✦ Prologue ✦
The cold metal object vibrated inside his pocket.
"...You're still here."
Three weeks. It had been exactly three weeks since this object forced its way into his life.
No matter how many times he threw it away, burned it, or buried it, the damn thing always found its way back into his pocket.
A low vibration hummed through the object, so faint it could almost be mistaken for his own heartbeat.
But it wasn't the real problem.
Buzz.
The air folded inward, distorting the space in front of him.
Suddenly, a translucent, blood-red holographic interface materialized in midair. Striking black and white text flickered violently across the screen.
The Arcana Sequence was waiting for his response.
[THE xxxx HAS DRAWN A PATH]
[CONDITION LOCKED]
Next Activation: Pending
Timeframe: Unstable
Failure Penalty: [ xxxx xx xxx xxxx xxxx xxxx ]
[FINAL WARNING]
— DO OR DIE —
The crimson screen hovered inches from his face, an ominous reminder of his reality. It appeared dozens of times a day, as if it took twisted pleasure in mocking him.
A threat.
A reminder.
A leash.
Zekai had stopped counting how many times it had tried to scare him.
It wanted him to tremble. It wanted him to submit to the fear of death.
Zekai's lips curled into a cold, irritated smirk.
"...How pathetic."
This damn system had completely obliterated his peaceful days.
He closed his eyes.
Three weeks of testing had given him only two certainties.
The System never lied. And it never threatened without following through.
The countdown was ticking. Time was running out.
"Fine."
He still didn't have a clue what this holographic anomaly actually was, or what kind of twisted game it was playing.
'Let's see just how far this thing can push me.'
His grandfather's parting words flashed through his mind one last time.
'Alright, old man.'
'I'll experience it.'
But Zekai had absolutely no intention of becoming a casualty in this game.
His grip tightened, nearly snapping the object in half. His eyes shone with a dangerous, sharp light.
"I'm going to save him."
It didn't matter what the System demanded.
It didn't matter what kind of god or monster had created it.
God.
Monsters.
The System itself.
If something stood between Zekai and his goal—
He would destroy it.
'The world doesn't need to understand what I'm doing.'
'As long as I eliminate every single obstacle in my way.'
✦ End of Prologue ✦
✦ Chapter 1 — The One Who Watches the World ✦
[Three weeks earlier.]
Zekai Krystan stood before a convenience-store shelf, staring at a row of instant ramen as though one of the packages had personally offended him.
A small bouquet of white flowers rested against his left arm while he silently calculated the money in his pocket.
500 Ryn.
That was everything his grandfather had given him that morning.
Zekai looked at the ramen, then at the rice balls beside it. "...Still not enough."
He picked up one package, checked the price, and put it back. "Morning ramen. Rice ball for later."
He sighed. "If I still had my job, I wouldn't have to think this hard about breakfast."
That was more or less what his life had become. No job. No ambition. No particular destination. Just enough money to survive another day.
His grandfather had always teased him about that.
"Do you know what your name means, Zekai?"
"The One Who Watches the World."
"Most people look. Very few actually see."
Zekai had always thought Marcus was being unnecessarily dramatic.
Maybe he hadn't been.
He picked up the ramen and two rice balls before glancing down at the bouquet tucked beneath his arm.
Today marked the second anniversary of his parents' deaths.
His gaze lingered on the white petals. "...Let's just get this over with."
He headed toward the counter, his eyes wandering across the store out of habit. An employee was restocking bottled water near the refrigerator, a mother was comparing two brands of cereal, and somewhere behind him a child was arguing loudly about chocolate.
The store was ordinary. Comfortably so.
Then—
Thump!
Something slammed into his waist. A little girl had run straight into him and fallen backward.
"Ouch!"
Zekai immediately crouched and reached out a hand.
"Hey... sorry. I didn't see you."
The girl was already getting back on her feet. She didn't cry. Instead, her eyes suddenly lit up as she spotted something on the shelf behind him.
"Mommy! Look! The chocolate is over here!"
