Chapter Text
The subway carriage looks like something out of a horror movie. That’s what happens when everything and everyone is covered with blood. Kim Dokja’s avoided the worst of it, since all the people who had scrambled for grasshoppers and subsequently exploded are on the other side of the carriage, but there’s blood still soaking into his clothes. It’s a good thing that the apocalypse doesn’t have a dress code.
He gets to his feet, still half hunched over as he offers his hand to the old woman on the floor. She’s looking better. She might still be moving a little weakly, but at least she doesn’t sound like she’s in pain. “Can you stand, halmeoni?”
The grandmother coughs — once, twice — before she nods and Kim Dokja carefully pulls her up. It’s the stereotypical good deed a webnovel’s cheerfully generic male lead would do to make it clear to the audience that he was a good person. Or at least it would be, if, again, they weren’t standing on the set of a horror movie.
“Thank you,” the grandmother says hoarsely, her voice shaking.
“It’s nothing.”
[A handful of constellations are impressed with your good deed.]
[The constellations have sponsored you 500 coins.]
…Nothing but coins, it seems.
“Thank you,” the old woman repeats. “With this situation, I - I really didn’t think I was—”
Kim Namwoon makes a loud, disparaging noise. The grandmother flinches again.
“There’s no need to be like that,” Kim Dokja says.
Kim Namwoon’s mouth is twisted in displeasure. Under Kim Dokja’s stare, it unfurls into an unpleasant smile. “Like what,” he says, his hands spread wide. “Does it look like I did something? It’s not my fault she has nerves.”
This kid. He hasn’t killed anyone, but he still talks like he has – still looks like he has, with blood on his face, dripping off one sleeve, splattered over the front of his uniform. For now, that image is false. Very soon, it won’t be; it’s only a matter of time.
“Dokja-ssi, is everything okay?”
Kim Dokja turns to find Yoo Sangah with a concerned look on her face. Just like everyone else, she’s covered in blood. She looks exhausted; it’s a wonder she has the energy to be concerned about someone else at all.
“I saved the grandmother,” Kim Dokja says automatically.
Kim Namwoon cocks his head to the side. “Ah? Who’s this? Hey, hyung, is this your girlfriend or something?”
Yoo Sangah pauses, expression faintly conflicted. Was it strange, standing so close to a teenage boy who incited a crowd against an elderly woman? Yoo Sangah had stood up, when she had seen how things were going to go; if Kim Dokja hadn't stopped her, what would she have done? Talk it out, fight it out? Die in the resulting frenzy? For someone whose mindset was 'normal', it was a situation with no good end.
That was how scenarios worked.
“We’re coworkers,” she says. “You two seem to know each other?”
“This is my cousin,” Kim Dokja says. “I haven’t seen him in a while, so we’re catching up.”
“Oh, I see. It’s nice to meet Dokja-ssi’s family.”
“Are you fucking kidding me,” Kim Namwoon says.
[Survivors from the 3434 Train to Bulgwang, Carriage 3807: Kim Dokja, Kim Namwoon, Soo Taehee, Lee Hyunsung, Yoo Sangah, Han Myungoh and Lee Gilyoung. A total of seven survivors.]
That might have been the total for this carriage, but the total amount of survivors on the train couldn’t be much higher than that. This would be a tragedy, if this had been the world of ten minutes ago. An entire subway train, with so few people left alive out of the people who had initially boarded? A disaster. A calamity. An outrage.
Now, it’s a miracle. A surprisingly high amount of people still alive. At this point, it might even be a new record — a high score above all high scores.
What a different world.
Kim Dokja is making it really fucking easy to be pissed at him.
“You know what? Fine,” Kim Namwoon says. “Let’s catch up, hyung.”
Kim Dokja’s expression doesn’t change. It’s perfectly bland and perfectly emotionless, and it makes Kim Namwoon want to lock his hands around Kim Dokja’s neck and wring it.
Seriously, had Kim Dokja always been like this? Kim Namwoon’s pretty sure he would’ve remembered if Kim Dokja had always been as stone-faced as a wall or if he regularly saved people’s lives and comforted children. But this is apparently what Kim Dokja is now.
It’s jarring. Even if he’s faking being a totally in-control-and-virtuous-person, Kim Namwoon swears this guy’s never been this good at handling things in his life. If he was, maybe he wouldn’t have fucked off forever without a heads-up. Maybe Kim Namwoon would’ve even known that was happening, instead spending a year or two occasionally wondering why Kim Dokja was taking so long to come back from college. Maybe fucking maybe, huh?
