"NO, PLEASE! LET US IN!"
"DON'T KILL ME! PLEASE!"
"AHHHHH!"
The screams tore through the air as Jörmungandr's huge jaws crushed bodies between teeth as big as cathedral columns.
Some victims vanished completely into that huge mouth. Others fell under the serpent's crushing weight, their last moments staining the riverbank in red.
One by one, the serpent slid through the chaos. Wherever someone tried to escape, its head rose to block the way.
When they turned to run, its tail came crashing down with a sickening crack. Footsteps stumbled. Faces twisted with fear. The ones who hesitated didn't stand a chance.
People ran. There was no plan—just pure panic.
But the serpent was quicker. Smarter. It moved like it already knew where they'd go, pushing the survivors into dead ends where nothing was waiting but death.
"PLEASE LET ME IN!"
The businessman who'd confronted Ilwoo earlier pressed his hands against the barrier, his face twisted with desperate terror. Blood streamed from his nose where he'd slammed into the energy field.
"PLEASE! I'LL DO ANYTHING! I—I KNOW I WAS WRONG BEFORE!"
He looked over his shoulder as others around him met the same horrific fate—a woman clutching her briefcase, an elderly man who'd been too slow to run, a teenager who'd tripped over debris.
"You want money, right?" He fumbled in his pocket, producing a fistful of crumpled bills. "Just let me—"
CRACK!
Before he could finish his plea, the World Serpent's tail swept across the riverbank like a tsunami of scales and muscle. The businessman's body crumpled against the concrete with a sickening thud.
The noise of crushing flesh filled the air, mixing with screams that would haunt Ilwoo's nightmares for years to come.
"Let them in!" someone shouted from inside the safe zone.
"We have to help them!"
"The barrier's at maximum capacity," Ilwoo replied, his masked voice steady despite the horror unfolding mere meters away.
"The system won't allow more entries."
"Then do something! You're the leader!"
A tremor ran through the ground as the serpent lunged again, snapping down with a crunch that echoed across the field. Ilwoo stood still.
"It doesn't work that way." He watched as more people fled in terror, some reaching distant safety, others falling to the serpent's relentless assault.
"This is how the world works now. I'm sorry."
The words came out colder than he'd intended, but something was breaking inside his chest.
'These people are dying because Sena and I took the places they might have had. Because we got here first. Because the world now follows rules that don't care about being fair or kind.'
ROOOOOAAAAAR
Jörmungandr's massive head swiveled toward another group of survivors attempting to hide behind an overturned car. Its jaws opened, revealing rows of teeth that gleamed like ivory spears.
"RUN! OH GOD, RUN!" A woman's voice cracked with panic.
CRUNCH!
The car crushed inward as the serpent's jaws snapped shut. Metal screeched, grinding against bone and scale, like a thousand swords scraping rock.
When the terrifying mouth opened again, all that was left was mangled wreckage, leaking oil and blood.
"Dear God," someone whispered inside the safe zone.
"It's actually eating them."
"Why isn't it attacking us?" another voice trembled.
"The barrier," Ilwoo said bitterly.
"Safe zones are neutral territory. Even world bosses have to respect the system's rules."
But his attention was locked on Sena, who stood stiff beside him, her hands tightly clenched.
Through the small openings in her mask, he saw her watching the massacre with a calm so tense it was like she was either going to break down or suddenly lash out.
"Sena?" he whispered.
"I knew her." Her voice shook. "The woman with the briefcase. Ms. Kim is from the accounting firm next to our old building. She has two daughters."
'She had'
Ilwoo thought about correcting her but kept silent. He stared ahead, feeling helpless and shocked as the massacre went on around them.
Around them, other survivors whispered among themselves:
"I've never seen anything like this..."
"Why hasn't the government mobilized the army?"
"My family's still out there somewhere,"
"Is this really the end of the world...?"
The serpent continued its rampage for another ten minutes, slowly and carefully hunting down anyone foolish enough to remain in the open.
When it finally exhausted all available prey, it released one final roar that shattered windows for miles around, then began sinking back into the Han River's depths.
SPLASH!
The dark water covered Jörmungandr's huge body, leaving only spreading ripples and the smell of death.
The safe zone fell into a deep, tense silence.
Ilwoo closed his eyes and tried to calm himself.
'Focus. For Sena's sake and everyone else's, I can't let my emotions make me weak.'
When he opened his eyes, the whispers had grown louder:
"What kind of leader just watches people die?"
"We could have done something."
"Heartless bastard hiding behind that mask."
"People." His voice cut through the murmurs like a blade. "I need everyone to listen."
The whispers died. Fifty faces turned toward him—some masked like his own, others bare and streaked with tears or shock.
"What we just saw was terrible. Something we can't forgive. But it also teaches us something."
He gestured toward the empty riverbank, where only bloodstains were left.
"This is our new reality. In this world, we have two choices: help each other survive..."
He looked at the fifty people watching him—some wide-eyed in shock, some trembling with fear, and others burning with barely held-back anger.
"Or we die like animals."
A middle-aged woman near the barrier's edge spoke up, her voice shaking with rage. "You sound like you don't even care that they're dead."
