The applause hadn't even fully settled when his name was called. "Second place. Liam.."
There was a pause, just long enough to feel intentional, just long enough for the weight of it to land.
"—Yoo."
Liam stepped forward without hesitation, feeling blank for a moment as "second" slammed into his skull. The sting at his throat burned, but he forced it aside, striding up like second place meant nothing, jaw clenched.
Tall and broad-shouldered, his solid frame, built by nature, made people move aside without realising. Their sidelong glances, however, still carved into him—sharp, swift, invisible.
His face, with a strong jaw and clean lines, drew notice with its symmetry. Every Yoo had silver hair and red eyes, undeniable. There was nothing soft or unfinished: he looked complete, unlike other Liams his age. Some crowd members looked twice, some looked away too quickly. If he were someone else, it might have mattered.
It never mattered, not for him. Not with his last name, not with the family he stood behind. Attention never became admiration; it was just caution. People noticed Liam's family first.
So they looked, then they stopped.
Liam didn't notice, or if he did, it never stayed with him.
The principal shook his hand and offered a comment on "great potential." Liam nodded, as if he grasped its meaning.
He didn't.
The applause was polite and controlled, neither proud nor insulting. It was given for technical merit, not desire.
Behind him, they called the next name. "First place, Elizabeth Kim." That got a different reaction. The room shifted, louder, brighter. People leaned in. This applause wasn't polite. It had something behind it.
She looked exactly like a first-place winner should: confident, with pink hair styled just so, fit and poised, radiating quiet assurance and beauty, and a delicate frame.
Liam knew what he'd see, but still looked.
Elizabeth walked up as if she belonged, confident but not arrogant, steady and calm, her smile at the principal unforced.
She didn't seem to struggle for it; she was simply good. Smart without trying, kind without effort, the type of teacher teachers liked and students respected.
Liam didn't hate her. He had tried, but it never lasted. Whenever she spoke, she was normal, never distant or condescending, just nice, unaware of her effect on people like him. Applause continued.Liam stepped off the stage, heart pounding, chest tight from holding his breath. Then it started. At first, relief flickered—then his father's voice sliced through his fragile calm.
"You see that?" His father's words shattered what little peace he'd found. "Second."
Liam stared at the floor, hands tight at his sides. Frustration surged, quickly smothered by shame.
"Second," his father repeated, twisting the word in Liam's gut. "Do you know what that means?"
Confusion and dread warred as Liam stared forward, throat locked, heat crawling up his neck. Shame pressed in, claws dragging.
"No," he croaked, defeated. Silence closed in, all the eyes and disappointment settling over his skin like frost.
His father's hand wrenched his collar, fabric cutting into Liam's neck and wrenching his breath away. Pain stabbed through him, sharp and humiliating. "It means you lost."
Liam blinked, adjusting his footing. "I didn't think it was..."
The hit came fast. Clean. Practiced. Pain exploded, snapping his head to the side. The crowd's eyes stayed on the stage. His mother didn't stop it. She never did. "If you hadn't wasted time in those useless cooking classes, you would have been first."
Liam's ears rang with a dull ache. He didn't argue; arguing never stopped the next hit. It only made it hurt more.
"The Kim family's daughter stands up there so effortlessly," his father continued, grip tightening. "And you just stand here. Do you realise how humiliating that is?"
Liam's gaze shifted. Elizabeth stepped offstage, certificate in both hands. Her family approached, faces bright with pride. She looked happy, smiling, eyes crinkling with joy.
Not relieved, just happy. Relief flickered, but guilt followed, sharp and fast, when Liam looked at his father, searching desperately for something softer in his eyes. It wasn't there. "You were supposed to be first." The next blow was sharper, charged with disappointment. "You're not competing with average people," his father said, grip digging into Liam's skin. "You're competing with them." Pain flared as his father wrenched his gaze to the Kims.
"Look at her."
Liam did, jaw burning, heart pounding. "She wastes nothing," his father said, grip tightening. "She pursues what counts." Liam tasted blood. "And you," his father breathed, voice icy and thin, "are a waste of air if you can't match that." The ceremony's noise pressed in as Liam shrank.
Liam stood in it all, blood warm against his mouth, his father's grip tight on his collar. His shoulders tensed. The sounds of the ceremony faded behind the pounding of his heartbeat and the sting in his nerves.
On his way home, all he thought about was cooking. At home, the food was always already prepared and left in the kitchen wrapped in plastic. Liam would take it, heat it up, and carry it back to his room without speaking to anyone. He would sit down alone and eat in silence.
Every night, the meal was the same: chicken kebabs, mashed potatoes, and broccoli. It never changed, and no one asked if Liam wanted something different.
Food was not shared or discussed. It was just something to finish. On TV, people laughed and enjoyed food; he felt jealous. He wanted warmth and belonging.
