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Then, finding himself ridiculous, he let out a chuckle and shook his head.

He must have been crazy for a moment. Otherwise, there was no reason to keep thinking of Chaehyun.

“There’s nothing like that, so stop prying. Who would I even meet?”

“It’s fishy no matter how I look at it…”

“Do you want to die?”

“Okay, okay. My bad.”

Only after hearing a death threat did Seo Jaeyoon finally withdraw his suspicious gaze. Then, with a dejected face, he picked up a beef sushi and grumbled.

“Just try asking me for a blind date later because you’re lonely.”

“Stop dreaming; that’s never going to happen.”

With that, the noisy topic vanished pointlessly.

A brief silence fell between the two, and once again, it was Seo Jaeyoon who broke it first. Han Jiho was eating fruit with a calm expression.

“Ah, right. So, what happened with Hepari?”

At that question, Han Jiho, who was picking out watermelon seeds, let out a sigh.

In the end, it comes back around to Hepari. It was almost impressive how a guy who claimed to be too busy to even sleep, let alone play games, found out about it.

“What do you mean, what happened? Didn’t you see the post?”

“I saw it, but I’m curious about the exact details. Do you know how shocked I was when I saw that? I was so pissed off I couldn’t even focus on filming. I was worried, too.”

Seo Jaeyoon, who had been muttering curses, sneakily studied his friend’s reaction, and Han Jiho answered while pretending not to notice.

“What’s written there is everything. I just stepped in shit while playing a game, I guess. It’s not the first time I’ve been suspected of using hacks. You know that.”

“I know. I know, but…”

Unlike Han Jiho, who spoke calmly, Seo Jaeyoon’s face hardened at the word ‘hack,’ and his voice trailed off. He knew all too well how much that issue had tormented his friend.

Han Jiho looked at Seo Jaeyoon for a moment and continued with a still-composed face.

“If you’re that curious, read the reply. It’s explained well there.”

“A reply? What reply?”

“You didn’t see it?”

“No. I only took a quick look at the post Hepari wrote. Hold on.”

At those words, Seo Jaeyoon grabbed his phone from the sofa and tapped the screen a few times. He paused for a moment after seeing something, then showed a post, asking if this was what he meant.

There, a post written by ‘cocogus’, Chaehyun, was displayed.

“Yeah.”

As Han Jiho nodded, Seo Jaeyoon wore an expression of disbelief.

“Whoa. JoJo. Was the clan you said you joined 1225?”

“Yeah. Why?”

Was it really that surprising?

Seeing him stare blankly in confusion, Seo Jaeyoon began to pour out stories like a motor-mouth in an excited tone. He looked like an otaku who had just dropped his ‘normal person’ persona.

“No, this clan has been around since the game launched, so they’re famous for being ‘rotten water’ (hardcore veterans). They probably have the most Raid First Kills, too. Ah, that’s right. And the vice-leader here was a regular on the Sasa-ge (Incident Report Board) because he was always being targeted.”

If it was the vice-leader of 1225, it definitely meant Chaehyun.

But to be a regular on the Sasa-ge.

“Why?”

And the answer that followed was completely unexpected.

“They say his personality was kind of trashed.”

“Really?”

He couldn’t believe it. Chaehyun was the kindest and gentlest person he had met.

Of course, he had a somewhat persistent side and a slightly overwhelming side, but wasn’t that entirely due to the fact that he was his fan?

If it weren’t for that, he could have been good friends with Chaehyun.

The more he thought about it, the more his regret grew. He felt resentful of his own situation where he couldn’t even make friends easily.

Unaware of Han Jiho’s feelings, Seo Jaeyoon continued the story as if sharing juicy gossip.

“But honestly, I haven’t experienced it firsthand, so I don’t know for sure. I only saw the posts on Sasa-ge. Looking at it, it seemed like he fought a lot with people who were ‘Suk-ko’ (Expert Cosplayers) when running raids in public parties. And he supposedly used sub-accounts to hunt down and kill people who were smurfing to bully newbies in PvP.”

“What’s ‘Suk-ko’?”

“Expert Cosplayer.”

“Why would they do that?”

“So people without skill can get into high-difficulty raids.”

Mulling over those words, Han Jiho furrowed his brows. Hearing these stories, he didn’t particularly think his personality was ‘trashed.’

Setting aside the ‘Expert Cosplayers’ since he didn’t know much about it, high-level users using sub-accounts to bully newbies was considered bad manners and was criticized in almost every game.

