Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Soulmates were fiction.

Now, if Kim Dokja had his way, a lot of fictional things would become reality. Having wings would be great to avoid having to take the subway. Making a deal with a demon for untold riches would be even better; there was no difference between losing his soul to an evil spirit or to capitalism anyway, except the demon would at least let him laze about until his death. Being isekaied? He would miss modern plumbing, but it would be worth it to never have to see his colleagues again.

Having a soulmate, though. Would it fall under the “good” or the “bad” column? He had been having this debate with himself for years. Of course, the idea that there was someone out there who would see you and all your flaws and still accept you, someone who you could belong to unreservedly, was ridiculous. But if Kim Dokja looked at it like a thought exercise… Well. In theory, it might be nice. Right? When he mused on it, he thought it would not be the most terrible thing in the world.

But then Yoo Joonghyuk’s struggles would hit a little too close to home, and Kim Dokja would feel that it was just as well that he would never know the pain of his favorite protagonist.

Yoo Joonghyuk had a soulmate. Soulmates were an integral part of the universe of Three Ways to Survive in a Ruined World, although few characters found their match in the middle of an apocalypse. Yoo Joonghyuk wasn’t one of the lucky ones. Regression after regression, he went through the scenarios without the other half of his soul.

At the beginning of the novel, he was always searching for them. He questioned his allies, he investigated every lead, he even bargained with constellations for intel. As time went by, there were more and more turns in which he hid his soulmark and convinced himself that this absence wasn’t one more gnawing wound in his flesh. But always, inevitably, he came back to the search. For the promise of someone who could see and understand all that he was, Yoo Joonghyuk would drag himself through broken glass, over and over again.

Kim Dokja had questioned the author on this multiple times. Yoo Joonghyuk hadn’t unearthed new leads in hundreds of regressions, he would argue. Why continue dragging this tired plotline if Author-nim had no intention of letting him find whoever it was? Couldn’t they give him some kind of closure at last? There was more than enough going on in the scenarios without keeping that one subplot dangling. They might as well let him put his old search to rest and find solace in the arms of his first love Lee Seolhwa, who he had left behind when the obsession had gotten too consuming.

tls123 never replied to those messages.

Granted, maybe Kim Dokja was too pushy in those. He tried to be polite, generally. But Yoo Joonghyuk’s grief and anger at each one of his failures frayed Kim Dokja’s nerves like nothing else.

It felt like Kim Dokja was letting him down.

It was nonsense, of course. But since that passage in the very first chapter that had described Yoo Joonghyuk’s soulmark, Kim Dokja had never been able to look away from his pain.

It was just coincidence that the description of Yoo Joonghyuk’s mark matched exactly with the quirky birthmark on Kim Dokja’s chest. Just a fluke.

Even though it might have been nice if…

Whatever. Soulmates were fiction.

Dokkaebis were fiction. Three Ways to Survive in a Ruined World was definitely a fictional story.

So why… why didn’t Kim Dokja feel like he was dreaming?

Half of the subway car’s passengers lay dead on the floor. Blood had splattered all over the white faces of the survivors. The small and fluffy creature floating in the air, the creature that had killed all those people, laughed.

[Now, do you finally understand? This isn’t the “reality” that you know.]

No. No, Kim Dokja didn’t understand. He watched what was happening as if from a great distance, like a pane of glass had fallen between him and the world.

The surreality of the moment only heightened when Han Myungoh, of all people, tried to bribe the dokkaebi. One of the prime jerks of Kim Dokja’s company was offering money to a creature born from his favorite novel. The dokkaebi scoffed at the offer and snapped his fingers. Blue windows popped into existence all over the car. One appeared in front of Kim Dokja’s eyes.

[Good luck, everyone,] the dokkaebi said with one last bloodthirsty grin. [I expect to see an interesting story!]

He vanished.

Kim Dokja’s mouth went dry. System windows… the Star Stream… a dokkaebi… Then this was really…

He could hear Yoo Sangah talking to him, asking what they should do, but it was all white noise to his ears.

A commanding voice rose over the panicked din in the car.

“Okay, everybody! Please calm down. Take some deep breaths.”

The person talking this way was a tall and sturdy man. He stood among the survivors, who turned to him, eager for someone to take charge.

“Are you calm yet? Please stop your actions and pay attention to me for a moment.”

The young man took a government card out of his wallet and brandished it.

“I am currently an army lieutenant serving in the 6502 unit,” he said, but Kim Dokja heard nothing else after that.

As soon as he saw the name written on the card, his ears started buzzing again.

‘Army lieutenant Lee Hyunsung.’

If this man was real… If Steel Sword Lee Hyunsung was standing in front of him, then…

Kim Dokja took out his phone and frantically opened the text file he had just received. Lee Hyunsung always appeared in the story as soon as the first scenario finished. Then, if Lee Hyunsung was here, that man couldn’t be far…

His finger stopped on the paragraph he wanted.

He saw people gathered at the back door of the 3707 carriage. The wheel of the lighter he held tightly in his hand was cold. In this life, he absolutely couldn’t make a mistake. He would use any means for his purpose.

The 3707 carriage. Kim Dokja looked up. Above the door, the number 3807 was inscribed.

Then, the carriage just in front of this one…

Kim Dokja elbowed his way through the other passengers, deaf to the agitation his sudden movement caused. He reached for the door at the end of the car, but his hand was repulsed by painful static.

Kim Dokja shook his smarting hand. His eyes were on the door’s window. Through the pane, the dancing light of a fire was starting to filter.

Against the backdrop of flames, a wide and dark back could be seen.

Kim Dokja stared numbly at the system message. He looked at that dark silhouette again, then down at the blue window.

A skill.

Him, Kim Dokja, had a skill. Just like a character.

Just like Yoo Joonghyuk.

The people behind him backed up screaming from the door.

“Fire! There is a fire!”

Only Kim Dokja stayed where he was. His hand pressed against the force field. If the passage hadn’t been barred to him, would he have had the courage to cross this door? He pressed harder. The pain was the only thing forcing him to acknowledge that this was real.

His breathing froze in his lungs.

That dark head had turned. One eye was peering at him, aloof as a god staring at an ant.

The brow lowered. The disinterest faded as an anomaly was registered.

Yoo Joonghyuk turned and faced him.

‘Oh, fuck,’ Kim Dokja thought, and his heart gave a traitorous lurch.

He understood why Ways of Survival’s description of its protagonist was so short now. Thousands of words waxing poetry about Yoo Joonghyuk’s beauty still wouldn’t have done him justice.

Their eyes held for a long, suspended moment.

“Dokja-ssi…”

It was Yoo Sangah’s voice that snapped Kim Dokja out of his trance. She had backed up next to him, though she stared warily at the other passengers. Despite Lee Hyunsung’s attempts to reassure everyone, the reality of what was happening had finally hit them. The prime minister had just died on their phone screens. Muffled screams could be heard coming from the 3907 carriage. The 3807 passengers had retreated from each other. Fear and suspicion were thick in the air.

But what came out of Yoo Sangah’s mouth, incredibly, was:

“A-are you okay?” She threw a look at the door. “That other car… do you know someone?”

Kim Dokja glanced back too. Yoo Joonghyuk had turned away to contend with an enemy rushing at him. Was that the terrorist Choi Hangyu? The man looked unhinged enough for it.

Something ugly tried to bubble out of Kim Dokja’s throat. There hadn’t been any terrorist on this train. That was the setting of a novel.

He turned his back to carriage 3707. Immediately, he felt steadier.

“I’m fine.”

He couldn’t think about Yoo Joonghyuk anymore, nor about the impossibility of what was happening. Like it or not, he was living in the novel now. If he didn’t do something, he would also die in the novel. Carriage 3807 was only meant to have two survivors.

His eyes roved around the train. Lee Hyunsung’s tall figure stood stricken, too timid to act now that his hierarchy couldn’t give him orders. A white-haired teenager who had been leaning against the wall surged forward and slapped a sobbing elderly woman.

“Shit, would you shut up?”

The badge attached to his high school uniform read ‘Kim Namwoon’.

That’s right. Those two had already shown up.

Yoo Sangah flinched as the slaps kept landing on the old woman. Finally, as no one else moved, she strove forward.

“Stop this!”

Kim Dokja had to admire her. With no clue of what was going on, she was finding her footing astonishingly fast. However, Kim Namwoon only glanced at her with open scorn.

“Lady, do you want to die?”

“You…!”

“Hey, you understand the situation, right? The army isn’t coming to rescue us, and somebody must die. We will die if we don’t kill. It’s beyond our control, so who will blame us? Are you going to die in the end because of your morals?”

Indeed, that was Kim Namwoon for you. Only abnormal people like him could adapt so fast to an abnormal world.

Ways of Survival was Kim Dokja’s favorite novel. Of course, he had daydreamed many times about what he would do if he one day found himself in the story. He tried to remember those half-formed plans, but realized with dismay that he had already compromised them.

Yoo Joonghyuk had noticed him. He already knew something was strange in carriage 3807. A man he had never seen before had stared at him like a loon through the door. If Kim Dokja made it out of that train, no matter what, he would be suspicious.

A shiver ran down Kim Dokja’s spine. Fine. Yoo Joonghyuk could be incredibly dangerous to unknown elements, but that was fine. Kim Dokja had a way to fend him off.

Ugh, that skill. Kim Dokja impatiently brushed the notification away. If there was no way for him to stay under the radar, he might as well intervene now.

“Wait,” he said. Yoo Sangah’s shaky eyes turned to him along with everyone else. His strong voice seemed to give her hope. “There is no need for us to become killers.”

“What is that coward ahjussi saying now?” Kim Namwoon scoffed.

Kim Dokja stepped closer to a child huddled in the aisle. The boy stared at him with wide eyes.

“Excuse me,” Kim Dokja told him.

He took the insect carrier from the boy. Quietly, he slipped one of the locusts inside into the child’s hand. Then he straightened up and offered the carrier for inspection.

“Have you forgotten? The scenario clear condition isn’t to kill a person.”

“Insects!” some quick-witted person screamed. “Give me one!”

In a moment, it was a stampede. Kim Dokja only had time to grab the chubbiest locust and to throw the carrier to the other side of the car. A squirming mass of limbs took off after the released insects.

Kim Dokja squeezed his hand.

Kim Namwoon leaned back from the old woman.

“Hey, why did you do that? Couldn’t you have just given them the insects?” he said, cracking his neck, as he stared curiously at Kim Dokja.

“There are twelve people remaining.”

“Huh?”

“There were three insects left in the carrier.”

Kim Namwoon frowned for a moment before smiling broadly.

“Twelve to three? Hahahaha! Yes. Not all of them can survive anyway? So you threw that thing?”

Kim Dokja didn’t answer.

“Don’t make me laugh. A person with common sense wouldn’t do that.” Kim Namwoon’s smile widened. “Tell me honestly. You just wanted to see this scene, didn’t you?”

He was going to be a problem, wasn’t he? Kim Dokja’s fist stayed closed around the dead locust. He hesitated. If he burst the locust’s eggs now, he could buy advancements to his stats that would be invaluable if he couldn’t reason with Kim Namwoon. But then there could really only be five survivors in carriage 3807.

As he tried to recall everything he knew about early-novel Kim Namwoon, a new window popped up in front of him.

Oh. That was interesting…

Let’s see.

As expected, that was a pretty good starting level. Meanwhile, despite all his efforts, Kim Dokja couldn’t access his own Attribute Window. However, he had a feeling that his stats would look much lamer than this.

“Team up with me,” Kim Namwoon said. “How about it?”

That was an unexpected offer.

Honestly, Kim Dokja wasn’t fond of Kim Namwoon. He was a madman, and too difficult to control for anyone but Yoo Joonghyuk. If Kim Dokja had his way, he would rather see Kim Namwoon fail the first scenario.

But Kim Namwoon was one of Yoo Joonghyuk’s precious companions. Kim Dokja didn’t want to start their acquaintance by costing him something.

“It’s difficult,” he said calmly.

“What?” Kim Namwoon laughed.

“Rather, how about you team up with me?”

Kim Namwoon laughed uproariously.

“What is that? Old man, are you trying to get me to work for you? I’m nobody’s minion, you know!”

“I’ll make it worth your while. You want to become strong, right? I know someone really strong. I’ll introduce you.”

“Oh yeah?” he said with contempt. “How strong can they be?”

Kim Dokja’s sole answer was to point to carriage 3707. Kim Namwoon glanced at it. His eyes widened.

Against his best judgment, Kim Dokja found himself looking too. By now, a furnace raged in the car. Only one man was still alive. The smoke didn’t seem to inconvenience him. He stood in the middle of the aisle, focused on the events in their car. His dark eyes glittered when Kim Dokja met them.

“Damn,” Kim Namwoon breathed in awe. “That guy does look cool. You really know him, Ahjussi? You’re not lying to me, are you?”

Kim Dokja was caught under those eyes like an insect in a spider’s web. He shouldn’t have looked.

He found himself parting his lips. The words slipped out as if in a dream.

“He’s my soulmate.”

The system window shocked him out of his daze. He couldn’t believe he had said that aloud. He hadn’t let himself utter something so absurd since he had left behind adolescence and its whims.

But there was a reason why he had said it to Kim Namwoon, of all people.

“Shit!” the boy said, wide-eyed. “For real? Lucky bastard!”

That was all. No incredulity, no laughter. None of the taunts that would have poured out of his high school bullies if they had heard him say something like that.

Because Kim Namwoon was a character. And in his world, soulmates weren’t fiction, but reality.

“You know what, deal! You’d better keep your word, Ahjussi!”

Kim Dokja didn’t dare look at Yoo Joonghyuk again. He hadn’t reacted to Kim Dokja’s words, so the glass was too smudged for him to have read his lips. Small mercies.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me,” Kim Namwoon said, turning to the old woman again.

The trembling woman looked at him with huge eyes. Kim Namwoon took a knife out of his pocket and flicked it open. Kim Dokja caught his arm.

“What are you doing?” he said, keeping his exasperation silent.

Damn this psychopath.

“What? I still have to finish this scenario, you know.”

Of course he wouldn’t try to catch one of the insects. There might not be any left by now anyway. The scuffle in the car was still ongoing, but a few people had already stopped searching. Something unwound in Kim Dokja’s chest when he saw Yoo Sangah standing next to Lee Hyunsung.

“Leave the grandmother alone,” Kim Dokja said.

“What? Hey, Ahjussi, don’t tell me you’re one of those hypocrites…”

Kim Namwoon’s smile was turning dangerous. Kim Dokja cut him off.

“Leave her alone and I’ll give you something better.”

Reluctantly curious, Kim Namwoon let go of the old woman’s collar. Kim Dokja put the dead locust in his hand. Kim Namwoon grimaced.

“Are you fucking…”

“Squeeze it.”

“What?”

“Eggs also count as living beings. Squeeze it.”

Looking at Kim Dokja with the same disgust he had had for his gift, Kim Namwoon pointedly dropped the insect on the ground and stepped on it. His face lit up at the countless system messages that popped up in front of his face.

“Hey! Wicked! Haha, what’s that? The ‘Mass Murderer’ achievement?”

Kim Dokja kept his sigh to himself. There went a perfectly good scenario accelerator. Although, come to think of it…

“Give me half the coins and I’ll show you something even better.”

“How do I do that?”

Kim Namwoon’s eagerness was frankly disturbing. He didn’t want a teenage psychopath to look at him with such shiny eyes.

As he showed Kim Namwoon how to transfer coins, then how to use the ones he had left to level up his stats, the timer suspended under the car’s roof reached zero.

In carriage 3807, people’s heads started exploding. One, two, three… Kim Namwoon stared at the scene with a mix of fascination and morbid glee. Kim Dokja hauled him out of the way just in time for the spray of blood from the grandmother’s head to miss him. Kim Namwoon gave a weird laugh. He seemed entranced.

Kim Dokja also looked. There was no use denying it any longer. His world had changed.

When everything was over, there were six people left standing in the car. Him, Kim Namwoon, Lee Hyunsung, Yoo Sangah, Han Myungoh and the kid who had caught the insects.

With a screech, the train started moving again. Soon, they left the tunnel. The light of dusk flooded in through the windows. The Han River and a devastated Seoul spread out in front of them.

So it had. But as he watched the scenery with his shocked companions, Kim Dokja could only feel that this was really just a beginning.

Ah, yes. Those guys were also here. He had to be careful with what he said from now on.

... He should have been careful even earlier than this, actually.

The train stopped again and the dokkaebi reappeared to blink at them in curiosity.

[Wow, amazing. For twenty-two people to be connected to my channel… Haha, it looks like something interesting happened here while I was watching the other carriages? Welcome, constellations!]

He waved at the little stars floating above his head, then peered at the humans.

[The number of survivors is quite high?]

