was a direct blow to his already crippled credit score, a guarantee of more debt, more penalties.
His mind, fueled by a lifetime of being told he wasn't good enough, conjured a scene with vivid cruelty. He saw himself, a year from now, walking into a sleek car dealership, hoping to mortgage a modest used car. The salesman's face would shift from a polite smile to a mask of pure disdain as he ran his credit.
"Peasant," the salesman would sneer, his voice dripping with contempt. "You're courting death with this financial history!"
He'd be shooed away like a stray animal. "Come back with cash, you insolvent serf, or never darken this dealership again!"
"Noooooo!" Dong-seung yelled at the ceiling, kneeling on the floor in a fit of melodramatic despair.
The echo of his own shout faded into the silence of his condo. He sat there for a moment, knees on the cool linoleum, and then a slow, genuine smile spread across his face.
…
Calling it a 'Condo' was technically not accurate, he thought. He was a tenant after all, not an owner. His uncle Tae-shik, generous but ever the businessman, had provided this place. The rent was 950,000 ₩—a steal for a 160 m² fortress with an RC6-rated door¹, a balcony bigger than most Seoul studios, and a kitchen that felt like a showroom.
His eyes landed on the fridge. Liebherr². A smirk touched his lips. The name was familiar, but not from interior design magazines. His uncle's study was a shrine to Liebherr scale models—the massive LTM 11200 mobile crane, the colossal LR 13000 crawler crane. The man had a thing for German engineering, apparently even when it was just for keeping his kimchi cold.
He glanced at the sleek, minimalist oven next to it. Miele³. The name meant nothing to him. It didn't have the brutalist, industrial presence of a crane. It was just... a stove. An obscenely expensive one, he was sure, knowing his uncle's tastes. It was another silent, over-engineered monument.
Germans… they really knew how to build things.
…
Well, time to descend the dungeon. He quietly exited his condo, carefully latching the door to avoid a loud click. The last thing he needed was a neighbor recognizing him as the guy who'd been screaming 'YES!' at the sky.
Taking the stairs was always an option, but why should he? This was the era of the elevator, a revolution he fully supported. They were standard in Korea, after all. He'd read about those old Eastern European apartment blocks—often built without elevators, or with clattering, primitive death traps. If he ever made it big, maybe he'd buy this very building and upgrade it with a smooth, silent German elevator. ThyssenKrupp⁴, perhaps.
The walk to the mailboxes was a new ritual. A week ago, it was a journey of dread, anticipating final notices. Now, it was a walk of confirmation—confirming his new reality.
He reached his mailbox and pulled out the usual stack of flyers and ads. But nestled amongst them was a thick, cream-colored envelope. It felt expensive. On the top right was a blue American Express logo.
"Huh?" he muttered, furrowing his brow. "What the fuck?"
This was odd. Were scams now this sophisticated? Who would put this much effort into scamming him?
Fuck it.
RIP AND TEAR.
The last time he was this excited was when he played Doom Eternal.
Inside was a formal letter, but in Korean. His eyes scanned past the corporate pleasantries. At the bottom of the insert, nestled in black foam, was a silver AMEX card.
It was cold and heavy. A metal surface with a texture that felt raw and premium. The entire face was a beautiful, intricate, silver-on-silver maze pattern. He ran his thumb over it; he could feel the raised paths. At the very center was the AMEX Centurion—the Roman warrior in his helmet. In the bottom left corner, etched was a number:
1/1
It meant the card was the only one in its existence. One of a kind.
But something was odd. It also had a Mastercard logo on the bottom right. This was unusual. AMEX had its own transaction network. Business owners outside the US often avoided AMEX because of its higher fees—typically 1.3%-3.3% versus Mastercard's 1.15%-2.5%. Why the hybrid?
Back in the silence of his condo, the activation process began. He pulled out his Samsung S10, its cracked screen a familiar comfort. He found and installed the AMEX app, his heart thumping slightly as he entered the card details. A temporary PIN arrived via SMS. 9-0-2-1. He committed it to memory, his lips moving silently as he repeated the sequence in his head. Nine-zero-two-one. Nine-zero-two-one.
His mind raced until his eyes landed on the final line of the notice, the numbers that truly defined the deal:
3% Cashback on everything.
Interest Rate: 17.4% p.a.
A slow smile spread across his face. The System wasn't offering him a credit card. It was offering him a weapon. The interest rate was irrelevant. He'd never carry a balance. But a 3% cashback on everything? That was a perpetual, passive business expense. Every purchase, every client dinner, every server he rented would now be 3% cheaper.
The maze on the card wasn't a design; it was a promise. And he had just found the first thread.
…
Footnotes:
^1 RC6-Rated Door: Highest resistance class under EN 1627, designed to withstand at least 20 minutes of attack by an experienced intruder using heavy-duty power tools (e.g., drills, angle grinders with large discs).
^2 Liebherr: German company renowned for cranes and construction machinery; also produces premium appliances, especially refrigerators and freezers, valued for durability and precise temperature control.
^3 Miele: German manufacturer known for reliability and longevity in high-end appliances, including washing machines, dishwashers, and ovens, emphasizing user convenience and timeless design.
^4 ThyssenKrupp: German industrial leader, with an elevator division recognized for robust, high-capacity systems and innovations like the magnetic-levitation MULTI elevator.