"I care more than you can possibly imagine. That's exactly why I won't lie to you about what comes next." Ilwoo's mind was a storm of guilt and necessity.
"So what does come next?"
The last woman to come in, the one holding a homemade spear, walked forward. She looked young, maybe in her early twenties, with a messy bob haircut that looked like she had cut it herself.
Her eyes showed a mix of fear and skill, the same he'd seen in experienced players.
"Three things," Ilwoo said, grateful for a practical question,
"First, as zone leader, I'm responsible for maintaining and expanding our safe zone. That means resource gathering, defense planning, and population management."
"Population management?" someone asked nervously.
"We have to decide who gets in when we grow bigger. It can't just be first-come, first-served all the time."
He paused to make sure they understood.
"We'll need rules. Contributions. Proof that someone is valuable."
"Second, we need to choose our development path. I won't go into details now, but there are multiple routes to survival, each with different advantages and costs."
"And third?" The spear-wielding woman's voice carried a slight rasp that somehow made her sound more dangerous rather than weak.
"Third, eventually, we'll need to climb the tower."
The response came quickly—people gasped, started arguing, and nervously laughed, sure it was a joke.
"You mean that thing?" Someone pointed toward the distant black spire. "That's a death trap!"
Ilwoo's mask made his words sound prophetic, like a judgment being pronounced: "If you want to truly survive, not just hide, climbing the tower is the only way to grow strong enough to matter."
"Bullshit." The woman with the spear moved closer, her weapon held casually but ready. "You're talking about that place like it's some kind of game."
"What's your name?" Ilwoo asked.
"Jin Hayeon. And before you ask, yes, I've been gaming since I could hold a controller." Her bob cut swayed as she tilted her head.
"Doesn't mean I'm stupid enough to think reality works exactly like a game."
"Then you understand how much this reality has become like a game." He gestured toward the transformed city around them.
"We're still in the tutorial zone. Do you know how many floors that tower has?"
Hayeon's grip tightened on her spear. "Fifty floors? A hundred?"
"At the very least. Probably keeps getting harder without limit." He turned to address the whole group again. "Which means we have two options: climb and get stronger, or stay here and wait for something even worse than what we just saw to come down."
"By climbing a tower full of monsters that could kill us all?" someone said sarcastically.
"By climbing a tower full of monsters that will definitely kill us if we're not strong enough to stop them before they reach us." Ilwoo's voice carried absolute certainty. "The tower isn't a choice. It's something we have to face."
Sena finally spoke, her voice cutting through the crowd's murmurs. "What about the people who can't fight? The ones who don't have player interfaces or levels?"
'Good question,'
Ilwoo thought.
'She's thinking about civilian protection. That's the Sena I know.'
"They'll have their own roles. Managing resources, making supplies, keeping the area safe, supporting those on the front lines."
He looked around the group, noting who carried weapons, who moved like fighters, who looked like they'd never thrown a punch in their lives.
"Not everyone needs to be a front-line combatant. But everyone needs to contribute something valuable."
"And if they won't?" Hayeon asked, her tone making it clear she already knew the answer.
"Then they don't get to stay."
The words tasted like ash, but he said them anyway."They'll be kicked out of the safe zone."
The silence that followed was broken by quiet sobbing from someone near the back of the group. The full weight of their situation was finally sinking in.
"How long do we have?" Hayeon asked quietly.
"For what?"
"Before we're forced to climb that thing."
Ilwoo checked his system interface, looking for timers, progression markers, anything that might give them a deadline.
[INTEGRATION PROGRESS: 53% COMPLETE]
[ESTIMATED COMPLETION: 34 HOURS]
"Once that hits one hundred percent, everything changes," he shrugged. "We'll be operating under entirely new rules."
"A day and a half to turn a bunch of office workers and students into monster hunters," Hayeon mused. "Should be interesting."
"You sound like you're looking forward to it."
"Better than the other option."
She grinned, the expression startling through her dirt-stained face and torn clothes.
"Besides, I've been waiting my whole life for the world to finally make sense. Turns out it just needed to become a video game."
She's completely insane, Ilwoo realized. I think I like her already.
"What about you?" Hayeon asked, turning toward Sena. "You're not a player, are you?"
She circled around Sena, studying her carefully.
"I'm his..." Sena glanced at Ilwoo, who nodded slightly. "I'm his friend."
It was easy to lie. Telling the truth about being siblings could put them both at risk.
"And you're right, I'm not a player. I was an accountant."
"Huh. Fair enough." Hayeon nodded, apparently satisfied with the answer, then turned her attention back to Ilwoo.
"So what's the plan, boss man? Three days to get these people ready for tower climbing sounds like a tight squeeze for that kind of prep."
Ilwoo looked out over the safe zone—fifty people, most of them terrified, all of them looking to him for answers he was making up as he went along.
"We gather people first," he said. "Before that, we gather supplies."
"And after that?"
"Then we climb."
The tower rose in the distance, its black walls swallowing light, its top floors vanishing into clouds that hadn't been there earlier that night.
Somewhere inside, trials waited, ones that would either make them stronger or tear them apart.