“Six out of twelve,” Kim Namwoon sneered as if disappointed. “Hey, Ahjussi, isn’t it a good bargain for a bunch of bugs? Haha!”

The other survivors watched him warily. Kim Namwoon’s attitude toward Kim Dokja was pretty good for now, though. He seemed to have decided that Kim Dokja was a profitable person to cast his lot with. Now, as for the others…

“Are you injured, Yoo Sangah-ssi?” he asked.

She gave him a wan smile.

“I’m alright. How is Dokja-ssi?”

“I’m also alright.”

“Dokja-ssi… you’re surprisingly… Ah. No, it’s nothing.”

She threw a terse glance at Kim Namwoon. Of course someone like Yoo Sangah wouldn’t take kindly to a person like him. She couldn’t approve of Kim Dokja earning his good will. He was sorry about that, but for the early scenarios, Kim Namwoon was a more interesting ally than a woman whose future performance Kim Dokja knew nothing about.

Come to think of it, there were four of them who weren’t characters. Kim Dokja’s eyes slid over Han Myungoh, ignoring the department head currently blustering at the dokkaebi, and fell on the child.

“Kid.”

At his voice, the boy looked up from the corpse of the woman he had been traveling with. There were bandages under his sleeves. His eyes were glassy from something that looked more like fear than grief.

If this had happened to him when he was the boy’s age, would Kim Dokja have looked any different? Despite himself, his voice gentled.

“Do you want to live?”

Shakily, the boy nodded. Kim Dokja nodded back.

“Then let’s go together.”

The boy slowly shuffled closer to his legs.

“Heh?” Kim Namwoon said in distaste. “Ahjussi, you’re going to lug a little kid around? Why are you pretending to be a bleeding heart?”

He couldn’t see the windows that had appeared to Kim Dokja’s sight, but the reminder of his own hypocrisy left a bitter taste in Kim Dokja’s mouth.

That’s right. He was a hypocrite. He was only taking in the child to make a good impression. But he wasn’t Yoo Joonghyuk, was he? He had to find his own way to survive.

“Kim Namwoon, enough!” Lee Hyunsung intervened. “After everything that happened, why do you have to provoke others?”

“What do you want, soldier man?” the teenager sneered. “Don’t get on my case. If you annoy me too much…” He made a slicing motion across his neck with his pocketknife, his smirk wild.

Lee Hyunsung ignored him and turned to Kim Dokja.

“Ah, hello. I am Lee Hyunsung.”

Kim Dokja took the hand offered to him.

“Nice to meet you, Lee Hyunsung-ssi. I’m Kim Dokja.”

“I wanted to thank you. If it wasn’t for Kim Dokja-ssi… even if I had lived, I wouldn’t have been able to live as a person. Thank you so much.”

Steel Sword Lee Hyunsung bowed deeply. It left Kim Dokja with complicated feelings. Lee Hyunsung would have lived with or without him. All he had done was throw a bunch of bugs across a room. Yet somehow, it had been enough to earn him the respect of both of Yoo Joonghyuk’s earliest allies…

That was good, undeniably. But wasn’t it too easy?

He threw a look over his shoulder. He was too far from the door to carriage 3707 to see the man through it, but it didn’t keep him from feeling a heavy gaze burrowing into his back. Thankfully, the force field was still up.

[Hellooo,] the dokkaebi sang. [Are you guys done gossiping in the back of the classroom?]

It seemed he had gotten bored of his argument with Han Myungoh. He was lounging in mid-air and leveling an unimpressed look on them.

[I’m trying to give you lot a reward, but if you’re not interested, maybe I won’t waste my breath.]

“A reward?” Kim Namwoon said.

The dokkaebi promptly perked up. He proceeded to explain the Sponsor Selection to his rapt audience. Kim Dokja alone tuned him out, hyperaware of the storm cloud brewing in the next car over.

Finally, the selection window opened in front of his eyes.

Oh, four propositions? That was pretty good for the selection of the first scenario. Let’s see.

The first modifier set off a little warmth in his chest. Demon-like Judge of Fire… As one of his favorite characters from the 999th turn, Archangel Uriel was certainly a good option.

Next… Prisoner of the Golden Headband! Kim Dokja’s eyes bugged out at the name. Now that was a very good option. He had no idea why Sun Wukong was interested, but it was enough to make him hesitate at following his initial plan.

Then… Secretive Plotter? He didn’t know this modifier. Probably not a very strong constellation.

And finally… Weaver of the Twin Threads of Fate??? Heat bloomed on Kim Dokja’s cheeks.

This constellation didn’t appear a lot in Ways of Survival. Unlike most of the constellations in the novel, she wasn’t inspired by real historical or mythical figures. She was only here to provide depth to the soulmate mechanism. In Ways of Survival, each corner of the world had developed mythology pertaining to the soulmarks. Weaver of the Twin Threads of Fate was one of those goddesses, an unnamed entity who appeared periodically to lament on Yoo Joonghyuk’s fruitless search. He had negotiated with her once, but she had been unable to give him more information on his missing soulmate.

And now she was offering to sponsor Kim Dokja. Had she offered the same to Yoo Joonghyuk? If she had, he was bound to have noticed. She had never before appeared on his list of possible sponsors.

How had Kim Dokja managed to dig such a deep grave for himself in just one scenario?

He closed the window with a decisive jab of a finger. The Sponsor Selection ended.

A thousand coins just for the Sponsor Selection? Kim Dokja tried not to goggle. Maybe he should rescind his opinion on that guy. He had to be rich if he could afford to blow that kind of money on the early scenarios. What had Kim Dokja done to please him so much?

Hey, now, no fighting. Or at least, no fighting outside of a donation fight. He wouldn’t mind it if Sun Wukong chose to outbid Secretive Plotter.

Sadly, that didn’t happen.

At least those two were getting along. If only they could do it outside of his notifications.

[Haha, it looks like there was an interesting choice,] the dokkaebi said, his beady eyes on Kim Dokja. [Well, it’s true that there will be another chance. Now, everyone, rest here for a while. I have to go prepare the next scenario. I’ll see you in ten minutes!]

No sooner had the creature disappeared that there was a loud metallic bang. They all turned toward the front car.

Another deafening bang rent the air. A dent appeared in the thick door.

Shit. The force field was gone.

Chapter Text

“Hey, Ahjussi,” Kim Namwoon crowed. “It looks like your SM is in a hurry to get here!”

“SM?” Yoo Sangah repeated.

Of course, she didn’t know anything about soulmates. Neither did Han Myungoh or the kid, Lee Gilyoung. Kim Dokja felt a faint headache. If it came out in front of the constellations that neither of those three people had heard of something so fundamental to this world, it would create suspicion. Thankfully, Kim Namwoon was the type to use teenage slang.

“Oh,” Lee Hyunsung said, looking surprised. “Kim Dokja-ssi, is the man in the other car your…”

Damn it, Lee Hyunsung.

“We have to get out,” Kim Dokja cut in.

“Huh?” said Kim Namwoon.

“We can’t stay here,” he insisted, walking to the nearest double door to investigate it.

“That… thing… said to wait,” Han Myungoh argued. “If we move, then our heads might explode! Besides, outside is full of monsters!”

“The monsters are far. You want to take your chances with that guy instead? He’s the only survivor of his carriage. You know what that means, right?”

As if to punctuate Kim Dokja’s words, another slam made everyone jump.

“Crazy,” Kim Namwoon snickered. Then, as the others scattered in a sudden burst of motivation to find an exit, he crowded at Kim Dokja’s side. “Hey, what’s going on here? You said you’d introduce me!”

“I can do that when he catches up to us,” he whispered. “But we have to move.”

Kim Namwoon watched him critically. This kid acted like a madman most of the time, but unfortunately, he was pretty sharp. Kim Dokja couldn’t think of a lie that would satisfy him, but neither could he explain about the bridge collapsing soon without raising undue attention from their audience.

Kim Namwoon sniffed.

“Fine. You’re sus, Ahjussi, but our deals have worked out pretty well for me. I guess you know what you’re doing.”

A few minutes later, a judicious use of Lee Hyunsung’s stigma on the stuck doors allowed the six of them to spill out onto the train tracks.

“Not too bad, soldier man,” Kim Namwoon said, reluctantly impressed.

The dokkaebi popped up, looking annoyed.

[Ah… really. I knew this would happen. I told you not to go anywhere, damn! The scenario isn’t ready yet.] He sighed. [I guess it can’t be helped. You are really lucky humans.]

Yes. It’s not like the dokkaebi had much of a choice. The second scenario had automatically started as soon as the train doors had opened.

“Dokja-ssi, something is strange,” Yoo Sangah said. “It says ‘the broken bridge’ but the bridge is still…”

“Don’t worry about that and just run!” Kim Dokja exclaimed as he helped Lee Hyunsung charge Lee Gilyoung upon his back.

Kim Namwoon didn’t need to be told twice. He started running, then let out a startled whoop as he realized that his stats increase had had a direct result on his speed. He shot forward like a cackling missile.

“Kim Namwoon!” Lee Hyunsung shouted, running right behind him. “Wait up! We should stay grouped!”

After them came Han Myungoh, Yoo Sangah, and finally Kim Dokja, who lost a few seconds preparing.

As expected, this stat had started from Lv. 1. No doubt his Agility, Strength and Mana were also at Lv. 1. It was a little depressing. It was true that he hadn’t exercised much (or ever) since he had left the army but still…

Of course, the damn dokkaebi couldn’t let this scenario end so easily. They were close to the end of the bridge when, out of the corner of his eye, Kim Dokja saw the scenario window change. The difficulty switched from E to D. The dokkaebi’s laughter floated above their heads. With a burst of dark energy, the corpses of the people who had died on the bridge started moving.

“Z-zombies?” Yoo Sangah muttered.

“We just need to go a little further! Quickly!” Kim Dokja said.

But there were soon too many reanimated corpses for them to keep barging through. Han Myungoh, Yoo Sangah and Kim Dokja were separated from their other companions. Ever ready for an unhinged fight like this one, Kim Namwoon tried to come back, but a shiny barrier stopped him. He and Lee Hyunsung had reached the station. The second scenario had ended for them.

Kim Dokja sighed. Maybe that was the difference between those of them who were legitimate characters and those who were hitchhikers. Ah, Lee Gilyoung was also safe, though.

The rest of them were out of time. With a roar that sounded like the end of the world had come, the portion of the bridge still separating them from the station collapsed under the assaults of an ichthyosaur.

The next few minutes were chaos. Yoo Sangah’s unknown sponsor demonstrated a constellation’s usual immorality by creating a bridge that they could only use by sacrificing one person. Then Han Myungoh took advantage of the demonic people’s attacks on Kim Dokja to throw Yoo Sangah over his shoulder. He took off with her despite her shrill protests.

Left alone to deal with a growing number of enemies, Kim Dokja had a cynical smile. Maybe this had been inevitable since the moment he had said the S word to Kim Namwoon where the Star Stream could hear.

Aah, so noisy. Yes, he knew very well who was heading toward him right now. But he first had to survive until that man got here, didn’t he? Luckily, another skill of his deigned to reveal itself. With the help of Bookmark, he was able to copy Lee Hyunsung’s fighting style. He used it to defend himself against the demonic people and push as many off of the bridge as possible. The constellations rejoiced at his struggle and sent him more coins.

He really had to resolve the bug that prevented him from accessing his Attribute Window. If he had other combat skills, he didn’t know them.

Finally, a cacophony rose from further down the bridge. It was obviously the sound of a person’s flesh hitting bodies, but it sounded more like a mace crushing meat. Demonic people flew in the air like a tank was speeding through them.

Kim Dokja felt a shiver run down his spine. That man was purposefully doing crazy things to gain achievements and donations. There was really no person like the protagonist. Kim Dokja was battered and exhausted after a few minutes of this fight, yet that man forged through the enemies like they were cardboard cutouts.

An overwhelming force swept through the crowd around Kim Dokja. He ducked as the demonic people went flying like dominoes. With pathetic shrieks, the reanimated corpses were swept off of the bridge and into the river far below.

The man left standing in their wake wasn’t even armed. He had done this with his fists alone.

Under a regal brow, two burning eyes were on Kim Dokja.

“Who are you?”

Shit, even the voice was excellent.

In an attempt to calm his stuttering breath, Kim Dokja turned on Character List.

What.

Kim Dokja felt himself blanch.

So far, he had used Character List on four people. It had worked as expected on two of them, Kim Namwoon and Lee Hyunsung.

It had given him these same error messages on the two others, Yoo Sangah and Han Myungoh.

People who weren’t characters.

A large hand closed around his neck. The black eyes were suddenly much closer. Kim Dokja’s feet scrabbled uselessly on asphalt, then swung over the void.

“I asked you who you were,” Supreme King Yoo Joonghyuk declared.

Even without the grip around his windpipe, Kim Dokja would have been unable to answer. His throat had closed. That stupid broken skill Fourth Wall wouldn’t stop sending warnings. They filled his sight along with the confused and intrigued messages from the constellations. He closed his eyes to block everything out. Disconnected thoughts whirled through his head.

Fuck.

What if he was wrong?

Yoo Joonghyuk wasn’t a character.

What if he made a fool of himself by claiming something that wasn’t true?

How could he not be a character?

Yoo Joonghyuk would kill him without hesitation if he didn’t answer.

Wasn’t his birthmark just a birthmark?

Could he convince Yoo Joonghyuk to let him live if he was wrong?

If Yoo Joonghyuk’s description didn’t do him justice, how could a block of text paint a perfect picture of his soulmark?

What if he was wrong?

What if he was wrong?

whatifhewaswrong

What if he was right?

Kim Dokja fumbled at his collar. Yoo Joonghyuk quirked a wary brow when his tie went falling down to the water below. He didn’t make a move to stop him. Kim Dokja fought with his shirt’s buttons, but his fingers shook too much.

Finally, feeling like the world’s lamest Superman, he ripped the shirt open. Buttons went flying.

On the left side of his chest, a brown mark stood stark against the pale skin.

On Yoo Joonghyuk’s golden skin, an abstract form could be seen. A lopsided circle containing two straight lines evoked the face of a watch, while the sweeping curves around it could have been falling feathers.

Personally, Kim Dokja had always thought they looked more like scattered pages than feathers.

There was a suspended moment. Then Yoo Joonghyuk’s eyes widened. This beautiful face that had been locked in hostility a second ago bloomed open. Naked astonishment shone.

The grip on Kim Dokja’s throat slackened. Alarmed, he clutched at the arm that was the only thing keeping him from a long fall. Yoo Joonghyuk startled out of his daze and flung him onto the bridge. Kim Dokja landed harshly on his knees.

They looked at each other in silence. Even the constellations had shut up.

“Your name?” Yoo Joonghyuk eventually said.

His voice was hoarse.

“... Kim Dokja.”

Yoo Joonghyuk mouthed the syllables. Kim Dokja rose slowly. He waited, but Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t look in the right frame of mind to comment on the strange name.

The next question didn’t come. Instead, Yoo Joonghyuk’s right eye started to glow gold.

Kim Dokja was surprised to feel a twinge of hurt. He should have expected this. Of course Yoo Joonghyuk would be suspicious; others had tried to trick him before. There was a rare skill in Ways of Survival that could mimic someone’s soulmark. Scammer characters could use that skill to great effect to attach themselves to someone strong and ride on their coattails. However, a skill like that could never fool the Eye of the Sage.

This wasn’t a bad situation. Maybe he could actually find out the contents of his Attribute Window from Yoo Joonghyuk.

What? Hey, be serious. The Eye of the Sage was a SS-grade skill!

A shimmer appeared in mid-air, like the heat of a fire crackling against a vibrating wall. Yoo Joonghyuk looked as startled as Kim Dokja felt.

Kim Dokja’s eyes widened.

One Half of a Whole? That attribute… did he really have that attribute?

The invisible wall shattered in sparkling shards. Kim Dokja staggered, feeling like he had taken a hit to the back of the head.

“Ugh!”

Yoo Joonghyuk caught him by the arms. Kim Dokja gripped his coat, dazed. His vision had gone strange. Yoo Joonghyuk suddenly looked more vibrant, more real than anything else around them. The bridge, the sky, the ruins of Seoul on the shore seemed washed out and flat, but he could count every one of Yoo Joonghyuk’s eyelashes. He could see every color of the sunset reflected in his pupils.

He only realized he was staring when Yoo Joonghyuk turned away from system windows and met his eyes. Kim Dokja forced his jaw open.

“So?”

The Eye of the Sage had worked, in the end.

“Is ‘Heart Counterfeiter’ among my skills?”

Something flashed on Yoo Joonghyuk’s face.

“You know a lot,” he said.

“I have to keep up with you.”

Yoo Joonghyuk looked surprised. It was a strangely bare expression; one that could have been made by any ordinary twenty-eight-old man, not a legendary and ruthless regressor.