But before Kim Namwoon can even take a step towards Kim Dokja and actually strangle him, that stupid CGI children’s cartoon pops up out of nowhere again. It starts jabbering about sponsorship of the constellations, and… well, it’s starting to make Kim Namwoon think.
About whether he can punt it down the carriage and if it would bounce on the way, yeah. But also…
All of this sounds straight out of a webnovel. This kind of death game end-of-the-world situation, it’s not uncommon to see on Joara or Naver or Munpia or whatever-the-fuck platform you check. Pop-up screens and apocalypses and scenarios and murder. Constellation sponsorship, on top of that. Individually, none of that is unique.
The key word is individually. When taken altogether, it’s… starting to jar something in his mind.
Kim Dokja’s face is very calm. And fine, maybe Kim Dokja’s face is just like that now, he’d barely shown an emotion even when Kim Namwoon was almost — only almost! — screaming in his face. But… he does seem a lot like he’s expecting it. Like he’s seen it all before.
Like he’d spent three years jabbering nonstop about it before getting the fuck out, maybe?
[Sponsor Selection]
-Please select your sponsor
-Your chosen sponsor will be your strong supporter.
- Abyssal Black Flame Dragon
- Nail-Eating Rat
…Abyssal Black Flame Dragon, huh?
Yeah. That’s a familiar name.
On the topic of sponsors: the choices Kim Dokja has are good. He knows that Kim Namwoon’s are less so, though to be honest, that’s not something Kim Dokja needs to think about at all. Kim Namwoon is going to be fine.
[The exclusive skill, ‘Fourth Wall’ is shaking!]
Kim Dokja’s read the novel, he knows that brat is going to be fine. In fact, Kim Namwoon spends multiple regressions being absolutely fine. If everything really did go exactly like it did in the novel, then Kim Namwoon would have the Abyssal Black Flame Dragon as a sponsor, wouldn’t he? Picking that sponsor would ensure that, as a contractor of such a strong constellation, he made it past the early scenarios without a problem. Kim Dokja has no such guarantee; he should be spending more time considering his own options.
Sure, the power of the Abyssal Black Flame Dragon would also eat away at your sanity, but it’s not like a little bit of madness really hurt. As long you went into the deal with eyes open wide, degenerating into a mad murderer could be considered an acceptable cost, even if objectively speaking, it was a terrible thing to happen and quite possibly little of the original person would survive.
“Kim Namwoon,” Kim Dokja calls out. It sounds too loud, in this carriage where everyone is focusing too hard to make a sound. Luckily, it also seems they’re too focused to pay much attention to him.
All of them except for Kim Namwoon, who flicks his eyes up to Kim Dokja’s face. “What do you want now?”
“Your sponsor,” Kim Dokja starts, and that’s about as far as he gets before he realizes there’s really no good way to do this without sounding suspicious. It’s not as if he’s supposed to know what will happen to the contractors of the Abyssal Black Flame Dragon. He isn’t supposed to know Kim Namwoon has the Abyssal Black Flame Dragon as an option to begin with. He isn’t even supposed to know that the Abyssal Black Flame Dragon exists.
[The exclusive skill, ‘Fourth Wall’ is shaking!]
...Seriously, what’s the point of this skill?
“Hey. Don’t just stare at me like that, if you want to say something spit it out. What about my sponsor.”
“…Have you already decided?”
Kim Namwoon narrows his eyes suspiciously. “Yeah. What’s it to you.”
…Well, Kim Dokja supposes that’s settled. There’s no point in Kim Dokja saying anything else, since nothing he can say will change the fact that Kim Namwoon has a sponsor now.
“It’s nothing,” Kim Dokja says smoothly. “It’s good that you’re decisive.”
If only the constellations weren’t always watching, he could simply ask Kim Namwoon what sponsor he has, and if it’s who he thinks it is, give a warning or something like that. Maybe if he could get a commercial running? Surely that couldn’t be too hard.
“ Really ,” Kim Namwoon says, his voice terribly flat. “That’s all you wanted to tell me? I don’t believe it.”
He pauses. A sharp smile spreads across his face. “Ah, wait. I get it. You wanted to tell me what to do again, hyung?”
“...That’s not it.”
“You sure? Because it sounds like that’s what you’re trying to do. Trying to… what, guide me into making the right choices? Straighten me out? Be a good influence on my decisions?”
