Player One |Vmin

Prologue

Jimin, a young and troubled boy that only experiences life through a game on his computer screen. Pale and sickly looking. Everything changes when he meets a person through a computer game and even met the man of his dreams in reality.

The question is will he choose the virtual world or reality?

/ / / / /

"BabyJ! We're on the same team! You aren't suppose to attack us!"

"Are you a noob or something?! Attack the enemy!"

"What?! Can your crippled brain not understand what we are saying?! Drop the sword now!"

"We will kick you out of the clan after the battle ends! Just wait, BabyJ! You're gonna wish you never messed with us, you faggot-!"

The black haired boy smiled darkly as he pierced one of the members on the team with his sword, losing all of his health as he fell to the ground, virtual blood oozing out from his wound, his microphone getting cut off as he was teleported back to the menu. The teenager snickered when he heard the rest of his team mates screaming for him to stop.

"What the hell dude?!"

"I thought it's against the rules to kill a team mate?! Why is his attacks hurting us or why isn't he getting caught by the server-?!"

The character's body fell to the ground, his head getting chopped off with one clean slice of the dark haired boy's sword as he continued to laugh. He didn't know why he found this so fun. No one did. It was something that he enjoyed which no one understands, and that made it even more fun for him.

"I though you are only level eleven with with the basic scavenger sword! How are you doing so much damage with such a week weapon-!"

'Die, die, die.' He whispered to himself, cutting one of his teammate's body in half. His heart rate quickened. It gave him so much energy and made him feel alive. Something about being someone he could never be in real life appealed to him, and doing something he wouldn't dare to do to real people but instead doing it to fake ones made him smirk. He felt powerful in the virtual world and he loved it more than anything. Especially when he left the weakest and the most easily frightened member of his 'team', all by himself.

"Please don't kill me-!"

The black haired shook his head at the person's reaction right before stabbing him in the stomach. His hp instantly dropped to zero. He hated it when people made such a big deal about getting killed.

It's a video game for a reason. You make friends. Have fun. Win. Lose. Level up. Find rare items. Earn money. And become the best you can. It's not real life. No matter how much he wanted it to be, he wasn't delusional. He knows what's real and what's not.

He collected the weapons his 'teammates' dropped and instantly his camouflage dropped. His level spiraled up from eleven to ninety-eight and his 'clan group' name tag disappeared. He wasn't kicked out if that's what your thinking. He was never in a clan and never will be. The money he earns on his dangerous missions in the virtual world provided him with enough money to buy the most expensive and the longest lasting illusion magic in the game. Very little people knew about the spell and he was apart of the proportions that did.