[Atlas Online] has been around for more than a decade. The game itself is actually an adaptation of a webnovel titled [I Entered a Romance Novel By Accident].
You play as one of ten selectable characters:
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1. Noah Seongvale — Sword Saint
2. Wei Lian — Spear Demon
3. Ryuma Kento — Sharpshooter
4. Malik Danton — Forge Knight
5. Jake — Commander
6. Seo Ji-Hye — Reaper
7. Victoria Astermont — Puppet Master
8. Han Seora — Constellation Mage
9. Ekaterina Volkhova — Phantom Duelist
10. Nabila Zahra Al-Nasir — Dreamweaver
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Now let me ask you:
Which one of these characters is considered the most useless?
It's Jake.
I mean—who picks Commander in an RPG where most people play solo?
Yeah, yeah, I know. YOU play alone too, you friendless gremlin.
Commander is a class that's entirely team-reliant. Sure, it can use any weapon or skill, no matter the type—but here's the catch: the Commander only gets 30% of the weapon's full potential. That means if a sword has 10 base stats, you get 3. A slap in the face.
Same thing with armor. Whether it's heavy, light, or arcane—doesn't matter. You'll only get 30% of the defensive capabilities.
The players who choose Jake as their main are lovingly referred to by the community as:
[Jaking Off].
And yeah. I'm one of those freaks.
◇◇◇
[Initializing...]
[Synchronizing... 10%... 23%... 47%... 86%... 100%]
[Synchronization complete.]
[Jake → Kylen Noor]
[Welcome, Mr. Noor.]
A chime echoed softly in the void—clear, clinical, absolute.
And then—
"Please welcome the top ten hero cadets of the new year!"
My eyes shot open.
What the hell?
I was already seated in what looked like a massive auditorium. My head throbbed like someone had shoved a bass-boosted migraine into my skull. I groaned, slumping forward and resting my forehead on my hand.
Yeah. I was definitely not in my room.
Suddenly, a hand landed on my shoulder.
I flinched and turned—only to be met with the face of a woman I'd never seen before in my life.
"You okay?" she asked, concern etched all over her face.
"Y-yeah, I'm fine… auntie," I said out of reflex, brushing her hand off politely.
...Wait. I don't have an auntie that young.
...Wait. How do I even understand what she just said? I've never learned Korean in my life.
She frowned, still looking worried. "I told you, if you get overwhelmed around people, you can always wait in the infirmary."
And then it hit me.
A surge of foreign memories slammed into my brain like a broken dam.
From the day he was born to the day his parents were found dead—I remembered it all. Like it was my own life.
Even last night's dinner.
Kimchi stew.
Hold up.
I've never eaten kimchi stew in my life. So why the hell do I remember how it tastes?
Wait… right.
Now I remember.
I smacked my head on the edge of my desk yesterday. Hard.
So either this is one hell of a lucid dream…
Or this is real.
Only one way to find out.
I pinched the tip of my groin.
Pain shot through me like an electric current.
Yep. That's real.
I winced, tears stinging my eyes.
Mental note: NEVER, ever do that test again.
Just then, a boy walked past me—cool and composed as he stepped onto the stage.
A voice echoed from the podium:
"Now, please give a round of applause for Cadet Noah Seongvale."
The auditorium erupted into polite applause. Sharp, measured, respectful. The kind of applause you'd give to a national icon.
That name—Noah Seongvale—was too familiar. Too precise.
And when I looked at him, everything just… clicked.
Noah Seongvale.
Seventeen. The Prodigy of the prestigious Seongvale family.
Calm. Brilliant. Perfectly composed. People called him warm, but honestly?
He always looked half-dead to me.
Not in a creepy way—just emotionally vacuum-sealed. Like the kind of guy who could say, "Your dog died," without blinking. His expression didn't change unless it was surgically required.
Black hair, with white streaks painted through his bangs like someone slapped drama on his head. Crimson eyes—not glittering, just watching—like nothing in this world could faze him. Shoulders square. Back straight. Eyes forward.
He was a wall that wouldn't budge—even if a dragon rammed into it.
Noah wasn't just a cadet.
He was a legend.
And he wasn't even the protagonist of the game.
But half the playerbase treated him like one anyway.
Cool. Powerful. Silent. Unreachable.
And now there he was.
Standing right in front of me.
"Even though I've cleared this game several times," I muttered, "there's no way I'd remember all that by heart."
Ever since I opened my eyes, I had a hunch about where I was.
But I kept denying it.
Not anymore.
I stared at the stage.
That name. That face.
This exact scene.
I've seen it all before—dozens of times.
There's no mistake now.
I've entered Atlas Online.