“You saw it on the list, didn’t you?” Kim Dokja added.

“... ‘One Half of a Whole’.”

Kim Dokja had to look away. He licked his lips.

“Do you have it too?”

Yoo Joonghyuk glanced at a window Kim Dokja couldn’t see. Slowly, his chin dipped in a nod. Kim Dokja’s heart hammered in his chest.

This attribute could only belong to soulmates who had found each other.

Yoo Joonghyuk’s hands tightened on Kim Dokja’s arms. He glanced in the direction of the abandoned train. Too many emotions stormed in his eyes for them to be read.

“Where were you?” he whispered.

He sounded angry. But Kim Dokja would have bet good money that he was just lost. Yoo Joonghyuk had searched for his soulmate all over the world, so how could he have been waiting at the beginning all along? Why hadn’t he appeared before then? Had Yoo Joonghyuk done something in all his previous turns to cause Kim Dokja to die in that subway car? Was it his fault that they had never met before?

Kim Dokja’s throat closed. He had no answer for Yoo Joonghyuk. Even if he could have begun to explain, he wouldn’t have done it now.

Images flashed through Kim Dokja’s head. In between all the scenes of Yoo Joonghyuk’s long search, his own memories glimmered like raindrops. The pain, the absences, the isolation. When he was fifteen, he had opened a certain novel. He had touched his chest and thought that he had finally found the cure to his loneliness. Here was someone who existed to understand him, finally.

An adult’s reason had long pushed the fantasy away. After all, soulmates were fiction.

But today, in deference to the child who had dared to dream, he let those old words fall from his lips.

“I missed you too.”

Not even tls123 could have described the way Yoo Joonghyuk looked at him then. His face was hard, but his eyes shone. He let go of Kim Dokja’s arms. His hands closed around Kim Dokja’s on his lapels. His grip was tight enough to hurt, but Kim Dokja didn’t protest.

Reluctantly, Kim Dokja pushed away.

“There is no time,” he said. “Yoo Joonghyuk, let’s talk later. We should cross that bridge.”

The scenario countdown had dropped under four minutes and kept blinking cheerfully away. Yoo Joonghyuk glared at it.

“Fine,” he bit out.

He whirled around. His long coat smacked against Kim Dokja’s legs. Really. Did that man have to look so needlessly cool?

As Kim Dokja made to follow, Yoo Joonghyuk stopped.

“Close your blazer.”

“What?”

When he didn’t obey fast enough for his tastes, Yoo Joonghyuk reached for Kim Dokja’s suit jacket himself and closed its two buttons over his ruined shirt. Kim Dokja stood dumbfounded.

“Yoo Joonghyuk… are you worried for my modesty?”

Yoo Joonghyuk gave him a thunderous scowl.

“Be quiet,” he growled.

But when he turned away, the tip of his ears was red.

Oh no. That was so stupidly cute.

Kim Dokja didn’t know what his own face was doing, but it prompted a few indirect notifications that he refused to look at.

They crossed the bridge of light together. Just in front of the scenario boundary, Yoo Joonghyuk stopped again.

The rest of Kim Dokja’s group could be seen from here, though Yoo Joonghyuk and Kim Dokja couldn’t be seen in return. No sound passed through. Han Myungoh was arguing about something. No doubt he was trying to get the others to give up on Kim Dokja. It wouldn’t be good for him if Kim Dokja caught up and chose to take revenge for his trick. However, the looks Lee Hyunsung, Yoo Sangah and Lee Gilyoung were giving him were less than receptive. Kim Namwoon just stood to the side, grinning in an entertained way.

“How did you know?” Yoo Joonghyuk said.

Kim Dokja blinked.

“What?”

“How did you know I have that mark too? And I didn’t give you my name… so how did you know it?”

He turned to Kim Dokja. His face had gone dark with suspicion.

Shit. Of course, it wasn’t that easy to field the protagonist’s well-earned paranoia. That was his fault, anyway. He shouldn’t have acted so familiar. But how he could he have not? Kim Dokja couldn’t imagine wearing that mark on his chest and hiding it from Yoo Joonghyuk. That was a level of cruelty he wasn’t capable of.

What could he say? The more time passed, the more Kim Dokja would prove that he had knowledge he shouldn’t. That was inevitable. But he couldn’t pretend to be a prophet. Yoo Joonghyuk had already seen his Attribute Window. Ironically, Yoo Joonghyuk knew more about Kim Dokja’s skills than Kim Dokja did himself, which made lying just about impossible.

Lying…

“Hey, you have Lie Detection, right?” Kim Dokja said.

Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t answer. His jaw was tight.

“Use it on me now,” Kim Dokja said.

He frowned at the sky, carefully choosing his next words.

“There are things I can’t tell you right now. Some parts I wouldn’t know how to explain, others I don’t understand yet.” And none of it should be said in front of constellations. “But I’m not trying to manipulate you. I would never purposely hurt you. The only thing I want is for you to see the end of the scenarios with your companions.”

Yoo Joonghyuk’s eyes shook at the message.

Yoo Joonghyuk frowned.

“Say a lie.”

“What?”

“I want to check something. Lie.”

Was he afraid that Kim Dokja had a way to confuse Lie Detection? Well, Kim Dokja wasn’t too clear on what One Half of a Whole could do. It was never described much in Ways of Survival, which meant that Yoo Joonghyuk had to be unclear about its use too.

Kim Dokja glanced around for inspiration. He found the group waiting behind the partition.

“Hmm… I think Kim Namwoon is a worthwhile ally to have.”

“I also think that Lee Hyunsung is a good companion.”

Yoo Joonghyuk looked at him in surprise.

“Is your test done?” Kim Dokja asked.

“... Why did I see you negotiating with Kim Namwoon if you didn’t want him?”

Kim Dokja shrugged.

“He is one of your companions. If it had been just me, I would have delayed him until he failed the first scenario. He’s powerful, but he’s too much of a handful. You can deal with him from now on.”

Instead of being insulted on his incarnation’s behalf, he gave him coins? Damn chuuni.

Wait, what.

While Kim Dokja marveled at the nonsensical priorities of constellations, Yoo Joonghyuk stared at him, something unknown behind his eyes. The scenario countdown slipped under one minute.

“Yoo Joonghyuk…”

Yoo Joonghyuk turned away.

“This conversation isn’t over,” he promised.

Kim Dokja breathed easier. He was already surprised that Yoo Joonghyuk was willing to let it drop for now. Had he been so convincing? Yoo Joonghyuk had been betrayed too often to readily let someone hide something important from him, soulmate or not. It was even truer in the later regressions…

Come to think of it, which regression was this? Just because Ways of Survival started at the third turn, it didn’t mean that Kim Dokja had necessarily landed there, did it?

Yoo Joonghyuk was halfway through the shimmering wall. His hand shot out and caught Kim Dokja’s wrist. Kim Dokja was forcefully pulled into the station.

The others rose, their faces lighting up in relief.

“Dokja-ssi! You’re alright!”

“What happened with the, uh, zombies?” Lee Hyunsung asked anxiously. “Are you injured?”

“I’m fine. Yoo Joonghyuk helped me take care of them.”

The group sized up Kim Dokja’s tall and dour-looking companion. Lee Hyunsung gave Yoo Joonghyuk a hesitant smile, but Kim Namwoon spoke first with a hoarse laugh.

“Is that the only thing he helped you take care of, Ahjussi? Look at you, getting frisky in the middle of the apocalypse! You’re less uptight than I thought!”

Lee Hyunsung and Yoo Sangah blushed and ostentatiously didn’t look at Kim Dokja’s ruined shirt. Han Myungoh nudged his glasses up with a poisonous mutter.

“No wonder you were always so reluctant to join your colleagues for a few honest drinks if that’s the kind of things you’d rather get up to,” he said. Kim Dokja, sensitive to the darkening storm cloud by his side, took an instinctive step back. “So you’re that sort, then… Buargh!”

Yoo Joonghyuk’s hands shot out and clamped around Han Myungoh and Kim Namwoon’s throats. He lifted both men off the ground like they weighed nothing. The fire in his eyes was nothing short of demonic.

“Show. Some. Respect,” he growled.

“How… how dare you?” Han Myungoh squeaked. “Do you know who…” And then, at an even higher pitch: “Glargh! I’m sorry, I’m sorry! Please forgive me!”

Kim Namwoon raised both hands to the sky in surrender with a snicker of awe. Yoo Joonghyuk swept a glare at Kim Dokja, like it was his fault that these two idiots had dared to run their mouths in his presence. Hey, how was he supposed to rein them in? Did he look like he could pull off the protagonist aura? After getting such a good look at it, he could say with certainty that it was really asking too much of him. Shit, how high was Yoo Joonghyuk’s strength? It had to already be over 15. That was too unreasonable…

Yoo Joonghyuk glared at Lee Hyunsung next.

“Lee Hyunsung.”

“Y-yes!” the poor man said, straightening to a parade rest.

Yoo Joonghyuk’s eye glowed gold. He gave another affronted look at Kim Dokja. Kim Dokja answered with a shrug. He could guess at what Yoo Joonghyuk was thinking, but so what? Originally, Lee Hyunsung was supposed to be one of only two survivors in the battle royal of carriage 3807. He would have gotten a lot of coins and raised his stats that way. But now he had just crushed a locust. Of course there would be a difference.

“Your stats are pathetic,” Yoo Joonghyuk spat at Lee Hyunsung. “We’ll be remedying that.”

“Yes, Captain!”

Kim Dokja’s lips twitched. Lee Hyunsung had just lost his hierarchy. In every regression turn, all it took was one order from Yoo Joonghyuk for him to consider him his new superior.

“As for you,” Yoo Joonghyuk added toward Kim Namwoon, “we’ll be working on your discipline.”

“As long as I can get stronger.” Yoo Joonghyuk’s hand tightened around his throat. Kim Namwoon didn’t lose his deranged smile, but he did force out a correction: “Aye-aye, Captain.”

Yoo Joonghyuk let him drop. He turned a critical eye to the whimpering man hanging from his other fist. He looked doubtfully at Kim Dokja.

“Yeah, I don’t know,” Kim Dokja said with another shrug. “If he can’t get it through his thick skull that his status in the old world is worthless now, he’s not going to make it far anyway. Maybe you can use him as target practice? He has some sort of fleeing skill, doesn’t he?”

In fact, one of Han Myungoh’s legs still hung at a weird angle from his use of the skill earlier. It was why he hadn’t dumped the rest of the group before Kim Dokja’s arrival.

“W-wait a minute…” Department Head Han sputtered. “Kim Dokja-ssi… Kim Dokja-nim! Earlier, I didn’t mean it…!”

Kim Dokja ignored him.

“Yoo Sangah-ssi and the kid are with me, though,” he said.

Yoo Joonghyuk obligingly turned his golden eye on them. Immediately, confusion filled his face. Kim Dokja whipped around. What was he seeing? Which of the two was he looking at? Kim Dokja tried using Character List, but once again, it just gave him error messages.

He ground his teeth. He didn’t like not knowing something. This was Ways of Survival. He should know everything there was to know. Should he have avoided saving anyone who wasn’t in the original novel? He had thought that it wouldn’t make much of a difference, but if Yoo Joonghyuk was reacting, he must have underestimated who those non-character incarnations could become.

But then, he could just ask, couldn’t he? Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t often share his thoughts, but Kim Dokja bore that mark on his chest. Even though Yoo Joonghyuk still held doubts that he was the person he had been searching for all this time, he had already proven willing to cut him some slack. Kim Dokja might as well push his luck and figure out how much he could get away with.

“What is it?” he said.

Yoo Joonghyuk turned his head to him.

“You picked them without knowing…?”

“I don’t have the Eye of the Sage,” Kim Dokja reminded him.

“You still have a detection skill,” Yoo Joonghyuk retorted. “That skill ‘Character List’… isn’t it one?”

Kim Dokja smiled, feeling weirdly proud. Yes, his protagonist was a sharp one.

“It is. But it’s a bit finicky.”

Yoo Joonghyuk seemed to accept that. The Eye of the Sage was after all meant to be the strongest detection skill. Others could be countered with appropriate skills, or even with a high enough Mana level.

Unfortunately, all Yoo Joonghyuk said was: “You picked interesting companions.”

Kim Dokja tried not to scowl. Not that free with his words, then.

“But a group this large will be hard to raise,” Yoo Joonghyuk added. “Your stats are also the most pathetic here by far.”

Excuse you, Kim Dokja had 3,900 coins to his name by now. That was far more interesting than stats. In fact, he had enough to raise all his stats to Lv.5, but that wouldn’t be enough to impress this jerk and the coins were more useful for now. He had only raised Stamina so he wouldn’t die at the first scratch from monsters.

“Don’t be too hard on me, Yoo Joonghyuk,” he said with a winning smile. “I was only a desk jockey, you know.”

Yoo Joonghyuk narrowed his eyes at him. Maybe he could tell something was off by that reaction.

What?

Kim Dokja’s eyes widened. Wait. Shit, why hadn’t he realized that this stupid thing would work both ways? A triumphant smirk appeared on Yoo Joonghyuk’s lips. Kim Dokja hated how good it looked on him.

“How many?” Yoo Joonghyuk said.

‘How many coins?’

Shit. At least Yoo Joonghyuk was looking at him with more interest now. Kim Dokja turned away, his cheeks warm. He wasn’t sure it was an improvement.

“Anyway, I have my own ideas on how we can raise everyone,” he said. “Let’s get out of here for now and compare notes when we’ll stop for the night.”

Before Yoo Joonghyuk could retort, there was a gasp from Lee Hyunsung. Almost before Kim Dokja noticed the white streak darting toward Yoo Joonghyuk, Yoo Joonghyuk’s free hand disappeared. Kim Namwoon smashed into one of the station’s pillars with a bang that echoed over the river like a gunshot. Yoo Sangah jumped, horrified. Kim Namwoon slid to the ground in a limp heap, blood trickling over his dazed smirk. His knife dropped from his lifeless hand.

“...” said Kim Dokja.

“...” said Yoo Joonghyuk.

There was really no leaving that guy alone for five minutes. If he got bored, he would pull stupid stuff like this.

“Is he…” Yoo Sangah said.

“Alive,” Yoo Joonghyuk said. “Lee Hyunsung, carry him.”

“Yes, Captain!”

“Hmm, excuse me…” Han Myungoh squeaked, still hanging from Yoo Joonghyuk’s hand.

“Shut up.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I don’t know what you’re complaining about,” Kim Dokja told him lightly. “You can’t walk anyway.”

Han Myungoh’s face twisted like he had bitten into something sour, but he remained silent, even when Yoo Joonghyuk let him flop onto the ground and started dragging him by the collar.

Yoo Joonghyuk took the lead, Lee Hyunsung right behind him. Yoo Sangah and Lee Gilyoung closed ranks around Kim Dokja. They didn’t look reassured by their new leadership. To be fair, Yoo Joonghyuk wasn’t the comforting type.

But he had been in some of his regression turns, hadn’t he? Let’s see, the 1st, 2nd, 999th… If Kim Dokja wasn’t in one of these, that still left more than one thousand eight hundred. He wouldn’t figure out which regression this was by process of elimination.

“Don’t worry,” Kim Dokja told Yoo Sangah and Lee Gilyoung. “I know Yoo Joonghyuk seems ruthless, but he’s really the best person to stick with now that the world is like this.”

“Does Dokja-ssi know him?” Yoo Sangah ventured. “Is he the person you were looking for earlier?”

“Well… it’s a bit complicated. Let’s say we’re acquaintances.”

Lee Gilyoung took Kim Dokja’s hand without a word. Kim Dokja squeezed it gently.

“Yoo Joonghyuk wants everyone to become stronger. It will be hard, but the stronger you become, the higher your chances of surviving. Alright?”

Lee Gilyoung looked at him seriously. He nodded. Kim Dokja smiled at him as they left the station.

Chapter Text

No sooner had their group gone down the stairs that connected the elevated Oksu station to ground level that the next scenario window appeared.

Right on cue, a deafening bellow rang through the streets. The few sunken-eyed survivors who had been milling around without purpose froze. The ground shook. The head of a gigantic insect monster appeared above the top of the buildings. Lee Gilyoung stared at it with a gaping mouth.

Even for Kim Dokja, the view was chill-inducing. Only an hour ago, Seoul was intact and he was on his way home from work. Now he was witnessing with his own two eyes a scene straight from a horror movie. The dokkaebis really weren’t losing any time in ushering the story along. Well, they didn’t want their audience to get bored, after all.

“Dokja-ssi?” Yoo Sangah said, her voice shaky.

“Follow Yoo Joonghyuk,” he repeated.

His unfazed behavior seemed to calm her a bit. Yoo Joonghyuk traced his way without looking back, indifferent to the panicking passersby.

