They called me a genius. A prodigy. The youngest heir to ever sit at the top of Korea's corporate elite. I call that a prison sentence. For twenty-four years, I endured the tyranny of the Demon Queen (my mother), the soul-crushing boredom of chaebol life, and a world that labels "dark, brooding charisma" as a psychiatric concern. So I did what any rational mastermind would do. I liquidated ninety-eight percent of my wealth to fund a video game. Chimera—a virtual reality where the laws of physics are merely suggestions, where entire worlds shift genres at the whim of those cunning enough to pull the strings. Today it's a dark fantasy. Tomorrow, if I will it, it's a warzone where your holy sword becomes a sniper rifle and you don't even know where to aim. Other players want to be heroes. I will be the nightmare they didn't know was watching.