The sun hadn't even risen when Jeon Il's phone lit up with notifications. His room—a shrine to half-finished energy drinks and crumpled snack wrappers—hummed with the glow of his screen. Sunday. No school. No responsibilities. Just simping.
He scrolled through his female classmates' social media profiles, fingers moving with the precision of a caffeinated pianist.
[Comment on Ji-eun's selfie: "Aww, you're literally glowing! 😍"]
[Comment on Soo-min's vacation pic: "That dress was MADE for you!"]
[Comment on Hye-jin's lunch photo: "Who needs Michelin stars when you're the chef? 👩🍳"]
Ding!
Ding!
Ding!
[+3 Simp Coins!]
[+2 Simp Coins!]
[+4 Simp Coins!]
By noon, his eyes were bloodshot, his thumbs numb. But the app's counter ticked upward relentlessly: 983 Simp Coins. He'd commented on every post, DM'd answers to homework pleas, and even digitally white-knighted a girl arguing with a troll about K-pop biases.
"Why does Soo-min get 5 coins for a 'thanks ❤️' but Ji-eun only gives 2?" Jeon Il muttered, slumping against his pillow. The app's algorithm remained a mystery—did sincerity matter? Or was it sheer volume? Either way, his bank account of cringe was booming.
--
Jeon Il tapped the [SHOP] icon, greeted by a grid of skills glowing like loot boxes:
[Skill: Speed Reading]
[Cost: 100 Coins]
[Requirements: 15 Agility, 20 Intelligence]
[Effect: Read faster. (Wow. Revolutionary.)]
[Skill: Basic Boxing]
[Cost: 100 Coins]
[Requirements: 10 Strength]
[Effect: Throw a punch without dislocating your shoulder.]
His cursor hovered over two locked skills at the bottom:
[Skill: Acquire Qi]
[Cost: 1,000 Coins]*l
[Requirements: 50 Strength]
[WARNING: May cause existential dread.]
[Skill: Acquire Mana]
[Cost: 1,000 Coins]
[Requirements: 50 Intelligence]
[WARNING: Not compatible with mortal brains.]
Jeon Il whistled. "Qi? Mana? This app's got layers."
But first, the basics. He converted 500 Coins into 100 Simp Points, wincing as his balance dropped to 483.
---
Jeon Il's stats hovered onscreen, taunting him:
<
Constitution: 7
Strength: 7
Agility: 7
Intelligence: 7
Appearance: 6
"Let's experiment," he said, dropping 1 Point into Constitution.
A warm ripple spread through his chest. Onscreen, his avatar's posture straightened, veins faintly glowing. In the mirror, his dark circles lightened.
"Whoa. Subtle, but… nice."
Next, Strength. His avatar's muscles twitched like cables under skin. Jeon Il flexed—a faint ridge appeared on his bicep. "Am I… jacked?!"
Agility made his joints hum. Intelligence hit like a double espresso, equations solving themselves in his mind.
Emboldened, he dumped 20 Points into each stat (except Appearance—no need to look too good yet).
<
Constitution: 30
Strength: 30
Agility: 30
Intelligence: 30
Appearance: 6
His body crackled. Vision sharpened. Thoughts raced. He leapt off the bed—and nearly headbutted the ceiling.
"Holy shit!" He stared at his hands. "I'm a superhero!"
---
Jeon Il grabbed Diary of a Simpy Kid, flipping pages. Words blurred. Chapters devoured. He finished it in 90 seconds.
"This… is illegal," he whispered, grinning.
He bought [Speed Reading] for 100 Coins, and the world slowed. Pages turned themselves. Text imprinted on his brain. By midnight, he'd plowed through his entire semester's syllabus.
"Top of the class? More like top of the world."
---
Jeon Il's morning began with the metallic groan of his apartment's pipes as he splashed water on his face, droplets sliding down a jawline that felt sharper than yesterday. He stared at the bathroom mirror, fingers prodding biceps that strained against his threadbare pajamas. 30 Strength, the app had promised. It wasn't lying.
Moonlight City stretched beyond his window—a sprawl of squat concrete buildings and flickering neon signs advertising 24-Hour Kimbap and PC Bangs. No universities here, just five nearly identical high schools (1st Moonlight to 5th Moonlight) and the distant promise of a better life in neighboring cities. Jeon Il tugged on his uniform, polyester sleeves clinging to forearms that could've belonged to a part-time lumberjack. Play it cool. No one notices a glow-up in week-old polyester.
He triple-checked his backpack: crumpled homework, a half-dead pen, and his phone—the real MVP. No way he'd forget that. As he stepped into the hallway, the scent of stale kimchi and laundry detergent hit him. Aunt Xu, his middle-aged neighbor, was hanging damp shirts on a collapsible rack, her perm defying gravity as usual.
"Morning, Aunt Xu," he said, forcing cheer.
