Chapter 117

Lee Junseong was a guy in his 20s who loved games.

It wasn’t exactly surprising for a Korean man to love games, but Lee Junseong was still a bit unique.

The reason? He was a “package game” lover.

Even in a world where VR had replaced PCs and consoles, gamers were still divided into three categories.

First, the group that only played “national games” like *StarCraft* and *League of Legends*. People who only played *Eternal World* fell into this category.

This type had the largest number of people.

Next, the group that only played “mobile gacha games” like *Seven Knights*, *Fate/Grand Order*, *Epic Seven*, *Arknights*, *Genshin Impact*, and *Blue Archive*. People who dumped their entire paycheck into *Cosmic Origin* belonged here.

This type spent the most money.

And finally, the long-awaited last group.

The group that only played “package games” like *Resident Evil*, *Final Fantasy 7*, *Devil May Cry*, *The Last of Us*, *GTA series*, *Skyrim*, *Elden Ring*, and *The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild*.

This type prided themselves on being “true gamers.”

Han Yoorim was also closer to this side, if you had to categorize her.

After all, most of the games she made were package games.

Even *Cosmic Origin*, a mobile gacha game, showed her madness by including individual character dating sims, so it was clear she leaned toward the package game side.

Of course, Han Yoorim didn’t consider herself a “true gamer” because she loved package games—she was more of a hybrid who played everything, so her vibe was slightly different.

Anyway.

The conversation got sidetracked, but the point is, Lee Junseong had been very happy lately.

It was because package games were pouring out nonstop.

The AAA games he’d been waiting for, unexpected dark horse games from small indie teams, sequels to major titles…

It had been years since games had flooded the market like this, and it didn’t stop there.

Even major game companies were releasing years’ worth of content in just half a year.

Han Yoorim.

Thanks to her appearance, the package game industry was experiencing an unprecedented boom.

Today, Lee Junseong logged into Game Gallery, the spiritual home of Han Yoorim.

*<Baekcheon Story is insane>*

“I don’t even like mobile gacha games, but Han Yoorim’s games are seriously fun.”

“The fact that each character has their own personal story is a total hit.”

“-True, but Baekcheon’s a male character. Dude, are you gay?”

“┗No. He’s just insanely cool.”

“┗┗Gay gay gay.”

*Cosmic Origin* was currently dominating the store rankings, enjoying immense popularity.

Some overenthusiastic folks were even claiming that the “ultimate game” had finally arrived in this world.

If Han Yoorim heard it, she’d probably go, “Hmm. Is that all?” but Lee Junseong somewhat agreed with the “ultimate game” label.

Do you like gacha games? Just play it. *Cosmic Origin* was fundamentally a mobile gacha game, after all.

If you liked package games, it was the same. You could pick one character out of thousands and enjoy their individual story, which was essentially like playing a dating sim.

The amount of content even surpassed most dating sims.

So, users jokingly called *Cosmic Origin* the world’s most successful dating sim sales method.

Finally, even the group that only played national games enjoyed *Cosmic Origin*.

The fun of genuinely connecting with the characters offered a unique flavor you couldn’t find anywhere else.

Ah. Han Yoorim was also a famous streamer, which brought in a lot of casual users.

Seeing her constantly appear on MTube made them think, “I’ve got nothing to do, maybe I’ll try her game.”

As expected, promotion is everything.

*<How many games has the gallery owner made already?>*

Gallery owner (Galju). It was a shortened term for the owner of a gallery, usually given to the most famous person in that gallery.

And Han Yoorim was the Galju of Game Gallery.

There was still debate over whether Han Yoorim was officially part of Game Gallery, but Galjus were often elected even if they weren’t officially part of the gallery. It wasn’t unusual.

Lee Junseong clicked on the post.

*<How many games has the gallery owner made already?>*

“Fantasy Life, Excel Busters, Resurrected Students Also Need Love, Eternal World: Tower of Transcendence, Cosmic Osuary, Cosmic Origin.”

“Six games in just half a year?”

“Is this even humanly possible?”

“-We already saw she’s not human lol.”

The secret behind Han Yoorim’s insane game development speed had already been revealed.

It was thanks to a broadcast showing her with a robotic butler at home, making people wonder if she’d popped out of an SF world.