“Move underground!” Kim Dokja yelled to the people. “Take shelter underground!”

Most ignored him. Some ran toward the nearest buildings, abandoned stores with the lights still on or apartment complexes with doors smashed open. Kim Dokja clicked his tongue. The scenario deliberately didn’t detail what counted as shelter. But when the 7th-grade Great Poisonous Rhinoceroses would appear in one hour, the poisonous fog they created would permeate everywhere above ground. Furthermore, many buildings would get crushed during the fights between the Rhinoceroses and the Insect Kings.

Yoo Joonghyuk threw a look at Kim Dokja over his shoulder. He stopped walking.

“Get underground!” he shouted.

The sonorous voice captured people’s attention with insulting ease. Everyone turned to Yoo Joonghyuk.

“Get in the subway system if you want to live! Take food and essentials with you.”

“The subway,” people babbled. “Geumho Station is this way!”

The scattered retreat took a more ordered direction. Kim Dokja glanced curiously at Yoo Joonghyuk.

“Don’t bother with small fries,” Yoo Joonghyuk grunted.

Kim Dokja smiled without answering. Yoo Joonghyuk turned his back on him.

“You should go to Geumho Station too,” he said. “I…”

“I know, I know. You’re taking a detour.”

Yoo Joonghyuk stared at him then, his eyes intense. When he had wanted a soulmate to understand him, he probably hadn’t expected one that could read him so easily from the get-go. Kim Dokja smiled. He refrained from adding that he knew where Yoo Joonghyuk was heading, and why.

“… I’m taking Lee Hyunsung and Kim Namwoon with me,” Yoo Joonghyuk said.

“Fine. But only if you take Han Myungoh-ssi too.”

“What!” the man in question exclaimed. “Wait a minute. I didn’t agree to that!”

Kim Dokja ignored him.

“Yoo Sangah-ssi and I don’t have the stats to easily haul him with us. He would slow us down.”

Yoo Joonghyuk grunted in reluctant agreement.

“You could—” he said.

Kim Dokja could guess what he was going to say about his coins and his stats.

“Those are my terms,” he cut in. “Take Han Myungoh-ssi with you or the rest of us will tag along.”

Yoo Joonghyuk’s face soured. Yes, it would be far easier and faster to only take Lee Hyunsung and Kim Namwoon to face the 9th-grade monsters waiting in Maebong Mountain Park. He only had one hour to make the trip there and back, and Lee Hyunsung needed the experience from those monsters.

“Fine,” Yoo Joonghyuk said.

“See you later, Yoo Joonghyuk.”

Yoo Joonghyuk heaved the injured Han Myungoh over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and the group split up.

“Is this really alright, Dokja-ssi?” Yoo Sangah said.

“Yes. That guy is heading somewhere dangerous. As for us, the path to Geumho Station shouldn’t be too hard. We just have to be careful and avoid being seen by the giant monsters.”

“Alright.”

Kim Dokja, Yoo Sangah and Lee Gilyoung set off along the train tracks. Ten minutes later, they reached the first main intersection. They waited in the shadows until the nearest Insect King turned its back on them. They ran across on silent feet. Yoo Sangah steadfastly avoided looking at the bloody corpses scattered among the abandoned cars.

At the entrance to the Oksu tunnel, Kim Dokja stopped.

“The monsters shouldn’t be able to see you in there. Geumho Station is just across.”

“Dokja-ssi?”

“I have something I need to do too. We’ll have to part ways for now.”

“Hyung?” Lee Gilyoung said. He gripped Kim Dokja’s sleeve in a tight fist.

Kim Dokja patted his head.

“I’ll be fine,” he promised. “I’ll find you in one hour in Geumho Station. Get food if you see stores, and maybe some camping equipment. We’ll all need it when we come back. Okay?”

He didn’t think he needed to tell them to help if they came across people in need. Yoo Sangah would do that naturally. Then they would both earn coins.

This was the hypocrisy of the Star Stream: right after a scenario that had required them to murder their neighbors, this sub scenario rewarded people who helped each other to reach safety.

Having their own mission seemed to anchor Yoo Sangah and Lee Gilyoung somewhat. The kid nodded seriously.

“We’ll get supplies, Dokja-ssi,” Yoo Sangah promised. “Hurry and come back soon.”

Kim Dokja left them with one last wave. They disappeared in the tunnel. He found his bearings, then weaved through the cars toward the west, keeping low to the ground.

It took him a little while to reach his destination. He wasn’t familiar with this part of Seoul, and his phone was a useless brick in his pocket. With the network gone, there was no GPS. Thankfully, Ways of Survival had been kind enough to give the exact address. Kim Dokja wondered if this was a place that tls123 frequented somehow, or if they had just pulled a random address from the phone directory.

Whatever the case, he soon found himself on a parking lot shaded on all sides by tall trees. The display window in front of him proudly showed a variety of toddler-sized jumpers, sailor shirts and assorted ribbons. Pictures of happy dogs dressed in nauseatingly cute outfits were plastered on the door, which gaped open. The store looked deserted.

As soon as Kim Dokja entered, a system window appeared.

A satisfied smile pulled at his lips.

There had been a round or two in which Yoo Joonghyuk had mapped out all the scenarios to be found around Oksu Station in an effort to plot the most efficient regression beginning. Kim Dokja remembered this one because it had been a nice comedic break. Yoo Joonghyuk had been so offended by this scenario that he had burned the store to the ground as soon as he had finished it. He had left cursing a blue streak about his completionist tendencies, and had refused to use the item that it had netted him.

Well, Kim Dokja wasn’t quite as proud.

[Ooh,] a disembodied voice said. [There was a scenario here? How unexpected.]

The dokkaebi popped into view. He looked at Kim Dokja weirdly.

[And here I was wondering about your taste. Why did you come to such a place at a time like this?]

Kim Dokja gave him an innocent smile.

“What can I say? I’m an animal lover.”

The creature didn’t seem amused.

[Hmm. You’re a strange one. Though you’re making things lively on my channel, I’ll give you that. Do you intend to solve this scenario? There are only 30 minutes left for you to escape the giant monsters.]

“I’ll be fine.”

[Oh? Then I’ll leave you to it.]

Before the dokkaebi’s smug face could disappear, Kim Dokja said:

“Wait. Low-level dokkaebi Bihyung… now that we’re alone, let’s talk.”

Even if Kim Dokja had some idea of what he was looking for, it took him a while to solve the clues left by the scenario. The Pearl White Cloak was, of course, neither pearl white nor a cloak, and tls123’s only description of it had been along the line of “an affront to esthetic sense and human intelligence”. Not that Kim Dokja could disagree once he held the checkered red and green frilly blouse.

By the point he could shove it into his pocket, the windows were shaking from the screeches of the Rhinoceroses and the Insect Kings fighting outside. A purple fog was slipping around the doorframe.

Yes, yes, he knew. It was a shame to lose the 300 coins of the shelter sub scenario, but the reward for the hidden scenario was higher. Kim Dokja readjusted the Ellain Monkey’s Lungs in his mouth and perused the shelves one last time. He snatched a ribbon collar and the longest leash he could find.

Kim Dokja couldn’t talk to himself like the constellations liked when his mouth was full, but he waved a hand in acknowledgment of the messages. No need to be impatient, he was going. It was unfortunate that he needed such a ridiculous scenario so early. He hoped that he wouldn’t lose Sun Wukong’s attention because of that.

Night had fallen outside. At least it was easier to slip below the notice of the giant monsters. Kim Dokja retraced his steps through the shadows, then followed the Oksu tunnel. He only had twenty minutes of breathable air with the Monkey’s Lungs, so he didn’t make any new stop.

Soon he was jogging down the stairs to Geumho Station.

“Who is here?” an agitated voice called from below.

The access was guarded by a few men with ramshackle weapons. Kim Dokja’s eyebrows rose. What good would his name do them? If they wanted to guard against potential monsters, they could go ahead, but what, did they want to stop humans from going in too?

Maybe the guy noticed he had asked a stupid question. He exchanged nervous looks with his companions, who looked just as uncertain as him.

Someone swept through the group like a hot knife through butter.

“Kim Dokja,” Yoo Joonghyuk growled.

His eyes glinted with malice. He didn’t look like he had gone through multiple fights. His clothes were devoid of any rip or blood stain, but his aura alone made it clear that he wasn’t to be trifled with. Kim Dokja skipped the last few stairs and took the Monkey’s Lungs out of his mouth.

“Hey, were you waiting long?” he said in a cheery voice.

The other men looked at him like he was crazy. Yoo Joonghyuk caught his arm and hauled him closer.

“Where were you?” he snarled.

“What,” Kim Dokja said, dropping his smile. “Were you expecting me to tuck myself somewhere safe and wait for you? I’m not some trinket you can put down whenever you want, Yoo Joonghyuk. You’ve got your plans, fine. I’ve got mine.”

Yoo Joonghyuk’s grip tightened to the point it started to hurt, even with his high Stamina stat.

“You’re late.”

“We hadn’t set a meeting time, did we?”

“You missed the end of the scenario.”

“I was fine,” Kim Dokja said, holding up the Monkey’s Lungs as proof.

“I didn’t know that!” Yoo Joonghyuk shouted suddenly.

Kim Dokja shut up, taken aback.

“I didn’t know,” Yoo Joonghyuk repeated, only a little more quietly. “And nobody knew where you had gone.”

Now his arm really hurt. Kim Dokja didn’t mention it. Yoo Joonghyuk’s eyes were actually a little scary.

Kim Dokja found himself looking down. His heart was beating a strange rhythm in his chest.

“Sorry,” he said, and the remorse tasted alien on his tongue. “I… didn’t mean to worry you.”

Yoo Joonghyuk let go of his arm like it was dirty laundry. His jaw worked. Kim Dokja could see him working himself up to deny having worried at all. In the end, Yoo Joonghyuk just turned on his heels.

Kim Dokja followed after him, leaving the three mediocre guards behind. They reached the subway platform in silence.

Dozens of people had gathered here. Lee Hyunsung, Kim Namwoon, Yoo Sangah and Lee Gilyoung had set up some distance from everyone else. They perked up at Kim Dokja and Yoo Joonghyuk’s arrival.

“Kim Dokja-ssi! You’re alright!”

Lee Gilyoung ran up to him and threw his arms around his waist.

“Sorry I’m late, everyone.” Kim Dokja looked around. “Where’s Han Myungoh-ssi?”

Looking sheepish, Lee Hyunsung nodded at the other end of the platform. A group of men had gathered together. Han Myungoh was among them. He sent a dark glance Kim Dokja’s way, then pointedly turned his back on them.

“Bootlicker,” Kim Namwoon snorted.

Kim Dokja was less interested in Han Myungoh than in the young man at the heart of the group. He was the one talking the most, and whatever he was saying seemed to make sense to the others, because they were listening with rapt attention. Kim Dokja used Character List on him.

Cheon Inho. Hmm… Wasn’t there a character with this name in Ways of Survival? Kim Dokja couldn’t quite remember all the minor villains from the early scenarios, but he thought that it would probably be bad to let that guy do as he wanted.

“You haven’t started putting some order into the station?” he asked Yoo Joonghyuk.

Yoo Joonghyuk glared at him.

“I have other priorities right now,” he growled.

Come to think of it… Yes, this regression turn was a bit different from others, wasn’t it?

“I guess we should talk,” Kim Dokja conceded.

Now that the humans had been herded where the Star Stream wanted them, the scenarios would take a break for the night. There was no sense in trying to wrangle exciting stories from exhausted and shell-shocked incarnations. This was as good a moment as any to regroup and address the many issues Yoo Joonghyuk and he had hanging between them.

“Everyone, you should eat something and try to sleep,” Kim Dokja told the group. “For now, we should be safe for the night.”

As he untangled himself from Lee Gilyoung’s grip, Yoo Sangah came up to him.

“Ah, Dokja-ssi! I got this for you while we were out gathering supplies.”

She held up a black button-up shirt. It was obviously new. Kim Dokja was a bit surprised that she had adapted easily enough to their circumstances to take non-essential supplies without paying.

Although maybe she had left money on a store counter somewhere. He wouldn’t put it past Yoo Sangah.

“I guessed at your size, so I’m sorry if it doesn’t fit too well,” she added with a self-deprecating smile.

“Not at all. Thank you, Yoo Sangah-ssi, that was very thoughtful of you.”

Her smile became more sincere.

Yoo Joonghyuk was practically breathing down his neck. Kim Dokja let himself get herded behind a pillar.

“Do you mind?” Kim Dokja said, holding up the shirt with a bit of annoyance.

Yoo Joonghyuk took the shirt. Before Kim Dokja could protest, Yoo Joonghyuk undid his jacket buttons and tugged the garment from Kim Dokja’s shoulders. Both new shirt and old jacket were draped over one thick forearm. Then Yoo Joonghyuk held up an expectant hand.

Kim Dokja’s brain fizzled out. It was one thing to meet his hero, and another to see him act as a glorified clothes hanger for him. He looked away with warm cheeks.

“I could have handled this,” he muttered as he pulled his ruined shirt out of his waistband.

Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t answer. Kim Dokja didn’t need to look at him to know his eyes were on the chest he was baring. Kim Dokja refused to glance down at his birthmark.

Ugh, peeping constellations. Just what he needed.

Shirts were exchanged. Kim Dokja slid into the new one with a roll of his shoulders. He tugged the collar straight, then started closing the buttons. Feeling a little less vulnerable, he dared to face Yoo Joonghyuk. As expected, the man was staring down. He was unrepentant at being caught. Kim Dokja bit his tongue to hold back a “my eyes are up here” that might have come out too high-pitched for proper sarcastic effect.

“That woman,” Yoo Joonghyuk said.

“Hmm? Who, Yoo Sangah?”

“You two are familiar.”

Kim Dokja’s soul mark disappeared behind fabric. Yoo Joonghyuk finally deigned to meet his eyes.

“We’re work colleagues,” Kim Dokja said.

Yoo Joonghyuk’s brow creased in confusion.

“Colleagues,” he repeated.

“Yes.”

“That distasteful man. He was your colleague too?”

“Han Myungoh-ssi? Yes. Why, what’s wrong?”

Yoo Joonghyuk looked away. Maybe he was embarrassed by what he muttered next.

“It feels like you sprang up fully formed from nowhere.”

Kim Dokja nearly laughed. But from Yoo Joonghyuk’s point of view, he wasn’t exactly wrong.

“Well, I had a job. A pretty crappy job, but still a job. And a studio in Hongje-dong, and too many bills…”

“What kind of job?” Yoo Joonghyuk cut in.

Kim Dokja went silent, a bit surprised by his eagerness. He hadn’t often read about Yoo Joonghyuk expressing such a strangely innocent curiosity on something that didn’t pertain to the scenarios. It was his turn to feel embarrassed.

“I was a contractor for some no-good video game company. Probably not even you have heard of it, mister pro gamer.”

He wouldn’t have, since Yoo Joonghyuk hadn’t lived in the real world.

“Video games,” Yoo Joonghyuk said, stepping closer.

He was so close he was looming, but there was a light in his eyes that brought a helpless smile to Kim Dokja’s lips. Why was this ruthless regressor making him think of a puppy? Had his wires gotten crossed somewhere?

“Yes.”

“You like video games?”

“Hmm… Not that much, to be honest. I prefer reading.”

Yoo Joonghyuk eased up on the leaning. He looked pensive.

“Fiction novels?”

“That’s right.”

Yoo Joonghyuk was silent for a moment.

“That explains your skills.”

Yoo Joonghyuk impatiently waved away the sudden barrage of constellation messages. Kim Dokja paid them more attention.

Ah. As expected… He glanced at a more inconspicuous window in the corner of his vision.

The message nearly looked forlorn. Despite ‘One Half of a Whole’ interfering with it at every turn, this skill was still here.

“I think congratulations are in order, Yoo Joonghyuk,” Kim Dokja said.

“What?”

“You might be the only person in the world who can access my Attribute Window right now.”

Not even Bihyung had been able to open the damn thing for Kim Dokja.

“What?” Yoo Joonghyuk said, shocked.

He gave a more thorough look to the messages.

“No one? Wait…” He threw a queer look to Kim Dokja. “The only person in the world?”

“Oh, yeah. I can’t open it either,” he said breezily. “I have that dokkaebi looking into it. It’s probably a bug.”

It was better to let the constellations think so, anyway. Of course, at this point Kim Dokja had a very different theory about what was going on. The strange dichotomy in his vision hadn’t faded since the bridge. Yoo Joonghyuk still looked more vibrant somehow, closer, like Kim Dokja could touch him and feel skin while the rest of the world felt distant. His emotions were also closer to the surface around Yoo Joonghyuk.

