CHAPTER 7

The biggest reason Arda accepted this offer was that he had no other choice. No matter how you looked at it, the people chasing him were not well-intentioned. And he had encountered them just an hour after arriving. If he was experiencing this kind of trouble within just an hour, who knew what would happen next? Instead of taking such a risk, going somewhere safer was the right decision. Of course, he didn't completely trust them either. They seemed like sincere people, but who knew what they were really up to? After all, this was Hell. Maybe this pair was just as bad as those demons. They could be trying to deceive him and lure him into a trap.

But that wasn't what mattered to Arda at the moment. Because the little girl was holding a gun. If she wanted to harm him, she could have done it right then and there. Instead of offering him a choice, she could have simply forced him. That meant the chances of them being bad people were very, very, very low. And besides, he had already decided to just go with the flow. He was still in a state of mental exhaustion. Where he was going and who he was with didn't really matter to him. He had surrendered himself to the wind. If he was sure that death was the solution, he wouldn't have bothered with any of this—he would have simply grabbed the girl's gun and made her pull the trigger.

But according to the notification he received upon arriving in Hell, if he died, he would somehow be resurrected and would have to die nine more times. So, he let go.

About half an hour later, he was walking through the city streets with them. Along the way, he had the chance to listen to their explanations. He learned what this place was and who they were. And with that, his perspective on his decision to go with them shifted slightly. While he was glad he had come, he realized he had been very wrong about some things.

It turned out this wasn't the Hell he knew. The place he thought was reserved for sinners was actually connected to an anomaly called "Araf." That was because not only bad people ended up here. In fact, it was random. There were all kinds of people—good and bad. Their common trait was that they had all died against their will and fallen into this place called Araf.

This information shocked Arda in many ways. Learning that this place wasn't only for the wicked didn't make him feel relieved—it made him feel worse. If he ever had to kill someone, he would hesitate much more now. But the thing that surprised him the most was the idea that only people who died unwillingly ended up here. Because he had committed suicide. He found that odd but chose not to mention it. When asked how he died, he simply said he had fallen from a hotel rooftop. Thankfully, they didn't ask why he had been there.

They had the same basic knowledge about this Hell. The requirement to kill a certain number of people or to die a specific number of times applied to them as well, but the numbers were different. For example, Sergeant had ended up here for the third time. To return, she needed to die 126 times, kill 12 demons, or kill 12 humans. But she had no intention of doing that. In fact, no one in her group did.

Tired of traveling between Araf and Hell, they had eventually decided to settle here. The main reason behind their decision was the existence of a safe zone. Sergeant's eyes lit up as she talked about it. She spoke of an incredibly cool leader—the only beacon of hope in this horrifying Hell. And now, they were headed toward that very safe zone.

There was only one condition for entering the place: not being a "Scavenger." These so-called Scavengers were people who had fallen into Hell and resorted to terrible things—like killing others—to survive. What truly made them Scavengers, however, was the struggle to survive in the ruins of this destroyed city. The biggest reason why a Scavenger couldn't be allowed into the safe zone was their diet. With food sources so scarce outside, starving to death was easy. And if a Scavenger had managed to survive for a long time, it most likely meant they had crossed the boundaries of humanity and… eaten human flesh. It would be impossible to allow cannibals into their ranks.

The reason they knew Arda wasn't one of them was because of Bulut's ability. Yes, an ability. Apparently, completing missions in Araf granted certain rewards. If this had been the old Arda, his blood would have boiled with excitement upon hearing this. The gambler inside him would have burned with curiosity, wondering what kind of rewards he could get. But now, he felt nothing. Well, maybe just a small flicker of interest, but it disappeared as quickly as it came.

The rewards were highly variable. Sometimes, they received items—objects with supernatural abilities. For example, bags that were the size of a pouch on the outside but could hold an entire room's worth of belongings inside. Clothing that provided resistance to extreme heat and cold. Guns with unlimited ammo. The rewards depended on performance—how well they completed a mission determined what they received.