His tone is derisive, because Kim Dokja has never been a good influence on anyone in his entire life. He has, in fact, been widely regarded as a bad influence on everyone around him, Kim Namwoon in particular. Time hasn’t changed that at all.
The idea of Kim Dokja being a good influence – yes, it’s laughable, isn’t it?
“I’m not trying to be a good influence,” Kim Dokja says.
“Great, because you’ve missed the timeframe for that kind of thing,” Kim Namwoon says. “You were supposed to be, I don’t know, telling me to do homework and shit years ago. You can’t really make me do anything now.”
“I’m not trying to make you do anything, either.”
“Really, now.”
“Yes, really.”
Kim Namwoon squints suspiciously at Kim Dokja for one long moment, like he’s looking for something in the lines of his face. “What,” he says eventually, with an irritated shake of his head. “Am I really supposed to believe that?”
[Sponsor Selection has ended.]
[The constellation ‘Abyssal Black Flame Dragon’ is highly pleased with your choice! He will aid you in meting out unholy vengeance in the future.]
[100 Coins have been sponsored.]
[Some constellations are concerned by your choice.]
[The constellation ‘Abyssal Black Flame Dragon’ wants to know if you forgot you were supposed to pick a sponsor.]
[The constellation ‘Demon-like Judge of Fire’ wishes to remind you to keep better track of time for the next Sponsor Selection.]
[The constellation ‘Prisoner of the Golden Headband’ hopes you resolve your family issues soon.]
[The constellation ‘Secretive Plotter’ is interested in your choice.]
[100 Coins have been sponsored.]
“Dokja-ssi… are you really okay?”
“It’s fine.”
Kim Namwoon stretches his arms up behind his head and waits.
The chatter around him goes like this: Hello, nice to meet you, thank you for letting me stay alive. It would be really nice if you didn’t kill me, so let’s cooperate. Please take care of me from now on!
It’s all like that, isn’t it? A good, nice talk for a good, nice team up. Kim Namwoon collects glares and wary looks and half-remembered names, and none of it is interesting at all.
No, he’s got more interesting things to think of at the moment.
Exclusive skills in the attributes window. A game-like interface. Everything is just like an RPG, ah, how exciting – or maybe that’s what he might have thought, if Kim Dokja wasn’t here, with his stupid, irritating face. But he is, and just that fact is making Kim Namwoon remember things he’d thought he’d long forgotten.
So in this novel I like – well, first of all, Seoul is plunged into a scenario where everyone has to kill to survive –
Huh, why? Is it supposed to be fun or something?
I’ll get to that. Just wait a little, okay?
It’s all like that, isn’t it?
The protagonist starts off riding the subway when the scenarios kick off. But he knows how this is going to go, since he’s lived this life before. So he’s the first to move, and he just – he kills everyone. I mean, there’s this bomber in his train carriage that’s been meaning to kill everyone from the beginning, so the protagonist kills that guy first –
Isn’t it like that?
Haha, but what if he’s wrong, though? Is he remembering this correctly? Even if he is, is this the kind of situation he thinks it is? Is this really that one fucking story?
“We have to go.”
Ah, if it is, Kim Dokja should recognize it. If he recognizes it, he should know exactly what’s going to happen. So maybe he had actual knowledge backing up whatever sponsor choice he wanted Kim Namwoon to make. Maybe that’s why he’s saying things like “We have to go” and “If we don’t go now, we will all die before the next scenario arrives.”
After the first scenario, the protagonist goes through to the next carriage, and everyone’s dead there, too. Well, almost. See, he runs into two people he used to know…
Sure, fine, yeah, what exactly happens there? Furthermore, what happens directly after that?
This fucking guy. What is it that Kim Dokja remembers about this moment that Kim Namwoon is forgetting?
[The second scenario has arrived!]
“Hahaha, it’s fucking zombies – ”
[Someone has received the favor of a constellation.]
[The constellation’s scenario ‘Deus Ex Machina’ has been activated.]
Kim Dokja watches Han Myungoh speed over the Even Bridge, Yoo Sangah protesting over his shoulder. He should probably feel more concerned about this. Mostly, he’s tired and convinced that Han Myungoh really has no consideration at all, which — well. It’s not like those are new feelings.
[The information of this person can’t be read in ‘Character List.’]
“Not a bad idea, huh?” Kim Namwoon said, flexing his fingers. “Wanna give it a go?”
“I’m sorry?”