He had never heard of a skill called Fourth Wall. But it seemed to be pulling a lot of weight in the background of Kim Dokja’s mind. It was probably thanks to it that he had never panicked, not even when zombies had been about to tear him apart. If it hadn’t been for its constant conflict with One Half of a Whole, Kim Dokja might not even have noticed.

The Fourth Wall didn’t work on Yoo Joonghyuk; Yoo Joonghyuk was the only one who could access his Attribute Window. The conclusion was clear. But why was the Fourth Wall hiding the window even from Kim Dokja?

“In the meantime, do you mind giving me a rundown?” he said. “What’s my personal attribute, anyway?”

Yoo Joonghyuk’s jaw was tight. He looked tense, disproportionately so for this conversation. It wasn’t such a problem for Kim Dokja not to have access, so why…

Yoo Joonghyuk did not believe that this was a bug either.

Strange. What had he read on Kim Dokja’s profile to make him think so? It was unlikely that he suspected the Fourth Wall. The Eye of the Sage only gave the name of skills, not a description, and he didn’t have access to the clues Kim Dokja did. So what else had he seen?

“Yoo Joonghyuk?” Kim Dokja prompted when the silence stretched on for too long.

The constellations were getting impatient. A little suspense was good, but too much and they would become suspicious.

Yoo Joonghyuk glanced away. His jaw worked.

“Scenario Interpreter,” he finally grunted. “That’s your attribute.”

Kim Dokja’s eyebrows rose. He looked carefully at Yoo Joonghyuk. He didn’t seem to be lying. This was too strange an attribute for him to have made it up. So why did Kim Dokja feel like he was holding something back?

Well, if Yoo Joonghyuk was hiding something, it had to be important. It might be best if the constellations didn’t hear whatever it was. There would be time later to get the truth out of him, or to find a way to access his Attribute Window himself.

“Scenario Interpreter, hmm,” he said. “I expected something to do with reading, honestly.”

“Your skills,” Yoo Joonghyuk said shortly.

“Yes, you mentioned that. What are they?”

“You don’t know your own skills?” Yoo Joonghyuk said with contempt.

“A few activated on their own. I just want to know if I’m missing any.”

Yoo Joonghyuk glared at him. He hated being used as some kind of walking encyclopedia. Kim Dokja didn’t really expect him to answer. To his surprise, however, Yoo Joonghyuk’s right eye shone gold.

“Fourth Wall, Character List, Bookmark, Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint…”

Listening to that list delivered in a monotone, Kim Dokja felt a strange discomfort. The common theme was even more glaring than he had realized. Hearing it from the mouth of Yoo Joonghyuk of all people was giving him cold sweat. He made to interrupt, but Yoo Joonghyuk finished:

“… Reading Comprehension.”

Kim Dokja blinked.

“Reading Comprehension?”

Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint had tried to activate on the bridge while he was fighting the zombies, he remembered. He wasn’t too clear on what it did yet, but he had seen it. Reading Comprehension, though? He didn’t know this one. What did it do? Was it the skill that allowed him to speed-read when he wanted to check something in Ways of Survival? No… the system messages said that was due to his attribute.

“It’s marked as locked,” Yoo Joonghyuk said.

“Locked?”

Curiouser and curiouser. What would it take to unlock it, then?

“That’s a long list for an incarnation at the start of the scenarios. And those skills are unusual.”

“I guess,” Kim Dokja said, distracted.

“Is your attribute the reason why you know so much?”

Kim Dokja stopped. He looked up. Yoo Joonghyuk’s eyes, a deep black once more, bored in him. It was like he believed he could read Kim Dokja’s mind if he just focused hard enough.

Who knows, with One Half of a Whole, he might even be right. The thought gave Kim Dokja goosebumps.

“But it can’t be the only reason,” Yoo Joonghyuk said. “It’s natural if Scenario Interpreter lets you know about scenarios. But you know so much about rare skills. And you have already figured out how to use the Dokkaebi Bag.”

The Ellain Monkey’s Lungs was a dead giveaway of that one, true. The Dokkaebi Bag was the one thing that Kim Dokja had gained from his conversation with Bihyung. As for the streaming contract he wanted, he would have to find a way to impress the dokkaebi for that. He had a few ideas.

How to answer Yoo Joonghyuk, though?

He was really too careless when speaking to this guy, huh? It was too hard to pretend that he knew less than he did. Certainly, Kim Dokja knew how to play clueless (a skill he had long honed at work), but he didn’t want to do that to Yoo Joonghyuk. This man was surrounded by people who couldn’t understand him because of his regressions. Kim Dokja didn’t want the soulmate he had waited for for so long to be more of the same.

But how was he supposed to walk the line between disappointing and suspicious?

“Tell me something first,” he said.

Yoo Joonghyuk’s face turned threatening at the obvious evasion. Kim Dokja didn’t let that stop him.

“Yoo Joonghyuk, which regression turn is this?”

If he knew how much information Yoo Joonghyuk was working with, maybe he could cobble together some explanation.

Yoo Joonghyuk’s expression wavered.

“You really know about the regressions,” he whispered.

“Kim Dokja, you…”

Yoo Joonghyuk cut himself off. His eyes widened. He stared into the void.

Kim Dokja frowned.

“Yoo Joonghyuk?”

Yoo Joonghyuk staggered.

“Yoo Joonghyuk!”

Kim Dokja hastily invested and caught the regressor around the waist. Yoo Joonghyuk was clutching at his head.

“How? I can’t… remember.”

“What? Yoo Joonghyuk, what’s happening?”

The man looked at him with distraught eyes.

“I can’t remember what turn this is.”

“You what?”

Kim Dokja let them both slide to a sitting position at the bottom of the tiled pillar. Yoo Joonghyuk was shaking. Kim Dokja had no idea what was going on.

“What’s the last death you remember?” he asked, which seemed to him a fairly sensible question.

“I don’t know!” Yoo Joonghyuk shouted.

A few people on the platform woke with a start. Lee Hyunsung peered around the pillar with a worried frown. Kim Dokja moved to hide Yoo Joonghyuk from sight.

“Yoo Joonghyuk, you have to calm down.”

Kim Dokja would have given a lot for the Fourth Wall to be effective right now. His heart was hammering in his chest. When he had been reading Ways of Survival, Yoo Joonghyuk had always been a rock to him. There had been moments when Yoo Joonghyuk had lost it, of course, moments when he had been afraid or when he had given in to anger or to the regression depression. But there was nothing good about seeing it happen with his own two eyes, especially not when this event was something that Kim Dokja knew nothing about.

Yoo Joonghyuk’s memories were his best weapon. There had been one round, the five hundred and third, in which he had been beset by amnesia. It had been a cluster fuck. It was no wonder he was so scared.

“Calm down,” Kim Dokja insisted. “It’s okay, we can figure this out. You still have plenty of memories, don’t you? You didn’t even notice until now.”

Yoo Joonghyuk’s hands were buried in his thick hair.

“I can’t remember any full round.”

He wasn’t shouting any more, but his choked whisper wasn’t an improvement. Kim Dokja gave in and closed his arms around him. He drew Yoo Joonghyuk’s head against his chest.

“So something is interfering with your memories,” he said, careful to sound reasonable, to not let his voice shake. “We’ll find out what it is. And then we’ll solve it. You’ve faced a lot of problems before, Yoo Joonghyuk. It’s just one more… and you’re not alone, this time. I’ll help.”

Yoo Joonghyuk’s hands found Kim Dokja’s arms.

“I’m missing too many,” he said.

“I can fill in the blanks.”

The words escaped his mouth before he could think better of them. Yoo Joonghyuk drew back to look at him. His eyes were deeply suspicious. Kim Dokja still hadn’t given a straight answer to his earlier question.

“Kim Dokja… are my missing memories with you?”

“What?” Kim Dokja said, startled.

“Did One Half of a Whole transfer part of my memories somehow?”

There were so many things wrong with that theory. Kim Dokja didn’t owe his knowledge to an attribute, but to a book. Explaining this, however, would definitely make things worse.

“That can’t be,” he said. “There are things we both know. I know you went to Maebong Mountain Park to look for one of the components of the Sky Shaker Sword.”

Yoo Joonghyuk’s eyes shook. Kim Dokja reading him so easily was obviously having an impact on him, but it didn’t seem to be anger.

“You know so much…”

Yes. From his point of view, the coincidence must really be too much. Some of his memories went missing in the very same round where he found the person he had been looking for all along. Furthermore, Kim Dokja had never read about a round where something like this happened to Yoo Joonghyuk in the early scenarios.

“Maybe it’s not a coincidence,” he admitted. “Maybe me appearing in this round in particular is linked to the reason you lost your memories.”

Yoo Joonghyuk’s mouth was a thin line in his pale face.

“You don’t know why you appeared in this round?” he said.

“No.”

Kim Dokja gave a bitter smile. Paranoid guy. In Yoo Joonghyuk’s defense, he glanced away, looking uncomfortable.

“I don’t even know which round this is, remember?” Kim Dokja said.

Yoo Joonghyuk frowned. He had always kept a careful note of the regression numbers. This had to be a source of anxiety for him too.

With a sudden clank, the overhead lights turned off. Kim Dokja jumped, reflexively clutching at Yoo Joonghyuk. Startled cries rose, soon silenced by a voice.

“It’s alright, everyone! Everything is fine. Bang Cheolsoo-ssi has figured out how to turn the lights off for the night. Now we’ll be able to sleep properly. Thank you, Bang Cheolsoo-ssi.”

In the dimmer light from the ad panels, the man named Bang Cheolsoo regally nodded at Cheon Inho’s shiny smile.

“We’ll turn the lights back on tomorrow morning,” Cheon Inho added, addressing the station inhabitants. “And don’t worry, some good men are watching the exits. For now, just rest. We can discuss the situation in the morning.”

The survivors settled down, reassured. Kim Dokja watched Cheon Inho. That man was already seizing control of the station. Most people here were only too happy to have someone telling them what to do.

“You should sleep,” Yoo Joonghyuk said.

From the look on his face, he had no intention of following his own advice. Perhaps he would spend the night trying to make sense of his missing memories.

After a beat, Kim Dokja said:

“Yeah, alright.”

He thought about going back to the group, but there was little reason to bother. One patch of dirty tiles was just as good as the next. He balled up his damaged shirt for a pillow and lay down under his suit jacket. The floor was cold, but having raised his Stamina made him less sensitive to the discomfort. He turned his back to Yoo Joonghyuk and closed his eyes.

A few minutes later, he said:

“I’m not going to fall asleep if you keep staring at me.”

Yoo Joonghyuk huffed.

There was a rustle. The heat of Yoo Joonghyuk’s thigh pressed against his spine.

Kim Dokja soon slipped into a dreamless sleep.

Chapter Text

Sudden blinding light brought Kim Dokja back to the world. His grunt of protest was lost in the station’s waking rumble. He blinked the stars out of his eyes, and widened them.

During the night, it seemed he had turned around. He had stayed curled up on himself, like he was used to do, but his forehead was pressed to Yoo Joonghyuk’s hip. The folds of the man’s coat pooled beneath his neck.

He jerked to a sitting position, blushing. Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t react. He sat with his arms crossed over his chest, eyes closed. Yet Kim Dokja didn’t think he was sleeping. His frown was too severe. Was he still meditating?

Kim Dokja took the opportunity to observe him. There hadn’t been much time to reflect yesterday. Part of him still believed that Yoo Joonghyuk would fade into mist if he tried to touch him again, his warmth nothing but an illusion. How could he be here, after all those years? How could they both be here?

Shit, Yoo Joonghyuk really was handsome. What did he need shoulders this broad for?

Ah, right. Those guys were already here.

“Looking cozy, Ahjussi. If you two want to steal the men’s bathroom, at least put a sign out. I’m not looking for a free show.”

And this guy was also here. Kim Dokja got to his feet and dusted himself off. He tried to ignore Kim Namwoon’s leer, but couldn’t help noticing that, although the teenager’s expression was shooting for disgust, it fell a bit short. Was Kim Namwoon… embarrassed?

Kim Dokja stared.

“What?” Kim Namwoon said, immediately defensive. “Hey, go back to looking at your boyfriend.”

He kicked at the floor, then turned around, shoulders bowed and hands in his pockets.

Huh. Did this character have that kind of side in the novel? It was unexpectedly endearing.

“Everyone, gather around!” Cheon Inho called. “We should get organized.”

People turned eagerly in his direction. Cheon Inho stood in the middle of the platform. A few men were around him, unsubtly backing him up.

“I hope you all managed to rest a little,” he said, looking sincere. “I know these circumstances are difficult for us all, but don’t be discouraged. We’ve survived this far, and we’ll surely be rescued soon. The army will come. And we even have an influential young master with us, so we’ll definitely get help.”

“That’s right!” said Han Myungoh, puffing up his chest behind Cheon Inho’s shoulder. “My father is the chairman of the Hankyung corporation, and he will be looking for me. It’s only a matter of time!”

“You heard him!” Cheon Inho said. “We just need to stay united and take care of each other in the meantime. So, in that spirit, I’m going to ask you all to pool your resources from now on. A few of us came with some reserves of food. The men with me will pass between you to collect it and redistribute it to everyone.”

At these words, Kim Dokja hurried forward, but a man was already taking a few plastic bags from a reluctant Yoo Sangah. She noticed him coming.

“Good morning, Dokja-ssi,” she said with a wan smile. She glanced at the man walking away and lowered her voice. “We would have shared anyway. We already shared some of our food and blankets with other people yesterday. But… how do I say it…”

“It’s alright, Yoo Sangah-ssi,” he told her. “Your instincts aren’t wrong.”

Already the station’s population was splitting in two. There were the men in power and the people they held power over. The lights, the food, safety against monsters… now that Cheon Inho and his group provided all this, nobody would go against them.

Lee Gilyoung stepped to Kim Dokja’s side. He smiled at the boy.

“Morning. Did you manage to sleep?”

Lee Gilyoung nodded.

“Boring,” was Kim Namwoon’s judgment.

His eyes were on Cheon Inho and his men. Despite the somewhat childish word, there was nothing childish about the way he looked at them, or the way he thumbed at his knife’s blade. He swept a burning glare over the refugees around them.

“These idiots don’t get it at all.”

“Don’t act out, Kim Namwoon,” Lee Hyunsung sighed.

Kim Dokja expected another argument from the teenager, but Kim Namwoon only tightened his jaw. Kim Dokja watched him. Maybe there was as much despair as there was anger in his eyes. Kim Namwoon had thought he had finally escaped an unfair world, a world whose rules had never been made for someone like him. He had thought he could remake himself here, in the world of the scenarios; only to see more of the same be rebuilt. More strangers claiming authority over him, applying their unwanted law on him.

“No, Kim Namwoon is right,” Kim Dokja heard himself say.

The teenager whipped around to him, astounded. Maybe he had never heard someone say those words. Kim Dokja looked away.

“I know it’s tempting to think that help is coming,” he said. “But it’s the height of naivety. Nobody is coming for us.”

“Dokja-ssi,” Yoo Sangah said, startled.

Kim Dokja jerked his chin toward the survivors around them.

“Look at these people. Do you know what they all have in common?”

“In common?” Lee Hyunsung said, looking around.

There were nearly a hundred bodies on the subway platform. Men, women, children and the elderly… Two foreigners could even be spotted. It was a very diverse crowd.

“They all survived through the first scenario. You know what that means, right?”

Lee Hyunsung and Yoo Sangah cringed in unison. It was an obvious thing to say, but maybe they hadn’t wanted to follow that reasoning to its natural conclusion.

“Maybe a few among them cleared it like we did,” Kim Dokja continued. “But we’re in the middle of Seoul. How easily can you find insects? Or small animals? How many of them even thought of it?”

Kim Namwoon cackled, but it sounded more bitter than deranged.

“Schrödinger’s murderers,” he said.

“Whatever the case,” Kim Dokja said, “every person here has chosen to take a life to continue living. Does it make sense to then put your life in someone else’s hands? If you’re going to make that choice, you should take responsibility. That’s what I think.”

“Kim Dokja-ssi… You’re right,” Lee Hyunsung said.

No, why did he look so solemn, all of a sudden? This wasn’t a worldline in which he had had to kill anyone so far. Kim Dokja had to look away, feeling a bit lame for that sudden lecture. Lee Gilyoung’s starry eyes and Yoo Sangah’s pensive expression weren’t helping.

“Those are bold words,” said a new voice.

Kim Dokja turned in surprise. A woman stood there, close enough to have heard them. There were dark circles under her eyes, and the look on her face was grim but defiant. Her practical clothes were ripped in a few places. It was clear her journey to the station had not been peaceful.

“You are…?” Kim Dokja said, wondering if he was already going to have an argument on his hands.

“My name is Jung Heewon. Ah, don’t get me wrong. Your words make sense. That’s why I came over. But I’m wondering how you intend to follow through on them.”