She glanced up, nodded, and returned to her chore. No small talk. Perfect.
His phone buzzed.
[+2 Simp Coins: Compliment Attempt (Neighbor Interaction).]
Jeon Il froze mid-step. Wait—talking counts too?He'd assumed the app only tracked his cringey DMs and white-knighting. Voice recognition? The implications hit him like a judo throw: every interaction, every mumbled "thanks" to a convenience store clerk, could be grindable.
He smirked and bounded down the stairwell, sneakers slapping against chipped tiles.
This city's gonna fund my ascension.
---
His bike waited outside—a rusted relic with a chain that screeched like a banshee. Jeon Il swung his leg over the seat, muscles flexing unconsciously. The app's 30 Constitution made the 20-minute ride to 5th Moonlight High feel like a leisurely stroll. He wove through traffic, past mom-and-pop stores and ajummas haggling over cabbages, his mind racing.
New plan: Simp IRL. Compliment the lunch lady. Hold doors. Smile at strangers like I'm running for mayor.
He tested it at a red light. An elderly man shuffled across the crosswalk, and Jeon Il blurted, "Nice hat, sir!"
The man squinted. "It's a handkerchief."
[+1 Simp Coin: Effort Acknowledged.]
Worth it.
---
The school gates loomed—a sagging chain-link fence decorated with peeling banners proclaiming 5th Moonlight High: Pride of the District! Jeon Il skidded to a stop, kicking up gravel. Students streamed past in identical uniforms, oblivious to the storm of Simp Coins churning in his pocket.
He parked his bike between a scooter and a dented trash can, fingers lingering on his phone. Time to farm.
"Morning, Eun-suk!" he called to a girl adjusting her hair ribbon.
She blinked. "Do I… know you?"
[+3 Simp Coins: Generic Greeting Deployed.]
"Just spreading good vibes!" He flashed a thumbs-up and strode toward the entrance, ignoring her confused stare.
Inside, the hallway buzzed with pre-class chatter. Jeon Il's enhanced Agility let him dodge backpacks and rogue soccer balls effortlessly. He nodded at a janitor mopping up spilled milk.
"Hard at work, huh?"
The janitor grunted.
[+1 Simp Coin: NPC Acknowledged.]
NPC? Rude. But the coins kept coming.
He paused at a vending machine, buying a banana milk for a freshman clutching empty pockets.
"H-here," he said, shoving it into her hands.
"Oh! Thank y—"
"No need!" He power-walked away before she could finish.
[+15 Simp Coins: Subtle Hero Play.]
God, this is exhausting.But his wallet glowed with 237 Coins.
---
Jeon Il leaned against his locker, catching his reflection in the scratched metal. His hair fell in artfully messy waves, and his uniform now fit like it had been tailored by a lovesick seamstress. A group of second-years whispered nearby, eyes darting toward him.
"Is that… Kim Jeon Il?"
"Did he get contacts?"
"Nah, probably just Photoshop IRL."
He smirked. Let them talk. The app's notifications flickered in his peripheral vision like a slot machine jackpot.
[Total Simp Coins: 257.]
Then the universe dropped its first boss fight into his lap.
"Again with the lunch money?"
Jeon Il turned.
Showtime.
--
"Again with the lunch money?" Yuna whispered, voice trembling. "I… I don't have any left."
Soo-yeon smirked, twirling a lock of salon-perfect hair. "Then maybe ask Daddy for an allowance. Oh wait—"
Jeon Il froze. Bullying? Here? His old self would've scrolled past, heart racing, thumbs itching to type "U okay?" in the group chat. But his new stats hummed in his veins—30 Agility, 30 Strength, 30 Intelligence—screaming DO SOMETHING.
Leo materialized beside him, eyes wide. "Dude, don't. Soo-yeon's Student Council. Martial Arts Club. She'll break you."
Jeon Il's phone buzzed.
[New Quest: White Knight Complex. Objective: Intervene. Reward: 100 Simp Coins + Hero Complex (Level 1).]
"Since when do I get quests?" Jeon Il muttered.
"What?" Leo hissed.
"Nothing. Cover me."
---
Jeon Il lunged, catching Soo-yeon's wrist mid-swing. The hallway froze.
"Let. Her. Go."
Soo-yeon's perfectly contoured brow arched. "Who the hell are you?"
Jeon Il's mind raced. Combat skills: Zero. Stats: OP. Plan: ???
He tapped his phone, pulling up the skills menu. Basic Judo glowed—100 Coins, no prerequisites. Sold.
[Skill Acquired: Basic Judo (Level 1). Effect: Throw people. Pretend you meant to.]
Knowledge flooded him—hip throws, arm locks, the sweet science of gravity-assisted faceplants.