When they didn't receive items, they usually got abilities. Abilities were like a permanent version of items, directly integrated into the body. Instead of getting a gun with infinite ammo, one could gain the ability to shoot bullets from their fingers. Instead of receiving temperature-resistant clothing, they could develop a natural resistance to extreme temperatures. The difference was that items could be taken off and traded, while abilities were permanent. If someone received an item they didn't need, they could trade it for something more useful—usually with other people. There was also a sort of marketplace they encountered during missions where they could sell unwanted items.

The only other possible reward was knowledge. This was usually useful information—hints about the next mission, survival tips, or secrets about Araf.

Hearing all of this made Arda feel strange. It was as if he was inside a game. He thought back to the games he had played in the past—how the characters threw themselves into danger and how much he had enjoyed it. Back then, those dangers had made him happy. But now, faced with the same kind of risks in reality, he wasn't thrilled at all. As he empathized with the characters he had once played, he realized how much he had put them through.

Still, he couldn't say he felt completely hopeless. At least now, instead of wandering aimlessly, he had a purpose. If these missions had rewards, then there had to be places to use them. If this was a game, there had to be an ending, right?

He got her answer from Sergeant. There really was an ending. Someone in their group had obtained a crucial piece of information while completing a mission. When they received their reward, they saw a single sentence on the screen:

"Complete 100 missions, and you will return to life. You will also have one wish granted."

That one sentence explained everything. The purpose of this place was to complete 100 missions and then have a wish granted. The possibilities were endless. Immortality, infinite wealth, or even the secrets of the universe—who knew?

Upon learning this, Arda's eyes lit up. His long-dead soul suddenly ignited again. Countless possibilities rushed through his mind, and he knew exactly what his wish would be: to fix everything!

He had no idea how he would do it, but with an all-powerful wish, he was sure he could. Maybe he could go back in time. Maybe he could simply return home as a rich man. One way or another, he would make things right!

After this revelation, Arda's silence disappeared in an instant, and he bombarded them with questions.

His sudden mood swing didn't surprise them. Everyone was depressed after death. The years they had lived for were suddenly taken away. Maybe that was why they were in Araf. They all had unfinished business. They all carried a sense of emptiness. And when they finally learned that they had a chance to fix everything, they all reacted the same way.

Arda's questions were mostly about the missions. He asked how they could be completed and what kind of missions existed.

However, these questions remained unanswered—because they didn't know.

People who fell into Hell would forget the details of their missions in Araf. This was the same for everyone, without exception.

This piece of information also surprised Arda, because he remembered. Annie's gaze and the sight of her crushing teeth as she devoured him were still crystal clear in his mind.

First, the cause of his death, and now this memory issue… He was starting to sense that something was off. Maybe, contrary to what he thought, he was special.

And, of course, the most terrifying piece of information—the demons.

When the others spoke about demons, they never used them as examples for missions. They didn't say things like, "the creatures in the missions," which is what Arda would have said if he were in their place. The way they talked about them made him think that demons weren't necessarily present in every mission. Maybe he had just been unlucky.

These demons had different levels. Some resembled evolved animals or humans—like a two-meter-tall, clawed demon that looked like a clown or a dog with a deer skull that ran on two legs. These were the simplest kinds. They were hunters that chased and killed. If you were fast or skilled enough, you could escape from them.

Another type was more supernatural. Some could trap you in a loop inside a building, forcing you to starve to death. Others would stand by your bed at night, ask you strange questions, and kill you. Sometimes, you could escape from them, but in most cases, it was impossible. Once they got you, you were as good as dead.

But the worst were the Calamities. These were inescapable beings. If you encountered one, you were completely at their mercy. They were entities beyond imagination, capable of bending reality itself. A simple example? They could trap you inside a coffin for a hundred years, and when you were finally freed, you'd realize only five minutes had passed. Falling into their hands was a fate worse than death.

