In a dark, silent arcade.
All the other machines had stopped, their screens off, surrounded by stillness.
In the center of the arcade, a single, massive game machine buzzed with rough noise, radiating the unique warmth of machinery.
The only machine still powered on in the entire arcade had a small child sitting in front of it.
The boy was dressed in a baggy hospital gown that didn't fit his small frame, his head covered by a beanie, his skin pale from lack of sunlight.
"…"
The boy stared at the large game screen.
On the screen, marred with static, a single phrase flickered:
— CONTINUE?
Would you like to continue?
Next to that phrase, the number ticked back and forth between 1 and 0, also distorted by static.
It wasn't clear, but it seemed to be slowly dropping from 1 to 0.
And when it finally hit 0… the game would be over forever.
"…"
Watching the slowly ticking numbers, the boy felt a strange sense of peace. Perhaps it was a kind of resignation, or maybe he had simply lost interest.
He just stared at the screen with empty eyes.
As if hoping the number would reach 0 soon.
As if waiting for the words "GAME OVER" to flash across the large screen.
At that moment,
"Not going to play anymore?"
A young man's voice echoed from the entrance of the arcade.
Then, the young man walked into the arcade, his footsteps echoing in the quiet space.
"It'd be a shame to stop now, after getting this far. Why not give it one more try?"
"…"
The boy, who had been waiting for the game to end, reluctantly responded.
"I'm sick of this game."
The boy's eyes, still fixed on the screen, held a hint of resentment.
"It's hard. It's painful. And it's not even fun."
"…"
"I'm done."
Step. Step.
The approaching footsteps stopped behind the boy.
The boy glanced back, blinking in surprise.
"Wait, Retro?"
The man resembled the famous streamer RetroAddict that the boy often watched on TV.
…Or so he thought, but upon closer inspection, he realized it wasn't him.
The man's appearance was completely different. Plus, he was dressed in a unique uniform the boy had never seen before.
Why did I mistake him for someone else? The boy tilted his head in confusion.
"Sorry. You just reminded me of someone I know… But who are you?"
The man hesitated for a moment, choosing his words carefully before replying,
"A friend."
He gave a sheepish smile.
"An old friend of RetroAddict's."
"Oh, that makes sense."
The boy scratched his head, still covered by the beanie.
"You don't look anything like Retro, but your vibe is similar. That's why I got confused."
"Haha. I get that a lot. People say Retro and I are quite similar."
The man laughed as he pulled a chair from a nearby game machine and sat next to the boy.
"So, you know a lot about RetroAddict?"
"More or less? After all, I was his first viewer."
"How did you end up watching his stream?"
The boy smiled faintly, recalling the past.
"Retro's a pretty popular game streamer now."
"That's true."
"But back when he first started, he was a total newbie. His stream setup was a mess, and he only played really old games. Because of that, no one watched his stream."
Talking about his favorite streamer seemed to cheer the boy up a bit.
"I was stuck in the hospital, bored out of my mind, so I started wandering around different streams… And that's when I stumbled upon Retro's. A stream with 0 viewers, broadcasting some ancient game that nobody even knew existed."
The boy paused for a moment.
After a brief silence, he continued.
"That was the day I was thinking about dying."
"…"
"Treatment was tough, surgery was scary, I kept throwing up the meds, and I felt so guilty towards my parents… Everything was just so exhausting, I thought maybe it was time to just give up."
The man listened quietly.
"I entered that stream that no one else was watching, and the game looked incredibly difficult. His life bar was almost empty, down to the last sliver, and monsters were closing in from all sides. And I thought to myself…"
The boy lowered his gaze.
"If this guy loses, I'll give up too."
His small, worn-out hands, bruised from countless injections, clenched into fists.
"I decided that I would die that day."
"…"
"But… he beat it."
A faint excitement crept into the boy's voice.
"He actually did it. He was literally on the verge of a game over. But he gritted his teeth and fought desperately… He kept pushing forward, refusing to give up, until he finally reached the final boss and won. He saw the ending."
"…"
"Seeing that… somehow, I didn't want to die anymore."
The boy repeated softly,
"I wanted to live."
The man quietly studied the boy's profile.V/\IssịT n0(v)eL/b(i)(n).𝘤𝑜/𝓂 for the b/est novel reading experi/en/ce
The boy continued.
"Even after that, Retro never gave up. No matter how tough the old games were, no matter how unpopular his stream was… he kept going. Eventually, he cleared every difficult game, and his stream, which no one watched, slowly started to grow."
The boy nodded to himself.
"Watching him, I think I found the courage to keep going too."
Slowly, the boy lifted his gaze to the large game machine in front of him.
"So, I think that's why I kept fighting against this thing."
Still.
— CONTINUE?
The number on the game screen was nearing 0.
"…Well, it's over now."
The boy raised both hands in defeat.
"I'm not playing anymore."
"Why not?"
"Because I can't win."
The boy kicked the game machine's base with his hospital slippers.
"I can't even count how many times I've fought this thing. But no matter how hard I try, I always end up getting knocked out."
"…"
"I watched Retro and found the courage to get back up and try again, over and over."
The boy shook his head slightly.