When Liam reached home, there was silence. He went straight to his room, shut the door, and locked it. For a moment, he just stood there. Jaw tight, breathing slow. Letting everything from earlier settle into something colder, easier to hold. Then Liam looked toward the corner. The box was still there. Liam moved toward it, crouched down, and pulled it closer. The cardboard was worn, already opened days ago, but untouched since. Liam lifted the lid. The VR headset rested inside. Sleek and black, far too expensive for someone like him.
He paid for it himself. Late shifts, quiet labour. He bused tables, cleared dishes, and shadowed chefs in kitchens.
A calm, omnipresent voice spoke, "Welcome to Aero Online, the first fully immersive virtual environment. All sensory systems are active. Please proceed with character initialisation." A menu flickered into existence, not sliding in or fading, but simply there.
[Select Class.]
Liam skimmed options: damage dealers, Mages, support. He picked Vanguard: takes hits, pressures targets, 30 seconds invincible, 30-minute cooldown. No fast reflexes needed, just position and help. The one who takes blows for everyone else, stubborn and steady. Like at home, absorbing without breaking. Maybe it made sense. He picked it.
The menu pulsed once, then moved on.
[Select Life Skills.]
Liam chose cooking, wanting to be a chef—virtually, at least. He chose live streaming because, other than waiting tables and cooking, he would also live stream a little, using a voice changer and a POV-style camera so nobody could see or hear the real him.
Character creation:
Liam clicked
[Randomize.]
He didn't care what he got as long as he could cook. He confirmed, and the interface disappeared. The world shifted. Liam's balance dropped, and his body felt lighter. He looked down and saw smaller hands and thinner wrists. It wasn't his body anymore. Liam flexed his fingers, and everything responded normally. He took a step forward and then another. The movement felt natural, with no delay or resistance.
Liam reached up and touched his hair. It was still silver-white. His skin was the same pale tone. When he caught his reflection in a faint system panel, his eyes were still red.
Nothing about his appearance had changed except his body shape.
He was shorter now. Smaller and a girl.
Liam looked at himself for a moment and then moved on.
[Enter Name:...]
Names are usually important. Liam's character was now small, so whatever little Liam it is, his fingers hovered over the blue screen in front of him and typed.
Little Liam.
Liam hit the big floating [ENTER] sign and loaded in for the first time. Liam stepped forward and stopped. The world looked real.
The ground had texture. The air felt natural. The light didn't look simulated. When he breathed in, it felt like actual air filling his lungs, not something artificial trying to imitate it.
He stood there for another second, then said, "Status."
A panel appeared in front of him.
[Level cap info:]
[Every 5 levels = +100 cap]
[Every 10 levels = +200 cap]
[+20 stat points per level ]
LEVEL 1
Vanguard
HP: 100 / 100
STAMINA: 100 / 100
DEFENSE: 20 / 100
ATTACK: 15 / 100
SPEED: 15 / 100
EXP: 0 / 1000
[Skills:]
[Bull Rush: Rush target with Shield, causing knock and stun for 3 seconds, 20-second CD][Invincible: 30 seconds of invincibility, 30-minute cooldown.]
[Life Skills:]
[Live Streaming(level 1)]
[Cooking*(level 1)]
There was a small notification next to it.
*Legendary skill unlocked
- [Absorption(Level 1)]
- Consuming parts of monsters will grant Recipes
- Recipes tiers depending on monster rank
- Buffs 10,000x for 24hrs for user
- buffs 100x for 12 hours for other players
- Can be levelled up
Liam read the notification once, then he read it again.
Liam stayed quiet for a few seconds, eyes moving slowly over each line like he was trying to understand what it actually meant. Consuming parts of monsters will grant recipes. That made sense.
Liam didn't realise that was part of the game, must be new, not on the forums yet.
Buffs that also made sense. Then Liam's eyes stopped. Buffs ×10,000 for 24 hours. Liam stared at it, "'…that must be a cooking perk.'
Liam read the notification once, then went back to the first line.
Consuming parts of monsters. He paused. '…consuming.' He frowned and reread it.
'…that's eating, I can eat, as long as it's not a chicken kebab' That part made sense.
The rest didn't Buffs ×10,000. He stared at that for a second longer. 'I guess everyone gets that?'
Liam tapped the panel and waited for a correction. It didn't change. He reread it anyway.
Same numbers. Next, Liam realised that, as a small lady, he must now sound like a girl. He gave it a go: "Hey." He froze, then tried again softly: "Hello."
It was Liam's real-life voice, deep and husky, definitely not a woman's voice. Liam chuckled, then thought, 'I would be freaking a few people out with that one.'
Suddenly, the world around him froze. The air shimmered, colours dimming as if someone had pulled a veil over reality itself. A golden flame flickered into existence before him, hovering in midair.
A message appeared, written in script unlike any system prompt he'd seen:
["The Hearth Goddess Hestia, one of the Twelve Olympians, gazes upon you. She smiles and offers her blessing. Use it well, child of fate."]
For a heartbeat, warmth washed over Liam, so real he could almost smell fresh bread and woodsmoke. Then it was gone. The world snapped back into motion, but the echo of those words lingered.
Liam stood very still, heart pounding. For the first time, he wondered who or what might be watching.