She sprinted away.
Zekai's hand remained suspended in the air for a moment before he slowly lowered it.
"...Okay."
He watched the girl disappear around the shelf. A few seconds later, she found her mother and began excitedly tugging at her sleeve.
Zekai looked away.
'She's fine.'
That was enough. He continued toward the register.
Behind the counter stood Aron Lexi, the nineteen-year-old part-timer. Aron's expression brightened the moment he saw Zekai approaching.
"M-Mr. Zekai! Morning—ah, sorry. Good morning."
"...Morning."
Zekai placed the ramen and rice balls on the counter. Aron scanned them one by one.
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
His movements were practiced enough to suggest he'd done the same routine thousands of times.
Then his eyes landed on the bouquet. His smile faded slightly. He didn't ask about it. Instead, he glanced at the empty space beside Zekai.
"I haven't seen Grandpa Marcus lately. Is he doing okay?"
"Hm?"
Zekai adjusted the flowers beneath his arm.
"He went to Sanctum Grace, the holy capital of Thyra. Said he had a circus performance there."
"Oh, I see." Aron nodded.
"That sounds like him."
The scanner beeped again.
"150 Ryn."
Zekai reached into his pocket. Nothing. His fingers searched deeper. Still nothing.
"...What?"
He checked the other pocket. Empty. A crease appeared between his brows.
"I had 500 Ryn this morning."
He was certain. Marcus had handed him the money before he left.
Zekai checked his inside pocket. Nothing.
'Did I lose it?'
His fingers brushed against something cold. He froze. That hadn't been there before.
Zekai slowly pulled it from his pocket. A sleek black-and-red tarot box rested in his palm.
He stared at it.
'What is this?'
He had never seen it before. Then he remembered his coat.
Zekai looked down at the dark fabric covering his arms and pinched the collar between his fingers. The sleeves, stitching, buttons...
His coat and Marcus's had always looked almost identical. "...Wait."
His eyes widened. "This isn't my coat."
The memory returned.
He'd grabbed a coat from the rack that morning without checking. "...I took Grandpa's."
Zekai sighed. "Great."
Then the obvious thought followed. The money. If he was wearing Marcus's coat, then his five hundred Ryn was still in his own.
And if he'd taken Marcus's coat by mistake...
His own coat was probably still with his grandfather.
Zekai looked down at the tarot box again.
"...Then this belongs to Grandpa too?"
It was small enough to fit in one hand. Its surface was unnaturally smooth and dark, while a thin crimson pattern ran along its edges like veins beneath black glass.
He turned it over. There were no markings.
No name. Nothing that explained why it had been inside Marcus's coat. "...Weird."
He placed it on the counter. For several seconds, nothing happened.
Then—
Ripple.
Zekai froze.
The glass of water beside the register trembled. Only slightly.
He looked around.
The hanging lights were perfectly still. The shelves weren't shaking. The refrigerator wasn't vibrating. Even the loose promotional sign near the entrance remained motionless.
Only the water had moved. A tiny wave reached the edge of the glass. Then receded.
Zekai stared at it.
An earthquake?
No.
Impossible.
He looked around again. Everything else was normal.
"...Huh."
Something about it bothered him. Not because it was dangerous.
Because it didn't make sense.
Zekai pushed the thought aside and reached into his pocket again.
His fingers found nothing. He checked the other pocket.
Nothing.
His stomach sank.
Damn it.
He was completely broke. Zekai slowly raised his head.
"Aron..."
"I know."
Aron was already reaching beneath the counter.
He pulled out his employee card, swiped it across the reader, and paid the remaining balance before Zekai could stop him.
Beep.
The register accepted the payment.
Zekai stared at him. "...What are you doing?"
Aron placed the food into a plastic bag. "It's fine."
"I'll pay you back."
"Sure."
"When?"
Aron paused. "...Eventually?"
Zekai stared at him.
Aron laughed. "Just pay me later."
He handed over the bag.
Zekai hesitated.