"But not once… not even once did I win."
"…"
"Even when I tried to hold onto hope, even when I took my meds and went through surgery, things only got worse. The treatment failed, the surgery failed, and my efforts failed. I tried my best, but I can't escape this hell."
A long sigh escaped the boy's lips.
"It's always like this. No matter how hard I try, no matter how much I struggle, the world keeps taking things from me. Nothing changes."
"…"
"I'm done. I don't want to live like this anymore."
Scrreeech.
The boy pushed his chair back and stood up from the game machine.
"Game over."
He declared, ready to turn away from the machine.
But then.
"Kid."
The man suddenly spoke.
"Do you think this world is unfair?"
The boy paused for a moment, then nodded.
"Yes."
"Do you think life is just suffering, even after you've overcome the hardest parts?"
"…Yes."
The man smiled faintly.
"I used to think so too."
"What?"
"This world… I used to think it was a hell where only an iron man could survive, a place full of nothing but pain."
Hell.
Iron man.
The boy mulled over the man's words, his head tilting in confusion.
"You used to think that… does that mean your perspective changed?"
"A little."
The man smiled faintly, reminiscing about his past.
"I used to think that one failure meant it was over… But even when I hit rock bottom, there was someone who reached out to me."
"…"
"Life may be a hell full of suffering, but there are moments, rare but real, where beauty blooms like wildflowers."
The man gestured toward the boy.
"You've had people like that, and moments like that, haven't you?"
"…"
The boy didn't answer right away, but he didn't deny it either.
Standing in front of the boy, the man slowly stood up straight.
"I won't say this world isn't hell. I won't say the world doesn't demand you to be an iron man. But."
The man looked the boy straight in the eyes.
"This world is a far more beautiful hell than you think."
"…"
"And even for people like us, who are far from iron men and full of failures… as long as we don't give up, there's always a chance."
The boy growled softly.
"What are you trying to say?"
"…"
"What did you come here to tell me?"
The boy's voice was tinged with frustration.
"You don't know how hard it is for me, and you're not going to live my life for me! You're not going to take my treatments, my surgeries, throw up in my place, or cry in my place! So what good is your empty consolation…!"
"RetroAddict wanted me to tell you something."
The boy's eyes widened in shock.
The man smiled gently.
"He wanted to tell you to hang in there. That he's rooting for you."
"…"
"And to cheer you on, he cleared the hardest game in the world while you were asleep."
741 game overs.
And a three-year journey.
The man recalled it all.
"Do you know why he did that?"
"…No."
"Because you saved him from hell."
The boy froze.
The man spoke with conviction.
"You reached out to him, introduced yourself, when he was isolated and dying in his own personal hell."
In this hellish world, all that ordinary people who aren't iron men can do is reach out to one another.
And sometimes, that's enough.
The man believed that.
"I know. It's irresponsible. We can't live your life for you. We struggle just to face our own personal hells. We're barely managing to endure the hardest games we've ever faced."
"…"
"But just like you gained courage from that friend."
With all his sincerity,
"That friend gained courage from you."
Hoping that even a little bit of this would reach him.
"We want you to live."
The man said.
"We want you to keep challenging your life, keep trying to conquer your world, and not give up."
"…"
The boy bit his lip.
The man continued.
"Life will still be hard for you. Treatment will still be tough, and continuing to live will still be painful. Even if you overcome one challenge, unimaginable difficulties will keep coming."
"…"
"But still, just one more time. Just one last time."
The man reached into his pocket, pulling something out…
He flicked his fingers and tossed it to the boy.
"Fight again."
The boy caught the object out of reflex.
What the man had thrown him… was an old coin.
As the boy stared down at the coin in his hand, the man smiled warmly.
"It's your choice."
The man turned around.
Then, striding away, he left the arcade.
"…Wait."
The boy hesitated, then shouted urgently.
"Hey, mister! Wait a second!"
The man stopped at the arcade's entrance.
The boy called out to him, his voice trembling.
"How do I repay you for this coin?"
The man chuckled softly,
Then slowly turned around.
"You're not the one who needs to pay it back."
He pointed a finger at the boy.
Then, he raised his thumb, pointing it at himself.
"I'm the one who paid it back."
Leaving the boy with words he couldn't quite understand,
The man opened the arcade door and vanished outside.
"…"
Standing there, the boy stared at the entrance where the man had disappeared for a long time.
Finally… he slowly turned around.
— CONTINUE?
The same old phrase still flickered on the screen, on that infuriating game machine.
The boy walked over to it and plopped back into the seat.
He stared silently at the coin in his hand.
"…One more time."
With the coin clutched in his fist,
"Just one last time."
— Insert A Coin
The boy pushed the coin into the machine's slot.
Clink…
As the coin clattered down, the number that had been so close to 0 suddenly shot back up. A new phrase flashed across the static-filled screen in bright, clear letters.
— Here Comes A New Challenger!
— Get Ready For The Next STAGE
A new challenger has appeared.
Prepare for the next stage.
"…Phew."
Taking a deep breath,
Opening his eyes wide,
The boy's small, dry hand gripped the game's joystick…
— PRESS START
And he pressed the start button with all his might.