Mutation In Real Time

"6:57 PM," Han mumbled as he shifted his gaze back to the message on his screen. His finger hovered over it as he hesitated.

His instincts screamed at him to dismiss the message or simply turn off his phone. No matter how much he checked his inbox and emails, there was no sender.

Not even a logo to give him a brief idea of who could have sent it. It couldn't possibly be a scam since his phone's security was blocked.

And yet, somehow, a file and an app had been downloaded—along with a mysterious message.

Maybe it was a virus? But he didn't think so.

A virus was much more normal and didn't usually come with pop-up messages like the ones in the games he had seen.

Han exhaled and rubbed his temples.

He had just gotten off work and was hoping to get hot rice and kimchi.

Not to mention the dumplings, that the restaurant near his apartment just put up on the menu, he'd been thinking about all day. But now, he didn't even have an appetite.

His exhaustion might have been getting to him because there was no logical reason for him to keep contemplating a harmless message, virus or not.

Although it was extremely suspicious, he tapped the right button and sighed.

"Tomorrow is Saturday. I can't be stressing my brain like this," he mumbled to himself, ignoring the sudden shake of the train, which was quite normal in Seoul.

However, as he moved to put his phone in his pocket, the screen flickered.

A static wave moved over it, and for a split second, Han thought he heard something… faint whispers, a continuous bell ringing, and a gong overlapping them.

Then, a message appeared on his screen.

> [Logging in]

Han's fingers tightened around his phone as he brought it closer to his face. The font, the interface, even the input box—it was exactly the same.

His eyes slowly widened. "Impossible," he whispered. "It can't be."

It was exactly the same as the system notifications and messages from Voidborn Tales. That wasn't possible. He couldn't believe it—he had watched the entire server shut down.

The CEO and Trailblazers had publicly announced the game's shutdown after players reached the end. They even wiped the servers clean to ensure no one could access the game, though that decision had been questionable.

Han sat up straighter, his heart racing, but thankfully, due to his thick coat, no one could tell.

The Voidborn system had been flawless. It wasn't just any game; it had been built with technology ahead of its time—seamless in design, with no lingering bugs or forgotten remnants.

There hadn't been a single bug during gameplay, so why would there be one now? It didn't make sense.

A reasonable person would have laughed it off and checked if the game had been brought back.

But Han wasn't reasonable.

At least, not when it came to this game.

> [Player's gift unboxing request has been approved. Would you like to continue?]

Without thinking, he tapped yes.

The moment he did, the screen switched to a dark purple theme, and a streak of light moved from the top of the screen to the bottom, then, strangely, through his arm.

[Congratulations You have acquired Soul Art]

[Soul Art: Path to Ruin.]

[A cursed glimpse into what could be .]

For a brief second, he didn't react. He felt nothing, infact he was more focused on what was going on around him.

Until a cool sensation rushed through him, making the hairs on his skin rise.

He didn't react much, despite the strange feeling, because he hated attention.

Acting like a maniac would make people think he was crazy, and he might end up being dropped off. He shifted his gaze back to the screen, and sighed.

"I'll handle this later."

Han barely had time to digest what had happened before the train pulled to a rough stop with a deafening screech.

The force of the sudden stop sent passengers tumbling from their seats. But then, a scream tore through the chaos.

And it wasn't just a normal scream.

Han turned toward the direction of the voice, only to find the man sitting beside the woman who had screamed, was impaled by a rod from the ceiling of the train.

His blood had splattered across her.

Another scream came from behind him. Hecaught a glimpse of a child slowly being pressed against another sharp rod by the seat.

However, the train suddenly lunged forward again, this time with a loud screech, like metal grinding against gravel, before slamming into something once more.

The force of the impact crushed more people, rods that had come out from the ceiling and walls, from all corners snapped bones, impaled passengers, and shattered spines.

Han caught sight of a woman slamming headfirst into the wall before crumpling to the ground like a doll. And her nlood splattered from all directions.

Screams erupted. The struggle to pull legs out from beneath broken seats and twisted rods began, while those who hadn't been injured scrambled around, desperately searching for an escape, only to find the doors blocked against a wall.

Han stared out the window on his side, hoping to see people rushing toward the train to help.

But everywhere was deserted.

Like no one was around.

His breath hitched when he realized the train had moved into the slums of Seoul, an area abandoned for rebuilding at this hour.

"No way," he mumbled, turning back to the struggling passengers.

"Mommy, help!"

"My legs—someone, please... I... I can't feel my legs!"

"Why is this happening?!"

"Oppa… oppa, wake up! Please! Is there any doctor on the train? He is bleeding from his ears!"

"Please! My wife is pregnant, and her legs are impaled—call an ambulance!"

"My baby! Someone.... anyone help.... please!"

Han stared at them with wide eyes, unable to move. But when his gaze landed on the pregnant woman and her husband, he rushed forward to help.

He barely took a step before something heavy smashed into his side.

His vision turned white, like it was his eyes that had been hit hard.

Han hit the ground hard. The impact sent shockwaves through his skull, but he remained conscious.

His whole body exploded in hot pain when his ribs cracked, and he was thrown like a ragdoll back toward his seat.

Suddenly, glass shattered, the steels on the train twisted on their own, and the same thing happened to the passengers, well few of them.

The unlucky ones.

Severed limbs flew through the air, torn free from their owners, flesh was torn from flesh.

A child's voice shrieked for their mother, but her cry was cut off as their small body was crushed beneath a falling seat.

Through his vision had blurred, he saw movement.

A man, impaled on a jagged metal rod, twitching.

His lips parted like he wanted to speak, but only blood poured out.

His intestines hung in loops from his torn abdomen and spilled onto the floor.

The pregnant woman convulsed violently while her husband tried to keep her still, only for her bulging stomach to rip open.

And before his eyes, Han saw the baby... or what was supposed to be the baby crawl out of the woman's stomach.

The husband shifted backwards as fast as he could, too speechless to say a thing and he vomited uncontrollably.

Han gagged but quickly raised his handkerchief to cover his mouth.