“Yeah, Ahjussi,” Kim Namwoon piped up. “What are you going to do? You’re not going to hang around this place full of losers, right?”

“But isn’t there safety in numbers?” Lee Hyunsung said, rubbing the back of his head. “Isn’t it better to stay around people?”

“A small group is good,” Kim Dokja agreed. “But there are too many people in this station. Most of them have already decided to be passive. It’s better to find a party of people you trust to have the same priorities as you.”

“You talk like there are things we should be doing rather than waiting, Dokja-ssi,” Yoo Sangah said. “But what can we do in this situation?”

Five curious faces were turned to him. Kim Dokja deliberated. He threw a glance over his shoulder, but Yoo Joonghyuk’s eyes were still closed.

“The key here is the scenarios,” he said.

“Those things,” Jung Heewon said, her face darkening.

Kim Dokja nodded.

“You’ve seen what happened yesterday,” he said. “Whether we like it or not, the scenarios are going to continue. They can be hard, but finishing them nets you rewards. And in any video game, the more the story progresses, the harder the scenarios get.”

“So we need to level up,” Kim Namwoon concluded.

Lee Gilyoung, Lee Hyunsung, Yoo Sangah and Jung Heewon nodded in understanding. Anyone in South Korea was at least passingly familiar with video game mechanisms.

“I suppose I can get behind that,” Jung Heewon said. “But how do we level up? How do we find scenarios, or rewards?”

“My attribute can help,” Kim Dokja said.

“Oh, is that how you knew about the bridge yesterday?” Yoo Sangah said in surprise.

Jung Heewon was an unknown quantity, and he didn’t want his attribute to be common knowledge yet. It might become a bother if everyone in the station started expecting him to lead them by the hand. So he just nodded and kept the details to himself.

“Yoo Joonghyuk also knows a lot,” he added.

“Yoo Joonghyuk?” Jung Heewon asked.

He pointed to the comatose man.

“I’m Kim Dokja,” he added.

A round of introductions started between the rest of the group. Jung Heewon appeared to be a friendly person, though the trauma of the day before lingered on her and made her a bit sharp. It didn’t seem like she had come with anyone else to the station.

“Do you guys mind if I come with?” she said.

Interestingly, she was looking at Yoo Sangah as she asked. Even more interestingly, Yoo Sangah’s answering smile was warm.

It took Kim Dokja a long second to realize that being a woman alone, or alone in a group of men, might not be a comfortable situation in the middle of the apocalypse. He scratched at his head, embarrassed.

“Aah… Well, if you want to, I have no objection, Jung Heewon-ssi,” he said.

Yoo Joonghyuk would just have to deal with their group getting even bigger. He could always ditch them if it displeased him. Besides, there was no telling how many of them would survive the first few scenarios.

Kim Dokja wouldn’t have agreed if he thought she would be a burden, anyway. But there was a strong-willed energy around her, and he had already checked her character profile. That Crouching Figure attribute could turn out to be a boon, depending on which direction she evolved in. And Demon Slaying was a good skill.

“Excuse me.”

A new person had come up to them. Kim Dokja turned, but the face that greeted him was less welcome than Jung Heewon’s. Cheon Inho smiled at them.

“I apologize for interrupting. There was no time for introductions yesterday. My name is Cheon Inho. I was hoping to talk to Lee Hyunsung-ssi? Ah, Kim Dokja-ssi also, if you don’t mind.”

Han Myungoh lingered in the background, glaring nervously this way. It must have been him who gave Cheon Inho their names.

“The rest of you should line up with everyone for food,” Cheon Inho added. “Aren’t you hungry?”

As if on cue, Lee Gilyoung’s stomach growled. Yet he didn’t move, only looking up at Kim Dokja. Kim Dokja nodded in permission, sending the group along. Kim Namwoon sniffed in contempt as he passed Cheon Inho. His glare on the man was venomous. It was obvious that Cheon Inho was only taking aside adult men. It was just as obvious why. His little gang had grown since the previous evening.

Kim Dokja let him spin his spiel. Their responsibility as men was to protect and care for everyone in the station. In exchange they would get extra food and better access to amenities. Left unsaid but hinted at was the possibility of further services in nature if the situation lingered. After all, the refugees would be so grateful.

Without surprise, Cheon Inho was mainly speaking to Lee Hyunsung. Han Myungoh must have also told him that he was a soldier, because he was laying it on rather thick with marks of respect and appeals to patriotic pride. But Cheon Inho was a smart one, and it didn’t take him long to notice that Lee Hyunsung spent more time gauging Kim Dokja’s expression than looking at him.

“That woman with you is very beautiful,” Cheon Inho told Kim Dokja, switching target. “Are you friends? She must be relying on you to keep her safe.”

“I don’t think Yoo Sangah-ssi does,” Kim Dokja demurred.

Cheon Inho’s smile twitched. That dog Han Myungoh… Kim Dokja could guess at the kind of things he had run his mouth about if Cheon Inho expected Kim Dokja to fold so easily. Yoo Sangah was beautiful, but not everyone in the company was as obsessed with putting her in their bed as the department head, okay?

Anyway, it was getting rather pathetic to watch Cheon Inho repeatedly hit the wall of their indifference, so Kim Dokja decided to put him out of his misery.

“This is an interesting proposal, Cheon Inho-ssi, but we’ll have to decline.”

The man didn’t stop smiling, but a strong chill slipped into his demeanor. He took a step closer.

“Are you sure about your decision? You may come to regret it later.”

“I’m sure.”

“Maybe we should ask your third companion. He may have a different take on the matter.”

“Do you mean Yoo Joonghyuk?” Kim Dokja’s eyes went over his head. “Well, you can ask him.”

An oppressive aura bloomed behind Cheon Inho. The man startled and jerked around. Yoo Joonghyuk’s glare was murderous.

“Get away from him,” he said in a voice like gravel.

“Ah… I was just…”

When Cheon Inho didn’t move fast enough for his tastes, Yoo Joonghyuk closed one hand around his collar and bodily flung him away. Cheon Inho tripped on his landing and nearly fell flat on his face. Half the station’s population turned to look with wide eyes.

“What terrible manners…!” Cheon Inho started to shout, red-faced with anger.

But one look at Yoo Joonghyuk shut him up. Everything in Yoo Joonghyuk’s body language said that he wouldn’t be playing the polite game with him. He wouldn’t play nice with anyone on this station, he would make no effort to avoid waves, and if anyone tried to take issue with him over it, retaliation would be swift and merciless.

Everyone who had watched the scene turned away in haste. Even Cheon Inho, grinding his teeth, hurried away to his nervous cronies. In a handful of seconds, it had become clear that there was another rung on the station’s food chain.

Yoo Joonghyuk wasn’t a wolf among sheep. He was a god among ants.

“Good morning,” Kim Dokja said with a calm smile.

Really, this guy was so ridiculously cool.

Yoo Joonghyuk turned a gimlet eye on him. Lee Hyunsung had backed up three whole feet, as if standing too close to Kim Dokja would get him tossed away like a potato sack too.

“What were you doing talking to that trash?” Yoo Joonghyuk said.

“Since someone neglected to take the trash out, we have to deal with the smell, don’t we?”

Yoo Joonghyuk’s brow lowered all the more. He looked in Cheon Inho’s direction. Was he thinking of taking care of it now? It would get messy. It was too late to prevent Cheon Inho from getting a foot in the door, but too early for the other refugees to have gotten used to the end of the world. They would panic if they lost now what little order they had regained.

“Let’s just get out of here,” Yoo Joonghyuk said.

Kim Dokja fought not to roll his eyes. Definitely not one of the most compassionate regression turns.

“Don’t be so hasty. There is still something I want to do in the area. You don’t have to move for a few more days, do you?”

Yoo Joonghyuk squinted at him in consideration. But Kim Dokja knew that Lee Jihye could wait for a bit.

“There is nothing interesting in the area,” Yoo Joonghyuk said.

“Oh, did you remember everything, then?”

The barb was a bit mean. From Yoo Joonghyuk’s sour expression, it hit the mark. If one night of meditation had been enough to remedy the problem, Yoo Joonghyuk wouldn’t have spiralled in terror in the first place.

“I remembered some,” he grumbled.

“That’s good,” Kim Dokja told him sincerely. “Still no number?”

“I remember the first and the second in full. The rest is…”

Yoo Joonghyuk’s shrug was impatient.

Hmm… So, this was a regression turn somewhere after the third, but he might not have more information than when he was in the third. Kim Dokja could work with that.

“Alright. Well, Yoo Joonghyuk…”

Kim Dokja smiled.

“How about lending me your strength for today? I’ll make it worth your while.”

“Sorry,” Yoo Sangah told them when the group came back with their meager breakfasts. “They wouldn’t let us take shares for you three.”

“Oh, that’s okay!” Lee Hyunsung said to her. “We can just go line up too.”

Or not, Kim Dokja thought with a pensive gaze to Cheon Inho’s goons handling the distribution.

“We can share with you if it’s going to be a problem,” Jung Heewon unexpectedly cut in.

Kim Dokja glanced at her, surprised by her insight. She must have seen the argument happening.

“That’s generous of you to propose, Jung Heewon-ssi.”

“Most of the food came from your group anyway. It’s not fair if you’re the only ones not eating.”

Lee Gilyoung thrust a chocolate bar at Kim Dokja. He smiled in thanks and patted the boy’s head.

“I’m fine. You eat.”

He could have done worse than these last-minute companions, all things considered. Even Jung Heewon might prove to be an interesting addition if her attitude so far was to be believed.

Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t seem to agree.

“Who are you?” he said, glaring at the woman.

Jung Heewon glared right back.

“What are you being so rude for?”

Yoo Joonghyuk transferred his bad mood to Kim Dokja.

“Stop dragging along all the dregs you find.”

“Hey!” Jung Heewon said.

“It’s none of your business what I do,” Kim Dokja retorted. “You’ve got Lee Hyunsung and Kim Namwoon. Let me take care of the others.”

“You should be bringing yourself up before you think about shoring up others.”

“Which is precisely why we’re going out today. Then we’ll see who are dregs and who are not, won’t we?”

Yoo Joonghyuk glowered some more, then strode away.

“What an ass!” Jung Heewon exclaimed. “He may be strong, but I doubt it’s worth tolerating that shitty personality!”

“No, it’s definitely worth it,” Kim Dokja disagreed. “In this world, strength is essential. It’s important to know when to make alliances, even when you may not like the other person. Besides, you could do much worse than Yoo Joonghyuk. He may be abrasive, but he is a good person when it comes down to it.”

Or at least, he amended for himself, though this wasn’t one of Yoo Joonghyuk’s best rounds, it didn’t look like it was one where he was a murderous madman either.

“How do you know?” Jung Heewon said in disbelief. “Have you known him long? Is he holding you at gunpoint to say that?”

“Ah, Jung Heewon-ssi…” Lee Hyunsung cut in, looking flustered.

He leaned his bulk down to whisper something in her ear. Kim Dokja got a bad feeling. Jung Heewon’s eyes widened.

“Oh,” she said. “Oh, huh… Geez. Sorry, Kim Dokja-ssi.”

“It’s fine,” he said, smiling blandly.

Lee Hyunsung had told her that Yoo Joonghyuk was his soulmate, hadn’t he? Kim Dokja should just be grateful that he hadn’t said it aloud in front of Yoo Sangah and Lee Gilyoung. He didn’t want to have to manage their confusion.

“What’s with the sneakiness?” Kim Namwoon cut in, unimpressed. “Are we in kindergarten? You can’t say the word out loud, Soldier Man?”

Kim Namwoon, ugh!

“Moving on,” Kim Dokja said, steamrolling right over Lee Hyunsung’s embarrassed splutter. “Are you all done eating?”

Kim Namwoon splayed his empty hands with a mocking grin.

“Are you sure you don’t want some of mine, Dokja-ssi?” Yoo Sangah said.

“No, thank you. We should be able to find food where we’re going, anyway.”

“That’s right, you said something about going out,” Jung Heewon said, biting into her sandwich. “Are we leveling up, then?”

“That’s the plan. Of course, nobody has to come with if they don’t want to. It’ll be dangerous.”

Kim Namwoon rolled his eyes.

“Whatever, Ahjussi.”

He walked away in the direction Yoo Joonghyuk had taken. Lee Hyunsung followed with the strange eagerness of someone looking to make himself useful. Jung Heewon smiled.

“You already made your case, Kim Dokja-ssi.”

Yoo Sangah nodded in agreement.

“Gilyoung?” Kim Dokja checked.

The boy just bobbed his head, resolute.

“Then let’s get going.”

Eyes followed them as they crossed the station toward the exit corridors, but nobody talked to them. In the halls outside, a commotion was happening. One of Cheon Inho’s men lay unconscious on the ground. Three others bristled and shouted, but didn’t dare approach Yoo Joonghyuk, who was raiding the emergency gas masks cabinet without a care in the world.

Cheon Inho approached with a bigger group of men, most of them armed.

“Please understand that we can’t let you do that, Yoo Joonghyuk-nim,” he said.

His smile was tight, but Kim Dokja had to grant him points for bravery.

“If you want to leave, we won’t stop you. But those masks have to stay here. If the poisonous fog doesn’t lift, we will need them to go seek supplies outside. Would you condemn everyone here to starve? Some of the refugees are already poisoned.”

The look Yoo Joonghyuk leveled on him was contemptuous. If he wanted to take the masks, not even this crowd would be able to stop him, especially with Lee Hyunsung and Kim Namwoon at his back.

Kim Dokja slipped by Lee Hyunsung’s shoulder to join him.

“It’s alright, Yoo Joonghyuk. We can make do without the masks.”

The man squinted at him, doubtful.

“I have a plan. I just need to get us a ride… How about it?” Kim Dokja added toward Cheon Inho. “You let us take one gas mask.”

“Two,” Yoo Joonghyuk said. “I’m coming with you.”

His suspicious look was heavy. Kim Dokja rolled his eyes.

“Fine, two. Cheon Inho-ssi, two masks and you get rid of all of us until tomorrow. Isn’t that a good deal?”

Cheon Inho considered them with keen eyes.

“Well, it’s your right to come and go as you please… You’re not prisoners,” he simpered. “You’re coming back, then?”

“Probably. We’ll bring back food if we do.”

“That would be welcome. But I do wonder at what you hope to find out there. Isn’t it dangerous? You’re taking two women and a kid with you too. You should leave them here, they would be safer.”

Jung Heewon bristled.

Trying to force them to come back? Maybe Cheon Inho thought that his gang would be able to steal from them whatever they were going out to find. He was a greedy man if he believed that the potential gain was worth the risk.

“Thank you for your concern! We’ll be fine,” Kim Dokja beamed.

He led the way to the stairs, mask in hand. Cheon Inho and his men lingered behind, curious despite themselves.

“Wait here a few minutes,” Kim Dokja told his companions. “It shouldn’t take too long.”

He put on his gas mask and climbed up. Yoo Joonghyuk followed his lead. Outside, the air was an ominous shade of purple. The ground shook with the occasional tread of a nearby monster.

“What are you going to do?” Yoo Joonghyuk said.

“You’ll see.”

Kim Dokja wandered down the street, glancing this way and that. They rounded a corner. Yoo Joonghyuk leaped forward and tried to drag him back, but Kim Dokja resisted. He whistled. The Great Poisonous Rhinoceros turned its gigantic head toward them.

Yoo Joonghyuk stiffened. A 7th-grade monster was a dangerous opponent even for him at this point in the scenarios. He didn’t even have a sword yet.

The Great Poisonous Rhinoceros prepared to charge, a murderous glint in its eyes.

Kim Dokja held up the Pearl White Cloak.

The rhinoceros froze.

“You want it?” Kim Dokja shouted, shaking the minuscule outfit in the air.

As if hypnotized, the huge monster slowly came closer. A head bigger than Kim Dokja lowered itself to the ground in front of him. He solicitously slipped the flimsy blouse on one of the rhinoceros’ horns. He took advantage of the monster’s fascination with its new outfit to add the collar. The horn looked like a very strange dog. When Kim Dokja tugged on it with the leash, the Great Poisonous Rhinoceros followed in a daze.

Kim Dokja led it back the way they came with a cheeky grin at the dumbfounded Yoo Joonghyuk. When they made it back to the subway entrance, the reactions down there were much the same.

“Up you go, everyone,” he told them cheerfully.

Yoo Joonghyuk, recovered from the shock, showed the way by climbing on the lowered head and striding up the neck like he was on a catwalk. Predictably, Kim Namwoon rushed to follow with a wild laugh.

“Wicked!”

Jung Heewon went next, and Lee Hyunsung helped Yoo Sangah and Lee Gilyoung to climb. Soon all six of them were settled on the wide back. Kim Dokja heaved himself up in turn and went to sit between the ears. One tug of the leash had the rhinoceros back on its feet. The color of the air lightened as they rose in height.