“What? You’re a skinny piece of shit, I could drag you around like –” Kim Namwoon jerks his head toward the faint figures of Han Myungoh and Yoo Sangah. “Bet it’d be easy.”
Roughly, he kicks out, catching a stray demonic person in the stomach, the blow hard enough to send its target flying. The body rolls off into the water below with a splash.
“I would rather not,” Kim Dokja says.
“Really? What a shame,” Kim Namwoon says, casually shaking out one of his hands. Each snap of his wrist is trailed by a dark, threatening energy: Blackening. That skill, even this early on, at such a low level, was being used to great effect.
Truly, the Delusion Demon of the battlefield couldn’t be easily beaten. At this stage, Kim Namwoon couldn’t keep it up forever, but Kim Dokja didn’t need forever. He only needed enough time to come up with a solution to the problem at hand.
“What – what do we do?” the grandmother says shakily.
[Exclusive skill, ‘Character List’ is activated.]
[Name: Soo Taehee
Age: 86 years old.
Constellation Sponsor: Masked Dancer of the Court]
Hmm.
“We can’t…” Soo Taehee falters when Kim Namwoon casts his eyes in her direction, then sucks in a deep breath. “We can’t all cross at once. Yes?”
Yes. That was the problem at hand.
This ‘Deus Ex Machina’ requires even numbers to pass. Even if Han Myungoh hadn’t taken off with Yoo Sangah, the situation would be the same — someone has to get left behind. If Kim Dokja had saved one more or one less person, things would be easy. But he didn’t, so it isn’t, and now he has this to deal with.
“Wow, that’s really too bad, huh?” Kim Namwoon says, faux bright. “You got something figured out, old lady? No? Hope you think fast.” One hand slices out, at the demonic person approaching his side. The other wraps itself tightly around Kim Dokja’s wrist and tugs, sending Kim Dokja stumbling forward.
“What –”
Kim Namwoon clicks his tongue. “What, we need to cross this stupid bridge, right? Shit, you seriously want me to drag you? Let’s go.”
“We have three people,” Kim Dokja says. “It’s an odd number, the bridge will break.”
“Who says we’re taking three people? Keep up, hyung.”
…Yes, Kim Namwoon was the type of character to say this kind of thing. Well, technically speaking, it’s not the worst decision Kim Dokja could make. It’s very simple: if he lets Kim Namwoon take him across the bridge, he’ll make it through. Of course, Soo Taehee likely won’t, but that’s how the scenarios work, isn’t it? You pay for your own life with someone else’s. It’s a very easy answer to this scenario.
But if Kim Dokja only ever wanted to take the easy way out of things, he wouldn’t have interfered between Kim Namwoon and Soo Taehee to begin with. It seems like such a waste of effort to save someone’s life just to abandon them not even ten minutes later. If he was going to do that, what was the point of saving anyone at all? He might as well have left her to die at the beginning.
Kim Namwoon follows his gaze to Soo Taehee and scoffs. “So what if she can’t cross the bridge by herself? She’s useless. Look at her, she’s already having a hard time keeping up.”
… Indeed, this exertion is a lot for an average salaryman, let alone an old woman. Kim Namwoon has been handling the worst of it, fighting through hordes of demonic people to get to the bridge, but it’s difficult even without the fighting.
Soo Taehee is doing a remarkably good job matching their pace and dodging any blows directed towards her. According to Character List…
[Stigma: Jeongeupsa’s Passage Lv. 1]
Likely it’s because of that. If Kim Dokja recalls correctly, it’s quite good at increasing defensive power. Still, the physical activity is clearly taking a toll. She’s pale-faced and sweat-soaked, her breath rough enough that he could swear the dry rasp of it draws blood from the inside of her throat.
It’s not a state any elder should be in. In a normal world, he might have offered her his seat on the train carriage, or offered her a drink to sooth her throat. In this world…
“She’ll probably die of a heart attack pretty soon,” Kim Namwoon says encouragingly. “If she’s going to die anyway—”
What a callous thing to say. But that was Kim Namwoon, wasn’t it? A young man who could adapt to the new state of the world with unusual speed, who could disregard human lives for the sake of his own survival.
“She doesn’t have to die anyway,” Kim Dokja says, maybe a little too sharply. “You could take her across. It shouldn’t matter to you, you’ll be alive no matter what you do.”
“Haaaa, if I do that, what are you going to do? Fly? You have that kind of skill?”
“I didn’t think this was something you cared about.”