Of course, even after the truth came out, questions like, “Can you really call games made by a high-performance AI her own work?” and “Is the copyright even okay?” followed. But those concerns were quickly buried.

The games were just too fun to care about such trivial details.

Honestly. Gamers only care if the game is fun—the rest doesn’t matter.

It didn’t really matter.

It wasn’t like she committed a crime, and no one had any complaints about her using her exceptional skills (why Han Yoorim was making games with future technology was still an unsolved mystery) to entertain users.

Lee Junseong was no different.

He was a huge fan of Han Yoorim.

He bought all of her games, and for <Cosmic Origin>, he spent quite a bit of money to pull his favorite characters.

One of the bricks in the mansion Han Yoorim bought might as well have been stacked by Lee Junseong.

Lost in thought about the incredibly lifelike character he had recently pulled, Lee Junseong tapped on his keyboard.

<So, when is Han Yoorim making an android beautiful girl?>

When can I bring the character I pulled into reality?

-Someone asked before, but she said she won’t make one because people might get too obsessed with the android beautiful girl and stop buying her games.

┗That’s just too much.

It was during this time that Lee Junseong was chewing, tearing, tasting, and enjoying Han Yoorim’s work.

<Hey, Han Yoorim’s new game is out.>

Someone posted the news in the gallery.

Mid-refresh, Lee Junseong paused.

A new game release? Already?

Even Lee Junseong, who was getting used to Han Yoorim’s pace, couldn’t believe the release timeline.

The beta test for <Cosmic Osuary> started on August 17th, and now it was September 22nd.

Meaning Han Yoorim made a new game in just 37 days. Is Han Yoorim usually that busy?

She ran a beta test, went on vacation to Okinawa, revealed her mechanical butler, showed her face, and even played on a life server of an overseas VTuber company. Where did she find the time to make a game?

Even if she’s a super AI, shouldn’t she need to invest a certain amount of time?

Is that just the imagination of an ordinary person?

Please, Han Yoorim. Develop an android beautiful girl.

Praying fervently to the god Yoorim in his heart, Lee Junseong soon snapped out of it and clicked on the newly uploaded game PV.

Upbeat music played as nostalgic-colored landscapes flashed by.

A massive artificial island in the middle of the Pacific.

Various events unfolding there, and boys and girls wielding swords.

<RE: Snowball Garden>.

Reading the title, Lee Junseong muttered softly.

“Why RE?”

It’s not like she’s rebooting an old game, so why the RE?

With that question in mind, Lee Junseong continued watching the video.

The developer list appeared.

For a moment, he thought it would be filled with Han Yoorim’s name as usual.

But Lee Junseong’s eyes widened.

A different name was written under the original creator.

‘What? Not a solo development this time?’

Surprised, Lee Junseong checked the original creator’s name.

And blinked.

[Original Creator: 35Han Yoorim]

What does this mean?

So, Han Yoorim from 2035 is the original creator?

Lee Junseong let out a hollow laugh.

It wasn’t the first time Han Yoorim did something strange, but this was new.

Splitting herself from the past and putting it as the original creator? He couldn’t even imagine why she’d do that.

She probably had some bizarre personal reason, but he didn’t really want to know.

Peeking into the mind of a madwoman is too much for a sane person.

Lee Junseong checked the details of <RE: Snowball Garden>.

‘Action Adventure Cinematic Game’. A genre often chosen by AAA games, and one that suited Han Yoorim’s exceptional quality, despite being a solo developer.

An ‘Academy Martial Arts Action Adventure Cinematic Game’ made by Han Yoorim.

It looked pretty fun.

So, when’s the release?

Let’s see.

[10]

The screen displayed the number in bold.

October release? That’s faster than I thought—

—9, 8, 7.

……?

Caught off guard by the sudden countdown, Lee Junseong was stunned.

The number reached 0. And a link popped up.

Clicking it, he saw the newly registered <RE: Snowball Garden>.

So, it’s releasing right now?

If that’s the case, why did she upload the PV?

Shaking his head in disbelief, Lee Junseong downloaded the game and launched it.

Yoorim Company!

Hearing Han Yoorim’s signature voice, Lee Junseong pressed the start button.

Alright, let’s see what kind of game this is.