The Count’s Youngest Son is a Player

Buzzing.

People lined up in long queues.

“Don’t cut in line!”

“It doesn’t change the results whether you go first or not!”

“Those who have already checked their results, please leave! Doing it twice won’t change anything.”

A large gymnasium. Hundreds of capsule-like machines were neatly arranged inside. The difference was that these machines didn’t have glass lids.

And they didn’t excrete any special liquid necessary for connection, either. People in line took their turns, lying down in the capsule-like machines, connecting a few wires, and undergoing tests.

There was a large banner hanging on the front wall of the gymnasium.

Connect Suitability Temporary Testing Center.

This was a temporary testing center to check whether individuals could connect to Connect. After the announcement about the end of the open beta service, it wasn’t just the Connect players who were shocked.

“What about those of us who weren’t lucky enough to get a capsule!”

“Allowing only those with capsules to choose is outright discrimination!”

“What is the government doing? Shouldn’t they give us a chance to choose the official service too?”

Outraged citizens started protesting in front of Connect Corporation headquarters, and the discontent spread to governments worldwide.

The feasibility and reality of giving up one’s physical body on Earth to connect to Connect didn’t matter. After two gate waves, people had come to a realization.

Death was not so distant. Confronted by ruined cities and brutal monsters, they couldn’t hide their anxiety. And the official Connect service seemed like a form of insurance against potential future calamities.

Stories of people narrowly surviving in capsules and reports of individuals living in Connect despite dying in reality kept surfacing across various media and community platforms.

‘Although hard to believe, what if staying alive there is an option?’

‘Damn it. I’ve lost my home and job already, why stay in a place where monsters keep pouring out?’

This collective sentiment led to organized actions. Some suggested using the ‘Affordable Public Capsules’ commercialized a few months ago, but realistically, that wasn’t feasible.

The public capsules could store up to ten accounts. Moreover, each time a different person used one, it required a fresh setup, meaning at most ten people could be processed in a day just to set up new accounts.

Therefore, capsule cafes operated on a reservation and period basis. Luckily, Connect Company proposed a solution before the issue escalated further.

“Although you won’t be able to connect directly to Connect, we will enable temporary account creation.”

They then installed numerous temporary access terminals (testers) at designated spots in various countries. However, during this process, a crucial fact was revealed.

Not everyone can connect to Connect. To connect via a capsule, a minimum compatibility (synchronicity) was required. Hence, dNA information like hair samples was requested when applying for a capsule.

“That explains why early users had so many rankers.”

“It wasn’t just extensive playtime, after all.”

Upon learning the information, some felt their questions were answered. But more were outraged.

“Does that mean they prioritized high compatibility in the lottery all this time?”

“I thought it was equal chances for everyone… This is a scam!”

Of course, Connect Company had never disclosed the specifics of the lottery odds. In any case, arguing over it now wasn’t going to change anything.

People swallowed their complaints and headed to the testing centers in groups. Hoping that they would be deemed compatible.

*

“This is ridiculous! How am I not compatible?”

“Please, test me again. There’s got to be a mistake!”

“How can my child be deemed incompatible? Isn’t there an issue with the testing method?”

As tests proceeded, grievances poured out. Far fewer people than expected were deemed compatible. The rate was less than 10%.

Only one out of ten people received a fit diagnosis. In a way, this was to be expected. The capsules were, after all, devices for interdimensional soul transfer.

Compatibility essentially meant having the strength of soul necessary to withstand dimensional transfer. Very young children had unstable souls and couldn’t withstand the transfer’s pressure.

Older individuals had a strong bond between body and soul, with their soul’s power already significantly depleted. In the end, those with high compatibility were predominantly in their twenties to forties, the young and middle-aged.

And many of them were already connected to Connect via capsules, leading to a lower compatibility rate among those undergoing tests later.

‘So, from the beginning, connect needed young and strong individuals from Earth.’

Whoever created the Connect system was indeed ruthlessly practical. Raul looked at the screen showing the protesting citizens with a bitter expression.

But what could he do?

Some things were simply impossible. Connect Corporation had repeatedly warned that those with low compatibility could die during the connection process.

In reality, it wasn’t just a matter of dying; their souls could be obliterated. There was another reason for Raul’s bitterness.

‘There is a way to connect to Connect even with low compatibility.’

Connect Corporation hadn’t revealed everything to the public. The original capsules, not the public ones. Through these, even those with low compatibility could connect to Connect.

But the supply was very limited, so not everyone could get a chance. Currently, these original capsules were secretly supplied to select individuals.

