Users who have enjoyed MMORPGs or FPS games might not feel a particular aversion to defeating other players or NPCs. The act of eliminating visualized programming languages using specific commands is justified by various quests and level designs, and under the premise that "It's just a game," one can effortlessly learn to kill insensitively and mercilessly. Therefore, besides the distinction of reality––virtual and real––one can consider distinguishing them by an ethical measure. In daily life, ethics are virtues, and killing is a vice, but in games, killing becomes a virtue, and ethics the vice.

<Call of Duty: Advanced Warfare> is often cited as an example where behaving ethically in a game seems rather disrespectful. Within the game's cinematic sequences, the developers instruct the player to "Press the ⓧ key to pay your respects." While this design was intended for immersion, it ironically becomes an element that hinders it. It appears to violate the seriousness and sincerity that should inherently be present when mourning the dead. However, the question goes beyond the simple dichotomy suggesting that games are for casual enjoyment and reality requires serious engagement. If the command itself is problematic, is it possible for the player to genuinely pay their respects? Furthermore, how should a game be designed to traverse the twisted ethical tightrope?

This is the game rule imposed on Yoon Dong Hoon. On the surface, he is in the position of producing the game and its rules, but since he is also imitating a real event, he must play his work while understanding the implicit and traditional rules of how it should be produced. Thus, the players are not the audience linked to the visuals but the developers. Nevertheless, they are deeply intertwined with the reality where killing is considered a vice, and even while making the game, they must gauge the range of their movements within the overlapped boundaries of real-world rules.

Amid the criticisms and cheers of playing the game, which may involve rushing, violating, cheating, or escaping, an undeniable fact remains: it's all a matter of choice. Therefore, the way Yoon responds to this rule should be respected as a choice, and one should also infer what lies behind that choice. Yoon participates without reproducing anything. Inside the cave filled with water, voices corrode into a muffled hum, and even if one reaches the point directed by the artist for easy identification, nothing is discovered. When one moves through the bridge connected to the cave, a vast open sea unfolds, and turning around reveals the mouth of the extremely artificial cave sitting like a monstrous figure. Perhaps, to an audience accustomed to commercial games, it might seem like a dreadfully dull outcome––a work where neither gameplay, reward, nor completion is guaranteed, and yet dropping it feels like that's all there is to the piece.

On the other hand, a quite trained, critical audience will likely associate his attempt with trying to represent the 'unrepresentable.' Rather than hastily attempting to define forms for concepts that remain inarticulate, Yoon's approach is to transform them into allegorical representations. He chooses to conform rather than resist when faced with the constraints of reality impinging on the game's rules. Thus, the audience can only imagine the vaguely implied reality. If these interpretations align with the truth, Yoon's response cannot be simplistically attributed to fear of confronting reality or seeking an easy, discursive solution. Because his refusal to create an ⓧ key for the audience and his rejection of concrete representation are linked to the attitude of stopping the production of remnants that will inevitably accompany the process of converting the cobalt mine to the web. In other words, without employing the eerily preserved bones as tools, which still rest buried in the Gyeongsan cobalt mine as remnants of reality, and by reflecting and neglecting them in a link that no one will seek over time, Son decides not to emulate the wrongs of the past.

Many people today live with their hand on the ⓧ key. They easily conform to the ethical temptations presented by various forms of media that encourage them to press it. And by that, they gain a sense of fulfillment, believing they have fulfilled their moral duty. This simple and devastating format reduces the way we respond to situations solely ethically, yet distorts ethics itself into something bizarre. Seeing Yoon who supports a design that rejects such a policy, it is hard to hide the desire to whisper to people today that doubting the demands presented and 'not doing so' accomplishes what you wanted.