The Price of Knowing

The wind roared in Ryo's ears as he clung to the edge of the subway car's emergency hatch. Below him, the train crashed into the darkness of the tunnel, the impact sending a shockwave of dust and debris spiraling upward.

His arms trembled. His breath came in ragged gasps.

I should be dead right now.

But he wasn't.

He had survived—just like Kael Draven in the novel.

Above him, a few survivors had made it onto the roof of the tilted train car. A mother clutched her son tightly, sobbing. A man stared at the burning sky with empty eyes. A teenager gripped his bloodied arm, shaking uncontrollably.

They were alive—but barely.

> [You have survived the First Phase of the Apocalypse.]

[Beginner's Privilege will remain active for 23:59:48.]

A cold chill ran down Ryo's spine.

Beginner's Privilege.

He knew this system. In Apocalypse of the Chosen, the first 24 hours of the apocalypse granted a temporary advantage to survivors. Some gained minor skills, others received warnings about impending danger.

But once the privilege period ended…

Most of them died.

The realization made his stomach twist.

"Hey…" A weak voice pulled him from his thoughts.

Ryo turned to see a man—probably in his late twenties—staring at him with wide, desperate eyes.

"H-How did you know?" the man asked, his voice shaking. "You told us to climb… you knew the train was going to fall. How?"

The others were watching too. The mother, the teenager, even the shell-shocked passengers.

Ryo's pulse quickened.

They're suspicious.

It was natural. He had reacted too quickly, made the right decisions when no one else could. In a situation like this, people look for explanations.

And the wrong answer could turn them against him.

"...I saw it in a movie once," Ryo lied, forcing his voice to stay calm. "There was a train crash scene just like this. I just… guessed."

The man stared at him, searching his face for something. Then, finally, he sighed in relief.

"A movie… yeah… that makes sense…" he muttered.

The tension eased. People started murmuring among themselves, their fear shifting back to the chaos outside.

Ryo clenched his fists.

That was close.

> [You cannot reveal your knowledge of the story.]

[Penalty for breaking this rule: Immediate Execution.]

A new system message appeared, making his blood run cold.

Immediate execution?!

So that was it. The system wasn't just giving him knowledge—it was forcing him to use it carefully.

One wrong move, and he wouldn't even have the chance to die in battle.

He'd just cease to exist.

---

The City of the Dead

A loud, monstrous screech echoed through the ruins of the city.

The survivors flinched, huddling closer together. The Abyss Dwellers were still rampaging outside, their massive forms tearing through skyscrapers like paper. Fires raged across the streets. Bodies littered the ground.

Ryo could see no signs of organized resistance.

No police. No military.

No heroes coming to save them.

"This… this isn't happening," the teenager muttered, his face pale. "Where's the army? Why isn't anyone helping us?"

They wouldn't.

Ryo knew that in Apocalypse of the Chosen, the first three days were complete chaos. Governments collapsed almost instantly. Those who survived were those who adapted first.

The people who waited for help—who expected to be saved—would be the first to die.

"We need to move," Ryo said.

The others turned to him.

"Move?!" the mother snapped, still clutching her son. "Go where? There's nothing left!"

Ryo hesitated.

She was right. The city was a war zone, and the Abyss Dwellers weren't the only problem. The real threat would come soon.

Not from monsters.

From other people.

His thoughts raced. In the novel, Kael didn't leave the city immediately. He had hidden in a shelter and prepared for the first major event:

The First Selection.

He had three hours before it started.

And when it did, the survivors would face something far worse than the Abyss Dwellers.

---

A Hidden Threat

"Over there!"

A voice rang out from below.

Ryo's body tensed.

At the base of the ruined subway platform, a group of people stood among the wreckage. They weren't panicked civilians.

They were armed.

One man—tall, muscular, and carrying a lead pipe—grinned up at them.

"Look what we got here," he said. "A bunch of survivors, just waiting to be saved."

Ryo's grip tightened.

No. Not saved.

Hunted.

In Apocalypse of the Chosen, it wasn't the monsters that wiped out the most survivors in the first few hours.

It was people.

Desperate. Ruthless. Ready to kill for supplies, weapons, or just because they could.

And Ryo knew—

If he didn't act now, they were all as good as dead.

---

To be continued…