Ding-a-ling.
"Welcome."
The bell on the convenience store door chimed, and I flashed my best customer-service smile.
The young guy who walked in silently pulled out a card and slid it over.
"Volboro Gold."
"Yes, Volboro Gold. One moment, please."
He looked younger than me, but the casual speech came right out.
I kept up the smile through the informal tone and grabbed the yellow pack from the shelf.
After a year slinging shifts here, I'd heard it all a thousand times.
At least he wasn't barking orders—just short, clipped responses.
"Transaction complete. Here you go."
"..."
The second the payment cleared, he snatched the pack like it owed him money.
Ignoring my goodbye was just icing on the cake.
What a prick.
I grumbled internally and plopped back down on the stool by the register.
Feels just like any other day sitting here.
Same old store, same routine tasks, same types of customers.
It all felt so normal, like yesterday's insanity was just a dream.
But I knew better than anyone that it wasn't.
I stepped outside and pointed at the clouds overhead.
"Magic Missile."
⚡ SKILL ACTIVATED ⚡ Magic Missile
Sparks crackled from my fingertip, launching a streak of blue light into the sky!
Magic. The stuff of fantasy miracles that no ordinary human could touch.
Even after firing it off a few times since yesterday, the power still blew my mind.
Suddenly, I recalled what the mage in the dungeon had said.
'In three days, my world will crumble.'
One day down, so two left?
It didn't seem like he was counting down to the exact second, so maybe a bit more leeway.
One thing was crystal clear: the real apocalypse was hitting Earth.
He'd hammered that home over and over—no doubt about it.
-In three days, you must prove your worth through struggle and survive.
Or cling to the strong and preserve your life.
-Struggle? I thought apocalypse meant some natural disaster or something.
-In a way, it is... but not some unstoppable force of nature sweeping everything away. You'll always get your chance.
-Chance? What the hell does that mean? Give me details.
-That's all I can say within my authority. But you're lucky. You've seized the opportunity to grow strong before the end.
The mage clammed up after that.
Short talk, but I pieced together three key points.
The world's end wasn't a natural disaster.
You could fight and win with your own power to survive.
And even the weak could hitch a ride with the strong.
Putting it together, the picture sharpened.
Sounds a hell of a lot like a Monster Wave.
Monster Wave.
In games, monsters go berserk on a cycle, swarming players in hordes.
Lore ties it to eclipses, comets, stuff like that—dictates the monster types.
Fail to hold the line, and your character dies—game over.
No permanent fix since types vary; pure defense event.
Can't win? Dead. But fight through it, or glom onto the strong? Had to be it.
Just a guess, but prepping for it can't hurt.
Part of me still doubted.
Dimensional Gate and magic with my own eyes? Sure. But Earth's end?
Still, he begged me to prepare. Sitting on my hands felt wrong.
Especially with it hitting in just three days—not ten years out.
If I'm gearing up, better do it thoroughly and fast.
Decision made, the glass door swung wide.
Ding-a-ling.
"Welco—"
"Hey, yeah. I'm here. Miss me?"
"..."
His smirking face made my eyes narrow on instinct.
This guy was the last person I wanted to see.
Park Geon-woong.
The boss's son, useless but always itching to piss people off.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Goddamn asshole. Almost let a curse slip the second I saw him.
I thought he'd be at the downtown branch now—nope, here he was.
Finally getting a break from his face, and this.
Spotting my expression, Park Geon-woong tilted his head like a thug.
"Yo, I can see that scowl. Control your face or what?"
"Control my face? You playing soldier now?"
"Nah, power trip games."
This prick. My fist clenched; wanted to deck him.
Always knew how to push buttons like nobody else.
Does jack shit but swings by to "check the store" and grind gears.
Two years older than my 27, but demands casual speech while expecting respect.
"Joking. Relax those eyes. Little Jong-min mad?"
"Damn right. Don't interrupt work. Go away. You're annoying."
"This guy's got no chill. Hey, part-timer—know your place?"
"In front of the boss? I know it perfectly."
His giggling face twisted at my retort.
Hated an employee talking back to the son.
Makes sense for a guy living off tormenting clerks at every store Dad owns.
Catch one snapping? Instant excuse to fire.
But me? He can't just axe me on a whim.
Too much crap to handle; no newbie flies solo like I do.
Some interviewees bolted at the store size.
I bail? Hire two newbies at double pay, or he covers till a vet shows.
No way a selfish prick like him wants that.
Of course, I only push so far.
Dad gave him firing rights over hires.
Crab favors crab; boss backs his boy.
Keeps me around for cost reasons only.
Snag another me? I'm gone, no words.
"So why're you here? Almost quitting time; wanna prep."
"Why? Giving you one last shot before you die."
"Huh?"
"Kneel, say 'Sorry for everything.' Forgive all your shit attitude."
What? Lost his mind?
No clue what crawled up his ass for this nonsense.
I'd quit over cash shortages before groveling.
Especially now, three days to doomsday.
Came today to quit anyway.
"Head shot or what? Bullshit in moderation."
"Ha."
Honest since quitting? He scoffed.
Like he expected—hoped for—this.
"You just blew your shot."
"Shot?"
"Yeah. Don't cry later."
Had to laugh.
Why this drivel?
Too many dramas? Loose screw?
Quitting clean; might as well unload.
"Shot my ass. You think you're some chaebol heir?"
"What?"
"You're a convenience store owner's kid. Not third-gen tycoon. Drop the power trips on part-timers and grow up."
"Hey, Kim Jong-min!"
"Shut it. Quitting time. I'm out. As of today. Deposit my pay."
"You little—"
I ignored his yell, stripped off the uniform, tossed it.
Relief guy visible far off; good to go.
Doomsday means no cash anyway, but one more jab to rile him.
Storming off, his voice chased.
"In two days, I'll kill you! Remember! Two days—you die by my hand then, you bastard!"
"...!?"
His words froze me.
Two days: World Rebuild's apocalypse kickoff.
And Park Geon-woong screams he'll kill me then.
Too perfect for coincidence.
Is that prick a Beta Tester too?
If so, it tracked.
Law and order crumbles day one, sure.
Cops down? He'd come hunting.
Thinking it, veins bulged on my forehead.
Torments everyone nonstop, then kills over one insult?
Beyond outrageous—infuriating.
What void in his skull?
But he's wrong about one thing.
I'm no helpless normie.
"Dimensional Gate open."
⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙ Dimensional Gate has opened!
Whoosh!
Home sweet home, I opened the gate right away.
Stepping through landed me back where I'd met the mage.
He smiled warmly at the sight of me.
"Ah, you've returned. Ready to learn magic?"
"Yes."
More than ready.
Before, it was vague apocalypse prep.
Now? Concrete motive to power up.
'Two days, he'll kill me,' he said.
Park Geon-woong's type? He'd show, grudge burning.
Forgets nothing; repays tenfold.
Time to prep my welcome.
Grind him underfoot when he arrives.
You're done.
Come at me.
I'll make you beg for mercy.