Soo-yeon yanked free, heel snapping toward his ribs. Jeon Il's 30 Agility kicked in; he sidestepped, grabbed her arm, and—
THUD.
Soo-yeon hit the floor, skirt askew, pride shattered. The hallway erupted in gasps.
"Before picking on others," Jeon Il said, channeling every anime protagonist he'd ever mocked, "make sure you're not the weak one."
[+100 Simp Coins! Hero Complex (Level 1) Activated: +10% Confidence (Temporary).]
---
Yuna stared at him, glasses fogged with tears. "Why… why did you help me?"
Jeon Il scratched his neck. "Uh… because it's wrong?"
[+5 Simp Coins: Half-Truth Detected.]
Damn it.
Leo dragged him away as whispers spread like wildfire:
"Is that Kim Jeon Il?"
"Since when is he ripped?"
"Did he join a cult?"
Soo-yeon rose, dusting off her skirt. "This isn't over, simp."
Jeon Il smirked. "Looking forward to it."
---
By third period, whispers about Jeon Il's metamorphosis had metastasized into full-blown myths. The boy who once dozed through lectures now radiateд the chaotic energy of a TED Talk host on amphetamines.
Math
Mr. Park, a grizzled algebra veteran with a grudge against happiness, scrawled a problem on the board:
```
Solve for x :
2(3x + 5)² – 7 = 121
```
"Jeon Il!" he barked. "Entertain us."
Jeon Il's 30 Intelligence ignited. The equation unraveled in his mind like a zipper:
1. Add 7 to both sides → 2(3x + 5)² = 128
2. Divide by 2 → (3x + 5)² = 64
3. Square root both sides → 3x + 5 = ±8
4. Solve both cases → x = 1 or x = -13/3
He scribbled the answer in three seconds flat, numbers bleeding into a manic shorthand only calculators could love.
Mr. Park squinted. "…Correct. Are you… cheating?"
"Nope." Jeon Il leaned back, Hero Complex (Level 1) surging. "Just motivated."
[+10 Simp Coins: Humblebrag Success.]
English
Ms. Han, a Romanticism devotee, wasn't impressed by brute-force math. She brandished a Blake poem:
"What the hammer? What the chain? / In what furnace was thy brain?"
"Jeon Il! Analyze the industrial metaphors here."
His mind blanked. 30 Intelligence covered quadratic equations, not 18th-century symbolism. Shit.
"Uh… It's about… factories?" Jeon Il stalled, scanning the room for clues. A poster of Frankenstein glared back. "Wait—the 'furnace' is the Industrial Revolution's… uh… soul-crushing machinery?"
Ms. Han's eyebrow twitched. "Adequate. Sit."
[+5 Simp Coins: Bullshitting 101.]
He'd dodged disaster, but barely.
History
Mr. Kim, a Korean War buff, lobbed a grenade: "Name three tactical errors during the Battle of Incheon."
Jeon Il's upgraded memory spat out textbook bullet points:
1. Underestimating tidal flats.
2. Delayed PVA reinforcements.
3. Overextended supply lines.
"Textbook answers," Mr. Kim sniffed. "But why did MacArthur ignore the tides?"
Jeon Il froze. The app hadn't gifted him historical empathy. "Because… he was… a simp?"
Snickers erupted.
"Get out."
Chemistry
Lab partners recoiled as Jeon Il eyeballed 30 mL of sulfuric acid like it was ketchup. "Relax," he said, calculating molar ratios in his head. "It's just H₂SO₄."
When the solution bubbled neon pink (a reaction he'd somehow improvised ), the teacher confiscated his goggles. "Genius doesn't excuse pyromania."
Jeon Il aced every quantitative challenge:
- Physics: Calculated projectile velocity mid-dodgeball.
- Biology: Labeled all 206 human bones in 90 seconds.
But qualitative queries left him exposed:
- Ethics Class: "Is utilitarianism moral if it harms minorities?" → "Depends on the Simp Coin yield."
- Art: "Interpret this abstract sculpture." → "Looks like my sleep schedule."
---
Yuna lingered at his desk, eyes wide. "How are you… doing this?"
Jeon Il flashed a grin, Hero Complex glowing. "Turns out I'm a late bloomer."
[+20 Simp Coins: Sustained Mystique.]
Truth was, his stats were a buffed façade—a gifted athlete who still failed essay questions, a human calculator allergic to nuance. But let them wonder.
---
Yuna cornered him at lunch, clutching a bento box. "I… made this. To say thanks."
Jeon Il blinked. The box held rice balls shaped like hearts. Awkward.
"You didn't have to—"
"I know!" Yuna blushed. "But you risked getting hurt for me. No one's ever… cared like that."
Jeon Il's phone vibrated.
[Yuna's Affection Meter: 15%. WARNING: DO NOT CONFESS.]
"Uh. Cool. Thanks." He grabbed the box, fleeing to the roof.
---