Solo Leveling- Ragnarok-Chapter 270

Beautiful World was the world’s first fully immersive virtual reality game and the game that turned Ahjinsoft into the global corporation it was today.

Back when Jinho had settled on the game’s title, every single executive had been against it, calling it corny and uninspired. But names didn’t matter. Being the first in the world to do something was more than enough.

As an open-world sandbox built on a fully realized metaverse platform, Beautiful World offered endless content and an unparalleled, immersive experience. In addition, it was all offered in VR. It was innovation at its finest, and gamers had been enthralled.

The game industry, however, pointed to one deciding factor that made such a reaction possible—the simultaneous development of the “Game Capsule.”

Jinho had poured every ounce of technological capability into the Game Capsule, the essential device that allowed players to connect to virtual reality.

The technology inside the capsule wasn’t just about improving the game’s performance. Jinho had completely redefined the very environment in which people played games.

The capsule was highly ergonomic, plush, and massaged the entire body. A user didn’t even have to play a game to enjoy it—they could simply lie down in it and experience all their muscles being loosened with a cozy massage. In addition, faint electrical pulses delivered an effect similar to strength training.

Anyone with tech neck or a herniated disc could simply lie down in the game capsule and be noticeably rehabilitated. And because the VR game was designed to be enjoyed with one’s eyes closed, there was no need to worry about eye strain, either.

“The future is already here.”

That was the slogan Jinho had announced upon launching Beautiful World.

However, there had been one major issue in the development process: the price. Jinho sought to create the most perfect VR capsule in existence, but with every adjustment, the price increased. At such lofty prices, no one would want to buy the capsule even if more games were released.

But the problem was resolved surprisingly quickly.

“The price is an issue? Then lend it to them.”

“Wh-what was that, Jinwoo?”

Jinwoo had heard his friend’s concern and nonchalantly offered a tip in passing.

Jinho had reacted as though he’d been slapped in the face, but he then considered the possibility of a capsule rental service. Essentially, it would be a subscription system. He had been so fixated on development that he had overlooked the simplest solution.

“Ah! You’re the best, Jinwoo! I have no idea how you managed to think of something like this.”

“Everyone does subscriptions these days. I have an ant at home who’s obsessed with streaming services.”

“An... ant? Do you have an infestation?”

“Hmm. Well, there are more than a few.”

“Should I send over the extermination service that our offices use?”

“No, they would die.”

“What? Well, that’s the point, since they’re bugs...”

“I meant the exterminators.”

“Huh...?”

And so with Jinwoo’s offhand remark, the capsule rental service was born, propelling Ahjinsoft into an era of unprecedented success.

“Don’t buy. Rent instead!”

“Enjoy full repair services from the comfort of your home!”

Jinho took it a step further.

“We’ll lend these out to other game companies, too!”

That was the dawn of the VR gaming era. Jinho didn’t just rent out the game capsules to users—he made the bold move of leasing them to other companies as well.

“We will focus entirely on the research and development of even better capsules, ensuring that players can enjoy the most comfortable gaming experience possible.”

“You can enjoy other games in our capsule too!”

He emphasized that the capsules belonged to Ahjinsoft. Since the technology itself and all relevant patents belonged to his company, the other game companies began to focus on making content for the device rather than putting huge investments into trying to surpass the technology.

Just as famous tech companies had once shocked the world with innovative smartphones, Ahjinsoft’s reputation skyrocketed, and it became a massive corporation overnight.

Then the Great Cataclysm struck. Gates opened on Earth and magic beasts from another world descended upon humanity. The world reeled in shock.

The game industry also took a hit. Who had time for games when survival itself was at stake?

But crisis bred opportunity. Thanks to hunters like Jinchul and others across the world, humanity quickly adapted to its new reality.

For Ahjinsoft, it became another chance to rise.

Eternal Slumber, a strange sleeping illness, had emerged alongside the Great Cataclysm. Curing the condition was a task for the medical field, but in the meantime, a device was needed to sustain those afflicted.

Without anyone needing to say it, the world found its answer in Ahjinsoft. The Game Capsules, which had been packed with all kinds of medical functions to provide the most comfortable gaming experience, could function as life-support devices for patients of the Eternal Slumber. Even better, the capsules could be modified to use mana crystals as an energy source instead of electricity, making them even more effective.

“And that’s the situation,” Jinho said in conclusion.

He had spent all this time explaining his company to Haein for one reason only.

“No matter how many people you rescue in North Korea, we have more than enough life-support capsules to handle them all.”

Behind him, employees were already unloading capsules from a massive truck. Having bought up every vacant building in the area, they had more than enough space for makeshift hospital wards, and they had all the life-support devices North Korean survivors could need.

“Suho, we’ve got things under control here,” Jinho added. “Just focus on rescuing as many people as you can.”

Reassured by his uncle’s unwavering support, Suho nodded and immediately set off for North Korea to find the next Elvenwood.

