The streets of Seoul were still wrapped in the quiet embrace of dawn when Jun pulled his keys from his jacket pocket, the familiar weight of them a small comfort against the morning chill. At 5:45 AM, the city hadn't yet awakened to its usual chaos of traffic and voices, leaving only the distant hum of early delivery trucks and the soft whisper of his breath in the cool air.
He paused before the glass door of his building, reading the simple sign he'd installed two years ago: Nexus Point PC Bang. The lettering had faded slightly, another reminder of the expenses he couldn't quite afford to address. His right hand—the one that had once commanded a keyboard with the precision of a concert pianist—hesitated for just a moment as he gripped the key. The familiar ache was there, a dull reminder of why he was here instead of competing in the bright lights of a Stellar Command III tournament.
Not today, he told himself, the same quiet mantra that had carried him through seven hundred and thirty mornings since his retirement. Today is about moving forward.
The lock turned with a soft click, and Jun stepped into his domain.
The ground floor of Nexus Point stretched before him in the dim emergency lighting—forty-five gaming stations arranged in neat rows, each one a small island of potential. High-end monitors sat dark and waiting, their screens reflecting the faint glow from the street outside. Ergonomic gaming chairs stood at attention like soldiers awaiting orders, and the subtle RGB lighting strips along each desk waited for his touch to bring them to life.
Jun moved through his morning ritual with practiced efficiency. First, the main power switches—one for each row of stations. Then the climate control, set to maintain the perfect temperature for extended gaming sessions. The coffee machine in the small service area next, its familiar gurgle a comforting sound in the silence. Finally, he climbed the stairs to check the second floor, where his four VR pods waited in their specialized alcoves like sleeping giants.
The VR section was his pride and his burden. Each pod represented a significant investment he'd made six months ago, equipped with full-dive capabilities that most of his customers didn't even know existed. The haptic feedback suits hung neatly in their charging stations, and the environmental control systems hummed softly, maintaining optimal conditions for the advanced training scenarios he'd programmed.
Training scenarios that hardly anyone uses, he reminded himself with a wry smile. The pods were impressive, certainly more advanced than anything his competitors offered, but impressive didn't pay the rent.
Returning to the main floor, Jun approached the central server rack—the heart of his operation. This was where his morning routine took on a quality that he'd never quite been able to explain to himself, let alone anyone else.
He placed both hands on the warm metal surface of the main server, closing his eyes and simply... listening. Not with his ears, but with something deeper. The electronic pulse of the building's systems seemed to flow through his fingertips, and he could sense each component as clearly as if he were reading a detailed diagnostic report.
Station twelve needed a driver update. The router in the northeast corner was running slightly hot. The VR pod in alcove three had a minor calibration drift in its motion sensors. All of this information flowed through him as naturally as breathing, and with barely a conscious thought, he began to address each issue.
His hands moved across the server interface, but it was more than just technical knowledge guiding him. The systems responded to his touch with an eagerness that went beyond mere programming. Drivers updated themselves. Network traffic optimized its own routing. Hardware temperatures stabilized without his direct intervention.
Within ten minutes, all forty-five gaming stations had booted to their home screens in perfect synchronization, each one displaying optimal settings tailored to the preferences of the customers who would use them. The network ran without a hint of lag, and every piece of hardware hummed with quiet efficiency.
Jun stepped back and surveyed his work with satisfaction. Two years of running Nexus Point had taught him that this morning ritual was more than just system maintenance—it was the foundation of everything that made his PC bang special. His customers might not understand why their games ran smoother here than anywhere else, why their connections never dropped at crucial moments, or why the atmosphere always felt just a little more welcoming than other gaming cafes. They just knew that it did.
If only that were enough to keep the lights on, he thought, pulling out his phone to check yesterday's earnings. The numbers stared back at him with their usual disappointing honesty. Rent was due in two weeks, and he was still short by nearly thirty percent.
The soft chime of the front door interrupted his financial calculations. Jun looked up to see Mr. Park shuffling through the entrance, his night-shift security uniform rumpled and his eyes heavy with the particular exhaustion that came from watching empty office buildings until dawn.
"Morning, Mr. Park," Jun called out, his voice carrying the genuine warmth that had become second nature over the past two years. "Station twelve is ready for you, and I've got fresh coffee brewing."
The older man's face brightened immediately, the stress lines around his eyes softening as he stepped fully into the PC bang. "You're a lifesaver, Jun. I swear, this place is the only thing that helps me unwind after those long shifts."
As Mr. Park settled into his preferred station—Jun's memory automatically supplied the man's usual preferences: low-impact strategy games, medium screen brightness, and black coffee with one sugar—Jun felt that familiar sense of satisfaction that came from creating something meaningful. It wasn't the adrenaline rush of tournament competition or the roar of crowds cheering his victories, but it was real in a way that his gaming career had never quite managed to be.
