Ch.1Kidnapped by a Crappy Game (1)

On an ordinary, unremarkable summer day like any other.

Taking advantage of a rare day off, I was enjoying a leisurely time on my bed with the air conditioner blasting at full power.

Others might be playing games or going out drinking with friends.

But for me, the very idea of moving either my head or body on this sweet day off seemed truly exhausting.

“GYAAAAAAAH!”

“Ahahahah, it’s been a really long time since I’ve seen this.”

In my hand was the modern person’s essential item.

It was showing a streamer’s video playing on Youtube, making me smile without even realizing it.

And that video was gameplay footage of a certain mobile game now considered dead, abandoned by almost all its users.

<24-Hour Non-Stop Play of the Legendary Failed Game, ‘Astral Lagrange’>

A streamer who called himself a specialist in crappy games was experiencing the game’s uniquely terrible state.

It was a video of him giving real-time evaluations disguised as all sorts of curses.

“How am I supposed to play this? There are just too many unnecessary things everywhere!”

And in response to the streamer’s words, the chat window filled with viewer comments that scrolled up rapidly.

-[That’s exactly it.]

-[This is why the game was criticized from the beginning.]

-[Claims to be a management game on the surface, but actually requires extreme micro-control lololol]

-[Resource production separate, collection separate, control separate.]

-[People still played while complaining because they kept giving out rewards and had friendly monetization.]

-[Oh yeah true]

-[Yep]

-[For real]

-[But that was only until 3 years ago, didn’t it fail after that because they ruined the monetization and everything else?]

-[It failed, that’s why this guy is playing it now, right?]

-[Oh true]

-[For real lol]

“They’re not wrong.”

Looking at the chat window, I could recall things about that game that I had completely erased from my mind.

Once upon a time, ‘Astral Lagrange’ had reached #1 in mobile store sales and briefly sparked an SF craze throughout Korea—literally a “once-successful game.”

It was unprecedented—carrying the SF label that typically meant certain death in Korea, yet maintaining the #1 position for almost a month.

In this country that’s a graveyard for science fiction—where if you gather 10 Star Wars fans, 10 Galaxy Trek fans, and 10 Doctor Who fans, you only get 12 people—this miracle made SF enthusiasts like me unconsciously reach for their wallets.

The character designs were quite attractive, with detailed modeling down to the smallest parts.

On top of that, the character actions weren’t just “flashy effects” but showed quality comparable to AAA action games.

The designs of all the mechs and starships associated with SF were overflowing with charm.

During the game’s heyday, the strange phenomenon of mech-lovers and ship-lovers with unusual fetishes swarmed all over various communities.

Naturally, with such impressive and inspired designs utilized 100%, along with brilliant combat that allowed for plenty of user involvement.

And unlike typical mobile games, it had truly user-friendly monetization.

“Any character, ship, or mech can clear all content!”

With that catchphrase from the developers.

People like me, as well as ordinary gamers, played happily, expecting it could create a storm like In*Stella had in the past.

No, we had expected that.

But about three years after its glamorous official launch.

As the user base stabilized and new player influx dried up, causing game revenue to decline.

The developer, perhaps due to pressure from their parent company over the continuing drop in sales rankings.

Suddenly began implementing all sorts of dog-meat-like crazy monetization schemes.

They started releasing limited characters, mechs, and ships with insane stats one after another.

Eventually, they created a structure where it became impossible to even engage in combat or exploration without these so-called “key characters.”

As users left one by one and sales declined, they made even more extreme updates, causing more remaining users to leave.

Then the developer would make all sorts of desperate moves, only increasing the number of departing users.

Thinking that even deliberately sabotaging operations couldn’t be this disastrous…

I still vividly remember saying goodbye to a game I had poured my affection into, spending hundreds of thousands of won on in-app purchases.

And now, three years after I decided to return to real life.

-[It’s been a really long time since I’ve seen this game, I used to enjoy it a lot.]

-[Agreed]

-[Would you play it again if asked?]

-[Why would you pick up cheap crap to eat again?]

-[H-honestly, the p-people still playing now are d-demons…]

-[Take back what you just said…!]

Seeing gameplay footage of ‘Astral Lagrange’—which had fallen from a masterpiece to a crappy game and now only had hardcore loyal fans left.

I felt somewhat glad to see a game I once played passionately, even though it didn’t end well.

And while I was thinking about this, new messages continued to pop up in the broadcast chat.

-[Is this game still alive?]

-[Yeah, they just celebrated their 6th anniversary and even ran ads]

-[They say they normalized the monetization and are offering return rewards]

Rewards, huh.

Of course, that chat was immediately buried by other messages that followed.

-[You believe that? You believe that? You believe that?]

-[Return reward scam what the hell]

-[F]

-[U]

-[C]

-[Fooled again, rookie?]

-[Not wrong]

The chat quickly became buried in hostile messages from people who had completely lost all trust.

But despite that, along with such messages.

The current state of a game I once immersed myself in while spending tons of money was tempting my curiosity.

And since it was my day off with nowhere particular to go.

“Let’s see… Astral Lagrange, Astral Lagrange, Astral Lagrange…”

After scrolling through all sorts of knockoff games and other games with similar names in the search results.

“Good, found it.”

I saw that the game, which had been burning with a 1.7-star rating when I quit, had somehow recovered to a 4.5 rating, and downloaded it with a certain expectation.

Of course, once the download finished and I was about to start the game.

Memories from three years ago came flooding back, triggering my PTSD.

“Hmm… now that I’m looking at it, I don’t really feel like playing.”

Did I really need to waste my precious day off playing a verified crappy game?

With that thought, my finger stopped just as I was about to play the game, but…

At that very moment.

*Ding!♪*

“Huh?”

Even though I hadn’t logged into the game yet, I could see a notification email arriving from ‘Astral Lagrange’.

<<<Return Notice for Astral Lagrange Long-Term Absentees>>>

<This is a notice for Commanders who have been hunting alien monsters while pioneering the desolate universe.>

<Our game has recognized the recent continued negative evaluations and accordingly wishes to show Commanders a completely renewed world of ‘Astral Lagrange’!>

<Install the new update and receive various free rewards and random draw tickets!>

<Additional rewards will be given to returning Commanders!>

<…

And the email content clearly confirmed what I had seen in the broadcast chat earlier.

The problem was that there was no information about ‘exactly what’ these reward contents were.

“In this day and age, they don’t even show the package list or the probabilities?”

Seeing this, I instinctively reached for the delete button as I recalled notorious predatory games, but.

…Those who have received this email will automatically participate as testers for the newly updated game!>

With those final words.

I felt my vision go dark, and I lost consciousness.

When I opened my eyes again.

‘Ah, a familiar ceiling.’

I could see a ceiling that felt both familiar yet somehow new welcoming me.