MURRIETA -- The gamer's dream: achieved. Walk in to the spartan Murrieta townhouse 18-year-old Ben Jackson shares with four friends and relatives and you find comfy, if slightly snug, living quarters -- as if he were a collegiate upperclassman, not a professional gamer. There are two Xboxes in the cramped bedroom he shares with his buddy, Derek Smith, and three busted units in storage, but no room in the house is exclusively devoted to the industry that has lined the Murrieta Valley High grad's pockets with $70,000 since March.

That figure probably will rise astronomically in the next three years: Monday morning, Major League Gaming awarded Jackson a $250,000 contract for his dominance in "Halo 2," the sequel to "Halo," which was the original signature game of Xbox. "Halo 2" is a science fiction story, and the most popular non-sports video game designed for the Xbox console.

Jackson's contract will be paid in varying monthly installments over the next three years. And there's a windfall to be made in the many tournaments he takes part in each year.

"Even if he wasn't this good -- even if he wasn't making this much money -- he'd be playing all the time," said the 21-year-old Smith. "So, it's good that he can do this for a living."

Pro gaming

Dating back to 2005, Jackson -- nicknamed "Karma" on the gaming circuit -- has won eight consecutive individual tournaments, and heads one of the nation's top four-person teams. That team, Carbon, started off the 2006 season as the third-ranked team, and now sits at the top. Individually, he holds a yearlong undefeated streak after having competed in seven national tournaments.

The three other members of his team also were awarded $250,000 contracts by Major League Gaming, which has signed the top three teams to such deals since June.

There are more than 100 professional gamers linked to Major League Gaming, but only 12 have been signed to the contract given to Karma. In exchange for the contracts, the gamers must participate in all Major League Gaming tournaments.

Founded in 2002, Major League Gaming is a sports media business with a mission of seeing video gaming become the next major league sport in America.

Most days, Jackson wakes up in the afternoon, works out for a couple of hours, returns home to ponder evening activities and maybe gets in a couple of hours on his Xbox before joining his friends for a movie or something of the sort.

It is the life of the pro gamer, which could evolve into a celebrity existence: As remarkable as the notion that video-gaming could be a profession is, Major League Gaming aims to make mainstream stars out of its elite performers.

Another winner of a $250,000 contract, Tom "Tsquared" Taylor, was recently honored as one of the "Top 30 under 30" by Stuff Magazine.

Karma is viewed as another emerging star, and is often featured on a television show on USA-TV.

Major League Gaming is attempting to brand its stars in much the same way NASCAR promotes Jeff Gordon and Dale Earnhardt Jr., a spokeswoman said. MLG also has lured several sponsorship deals, to boost itself and cover the expenses of its top gamers.

It seems like an appropriate method, mimicking the model of NASCAR and extreme sports: No longer is NASCAR a rural racing league that failed to interest the top media markets, nor are extreme games limited to rebellious teens living in the valleys of Southern California.

The "video game lifestyle" is now enjoyed by about 168 million Americans, says a Major League Gaming spokesman.

At the top stands Karma.

The appeal of gaming

Jackson admittedly is so hyperactive that standing still -- let alone playing most video games -- can be a challenge. Unless the game teases or challenges his intellect, he can be beaten, he says.

"My 5-year-old brother beats me at "Puzzle Fighter." But I don't care; it's retarded," he said, grinning widely.

Jackson, who prefers strategic action-oriented games, is a walking contradiction.

Despite being a nail-biter, he has little nervous energy, but has the rapid-fire delivery of speech of a New Yorker. Yet, there's little apparent urgency in his life.

"He's unnaturally good," Smith says of his buddy. "If you think you're great, give him an hour, and he'll find a way to beat you. It happens every time. If I throw him a Rubik's Cube, he can figure it out in an hour."

Jackson particularly enjoys military strategy games.

"It's all about outsmarting people," he said. "It's that mental aspect that makes it like a sport. Just because you don't run and shoot hoops, or catch a football, it's still just like a sport."

The life of Karma

Jackson, who spent much of his formative years in North San Diego County, can't suppress another grin as he rattles on about his charmed life. He's had good karma, for sure, which explains his nickname, and a deep appreciation for the Asian culture, he says.

Both he and Smith are anime fans. Their passion for the Japanese cartoon-film art form is evident: There are two posters in the bathroom they share, plus swords high above the toilet, just in case "zombies" a la "Dawn of the Dead" attack in the middle of the night, they explain, both unable to stifle the laughter amid their overlapping dialogue.

The bedroom walls are an ode to Jackson: The back wall is full of gigantic checks that he's earned as alter ego Karma at tournaments. A melange of CDs sit above the biggest of three TVs: Sublime, Weird Al, Judy Garland, 50 Cent and a pure disco mix.

It's the tiny room of dorm buddies, only they live in the lone third-floor bedroom of a three-story townhouse, and they're not in college.

Going forward

Jackson plans to further his education at some point -- possibly DeVry University for video game design -- but doesn't know when, not that it's a must, considering his wealth. He plans to ride his good fortune in the gaming world until it inevitably runs dry.

Today, Jackson has no plans to invest his money -- he's leaning against establishing a Roth-IRA retirement account, despite learning from a friend that tossing in $4,000 a year could translate into $1 million at age 59 1/2. And he won't be buying a home anytime soon, he says.

"I'm 18, I don't do that yet," he explained blissfully. "I take pleasure in being ignorant, particularly about buying a house."

And, apparently, about the functioning of a mobile phone. His voice-mail message instructs callers to leave a message, but warns that his understanding of its operation is limited.

Though his days are filled with playing video games and hanging out with friends, Jackson is not content with a seemingly lazy life.

He says he isn't averse to getting a regular job. He would prefer a position at a game store to keep him occupied during the day, but so far he hasn't had any luck.

"I'm bored," he said.

That is, in part, because he's achieved every goal -- always related to video games -- that he's ever had: beat his brother, defeat the Californian champion, be a professional video gamer and win national tournaments.

"It kind of sucks," he said, grinning. "Now that I've won everything, I'm the last challenge -- I'm no longer challenging anybody. I don't have anything to prove anymore."

For now, he plays would-be challengers from their home Xboxes -- if he wins, they owe him $15; if they manage a win, he pays them $30. Then, it's off to hang out with friends.

Contact staff writer Brian Eckhouse at (951) 676-4315, Ext. 2626, or beckhouse@californian.com.