“Care? About what, you? I’m just saying it’s dumb of you to say, isn’t it? What are you trying to do, show respect to your elders? Please, go first, you’re old, so you deserve the right to live way more than I do?”
Kim Dokja has heard this rhetoric before. Yes, not even an hour before, when this scenario had begun. Yes, over a decade before, when he first begun reading the story this world had become.
“I’m just thinking,” Kim Dokja says. “Taking a moment to think of a way to save three people instead of two isn’t a crime. There’s still enough time in the scenario to figure something out.”
“Haha, what, do you really want to be a hero that badly? You already did that today! Isn’t once a day enough? You don’t really think of yourself as an apostle of justice, do you? Are you trying that hard to be cool? Yes? No? That’s really amazing!”
This style of talking, this tone of voice, it’s very familiar. Kim Namwoon hadn’t talked like this as a child, but as a character… yes. That Kim Namwoon had talked in this kind of manner, saying all kinds of irritating, frustrating things that made Kim Dokja want to shout at words he saw before his eyes. Why was it that the protagonist tolerated this kind of talk?
“What if I am?” Kim Dokja says. “You don’t care about me, didn’t you just say that? If it’s the case, what business is this of yours?”
“I’m just saying,” Kim Namwoon says, baring his teeth. “Seems like it makes you feel good. Seems like it makes you feel great, being some kind of hero. Is it supposed to be fun or something? I don’t really get it. Have you been reading a lot of novels online lately? There are all kinds of stories where the protagonist solves everyone’s problems because he’s just better than everyone else. He knows everything, so of course it’s really easy.”
“...What are you even trying to get at?”
“Me? I’m not trying to do anything. I want to know what you’re trying. Do you really have something in mind to get across without this bridge? What do you know that I don’t, huh?”
“Ex…excuse me,” says Soo Taehee, the indirect cause of this conversation to begin with.
“Hey, could you stay out of this?” Kim Namwoon says irritably. “You’re not dead, you want things to stay like that, right?”
“U-um–”
“You didn’t need to say that,” Kim Dokja says.
Was it fun, threatening an old woman? Was it cool, casually playing around with the idea of death? Was it difficult, to stay quiet for just a moment?
“I… really don’t want to interrupt but – but young man –”
“You didn’t need to pay attention to that. You don’t want me to kill her, look at me not killing her, aren’t I good?”
How aggressive. How edgy. How typical .
“Did you want me to praise you for leaving her alive?”
“Why are you focusing so hard on her,” Kim Namwoon hisses, stepping forward, almost spitting in Kim Dokja’s face. “Does it look like I’m telling you she needs to die? Forget about her! She doesn’t matter! I don’t care!”
…What, is Kim Dokja supposed to believe that? All of this fussing, this constant insistence that Soo Taehee is left behind to die, and he’s supposed to believe that Kim Namwoon just doesn’t care?
“Um. I understand this is a bad time but… chungnyun? Haksaeng? Kim Dokja? Please – !”
“Aren’t you getting very worked up about something you don’t care about? If that’s the case, what is it that you want?”
“Isn’t it obvious?”
“Would I ask if it was obvious?”
In one smooth movement, Kim Namwoon grabs him by the collar and pulls. Kim Dokja is barely a centimeter apart when Kim Namwoon shouts, at full volume, “I just want you to cross this stupid bridge!”
“KIM DOKJA, WHAT’S THAT?”
In unison, Kim Dokja and Kim Namwoon turn their heads toward Soo Taehee. She’s shaking slightly, chest heaving from her surprisingly impressive feat of vocal projection. One finger points behind them, where there is a line of bodies being thrown up like ragdolls into the air, starting from the train and heading… pretty much directly to them.
“Huh,” Kim Namwoon says.
“Ah,” Kim Dokja says.
“I tried to say something,” Soo Taehee says, looking vaguely miserable.
“Yeah, okay, that’s fair,” Kim Namwoon says, and then there’s no more time to talk. The protagonist, finished with his rampage of terror, appears before them in a burst of force and speed. It’s the central figure of this story, proud and powerful, bloody-handed from the destruction of everything in his way.
[Name: Yoo Joonghyuk.
Attribute: Regressor (3rd turn) (Myth), Pro Gamer (Rare)]
“Oh, good, another person,” Kim Namwoon says, before Yoo Joonghyuk himself can say a word. “Four people, even number, we can all cross the bridge. Hey, hyung, are you happy now? Look, you can save everyone!”