Since it was a problematic behavior that could even lead to sanctions depending on the situation, Chaehyun’s actions could be considered justified.

Yet, he was targeted and criticized instead?

“Why would he get cursed at for killing smurfs? Isn’t that something one could do? I did that a lot with sub-accounts when I played Gen-Force.”

But he had never been targeted or criticized like Chaehyun. It was because everyone was busy playing the game.

“Hey. It’s different from Gen-Force. EOE’s main focus is RPG, so the atmosphere is very different from Gen-Force. There are so many bastards who are over-immersed. There are plenty of guys who think Sasa-ge is the principal’s office.”

Shaking his head, Seo Jaeyoon continued.

“Honestly, I didn’t understand why he was being cursed at either. It’s just people being salty and playing politics because they feel bad, I guess. Those kinds of people always have the loudest voices.”

“That’s true.”

At the mention of ‘playing politics,’ Han Jiho nodded with an understanding face.

Politics in games shared a lot with the proverb “The one who farted is the one who gets angry first.” Generally, the one who committed the fault had the loudest voice.

Just looking at Hepari proved it. He was the one who did wrong, yet didn’t he try to frame someone else by manipulating evidence?

What would it have been like if Chaehyun hadn’t been there?

After imagining it for a moment, Han Jiho let out a sigh. He hadn’t asked for the replay code for no reason. He must have anticipated things would turn out like this early on.

Seo Jaeyoon, sneakily checking the mood of Han Jiho whose expression had suddenly darkened, continued loudly.

“Anyway, they’re so popular and all, so I actually submitted an application to join once. But I got rejected.”

“Why?”

“I really wanted to join so bad that I appealed a bit by saying I’m a celebrity. But they rejected me, saying they don’t need celebrities or anything like that.”

“Seriously?”

“Would I lie? I’m telling you, that was the first time I’d been ignored like that since my rookie days!”

At the unexpected and absurd story, Han Jiho couldn’t help but laugh. Thinking about that situation was almost ridiculous.

“Don’t laugh. It’s embarrassing.”

Playfully glaring, Seo Jaeyoon spoke while eating a piece of watermelon that had been cleanly de-seeded.

“But it really is fascinating.”

“What is?”

“The fact that you joined there. And that a Sasa-ge ‘Named’ (famous player) I’ve only heard about wrote a post like that for you.”

It was the same for Han Jiho. Not only was the user he happened to meet in the game his fan, but he even wrote a rebuttal post on his behalf.

Regardless of what Chaehyun’s intentions were, to Han Jiho, who knew the truth, it felt beyond fascinating—it felt special.

“So, how is he?”

Seo Jaeyoon, leaning his chin on his palm with his elbow on the table, asked abruptly.

“What is?”

“The vice-leader. Is his personality really trashed?”

Han Jiho shook his head firmly. He had never thought that while looking at Chaehyun.

“No. He’s kind. He treats me well.”

It wasn’t just a level of being kind and treating him well, but Han Jiho summed it up that way. It was to prevent Seo Jaeyoon from becoming a ‘Question Mark Murderer’ (someone who asks endless questions).

“Really? Then I guess those were just rumors. Ah, wait a sec. Didn’t you say last time that the clan members were your fans?”

“I did.”

“No way, even Ko-jwa…?”

After shifting his eyes for a moment to gauge the reaction, Han Jiho nodded instead of answering. Seo Jaeyoon was letting out continuous exclamations at the realization he hadn’t even guessed.

“Wow, so it turns out like this. I guess the world’s strongest healer really is different. Joining a clan that even rejects celebrities so easily—your ‘clan spoon’ (background) is insane. Don’t go pretending you don’t know me later, okay?”

“What are you talking about?”

Han Jiho wore a look of disgust at Seo Jaeyoon’s sudden talk about the ‘world’s strongest healer.’ Every time he heard things like that, instead of feeling proud, he felt so embarrassed he couldn’t stand it.

But Seo Jaeyoon, with a face full of mischief, didn’t stop.

“Please give me an autograph, Mr. Healer!”

“Ah, I told you to stop.”

“The strongest healer, Han Jiho! Milky-white skin, Han Jiho!”

He eventually even started waving both hands while shouting childishly bright cheering slogans.

“…You crazy bastard.”

Han Jiho, who had been grimacing in disgust, finally burst into laughter. The Hepari incident was forgotten before he knew it.