The first priority, unsurprisingly, were government officials and politicians from various countries. Despite Connect Corporation’s unique technology and powerful influence, maintaining operations was difficult without cooperation from the governments.

Thus, from the beginning, there were allocations specifically for governments, and that was still the case.

Second, influential entrepreneurs and celebrities. Capsules were given to companies cooperating in production, as well as notable individuals, scholars, and researchers beneficial to Connect.

Lastly, families of top Connect rankers were targeted. This was to ensure that family ties wouldn’t prevent rankers from choosing Connect.

‘…This is inevitable.’

Raul had once thought this was unfair. He had considered revealing this to the public. But that was impossible. If the truth came out, could people understand?

‘Of course not.’

The original capsules were custom-made, one-person equipment. However, desperate individuals believe what they want to believe. People would do anything to get an original capsule for themselves or their families.

If it ended with mere theft, that would be fortunate; more likely, it could escalate into anti-government protests or riots. In a situation where another gate wave could start at any moment, the government losing control over the populace would be catastrophic.

And another reality remained.

Raul also wanted the ranker players.

Earth was important. But Raul’s home was no longer Earth but Connect. To protect Connect, he needed as many skilled individuals as possible. Even if it seemed selfish, there was no other choice.

Connect was what mattered more to Raul at the moment. This was why he had encouraged Ilwoo to cross over to Connect. Ultimately, the fact that not all Earthlings could move to Connect suggested something significant.

‘Fewer people might choose Connect than expected.’

Raul’s face showed concern.

*

“Chairman, here are the lists and proposals from those requesting meetings.”

In the office of Calix Castle. Men in suits were holding a meeting with Raul. They were executives of First Company. The actual decision-makers handling daily operations.

“Ha, this is something.”

Raul looked at the stack of documents with a disdainful expression.

“So, who exactly has reached out to us?”

“Not just the G20 member nations, but almost every government with a stationed diplomat in Korea. And a considerable number of global corporations have also contacted us.”

“Sigh.”

Raul took out a few folders and skimmed through them.

Clack.

Clack.

Clack.

The speed at which he read accelerated. The contents were almost identical.

Thunk.

Raul put the documents down on the table, massaging his temples as he leaned back in his chair.

‘These damn people.’

He barely swallowed the curses that were about to escape. The requests from various governments were essentially the same. If the situation on Earth worsens, we are considering relocating to Connect to preserve our citizens and national continuity.

Given the differences in political systems and environments between Earth and Connect, we would require assistance to adapt.

To prevent the chaos that may arise from the mass migration, we request that you allocate a region in the Forbidden Zones for temporary government use. Additionally, we hope you will support us with funds and resources for reconstruction.

If you cooperate, we will continue to allow players to operate within the Purple Guild as they do now. Clearly, the number of people who would remain on Earth far outnumbered those who would migrate to Connect.

Still, considering migration essentially meant abandoning those who were left behind. Moreover, the most infuriating part was the audacious demeanor of these requests.

‘Unbelievable.’

They seemed utterly unaware of their predicament. Saying they would allow player activities within the Purple Guild if they cooperated. Conversely, this implied they would restrict player guild activities if they didn’t cooperate.

They might control national governments and their citizens on Earth, but did they truly believe they could control players after migrating to Connect?

‘In a situation where they should be begging for favors, they resort to threats?’

This was particularly prevalent among the more powerful nations, making Raul scoff. Corporate proposals differed little in essence. They too wanted land and gold in Connect, offering Earth’s currency, shares, and patents in return.

‘What use is any of that to me now?’

Ever since the gates appeared, First Company had completely ceased gold exchange operations. Once the connection between Earth and Connect was severed, such things held no value for Raul.

It was laughable if they thought Earth’s technology held significant value here.

“All these offers are declined. Tell them if they want to negotiate, they need to come up with proper terms. Oh, and what I actually want is…”

Hearing Raul’s specific demands left the executives visibly shocked.

“Do you think they will agree to such terms?”

“It won’t be easy, but we will proceed as you instructed.”

Watching them leave with skeptical expressions, Raul subtly lifted the corners of his mouth.

‘They might think that now, but will they later?’

An opponent who had already revealed their true intentions was the easiest prey. Raul intended to extract as much as possible from them—not for his own sake, but for the benefit of those who would remain on Earth.

Meanwhile, on Earth, hundreds of buses carrying First Company employees and their families were heading somewhere in a long convoy. At the front of the procession, Ilwoo’s eyes glinted.

‘Is it there?’

A hillside with no notable buildings. Beyond it, a new refuge awaited them.

(To be continued)