He wasn't the kind of person who liked accepting things from others, especially when he couldn't return the favor immediately. Pride made it easier to go without than to owe someone.
But Aron had already paid before he could object, and the boy's insistence left little room for argument.
Zekai stared at the bag for a moment before finally taking it.
"...Thanks."
He said it quietly, almost as if the word itself had cost him something.
"It's really not a big deal." Aron smiled. Then his eyes drifted toward the bouquet again.
"Mr. Zekai."
Zekai's expression immediately changed. "Hm?"
"How's it going with Sara?"
Then a faint grin appeared. "Your girlfriend?"
Aron's hand froze above the register. "I-I know who you mean!"
"Then?"
Aron's ears turned red. He glanced around the store before leaning closer. "Yeah."
His voice dropped into an excited whisper. "It's going really well."
Zekai raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"
"We even went to the theater yesterday."
Aron looked around again. "During the movie..."
He leaned closer. "When nobody was looking, she suddenly kissed me."
Zekai stared at him for a moment. Then laughed quietly. "Well, look at you."
His grin widened. "You're actually making progress."
Aron's face brightened. "I know!"
He clenched one fist beside the register. "I thought my heart was going to explode."
"Calm down. You're nineteen, not twelve."
"Mr. Zekai!"
"What?"
"Don't ruin the moment!"
Zekai chuckled. It was a small laugh. But it was genuine.
Aron smiled with him. Then his gaze fell upon the flowers again. The smile slowly disappeared.
"Mr. Zekai..."
"Hm?"
"Are you okay?"
Zekai's expression stiffened.
Aron hesitated before swallowing. "Today is..."
His voice softened. "...your parents' second death anniversary, right?"
The laughter vanished. For a moment, Zekai couldn't think of an answer.
The convenience store hadn't changed. The lights still glowed overhead. The refrigerators continued humming. The register still displayed the same numbers.
Yet somehow, everything suddenly felt far away.
His fingers tightened around the bouquet. He looked down at the white petals.
They were beautiful.
Fragile.
Temporary.
Something almost resembling a smile touched his lips.
It disappeared just as quickly. "I'm fine."
He lifted the flowers slightly. "See these?"
Aron nodded.
"Flowers wither eventually."
Zekai studied the petals. "That doesn't mean everything around them has to wither too."
His voice remained calm. "They're gone."
He looked at Aron.
"I'm not."
A faint smile returned. "So, really..."
"...I'm fine."
Aron opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Some pain couldn't be fixed by finding the right sentence.
So Aron simply nodded. "...Okay."
After a moment, he forced a smile. "Then make sure you eat something after you visit them."
Zekai blinked. "You just paid for my breakfast."
"Exactly."
Aron pointed at the bag. "Don't waste my money."
Zekai stared at him. Then laughed softly. "...You're annoying."
"I get that a lot."
Zekai turned toward the entrance.
"Take care of yourself!" Aron called after him. "And don't forget to eat on time!"
Zekai raised one hand without turning around.
"Yeah, yeah."
The automatic doors opened, and cold morning air swept across his face.
He stepped outside with the bouquet tucked beneath one arm and the food bag hanging loosely from his fingers.
For several seconds, he simply stood there. Then his phone vibrated.
Bzzz.
Zekai pulled it from his pocket. A breaking-news notification filled the screen.
He tapped it.
A V-Tube broadcast opened immediately.
> "Breaking news from Linoria District. Authorities have confirmed six additional homicides overnight."
The reporter stood behind a line of police vehicles. Her voice remained professional, but the tension in her expression was obvious.
> "All six victims were convicted criminals. Police have yet to establish a connection between the killings."
The footage changed.
Crime scenes.
Police tape.
Victim photographs.
Then an evidence board appeared.
Dozens of faces stared back beneath a web of red strings. Across every victim's body was the same mark.
A single letter.
F.
Zekai's eyes narrowed.
A repeated symbol on every corpse wasn't something left behind by chance.
It was a message.
The only question was—
Who was it meant for?
The reporter continued.