“Oh!” Jung Heewon said. “The fog stays close to the ground.”

Yes? 500 coins just for this? His first impression of that Secretive Plotter guy was obviously wrong: he was loaded. Or was he trying to goad Sun Wukong for some reason? Whatever the case, Kim Dokja wouldn’t complain.

“The Rhinoceroses are the origin of the fog,” Kim Dokja narrated gamely. “That’s why we want to stay above their butts’ level.”

The group’s eyes went to their mount’s rump. The monster chose this moment to let loose a fart. A cloud of visibly poisonous gas bloomed around its tail.

“Eww,” Jung Heewon said, appalled, while Kim Namwoon guffawed.

Yoo Joonghyuk came back up the Rhinoceros’ neck. That showoff didn’t even seem bothered by the awkward rolling caused by the monster’s gait, nor did he make any attempt to sit. He just stood there, arms crossed, looming over Kim Dokja. His mask hung at his waist. Kim Dokja took his off.

“So?” he needled him. “Did you know about this piece?”

“… Don’t brag,” Yoo Joonghyuk grumbled.

Kim Dokja made little effort to hide his smile.

“Where are we going?” Yoo Joonghyuk said.

“Up.”

“… Up.”

“A good vantage point is crucial to gauge a new situation, wouldn’t you say?”

Yoo Joonghyuk’s look said that he didn’t believe a single word coming out of his mouth, but that was alright. They both knew that Kim Dokja had a particular scenario in mind. But it wouldn’t pay to say that aloud. Constellations liked a little mystery.

They reflexively met eyes.

“…”

“…”

Yoo Joonghyuk frowned and looked away.

“You worry about things like that too much,” he said, dissatisfied.

“No, I have to worry about things like that. I can’t brute-force my way through this like you do.”

Yoo Joonghyuk snorted.

“Are you just going to keep stockpiling coins?” he said with contempt.

“Ah, that’s right.”

Kim Dokja turned to address the group behind them.

“Everyone, if you’ve got coins to spare, you should put them in stats now. Things might get dangerous soon.”

Blue system windows opened. As he guided the Great Poisonous Rhinoceros through sloping streets, Kim Dokja followed his own advice.

He’d leave Mana aside for now since he had no use for magic power.

“… Is it the Namsan Mountain?” Yoo Joonghyuk said a few minutes later.

The Rhinoceros was coming in view of the National Theater. To the left, a path opened toward the Namsan Mountain Park. The rhinoceros ponderously veered into it.

“Are we going to the Namsan Tower?” Jung Heewon teased. “I always wanted to visit, but there are so many tourists during the weekends.”

“You haven’t been?” Lee Hyunsung said in surprise.

“Isn’t it always like that? The famous places right next to home are the places you visit the least, right?”

“I guess today is your chance, then,” Kim Dokja said, smiling.

They stared in shock.

“Wait, for real? I was joking!”

“The Namsan Tower is the highest point in Seoul,” he said.

Perched on one of Seoul’s eight mountains, the tower was a radio tower replete with restaurants, picture spots and tourist attractions. There was even a cable car going up to it, but it was on the other side of the mountain from them. Kim Dokja was a bit disappointed. He had never been up either, and the cable car was famous for its view.

There was a small ripping sound. A tremor shook their mount.

“Time to get off, everyone!” Kim Dokja shouted.

A bloodthirsty light appeared in the Great Poisonous Rhinoceros’ eyes.

Chapter Text

The suddenness of Kim Dokja’s alarm call caused the group to freeze. Yoo Joonghyuk alone reacted instantly, catching Lee Gilyoung by the collar and jumping the fifteen feet to the ground. Kim Namwoon followed at once.

“I can’t jump that!” screeched Jung Heewon, just as golden threads appeared around Yoo Sangah and allowed her to rappel down the Great Poisonous Rhinoceros’ flank without damage.

Kim Dokja glanced at Yoo Sangah, surprised by that unknown skill.

“Excuse me…” Lee Hyunsung said, and despite his obvious fluster, grabbed Jung Heewon without waiting for an answer and jumped himself. He stumbled on the landing.

“Kim Dokja!” Yoo Joonghyuk shouted.

Kim Dokja was the only one left up there. His eyes were on the Pearl White Cloak. A rip had appeared in the garment. It widened as he watched.

“Get away!” he said. “It’s going to get aggressive as soon as the item…”

There was a screech like nails on a blackboard. Cracks appeared in the horn the Pearl White Cloak was fitted around.

The Rhinoceros ‘Undomitable Will’ Attribute had detected a threat and was getting rid of it. The cracks in the horn spread rapidly until, with a sudden snapping sound, the horn broke off at its base. The Pearl White Cloak went flying. The Great Rhinoceros bellowed in rage and tossed its head.

“Kim Dokja!” Yoo Joonghyuk yelled again.

But Kim Dokja was already sliding down the monster’s nose. He threw himself bodily around the second horn and managed to catch the flying broken horn. Whirling around, he stabbed it with all his strength into the Rhinoceros’ small and mean dark eye.

Blood sprayed him. The monster’s howl was deafening.

The Rhinoceros collapsed to its knees. Kim Dokja’s grip failed and he went flying.

He hit something hard but warm. Arms closed around him. The strength of Kim Dokja’s momentum threw him and the person behind him into the nearest tree.

The trunk groaned and slowly broke in two. Twigs and leaves rained down on him. Kim Dokja caught his breath and glanced behind his shoulder. Yoo Joonghyuk met his eyes in disbelief. Blood trickled from his hairline.

“… Thanks for the catch,” Kim Dokja said, a bit shaken himself.

The Great Poisonous Rhinoceros gave another scream of pain and anger. Kim Dokja’s attention snapped back to it.

“Don’t let it get up!” he shouted.

If it got high enough to pour poisonous fog on their heads…

Kim Namwoon threw himself at the beast. With a cry of wild bloodthirst, he kicked into the broken horn, sending it further into the eye socket. The monster reeled.

Yoo Sangah’s threads wrapped around the creature, attempting to pin it down. As soon as it tried to rise, her feet left the ground. Lee Hyunsung caught the threads and wrapped them around his arms; his biceps bulged. Lee Gilyoung also threw his whole weight on the web.

Well, that was a mouthful. But the monster’s legs shook, which was really the only thing that mattered.

Kim Namwoon climbed on the Rhinoceros’ head and stabbed the other eye into a bloody mess with his switchblade. It bellowed. Kim Dokja extracted himself from Yoo Joonghyuk’s arms, but he had to stop on his knees for a moment while his head rang.

Before he could get up, Jung Heewon leapt next to Kim Namwoon, wrenched the broken horn from its spot, and stabbed it back down two-handed.

There was a squelching sound. The monster’s screams cut off. It collapsed onto its side.

“Is it… done?” Jung Heewon panted.

It was only 3,000 coins because he hadn’t been the one to deal the finishing blow. Jung Heewon probably had additional windows. Still, she was impressive. He hadn’t expected an incarnation picked at random to show so much initiative.

“Good work, Jung Heewon-ssi,” he said, sounding surprised even to himself.

But it was hard to tell whether she heard him. She turned away from the monster’s head, gagging.

“Did you have to make such a mess?” she scolded Kim Namwoon.

He laughed at her, but his eyes shone with new respect for her.

“Nice going, Noona!”

Yoo Sangah ran up to the two men still in a heap at the foot of a tree.

“Dokja-ssi, Yoo Joonghyuk-ssi! Are you okay?”

“Fine,” said Kim Dokja, whose head had stopped spinning.

He turned to Yoo Joonghyuk. The man looked at him for a long moment. Just when Kim Dokja was starting to worry about brain damage, he growled:

“You need better exit strategies.”

Watching the blood drip down that handsome face, Kim Dokja felt a pinch of guilt.

“… Yes. Sorry.”

He hadn’t meant to be thrown into Yoo Joonghyuk like that. Because of him, Yoo Joonghyuk had even had to sit out the fight.

Ugh, what was he thinking? It was good that the fight had ended without Yoo Joonghyuk’s help. Him monopolizing ressources was a real risk if he was a part of this group. Kim Dokja knew that intellectually, but as soon as he looked at Yoo Joonghyuk, the calculating distance he could maintain so well the rest of the time disappeared.

It was like hitting a switch, even. If he looked away, he felt fine. If he turned to Yoo Joonghyuk, his heart beat faster with the remains of adrenaline and the reminder that he had just risked his life to kill a monster the size of a house. The gap in the Fourth Wall felt like a physical phenomenon.

This might become an issue. If he could only stay level-headed when the Fourth Wall was fully activated, he might have to keep away from Yoo Joonghyuk.

In the meantime, he didn’t try to resist the urge to lean closer and search for the wound under that thick black hair. Maybe Yoo Joonghyuk still wasn’t in his right mind either, because he let him do it.

[Well well well,] said Bihyung, appearing from nowhere and making everyone else jump. [That was quite the entertaining spectacle, don’t you think, constellations?]

There was an hungry glint in the dokkaebi’s eyes. He had to be thinking more seriously about Kim Dokja’s proposed contract, now. Kim Dokja kept quiet and pressed Yoo Sangah’s offered handkerchief to Yoo Joonghyuk’s head injury.

[To think you’d know that the Great Poisonous Rhinoceros has poison on its horns, and that they’re not even immune to it!] Bihyung continued, flitting over the monster’s corpse and showboating for his channel audience.

“The males use the horns and the poison to fight each other in the first place,” Kim Dokja replied, “during mating season.”

[Yes yes, exactly!]

Kim Dokja would have bet coins that Bihyung hadn’t actually known that. Yoo Joonghyuk looked up at Kim Dokja, his expression searching.

“More importantly, are we safe from the poisonous fog here?” Jung Heewon said.

The question was aimed at Kim Dokja, as she rightfully seemed to assume that Bihyung wouldn’t answer. The dokkaebi giggled and left again. It’s not like the two of them could talk about the contract with everyone around.

“Yes, we should be high enough,” Kim Dokja said. “But we’ll need to get going soon. The racket will have attracted other monsters.”

“More horned bastards?” Kim Namwoon grinned, to the others’ alarm.

“No. The Great Poisonous Rhinoceroses don’t like forests. They can maneuver more easily in the streets.”

“But aren’t rhinoceroses herbivores?” Yoo Sangah asked in confusion.

“Not these ones.”

“Ah… I see,” she acknowledged with a grimace.

“You really know a lot,” Jung Heewon said wonderingly. “That attribute of yours is that good?”

“Well, I also read a lot.”

Hopefully he wasn’t showing off too much. The constellations’ indirect messages about the fight were enthusiastic, but he should be careful not to give the impression that that Scenario Interpreter attribute of his was too powerful, otherwise constellations might try to strong-arm him into helping them further down the road.

Yoo Joonghyuk took the handkerchief from him.

“Let’s go,” he said as he got up.

“Ah, wait a minute.”

Kim Dokja walked to the monster’s corpse. He closed his hand around the horn and dragged it out of the eye socket. Blood ran down it to coat his hand. Now that he looked closer at it, the whole top third of it was sharpened like a blade. That would suit his purpose just fine. He paced at the right spot along the chest, then cut open the hide. A glowing blue orb appeared.

“What’s that?” Kim Namwoon said, suddenly right next to him.

“A monster’s ether core,” he explained as he dislodged it from its spot.

“Are you taking it? But I think it belongs to me and Noona too, you know?”

Kim Dokja stared at the teenager’s shit-eating grin.

“Do you know what to do with it?”

“It’s a matter of fairness, Ahjussi. Are you trying to rob me?”

“Fine. How about I give you 500 coins for it?”

Kim Namwoon shrugged cheerfully and accepted the coins. It’s not like he had any idea how much the core was worth. He just wanted to be a pain. Kim Dokja sighed silently and looked at Jung Heewon.

“What about you?”

“I’ll just take this,” she said, and grabbed the horn he had abandoned.

“… Really?”

“It’s not a bad starting weapon. Kinda sword-like. I know kendo, so.”

She swung it from side to side, then eyed it critically.

“I hope I can clean it, though.”

Well, if that’s what she wanted… Kim Dokja glanced around the group, making sure no one else had any objection. The Star Stream hadn’t credited the others for the kill, but they had helped, especially Lee Hyunsung… Speaking of Lee Hyunsung, the man hadn’t said a word since the fight had ended. He looked dazed.

“Are you alright, Lee Hyunsung-ssi?” Kim Dokja said.

“Ah,” he said, startled. “Yes. We can go if you’re ready, Kim Dokja-ssi.”

Hadn’t he had time to get used to killing monsters when he had gone off with Yoo Joonghyuk the day before? Shrugging it off, Kim Dokja pocketed the core and lead the way. Yoo Joonghyuk walked by his side.

“You won’t eat it?” he said, his eyes on Kim Dokja’s pocket.

“I just cut it out of a corpse. Do you think my stomach is that strong?” he brushed off.

“Don’t you know how to use it?” Yoo Joonghyuk insisted, frowning.

“No, I know.”

If he ate the core, he could raise his Mana stat. A 7th-grade core would guarantee a good boost, too. But he had other plans for it. Yoo Joonghyuk eyed him in frustration, but said nothing more.

The path up the mountain was steep, but rather pleasant. On a few occasions, low-level monsters attempted to ambush them, but Lee Gilyoung warned them well in advance. The boy was clearly in his element with all the insects around, and even Kim Namwoon had to look at his network of flying spies with grudging respect.

“Does that skill work on spiders?” Kim Namwoon muttered. “Spiders are cool.”

Lee Gilyoung eyed him warily.

“Spiders aren’t insects.” He paused. “But they’re cool.”

“Right?!”

They fell in an animated conversation that left Kim Dokja rather bemused. This was the most words he had heard from Lee Gilyoung so far.

The fights they did end up in were quick affairs. Yoo Sangah’s threads hindered the monsters’ moves. Jung Heewon and Kim Namwoon were both armed and seemed to have some unspoken competition between them. Lee Hyunsung and Yoo Joonghyuk did just as much damage as them bare-handed. If anything, Kim Dokja was the one lagging behind. He was using a thick branch he had found, but it tended to splinter against chitin.

He really needed a proper weapon. Unfortunately, Ways of Survival had only described how to make bone weapons from the ground rats in the subway tunnels. The monsters here had more delicate bones.

“Stick close to me,” Yoo Joonghyuk told him.

Kim Dokja gave him a look.

“I’m not going to be your damsel in distress, Yoo Joonghyuk. Since when do you even have the patience for that?”

Yoo Joonghyuk stopped in something like confusion. Kim Dokja started back up on the path. Unbeknowst to him, Jung Heewon stepped up to Yoo Joonghyuk and patted his shoulder in commiseration. The man stared at her like she had spouted extra limbs.

The Namsan Tower appeared above the trees. Soon, they entered the square at the foot of the tower.

“Yikes,” Jung Heewon muttered.

There were human bodies scattered on the square. A few were missing their heads, reminding Kim Dokja of the bodies they had left in the subway after the first scenario. Others had clearly fallen from great heights. One had landed on the panda mascots at the edge of the square. The cute white and black plastic figures were splattered in dark blood. The place was eerily silent.

The scenarios had come to this place too.

“Is it dangerous to be here?” Lee Hyunsung muttered, tense.

“It’s okay. Most of the survivors will have left after the first scenario.”

The group had nothing to say to that. How the first scenario would have gone in such a crowded place… it wasn’t something anyone wanted to picture. It was no wonder people had fled as soon as they could.

“Most?” Yoo Joonghyuk said.

“Hmm… Well, there are some people who don’t have anywhere to go back to.”

As if to prove him right, something moved behind the glass partitions in the upper levels.

Kim Dokja led the way inside, everyone behind him on high alert. The entryway led through a long tunnel panneled in screens displaying colorful welcome messages. Half of the screens were cracked, and one of the spidery fractures was covered in blood.

When they got out, Jung Heewon noted:

“Oh, there is a Starbucks here.”

It was said with all the yearning of someone experiencing a caffeine withdrawal headache.

“Maybe… we could take a look?” Lee Hyunsung said hopefully.

Kim Dokja let Jung Heewon, Lee Hyunsung and even a rueful Yoo Sangah head in and realize for themselves that there would be no coffee in the absence of functioning coffee machines. The Star Stream decided which technology still received power in the apocalypse, and it did so on the basis of drama and atmosphere. Lights were okay, though some might flicker or give out entirely in places of great narrative tension; coffee machines and other luxury amenities weren’t worth mentioning.

In resignation, Jung Heewon and Yoo Sangah fell back on what little soda was left on the shelves. The display cases had been ransacked, and Lee Hyunsung stared in growing despair at the crumbs left where arrays of pastries should have stood.

“Dokja-ssi…” he sighed, only to realize that Kim Dokja wasn’t there.