Hearing about the nature of these demons unsettled Arda. Even if he wanted to complete the missions, win the reward, return to the real world, and fix everything—if he lost his sanity in the process, none of it would matter. The others were one thing, but getting caught by a Calamity-class entity would be a nightmare beyond comprehension.

Thankfully, these demons had limitations. They could only appear after nightfall. Even though the sky was permanently red, darkness was still the same as always—black and impenetrable. Arda wondered what kind of stars filled the night sky in this place. If this wasn't the Hell he knew, then perhaps it was something entirely different. Was the North Star still in the same place...?

All of this sent Arda deep into thought, analyzing the possibilities and what he could do next.

"Finally, some emotion on your face," Bulut said as they turned onto Konyaaltı Road.

The rusted, abandoned tracks of the old nostalgia train lay forgotten. Since there were no cars, the road was easy to travel. But what made the scenery truly special was the sea to their left. Or rather... what should have been the sea.

Now, there was nothing but endless valleys and hills. The sea had dried up. If the people who had bought homes here as an investment saw this sight, they would probably have a heart attack.

Bulut's comment was directed at Arda. He had been emotionless from the beginning, feeling like a speck of dust drifting aimlessly in the wind. But after learning about the missions and the reward, his face had lit up. Now, he looked deep in thought and filled with determination—just like his old self.

This was the real Arda. Always thoughtful, always smiling. Even when he spoke, intelligence dripped from his words. He loved teaching others, correcting them. His silence and depression had been caused by what he had recently gone through.

And that was normal. The happier and more energetic you are, the harder you crash when you fall.

Arda grinned with ambition. "You just gave a gambler the golden tip. How could I not smile?"

Bulut laughed and clapped him on the back. "That's the spirit! You pulled yourself together well. With that miserable face, this place would've felt even smaller for you."

"Hmph," Sergeant scoffed, her tone dismissive. "I think it's too soon to say that." Her voice sounded a bit melancholic.

Arda understood her reaction. He had already noticed while listening to their story—this girl had given up. She no longer wanted to escape. Whatever she had seen in her missions must have affected her deeply. Even if she didn't remember the details, her emotions and thoughts remained. The people in the so-called safe zone were the same way.

In truth, Arda didn't belong in that place. He had no intention of giving up like the others. Even though the demons scared him, he still longed for that wish. In fact, if these two weren't good people, he would have already killed one of them and returned to Araf.

The only reason he could think this way so coldly was because they wouldn't really die. From what he had learned, they would keep reviving—over and over—until they were sent back to Araf.

By now, they had reached the Varyant. This winding road spiraled down a cliffside, once bustling with people. It had space for both cars and pedestrians, and during the descent, it had offered a breathtaking view of the sea.

Now, it was just an abandoned path. The crimson sky cast an eerie glow over the landscape, making the spiral road look like a staircase leading to the lower levels of Hell.

As they descended, Arda saw a dead forest ahead. A bleak landscape filled with rotting trees. As they stepped inside, Arda felt something strange—like he had just passed through an invisible wall.

"We're here," Sergeant said.

Arda frowned. Hadn't they talked about a safe zone? Where were all the people?

He turned back to the scenery, and in that instant, his eyes widened in shock.

Just moments ago, the area had been nothing but lifeless trees. But now… it was full of people!

Everywhere he looked, people were walking around! There were tents scattered across the area!

It felt like he had just stepped into the heart of a nomadic tribe!

Arda immediately realized what had happened. The strange feeling from before—it had to be related to this. Some kind of supernatural force had been hiding this place, and passing through that invisible wall had allowed him to see it.

And he was right. There really was a power concealing this place.

Normally, pinpointing such an exact explanation would be difficult.

But for someone like Arda? It was easy.

Because if there was one thing Arda could pride himself on, it was his ability to make accurate deductions.