"How's the family?" Jun asked, beginning the morning routine of conversation that was as much a part of his service as the perfectly optimized gaming experience.
"Good, good. My daughter's starting university next month—computer science, if you can believe it. Says she wants to work in game development." Mr. Park chuckled as his game loaded with impressive speed. "I told her she should come talk to you sometime. You probably know more about the industry than most of her professors will."
Jun felt a familiar pang at the mention of his past career, but it was gentler now than it had been even six months ago. "I'd be happy to chat with her anytime. The industry's changed a lot since my competitive days, but the fundamentals are still the same."
"Still can't believe you gave all that up to run this place," Mr. Park said, not for the first time. "Though I have to say, you've got some kind of magic touch with these computers. Never seen a PC bang run this smoothly."
If only you knew, Jun thought, but he just smiled and moved to prepare Mr. Park's coffee. The older man wasn't wrong about the smooth operation, but the explanation was far more complicated than simple technical skill.
As the morning progressed, Jun found himself falling into the comfortable rhythm that had defined his days for the past two years. A few more early customers trickled in—university students grabbing a quick gaming session before classes, office workers like Mr. Park seeking stress relief, and the occasional dedicated gamer who preferred the quiet morning hours for serious play.
Each customer was greeted with the same genuine warmth, their preferences anticipated and accommodated without them having to ask. Jun's memory for details had always been exceptional—a necessity during his competitive gaming days—but lately, it seemed to have developed an almost supernatural quality. He could recall not just what games each customer preferred, but their optimal settings, their usual snack choices, even their preferred social dynamics when gaming with friends.
By 7:30 AM, Nexus Point had settled into its morning rhythm. The soft clicking of keyboards and mice created a gentle percussion, punctuated by the occasional exclamation of victory or frustration. The RGB lighting cast everything in a warm, welcoming glow, and the perfectly calibrated air conditioning maintained an atmosphere that was neither too warm nor too cool.
Jun stood behind his service counter, reviewing the day's schedule on his tablet and trying not to think about the help-wanted sign he'd been considering posting for weeks. The truth was, he needed the assistance—managing forty-five gaming stations, four VR pods, customer service, and basic food preparation was becoming increasingly difficult to handle alone. But hiring someone meant committing to expenses he wasn't sure he could sustain, especially with the larger PC bang chains moving into the neighborhood.
The morning news played softly on the wall-mounted TV, a mixture of political updates, weather reports, and the daily gate activity summary that had become as routine as traffic reports. Jun half-listened as the anchor described a B-rank gate that had appeared near Busan overnight, already being handled by the local guild branch.
Not my world anymore, he reminded himself, though he couldn't quite suppress a flicker of interest. The awakener community was something he observed from the periphery—close enough to understand its importance, distant enough to avoid its complications. His own situation was... unique, and he preferred to keep it that way.
The door chime sounded again, and Jun looked up from his tablet with his practiced welcoming expression. A young woman stood in the doorway, looking around the PC bang with the careful assessment of someone seeing the space for the first time. She was probably in her early twenties, with the slightly rumpled appearance of a university student and the determined expression of someone who had made a difficult decision.
Their eyes met across the gaming floor, and Jun felt something shift in the morning's comfortable routine. There was something about her presence that seemed to resonate with the space itself, as if Nexus Point had been waiting for her arrival.
"Good morning," he called out, his voice carrying its usual warmth but with an undertone of curiosity he couldn't quite suppress. "Welcome to Nexus Point. First time here?"
The young woman stepped fully into the PC bang, and Jun noticed how the atmosphere seemed to brighten slightly around her, as if she carried her own subtle energy that complemented the space he'd created.
"Actually," she said, her voice carrying a mixture of nervousness and determination, "I was hoping to talk to you about the part-time position. I saw your posting online, and I thought..." She paused, looking around at the perfectly organized gaming stations and the customers absorbed in their games. "I thought this might be exactly what I'm looking for."
Jun felt a smile tug at the corners of his mouth. He hadn't posted any job listings online—had been too uncertain about his finances to commit to the expense. But somehow, this young woman had found her way to his door anyway, arriving at the exact moment when he'd been contemplating the help-wanted sign gathering dust in his desk drawer.
Interesting timing, he thought, and gestured for her to approach the counter. "I'm Jun, the owner. And you are?"
"So-young," she replied, extending her hand with a confidence that seemed to grow stronger as she spoke. "And I think we might be able to help each other."
As their hands met in a brief handshake, Jun felt that same subtle resonance he'd noticed when she first entered the space. There was something about So-young that suggested she understood Nexus Point in a way that went beyond its surface appearance as a simple PC bang.
This, he thought as he gestured for her to take a seat at the counter, could be the beginning of something interesting.
The morning routine had taken an unexpected turn, and for the first time in months, Jun found himself genuinely curious about what the rest of the day might bring.