Yoo Joonghyuk had taken one look at the Starbucks and at the next-door hotdog restaurant, and he had turned an offended back on the inferior offerings. Kim Dokja kept a keen eye on him. When Yoo Joonghyuk made a beeline for the stairs, he followed. He trusted Yoo Joonghyuk’s nose more than his meager knowledge of the tower for this. The rest of the group scrambled after them.

Eyes watched them from the shadows of stores. They warily closed ranks.

“Oi, Ahjussi,” Kim Namwoon hissed.

“I know. It’s okay. As long as we don’t go looking for trouble, they won’t either.”

On the second floor, Yoo Joonghyuk took a sweeping glance of his surroundings. He set his heart on a traditional Korean cuisine restaurant. He trampled the shards of the broken glass door without a care, scaring the couple of foreigners who had taken refuge inside. The foreigners darted for the other end of the room, the man brandishing a knife as he kept himself between them and his wife.

Yoo Joonghyuk ignored them and disappeared into the kitchen. Kim Dokja smiled at them.

“Don’t worry. We’re just after food.”

Maybe they didn’t understand Korean. His words didn’t stop the woman from pawing at the floor-to-ceiling window, trying to figure out how to open it so they could escape to the tower’s outer gallery. Kim Dokja let Yoo Sangah try to talk to them while he headed after his wayward protagonist.

Yoo Joonghyuk was digging through the cabinets. He emerged with a dusty gas stove, the restaurant’s last resort in case of power cuts. Wow, that guy really was like a bloodhound to have found that, wasn’t he?

Yoo Joonghyuk stopped. He glanced at the door, seeming to realize for the first time that the whole group had followed him. Curious faces watched him around the doorjamb. Kim Dokja smiled at him winningly.

“What are the chances I can convince you to share?”

Yoo Joonghyuk glared. The dark look didn’t abate even in the face of Lee Hyunsung’s stomach choosing that moment to give a pathetic growl.

But then Kim Dokja’s stomach, out of sympathy, growled too. Yoo Joonghyuk faltered visibly. Although surprised, Kim Dokja pressed his advantage.

“This is a meat restaurant, anyway. The meat is going to spoil soon without power to the fridges. If you’re going to cook some, you might as well cook all of it, right?”

The stove landed on the counter with a clatter.

“Check the walk-in fridge,” Yoo Joonghyuk growled, caveman-like.

Recognizing a victory when he saw one, Kim Dokja darted in to do just that. Thankfully, though the tower occupants had obviously looted here too, they had had the good sense of closing the fridge door behing them. The small room wasn’t as cold as it should have been, but it was enough that the food hadn’t started to spoil.

“There are a lot of ready-made side dishes here, Yoo Joonghyuk,” Kim Dokja said, emerging from his quest with a cheery voice and his arms piled high with meat, kimchi and soup.

Yoo Joonghyuk glared at the containers with disdain.

“I don’t eat food made by others.”

That’s right, that paranoid jerk had a setting like that. Yoo Sangah appeared in the doorway, mouth opened to say something.

“No,” Yoo Joonghyuk said briskly.

Yoo Sangah blinked.

“I just wanted to offer my h…”

“No.”

Yoo Sangah exchanged a glance with Kim Dokja, then looked toward the restaurant’s main room.

“Eeh, if he wants to do all the work, I say let him,” Jung Heewon said from out of Kim Dokja’s view.

Evidently, similar rebuttals had already been delivered.

“Here, Yoo Sangah-ssi, you can help me,” Kim Dokja said as he set to gathering cutlery and preparing the side dishes. “If Yoo Joonghyuk won’t eat these, that just means more for the rest of us.”

Soon, they were gathered in the restaurant around a full table the likes of which Kim Dokja hadn’t seen since Mino Soft’s anniversary event. The side dishes may have been a day old, but they were delicious. The rice Yoo Joonghyuk had coaxed from the stove was fluffier than anything Kim Dokja had ever managed in his actual rice cooker, and the meat the man consented to share brought real tears to Lee Hyunsung’s eyes, so tender and fragrant was it. Jung Heewon praised the food to the heavens. Lee Gilyoung didn’t say a word the whole time, starry-eyed as he devoured.

Yoo Sangah had managed to calm the two foreigners into an uneasy truce. They sat at a table near the window, warily watching them. The last of their distrust disappeared when she brought them some food. They eagerly dug in, a bit awkward with their chopsticks. Kim Dokja watched Yoo Sangah talk to them in English.

When she came back to the group, she seemed troubled.

“Dokja-ssi,” she said. “When you said some people have nowhere to go… you meant people like them, didn’t you? Tourists, foreign visitors…”

“There were probably a lot of them in the tower,” he said. “For them, there isn’t much point in going back to their hotels, if they could even find their way back. They don’t speak Korean?”

“Not much, no.”

“Hmm… That won’t help them.”

He cut himself off when new strips of meat were set down in his rice bowl.

“Eat,” Yoo Joonghyuk said.

He turned back to the stove where he was watching the meat cooking. The cuts that weren’t transferred to his own plate went for the most part into the communal dish that the rest of the table fought over like starving wolves, but some periodically appeared in front of Kim Dokja. When Kim Namwoon snarked something about favoritism and pretended to steal from Kim Dokja’s bowl, Yoo Joonghyuk sent him such a terrible glare that even the chuuni teenager retreated without a fight.

Kim Dokja didn’t know what to think. He hadn’t had someone slipping more food into his plate since he was a child. The extra attention made his stomach twist in ways that weren’t conducive to digestion.

The next time Yoo Joonghyuk turned toward him, he hastily crossed his chopsticks over his empty bowl.

“No more, Yoo Joonghyuk, no more. I’m not going to be able to move if I eat any more.”

He stretched with a groan, feeling his shirt strain over his stomach. Yoo Joonghyuk frowned and abandoned the stove. Their companions looked disappointed, but their chewing slowed at the remainder that they hadn’t just come here to gorge themselves.

“What are we doing here, Ahjussi? This place is nauseating,” Kim Namwoon sneered.

Well, he would think that, with the amount of cutesy mascots scattered everywhere.

Kim Dokja glanced at the window. The sun was high in the sky, now.

“It shouldn’t be much longer,” he said.

Yoo Joonghyuk’s eyes narrowed at that message. Before he could say anything, the characteristic sound of a dokkabi appearing drew everyone’s attention to the gallery outside.

[Hello, hello, everyone,] Bihyung said, before adding in English: [ahem, English translation to follow in a minute for our foreign friends, don’t you worry!]

His gleeful eyes met Kim Dokja’s. Evidently, he too approved of Kim Dokja coming here.

[Have you been well?] Bihyung said, beaming at the tower occupants. [You must be getting bored, isolated in this tower with the poisonous fog all around you. Let’s liven this place up a little! This is a fun game that is sure to make you meet your new neighbors and turn you into the very best of friends.]

His smile showed off many sharp teeth.

“20,000 coins?” Jung Heewon shouted. “Isn’t that huge?”

“It’s for the whole team, though,” Kim Namwoon said.

“That’s right,” Yoo Sangah said. “There are seven of us, so… that would make a little under 3,000 coins per person?”

Jung Heewon deflated.

“Uh. Well that’s disappointing.”

“Do you think so?” Kim Dokja said blandly. “3,000 coins is still pretty good at this point in the scenarios.”

“Well, yes,” Jung Heewon said, “but compared to 20,000…”

She stopped, noticing that his eyes were on the two foreigners. They were discussing the scenario in furious whispers.

“Kim Dokja-ssi?”

Kim Dokja hoisted a smile on his lips and addressed the couple in his best, heavily accented English.

“Excuse me. Do you want to join our team for this scenario?”

“Dokja-ssi!” hissed Jung Heewon.

Yoo Joonghyuk’s fist closed warningly around his arm. Kim Dokja ignored them both. The foreigners looked at him, then at each other. They rose to their feet with an awkward smile.

“Thank you, no. We will do the scenario on our own.”

“I see. Good luck, then.”

The group waited until they had scurried out the broken door.

“Kim Dokja,” Yoo Joonghyuk growled.

“Why would you ask them that?” Jung Heewon concurred. “There are already so many of us!”

Kim Namwoon snorted as he balanced on his chair’s rear legs.

“They would have had to be dumb to agree. Who the fuck would trade 10,000 coins for whatever the fuck is 20,000 divided by nine?”

“Yes,” Kim Dokja agreed easily.

Kim Namwoon’s chair landed on its four feet.

“Ooh,” he said, with the air of someone who had figured something out.

Kim Dokja looked away. He wasn’t a fan of how alike Kim Namwoon and him could think, sometimes.

“Should we split up?” Jung Heewon said, considering.

“No, that’s a bad idea, Jung Heewon-ssi,” Yoo Sangah said.

“Why?”

“There is only one team that will win. Before we think about splitting the reward, isn’t it better to ensure we win first? The more of us there are, the more chances we’ll have to gain those Love Points, right?”

“Yes,” Kim Dokja said, almost covered by Kim Namwoon’s yell of “ding ding ding! Noona gets it!”

“Ahjussi?” Lee Gilyoung said, looking confused.

“The reward is big on purpose,” Kim Dokja told him. “People won’t want to make a big team, because it would lower their individual rewards. But the only way to win in the first place is to make a big team.”

“So it’s a trap,” the boy said solemnly.

Jung Heewon groaned. Kim Namwoon ribbed her for falling for it.

“I also would have suggested splitting up, Jung Heewon-ssi,” Lee Hyunsung told her, sheepish.

The storm cloud on Yoo Joonghyuk’s face didn’t abate.

“Stop asking strangers to team up,” he growled at Kim Dokja.

“I was just hurrying them out of the room so we could talk more easily.”

He hadn’t wanted them either. Their character profiles were underwhelming. But he wouldn’t say that out loud in front of the too kind Yoo Sangah.

“So, we need to make pairs to take on the challenges?” Lee Hyunsung said. “But there is an odd number of us.”

“That’s true,” Yoo Sangah said.

“That’s actually for the best,” Kim Dokja said. “An odd number of teammates is best for this scenario.”

“Huh?”

“Winning the challenges isn’t going to get us far if we can’t log the points in the Sunset Zone.”

Yoo Joonghyuk unexpectedly spoke up.

“A basic strategy would be to log the first points of the game, then to prevent other teams from accessing the logging zone.” The acute look he threw Kim Dokja had goosebumps rising on his arms. “This is why you accepted that woman?”

“That woman? Are you talking about me?” Jung Heewon bristled.

Kim Dokja didn’t react. Ah, he really shouldn’t underestimate the famous Pro Gamer attribute, should he? He ignored the blinking windows in the corner of his vision.

He was getting rather sick of seeing these words. He was sure he wasn’t that predictable, but every time Yoo Joonghyuk had so much as a theory that touched upon the truth, that damn One Half of a Whole popped up and confirmed it for him beyond a shred of doubt.

Kim Namwoon pushed his chair back and stood. He punched his open palm.

“So we should mob the other teams?” he asked, sneering. “I’m game.”

“I’m not,” Jung Heewon rebelled, aghast. “Can’t we play the game straight? There are enough of us to win lots of points, right?”

“Boring, Ahjumma.”

“Why am I suddenly an ahjumma?! You called me Noona earlier. You call Yoo Sangah-ssi Noona!”

Kim Dokja broke his staring contest with Yoo Joonghyuk to glance around the table. Lee Gilyoung looked indifferent, but Yoo Sangah and Lee Hyunsung both seemed uncomfortable with the idea of brute-forcing their way through the scenario.

“It’s up to you guys,” Kim Dokja said. “We can do it either way.”

Without surprise, Kim Namwoon was outvoted. He sat back, pouting.

“You didn’t even vote, Captain?” he complained. “It was your idea!”

“I said it was a basic strategy,” Yoo Joonghyuk retorted. “One that other teams will be using, whether we do or not.”

“You can’t fight in the Sunset Zone, though,” Lee Gilyoung pointed out. “It’s written in the rules.”

“Oh,” Jung Heewon said. “So there’ll be ambushes around the Sunset Zone, is that it?”

“Yes, that’s right,” Kim Dokja said. “Which means going back and forth to log points would make us lose time and take unnecessary risks. It’d be best for one person to stay there the whole scenario. They’ll be safe in the Zone. We can escort them there and then split up to do the challenges.”

“I see,” Yoo Sangah said in surprise. “So that’s Dokja-ssi’s idea. But how would the person know when there are points to log if they have to stay in the Zone?”

Kim Dokja put one hand on the back of Lee Gilyoung’s chair.

“What do you think?”

The boy nodded.

“I can do it. With my insects, I can keep an eye on everyone. I’ll do it, Ahjussi.”

“Alright,” Kim Dokja said. “Then the teams… Jung Heewon-ssi can go with Kim Namwoon. Then Yoo Sangah-ssi and I…”

“No,” Yoo Joonghyuk cut in.

“What? Hey, don’t be picky. What, you want Kim Namwoon instead of Lee Hyunsung-ssi?”

Yoo Joonghyuk glared at him.

“You and I are teaming up,” he decreed.

Kim Dokja opened his mouth, but found himself momentarily speechless. Where was this coming from? Yoo Joonghyuk may not trust him, but this was just one measly scenario. Was there a need to kick up such a fuss?

“I don’t want to go with the kid either,” Jung Heewon chose that moment to say.

“That hurts, Ahjumma,” Kim Namwoon smirked.

“I can go with Kim Namwoon,” Yoo Sangah said.

Kim Dokja threw her a betrayed look. Why was she choosing Yoo Joonghyuk’s side over his? She gave him an angelic smile that definitely knew more than it was saying. What was he missing?

“Then we can go together, right?” Jung Heewon asked of Lee Hyunsung, who fidgeted, but gave a flustered nod.

Kim Dokja glanced at Lee Hyunsung, still painfully shy around women. He glanced at the clueless Jung Heewon, at Kim Namwoon’s bored face, at Yoo Joonghyuk’s unyielding wall of an expression.

“Are you sure?” he said, exasperated. “Are you all really, really sure about this?”

“What?” Jung Heewon said. “What’s the problem?”

He knew Yoo Sangah well enough to be able to tell she was trying to hide her amusement.

“Hey, Yoo Sangah-ssi. Have you visited the tower before?”

She demurely tucked her hair behind her ear.

“Yes, I have.”

“I see. So you can make a few guesses about the challenges, right?”

“Well,” she hummed. “Considering the points for this scenario are called Love Points… I remember the Namsan Tower is a very popular spot for couples.”

Jung Heewon raised an eyebrow.

“They advertise a whole series of romantic picture spots, don’t they?” Yoo Sangah went on. “If we have to register at the Pledge of Love photo booths, and the logging area is the Sunset Zone, then the challenges should be in the other picture spots. So if I recall correctly, that leaves, let’s see… the Tunnel of Love… the Graffiti Wall of Love… the Bridge of Love… oh, and the Proposal Staircase, was it?”

Yoo Sangah smiled innocently at Kim Dokja.

“… Yes, I think Yoo Sangah-ssi has got them all,” he said.

“H-huh?” Lee Hyunsung said, scarlet.

Kim Namwoon cracked up, his hyena laugh filling the restaurant. Lee Gilyoung watched them all with an unimpressed look.

“W-well,” Jung Heewon said, rubbing her neck with her eyebrows high on her forehead. “I mean, it’s just a scenario, right?”

The question was directed at Lee Hyunsung, who nodded his head furiously, but proved incapable of looking her in the eye.

Kim Dokja side-eyed Yoo Joonghyuk, sure to see him grimace in distaste. The man had to see the awkwardness of what he was proposing, now, right? But Yoo Joonghyuk’s face remained unmoving.

His total lack of reaction set off a niggling suspicion in Kim Dokja. Yoo Joonghyuk couldn’t have known about this, could he have? He had given no sign of remembering this scenario.

Then again, he had considerable experience in the scenarios. If Yoo Joonghyuk had caught sight of a map of the tower while they were heading in…

No way, had he guessed just like Yoo Sangah did? But then what was his problem? Kim Dokja’s original teams were geared up toward maximum efficiency while accounting for the nature of each challenge. Jung Heewon and Kim Namwoon’s fighting abilities were well matched, and Kim Dokja and Yoo Sangah would be a good fit for…

...

No, it couldn’t be that…

Kim Dokja reeled. Yoo Joonghyuk glared into his eyes with great prejudice.

What the hell.

Yoo Joonghyuk was jealous that he wanted to team up with Yoo Sangah?

“Hey, you…” Kim Dokja stammered, flabbergasted.

The feet of Yoo Joonghyuk’s chair screeched against the floor.

“Enough talking,” he growled. “We’re losing time.”

The team obligingly got up after him. The smile Yoo Sangah sent Kim Dokja as she passed him was equal parts curious and entertained.