> "With these latest deaths, the confirmed number of victims has reached one thousand and twenty-two."
She paused before continuing.
> "Authorities across the Thyra Covenant Nation remain on high alert. Citizens are being urged to avoid traveling alone after dark and report any suspicious activity immediately."
Zekai reread the number.
One thousand and twenty-two.
That wasn't a normal serial killer.
No ordinary person could maintain a killing spree on that scale without being caught.
He locked his phone and slipped it back into his pocket.
Then he noticed the pedestrian signal ahead. The crossing was crowded. Zekai started walking. That was when he noticed the men.
A group stood near the opposite corner, dressed in black trench coats and dark sunglasses.
Nothing unusual. Except they were all staring at the sky.
Zekai slowed.
What are they looking at?
He tilted his head upward and raised a hand against the sunlight.
There was nothing. Only a cloudless blue sky. Then, simultaneously, every man lowered his gaze toward his wrist.
They checked their watches. Then looked back toward the sky. The exact same movement.
Zekai stopped.
One of them spoke.
"Countdown started."
Another answered.
"Be ready."
A faint orange light pulsed from their watches.
Zekai's eyes narrowed.
What the hell...?
Meteor strike?
Terrorist attack?
He glanced around. Hundreds of pedestrians waited around him.
Nobody reacted. People were talking, checking their phones, drinking coffee, laughing.
Completely unaware. Zekai looked back at the men.
Why is nobody else noticing?
Then he saw another group across the road. More black coats. More identical watches.
More people staring toward the empty sky. The amusement disappeared from Zekai's face.
Either I'm paranoid...
...or everyone else is blind.
The pedestrian signal turned green. The crowd surged forward.
Zekai moved with them, but his attention never left the strange men.
He passed beneath the traffic lights. Then muttered under his breath—
"...What a bunch of fools."
"Mr. Zekai!"
Zekai stopped. He knew that voice. He turned.
Aron was running toward him through the crowd.
"You forgot this!"
He held up the black-and-red tarot box.
Zekai's expression changed.
That box...
Aron reached him, breathing heavily.
"You left it at the register."
Before Zekai could respond, his phone began ringing.
Bzzz—Bzzz—
The caller ID appeared.
Grandpa Marcus.
Zekai frowned.
Why is he calling me now?
He accepted the call.
"Grandpa—"
Someone slammed into his shoulder.
Zekai's body twisted from the impact.
His phone slipped from his fingers and spun through the air.
At the same instant, something shifted inside the inner lining of Marcus's coat.
A faint click came from somewhere near his chest.
Zekai barely noticed it.
The impact had jostled something loose from a small, concealed pocket sewn deep inside the coat—one he hadn't even known was there.
Something slipped through the opening.
Clack.
It struck the asphalt.
Zekai's gaze dropped.
Aron's did too.
A small black stone cube lay between them. Its surface was perfectly smooth. No seams. No markings. Nothing.
Yet the moment Zekai saw it, something inside him recoiled.
What is this?
He couldn't remember ever seeing it before. Beside him, Aron had gone completely still. His eyes were fixed on the cube. He couldn't look away. For some reason, the sight of it filled him with a fear he couldn't explain.
Then—
A thin crimson line appeared across the cube's surface.
Zekai's eyes narrowed. It looked like a crack.
No. It looked like something bleeding from inside. The line slowly brightened.
Brighter.
Brighter.
Until its crimson glow reflected across Aron's widened eyes.
Then—
[Tick.]
A faint mechanical sound echoed through the intersection.
Zekai's breath caught.
The wind stopped.
The crowd stopped.
The traffic stopped.
A piece of dust hung motionless in the air.
Everything had frozen. The entire intersection had become silent.
Not quiet.
Silent.
As though the world itself had simply forgotten how to move.
Zekai stared at the black cube. His heartbeat thundered inside his chest.
The crimson line widened by another fraction. And somewhere beneath the frozen world...
something awakened.
✦ End of Chapter 1 — The One Who Watches the World ✦