“Now then...”

Jinho turned his head. A swarm of reporters had already gathered in Yangpyeong, and this time, it wasn’t Haein they were waiting to interview—he was next. If Haein was the face of goodwill, Jinho was the one responsible for making it all happen.

He declared proudly, “We do not need the support of the government or other hospitals. Ahjinsoft will take matters into its own hands to provide the survivors from North Korea with everything they need.”

As he spoke confidently before the press, he wore the calculated expression of a shrewd businessman. He responded calmly to the journalists as they pelted him with questions.

“I apologize that I can’t answer everything due to time constraints. All I have to say is that I am greatly relieved and thankful. Thanks to the users who continue to support Ahjinsoft, we can do something meaningful for humanity without worrying about the cost. Therefore, the credit does not belong to us. It belongs to our users.”

Even under the dazzling bursts of camera flashes, Jinho’s gaze remained steady.

The reporters wasted no time flooding the internet with headlines, and the accompanying photos featured Jinho’s expression of confidence. The titles were easy enough to guess.

—A Meaningful Contribution to Humanity!

—All Credit Goes to the Users!

Jinho’s words deeply moved gamers who loved virtual reality. This was what he had been after from the start.

My stock values are about to soar, he thought shamelessly.

This was the best part. If you did something good, you had to make sure everyone knew about it.

I can look after myself in that regard.

Jinho’s expression remained proud even after he had stepped away from the interview.

Yes. I did something worthy of praise here. Something worthy of credit.

He gazed at the survivors, who were safely inside the game capsules and beginning to recover. But as he watched, a quiet rage swelled within him.

Jinwoo...

Thanks to Suho, Jinho had recovered all his memories. Most of them were of Jinwoo. Even in this new life, he still respected the man more than anyone else.

That was why he was so angry. He had seen Jinwoo live his life from a better vantage point than anyone.

“Itarim, was it?” Jinho said as he gritted his teeth, his eyes burning.

Right.

He remembered everything about Jinwoo and the broad back of the man who had always stood alone. Jinwoo had always fought his battles by himself, in places no one knew of, all in order to protect the world. Now the peace he had struggled so hard to preserve had been shattered again.

“Because of them, the peace that he maintained through all that hard work has been ruined.”

That was what infuriated Jinho most—the thought that all of his friend’s suffering had been in vain.

He ground his teeth and made a silent promise.

“I will never forgive them.”

He was no longer the reckless man he was back then. The days of watching from the sidelines—of being powerless—were over.

“Harmakan,” he muttered through clenched teeth.

At his call, the demonic spirit who Suho had left behind emerged from the darkness. Jinho had specifically asked Suho to assign Harmakan to him.

“Yes. What do you want me to do?”

Harmakan’s tone carried a hint of displeasure. Being commanded by a mere human who was someone other than his master did not sit well with him.

However, Jinho’s request was more than enough to pique his interest.

“I hear you can use a unique kind of magic. Suho mentioned it.”

“Indeed. I have no equal when it comes to magic. What do you want? A curse? Evil spirits?”

“No. Nothing like that.”

Jinho’s eyes shifted toward the countless Game Capsules before them and the many survivors from North Korea who lay unconscious within.

“I had these stored away because they’re an upgraded version I was about to release soon. They allow hunters to use mana within them. The plan was to use them for virtual reality training for the Solo Leveling project.”

“Ah, mana?”

At those words, Harmakan’s eyes sparkled. He immediately grasped Jinho’s intentions.

“Can you modify these capsules with your magic?” Jinho asked.

“Modify them how?”

“Allow their minds to wake up inside virtual reality.”

“You mean you want me to bring their souls back from the Sea of the Afterlife?”

“What, will that be difficult?”

“Of course it will. However...”

Harmakan cast a glance over the structure of the mana flowing through the capsules, and his lips curled into a knowing smile.

“Let me tell you something. Even now, countless shadow soldiers are floating on that sea in boats. Their coordinates are connected and based on my master’s position.”

“Which means?”

Harmakan grinned. “A place with coordinates is no longer an unknown. As long as they are souls that the soldiers have already discovered, I may be able to modify the devices to recall them in the VR simulation.”

“That’s good. Can you also restore their final memories in VR?”

“That’s much easier than recalling their souls. Instance dungeons are my specialty, after all.”

As they spoke, Harmakan stared at the human who was making such an outrageous request.

This man was nothing more than a D-rank in terms of mana. By all accounts, he was insignificant—someone the demonic spirit would never have spared a second glance. Yet it seemed he was more impressive than he looked.

Harmakan’s eyes gleamed with understanding.

“Your goal isn’t merely to cure Eternal Slumber, is it? You want to use their memories to help my master find out more about the enemies he is to face.”

“And how they can be defeated,” Jinho added.

Their eyes met, and Jinho’s grin was vicious as he repeated the promise he had made.

“This time, I won’t let anyone fight alone.”